#it wasn’t like they didn’t know how Jason was like either because everything about his character was hand delivered to Tim instead

[thejasontoddarchives]

Possibly the only bit of characterization/backstory I like from this comic. Jason’s (biological) big brother joined a gang that employs kids as bait to try to feed himself and Jason, donned the red hood, and got killed. Bruce’s first encounter with Jason was in the middle of him attempting to avenge Danny. Then later when Jason crafts his red hood persona, it’s to honor his late brother.

Batman: The Adventures Continue #9 (2020)

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 17

Somewhere in the back of Bruce’s mind, there a voice that was grateful that no one Bruce had slept with had experimented on their own child. With Talia and himself there were already lines that had been crossed, but what Danny had been through was another level of horrible. Which is why that tiny voice didn’t mater.

This wasn’t about Bruce, this was about Danny. Danny who looked ready to bolt again. Bruce reached out and placed his hand on Danny’s still cold cheek.

“Danny, being my clone doesn’t make being my son any less true.”

“That’s not—” Danny’s eyes welled with tears again and he leaned into the touch even as his foot scooted backwards. “That’s not how it works.”

“It does for us. Our family is messy. It’s complicated and confusing and… wonderful,” Bruce said. He spoke slowly both so that his words were clear, but also so that he could find the right words. “It’s a butler and orphans, assassins and demi-gods, sons and daughters and sometimes people who are neither. You being a clone is just one more thing in that mix. You’re still my son, if you’d like to be.”

“You can’t want me, I’m dead,” Danny insisted.

Jason set a pot down, loud enough that Danny’s eyes flickered to him.

“Kid, Danny, that doesn’t mater,” Jason said in a carefully controlled tone. “It’s the same as I’ve said before, they all know I died.”

Danny’s eyes widened, causing the tears to sleep free. He blinked rapidly.

“…Oh.”

-

They’re sat around the living room, each with their own mug of hot chocolate, even Bruce Wayne— even… well, Danny supposed it would be Tim Drake-Wayne, once he had shown up. He had flown through the door as he spoke through gulped breaths of air. He didn’t have a domino on either. They all sipped slowly at their drinks.

They were waiting for him to talk.

Talking seemed an insurmountable challenge.

Danny took another sip of the hot chocolate and licked the sugar sprinkle bat from his lips. He didn’t look at them as he spoke.

“Dick Grayson, Jason Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane. Cassandra Wayne… Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne. I don’t know Spoiler or Oracle. I only… I looked up Bruce Wayne on a library computer after I ran. That’s why I know.”

“Close friends of the family,” Mr. Wayne said.

“And ex-girlfriends,” Night— Dick spoke up.

“Right. Red— Tim said him and Spoiler had dated.” Danny mumbled. He glanced over at Hood from under his bangs. Hood… Jason? Hood. Too many changes. Hood hadn’t said anything since he had revealed everything.

He must have noticed Danny looking though, because he sent a melancholy smile Danny’s way. “I get it. We kept a really huge piece of information from you, but we didn’t lie. When we said you had us no matter what Bruce Wayne did, we meant it.”

“But he’s your dad.”

“And that means we're all very good at not listening to him,” Tim said proudly.

Mr. Wayne just gave an amused snort at that.

“Dandelion,” Hood said, ignoring his family, “the first time that you looked up at Red and I we both clocked who you were instantly.”

“Not the clone part,” Red added.

This time it was Danny who gave a little snort.

(Fuck, they even snorted the same.)

Hood just flicked Red off. Tim. “Sure, not the clone part.”

“Because someone wouldn’t let me take DNA,” Tim interrupted again.

“It’s corrupted anyways,” Danny said and suddenly all eyes were on him again. He ducked his head down into a shrug. “From my death. This form I guess it would match enough? But my ghost form wouldn’t be any help.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Tim said softly. “But also Hood was right, you didn’t deserve us doing that to you right then, even if I just wanted to help. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t know that you came from Bruce. You just came from him in a different way than we thought.”

“You were family right away, kid,” Hood said. “If didn’t matter your name or pronouns or history or if you’ve died or even that you’re a clone. As soon as we got a good look at you, you were family.”

Danny could feel the tears coming again and he wiped at his eyes in frustration. He wanted to just stop crying today.

“You could have been wrong,” Danny said. They didn’t get it, why didn’t they get it?

“Could have. But you were still a hurt kid that needed help,” Hood said.

“You don’t need blood to be family,” Dick said. “Me and Jason and Tim and Cass and Duke… Alfred, none of have blood with each other or Bruce and Damian. If you had turned out to not be related to Bruce at all? Well, you were already family.”

The tears came now and Danny couldn’t stop them. The hot chocolate was taken carefully from his hands by Jason while Dick pulled him into a hug.

“I don’t— I don’t get it,” Danny said through the sobs. “Why can you all— why can you all love me after a month when they— when my— when the people that were supposed to be my parents never did?”

“Danny—”

“They killed me!” Danny roared. He was shaking now and Dick help him tighter. “They made me just to kill me and cut me into pieces! I was their son! I was…. I was their son. Why couldn’t they love me?”

Between one blink and the next Mr. Wayne was up from his chair and in front of Danny. His large hand was so warm on Danny’s cheek. Danny sobbed harder.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, I don’t know because you are so loveable. It’s something wrong with them, not with you. I already know you’re wonderful and I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

Danny didn’t get it.

Danny didn’t believe it yet.

But god did Danny want it.

Danny flung himself forwards, landing in the arms that were waiting to catch him, and let himself cry.

-

“Nose bleed stopped and he’s resting now. Jay is staying in there with him in case he wakes,” Dick said as he closed the door to Danny’s bedroom softly behind him. A sad, wet blue lump was in his other hand. “We’ll try to get his bear dried out, it was in the bag he took.”

“See if the dryer has an air dry setting,” Bruce said. When both sons in the room looked at him in surprise he just gave a little shrug. “Dickie used to play with Zitka outside all the time. I learned to help make sure she was always ready for bed.”

Dickie gave a little laugh. It was heavily tinged with stress, but it was a laugh. Bruce would take what he could get right then. Jay still had a job, so he’d be alright for now. Dick would need to stay busy and close to people, but both those would do most of the work for the moment. It was Tim that Bruce had to worry about the moment; he was being very silent.

“Tim, chum, are you done with your drink?”

Tim blinked up from staring down at said drink. “What?”

Bruce crouched down in front of Tim (trying not to think of how he crouched down in front of a sobbing Danny just a bit ago) and took the mug. “What are you turning over in that head of yours, chum?”

Tim fiddled with his nails now that the mug was out of his hands. Bruce wouldn’t stop it unless Tim managed to make himself bleed. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last.

“Sweetheart?”

“It’s going to take him a long time to believe us— this,” Tim said, the words almost a rush.

Bruce nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

“And he could run again,” Tim continued, still speaking quickly. “It could all be going well and then suddenly he could be thinking of running again because he’s doubting things.”

“Okay Tim,” Bruce said with careful words. His mind was running through all the times when Tim had pulled away from the family, “what do you think we can do to help that?”

Tim shrugged and looked away. “I guess— I mean, saying things to him is good but it won’t get as far as actions. And those actions need to include making him feeling useful.”

“But—” Dick started, the dryer now rumbling away in the linen closet.

“I’m not saying make him do work,” Tim interrupted. “But until he can consistently believe that we want him in the family, him feeling useful will help give him a reason to stay. As long as he’s useful, he won’t think that there’s no reason for him to stay when he thinks no one wants him around.”

Gently, Bruce reached out and took Tim’s hand away from where his cuticle had started to split and bleed. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spot gently. “We’ll make sure to offer him ways to help out. We’ll talk as a family about where the lines will be and what sort of work is alright, especially as Danny is still healing.”

Tim took a careful breath and nodded. “Good.”

“And Tim?” Bruce waited until Tim was looking at him to continue. “I love you and I’m very glad that you are part of this family.”

-

Bruce sent Dick back to the manor after Cass arrived. They talked about what was best and agreed together that for Danny, Bruce still needed to be here in the morning. Bruce knew Dick hated to leave, but he was the other one who could handle Damian and whatever moods this may have invoked. And they were both worried about pulling Jason away from Danny right then.

Once Dick had wrangled Damian, they all had a meeting. Jason joined in with headphones Tim delivered and stayed mostly silent. Alfred lingered behind Dick’s shoulder.

Bruce went over the day, doing his best to treat it like a debrief just so that he could get through it without his heart breaking the rest of the way.

Danny had run of his own volition, afraid that those who had hurt him would find them. He was most afraid of them hurting Jason and Damian. (Dick pulled Damian close). He wasn’t Bruce’s son, biologically speaking, but his clone. They would try, with permission, to take some blood and analyze it soon. There were worries about the state of Danny’s DNA that Bruce wanted them to look into, for Danny’s safety.

There was worry any tests might set Danny off.

Danny knew about their identities, though they did not share Stephanie and Barbara’s name— both girls gave their go ahead. He seemed confused, but alright. They had to be ready for a possible out burst over it later after everything that had sunk in.

They would be sure to give Danny things to do that made him a quick part of the family, Bruce wanted everyone to think what those would be. There was to be nothing that was patrolling or anything dangerous. They would all agree on the list.

When Bruce ran out of things to say, Alfred stepped forward, there as always to help with the next step. “Is there anything specific I should prepare for his room?”

“Blue,” Cass suggested.

“Stars,” Tim said from where he was tucked into Cass’ side. “He likes space. Maybe one of those projectors that turns the ceiling into the night sky?”

“Soft blankets,” Jason spoke, a quiet addition.

“An air diffuser, natural scents like flowers and earth,” Dick chimed in.

“A… a pet,” Damian said, words uncharacteristically hesitant, though he straightened up defiantly at the look of confusion on everyone’s face. “If he is a flight risk, then a pet will be something he stays for. It will also be a responsibility for him that is little effort and not dangerous. Also, when he needs company but the family is… overwhelming, his pet will be there for him. There are many cats and some suitable dogsat the shelter right now, I will take him.”

Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a little smile. “That’s a very good idea, thank you. I’m sure Danny would like your help, after we introduce you two properly.”

Damian nodded, though that slight uncertainty was still there in the curve of his shoulders.

“Dami?” Dick prompted.

“When will I be able to meet him? Properly.”

“How about in a few days, before we move him to the manor, I’ll bring you over with me, okay ayouni? We can bring lunch with us and have a meal together,” Bruce offered.

Damian nodded sharply, a slight smile on his lips. “Acceptable.”

“Good. We will try to have everyone over before we move Danny, which will be mostly on his timetable. For now, everyone get some rest.”

There was a chime of voices agreeing to that and signing off. Bruce made sure he was the last to leave the call.

---

AN: It's... mmm... not great day, so you all are getting this now instead of tomorrow when ao3 updates. Stay delightful, darlings <3

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys with reader who has a silly collection of stickers and puts them over their faces, their suits or their weapons (most of them with silly encouraging phrases to cheer them up lol)

Dick

He bought you a set of stickers once and ever since it’s been his ultimate downfall but in the most humorous way possible.

Dick has a sense of humour, he didn’t mind a couple of stickers here and there, even going so far as to keep the cute cartoon mushroom stickers that you’ve left on his escrema sticks as your personal touch on his belongings.

He even once woke up to a face full of them and when he asked your reasoning as to why, you only shrugged your shoulders and said ‘I thought it’d be funny to see how many stickers I can put on your face without waking you up.’

Dick takes the whole thing in stride and in good faith and loves the fact that you went out of your way to cheer him up through your cute but inspirational stickers. It was almost as though you knew that he needed a little pick me up that day and did so tenfold by coating his hands in stickers that reminded him of your deep care for him and his mental health.

So nowadays Dick doesn’t mind waking up just to see his face covered in stickers and instead smiles and goes about his daily routine as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Jason removed his red helmet from his hand and could only stare at the stickers that littered across the sides and back either a blank stare as Roy practically pissed himself with laughter.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how did I not see this?’ Jason muttered under his breath, scratching at sticker of a cartoon Robin holding a stick in its beak.

‘Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of in a little self expression Jason,’ Roy snickered, ‘but I didn’t peg you as the type to collect stickers and cute ones at that.’ He then points to a particular sticker on his helmet of a cat hanging from a branch followed by the saying; just hang in there.

‘piss off.’ Jason told him. He knew something was a miss but didn’t know what it was and now that he knew, everything was starting to make a bit more sense. For starters you didn’t kiss his helmet like you usually did before he left of patrol, almost as though you didn’t want to ruin something on his helmet that he didn’t see, at least not at that point in time.

He should’ve known because you’ve pulled this stint with his guns before in the past but what you didn’t know was that he kept a few that were now a little worn and faded. So while he appear a little peeved that you have took it upon yourself to decorate his helmet, he was a sentimental guy deep down who loved anything and everything you’ve given him and treasures it with his entire heart.

Jason’s a secret sap when it comes to you and knows that he’ll come to laugh at all this at a later date as he recalls all of it to you when he comes home, already envisioning your reaction when he’d inevitably calls you out on it, knowing that he could never stay mad at you for very long. He physically couldn’t and refuses to when all you were trying to do was lift his spirits.

You were too sweet for him but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Damian

Wants you to take them off at first, how was he meant to be taken seriously if he was covered head to toe in stickers, ridiculous.

He thinks them childish unfortunately

However when you do stop putting your stickers across every one of his belongings for a brief stint, he begins to realise the true intended purpose behind them, and would begin to leave subtle hints that he wanted you to go back to coating everything he owned in stickers in his own way of apologising.

He’s stubborn but he cares for you and what you meant to him and if planting stickers on the sheath of his sword on the premise to uplift his spirits, then who was he to stop you from doing so. He wasn’t use to someone going out of their way to try and cheer him up and was more use to isolating himself from everyone in his room and just draw out his innermost feelings.

So you covering his face, suit and or weapons with stickers with cute and uplifting words was something he needed time to get use to, but once he does he tries to keep the stickers that had long served their purpose within the pages of his sketch pad as a keepsake of your thoughtfulness towards him.

This portion of his sketch pad is kept under a lot of secrecy on his part but you find it eventually because of course you do.

Damian wasn’t use to someone caring about him as much as you did and in a more unique way than littering the hilt of his sword in stickers made to make his day just that a little better. Damian, much like Jason, keeps a sticker or two on his weapons but in places where it would be harder for others to spot and would run his thumb over it whenever he felt that he needed your presence.

Tim doesn’t mind you putting stickers on his stuff, he’s pretty much unbothered by it and would just accept the fact that this was your way of saying that you’re thinking of him and his well-being. Tim knew you well enough to understand what you were trying to say through your stickers from the stickers you used consistently.

However due to his egregious sleep schedule lead to many instances where he would wake up to his face covered entirely in stickers, and at first he thought it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things but soon realised that his face was indeed covered in stickers, and would silently stare at you through the mirror as you tried hard not to laugh.

He threatens to plaster your face with stickers next time, he does follow up on his promise but that’s a story for another time.

To Tim it was almost as if you had just made up an entirely new way of communication through stickers, he’s even got them categorised based on their subliminal messages and what you were trying to tell him through them.

He appreciates the stickers and would even find himself smiling at them on the odd occasion and run his fingers over them gingerly as to not accidentally peel one of them off. He loved your unique way of cheering him up and would get a little sad when he sees that someone them were starting to fade or become worn, only to feel a warmth spread throughout his chest when he saw new stickers next to the places of the old ones.

Each and every sticker had it’s sentimental significance to him and if Tim were to ever find out that you didn’t have anymore stickers to spare, he would buy you more sets and act like he didn’t have any part in this despite the parcel having his name on it.

[dclovesdanny]

Something I will never get enough of is Danny killing the Joker. However, something I want to see more of, is Danny killing the Joker for Ellie.

Like, Jason and Danny are neighbors and they’ve been friends for a little while. Jason knows Danny has the 20 something year old mechanic with a six-year-old daughter who is an absolute gremlin. He really likes them both, and he might have a little crush on his neighbor.

Then when they are out at the park or something, the Joker attacks. The joker decides to grab a hostage and who does he grab, but this six year old girl who only seems to have one person who knows her, a scrawny 20 something person. She has dark hair and blue eyes and only person who seems to care about her is her older brother/possible father? Perfect bait for Batman.

He wasn’t counting on Danny being able to fight god for his family. He didn’t realize that Danny will do anything to protect his family, that, in his literal core, he is sworn to protect his people, no matter the cost. the joker did not realize that Danny loves Ellie enough to not only die (again) for her, but to kill for her.

The Joker doesn’t die to Batman, or in some big battle. The Joker dies to a man no one knew because the Joker kidnapped his daughter. The joker dies, because he forgot that not everyone has the same hangups about killing that Batman does. The Joker dies because he pushed a parent too far.

Jason is there during all of this. I think he’s either there as red hood, watching through the cameras, or there is Jason. All three of these have many different pros for various forms of angst.

If Jason is there as red hood, he’s probably with some of the batfamily, and they are holding him back from killing the Joker. They’re trying to figure out how to make it so that the joker won’t kill this little girl, and Jason is going feral because that is his kid. That is the little gremlin who lives next-door, who knocks on his door and treats him like a jungle gym. That’s his kid. When he sees Danny jump at the Joker, he’s going to have a straight up panic attack and he’s gonna get the guns ready, but he doesn’t need to.

If he’s there as Jason, I think the joker would also take him hostage. Jason Wayne, the brat who would get him a lot of money. Especially if the Joker knows that this was the second Robin, because this just means he can get two killed in one swoop. And Jason is trying to protect Ellie with everything in him, cursing himself for not bringing a gun with him and praying that this time Bruce isn’t too late. And he can see the pain in Danny’s eyes and he is so scared to lose this family he has. He praised to a God he doesn’t believe in this time, history won’t repeat itself.

I feel like it would be most painful, if he’s watching through cameras. He’s probably injured or in the middle of doing something for his civilian life . Maybe he’s even out of town, but turned the camera on to look out for the joker, and had a heart attack when he saw the little girl next-door being held by the Joker. This man is trying so hard to get there, breaking every traffic law, praying that he won’t be too late that this won’t be the same as his death. His trauma is excruciating, because this feels like when he was waiting for Bruce and Bruce not getting there until it was too late.

No matter which of these scenarios, he needs to see Danny snap and kill the joker. Maybe, in the camera scenario, it’s just this he arrives that he sees it. Either way, he needs to see the moment, the Joker dies at the head of a single father, and the parallel of Bruce and him and Danny and Ellie need to be very apparent. Because this time the dad wasn’t afraid to kill.

This is the moment I feel, Jason would fully acknowledge that he would do anything for these people. That these two neighbors of his have become his family. The moment he sees the two of them holding each other, and the jokers body at their feet, I guarantee you this man is fighting tooth and nail not to go over his red hood exposed them. if he’s Jason, he can run into hug them no problem, but if he’s red hood, he’s not going to be able to do that.

This man will fight with Batman if he even that should get in trouble for killing the Joker. He will threaten to never ever speak to Bruce ever again, will be ready to bribe the police into letting Danny go, we will race every camera footage out there of the event, will do anything for this family.

Later that day, he won’t have nightmares of the Joker for the first time in a while. He will be able to look at his family and rest easy, knowing that there’s no way that Joker can take them from him.

[morverenmaybewrites]

Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons

Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity? 

How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.

Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you? 

The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat. 

Jason tries, for you, he tries. 

But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does. 

And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.

Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of? 

Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider. 

Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.

The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust. 

And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed. 

It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces. 

It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite. 

Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why. 

And he realizes, he’s afraid. 

He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it. 

The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.

Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.

He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.

Can you imagine how scared he is? 

Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with. 

And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.

Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become. 

And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–

And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food. 

And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.

This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat. 

But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him. 

It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with. 

It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to. 

And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.

Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him. 

You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him. 

Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars. 

This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.  

He doesn't deserve you. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!

[fictionismyreality3]

Hi first off just wanted to say I absolutely love your work! But please remember to take care of yourself and have plenty of water and Food and please remember to take breaks 🫶

Anyways I was wondering if I could req a fic where Jason finds out his s/o is an Ex-Criminal who's trying really hard not to fall back into old habits but is struggling because these guys keep harrasing them to become a criminal again

Mm just gonna take this :D -🎧

Better off Before You

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: boyfriend!jason todd, ex-criminal!reader, established relationship, kinda controlling!jason todd idk, angst but it gets resolved at the end

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, violence, crime, drugs, weapons like knives and guns, arson, sexual assault 🤨

Notes: I gagged writing this 😩 sorry to all the Jefferey’s out there I just think Jeff is a creepy name. Kinda put a spin on the req hope that’s okay ☺️

34 stitches, 18 hours, and 1 bullet.

That’s what you’d scarified to get the life you had now. You’d done your time, and spent the hours necessary to detach yourself from your previous life and associates.

You had a lot to be grateful for and you knew that. It wasn’t like you were waking up everyday selfishly forgetting where you came from. That seemed impossible with the way the bullet was still lodged under the skin of your hip. But you were happy. You had a good life now and you were happy.

When you met Jay, you used to go by a different name, and when you thought about it, you were really a different person. But he pushed you. He wasn’t like those other self righteous hero’s you so often found yourself running from. He told it like it was, and he didn’t care if he hurt your feelings when he spoke. And back then, that’s something you needed desperately.

“You look like shit.”

Rolling your eyes, you wiped your lips, spitting the blood that had pooled in your mouth onto the gum covered pavement.

“You’re not exactly looking your best either, Red.” You drawled, eying the tall form of Jason Todd as he stalked down the alley towards you. “Yeah, well, it’s been one of those days.” He shrugged.

“Cortez?” Jason threw out there as he tucked his pistols away and got ready for a fist fight.

“No, Romero this time. You know what the buyers are like.”

Rain fell around you as you struck Jason in the stomach, his body expertly maneuvering to the side so he could grab your leg when you tried to throw a kick at him. Soon you were on your back, hitting at the inside of his elbow to push him off you. A well timed bite to shoulder and kick in the nuts let you escape.

That was 2 years ago.

Some days you almost wished you’d lost that fight, it would have made getting out from under your bosses thumb a lot easier had you been thrown in jail. You ended up having to do it the hard way. First breaking things off with Cortez, he was a squealer, especially when you pulled a few fingernails to reinforce he wouldn’t come after you.

Romero was harder. The man had a good few hundred men and women working for him. He practically ran the entire drug scene on the east end of Gotham. You used to be one of his best. It was a slightly demeaning work, being the person whose sole job was to ensure rich, high society people got their pill fix for the week, but it payed well. The only way you managed to get out was by knocking off his men one by one till you got to the top.

To him.

But Jay helped you, and you did it, even if it did leaving you with a permanent reminder in the flesh of your hip. There was no immediate way for Romero build back his little empire, and you allowed yourself to relax over the years, even getting to the point where Jason and you would run missions for Bruce.

Which is why this had to be a one time thing.

“Eh, c’mon pretty. Let’s not keep the boss waiting.”

How you found yourself back on the radar of the man you were trying so hard to distance yourself from seemed to be a sick joke from the universe. All it took was one wrong decision and you’d slipped right back into your old life like you’d never left. It wasn’t that you wanted to, but at this point, you didn’t have a choice.

You were sloppy. Normally you made sure to never take any jobs related to the underground drug rings so as to avoid spotted. But you didn’t do your research, and one bust got you noticed by one of Romero’s men who got away. That was all it took for him to go ratting back to his boss, who now held a massive grudge against you for how long it took him to regain power.

You fought hard when they found you again. The skin of your attackers still sat underneath your fingernails.

But you weren’t a super, you didn’t have powers or years of extreme training like Jay. You were just a girl who grew up on the wrong side of town, and chloroform wasn’t exactly easily avoided.

Scanning your surroundings, you tried to memorize the route of winding hallways you were being dragged through. The smell of gasoline and booze hung in the air, making your nose scrunch in disgust. Being pushed through a set of heavy metal doors, you found yourself face to face with the beady eyes of Jefferey Romero.

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I would say,” he began, standing up from the crusty folding chair he was sitting in. “When I saw you again.” Two men came and held your arms behind your back, their grip tight despite your struggling. “But all I can think about is how pathetic you look.”

One grubby hand reached up to clutch your chin, his fingers digging into your skin while he surveyed your face. The other reached down and squeezed at your ass.

“Fuck you.” You spat.

Driving your knee up, you kicked him as hard as you could in the dick, relishing the whiny noise of pain he made as he fell to his knees. Deciding to use the opportunity, you spat on him, but by then more of his men came to hold you still.

“You’re just as feisty as I remember too.” He coughed and brushed himself off. Getting back up, with a slight limp he came to stand in front of you. “You cost me a lot of money, you know.” Romero licked his lips. “It took me years to get it back.” He thread his fingers through your hair, yanking your head harshly to the side. “That’s why you’re gonna do me a little favour, bitch.”

You scoffed, wanting nothing more than to wrap your hands around his neck and choke him to death. “I’m not doing jack shit for you.” Romero let out a sneering laugh.

“Oh, but you will. Because I have this.”

As he held out his hand, your eyes darted down to the little enamel pin resting in his palm.

Your tongue was heavy in your mouth.

“What do you need?”

Jason wasn’t a great boyfriend when it came to his protectiveness. Knowing the life you’d came from, and how you two literally met when you were running from the cops, he was constantly worried about keeping you safe. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, he just wanted you to have the life you deserved.

Because he knew you deserved so much.

Fiddling with the string of his hoodie, he tried to stay focused on whatever random ass tv show was on. Pressing the material to his nose, he took a deep breath. Your perfume filled his lungs and he felt dizzy and relieved at the same time. It had only been a few hours since you left to go get some groceries, but the time away was killing him.

Clingy was a word he liked to pretend didn’t exist, but with the way you’d been acting for the last few weeks, he was getting more and more reluctant to let you out of his sight. Bruises that you’d brush off as you being clumsy, scrapes lining your knees, even the way your eyes were seemingly darting around to look for a threat that wasn’t there. All of it was beginning to leave a sour taste in Jason’s mouth.

Normally, he would never do anything to invade your privacy, but the nagging feeling in the back of his head wouldn’t let him drop it. Rustling through drawer after drawer, Jason searched from the objects that would confirm his suspicions. Cursing under his breath, he mumbled a few prayers that this wasn’t what he thought it was as he moved to your half of the closet.

Pushing the clothes to the side, his eyes got stuck on the red dress he’d bought you, and he had to clench his fists from punching the wall when he saw what was lying in the shoebox behind it.

Your knives.

The same knives he’d taken from you when you first started to change the way you were living. The same knives he’d hidden from you to help you transition. The same knives that were sitting there, clearly having been recently polish, laughing at him as they glinted in the light. The sound of the front door ripped him from his stupor.

“Hey, Jay. I got those chips you like-” Your words died on your tongue as you came face to face with a very angry Jason Todd, standing in the living room, holding a reminder of your past.

“What the fuck is this, huh?” He ground out, holding knives out with a shaking hand. “I promise, it’s not what it looks like.” You began quickly. Letting out a huff of tightly contained anger, Jason stormed up to you, grabbing you by the wrists and sending your shopping bags to the floor.

“Not what it looks like?” He scoffed. “No, I-”

“Because to me, it sure fucking looks like you’re working again.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared up into the now swirling blue-green eyes of the one man who never left. “You don’t understand.” You tried to plead. Throwing the knives to the floor, Jason backed you up against the front door, his hands caging you against the wood. “I don’t understand?” He hissed. “I risked my ass when I asked Bruce to cover your bail.”

The pressure of your rapidly beating heart was barely being held in by your ribcage. “Jay, you can’t understand.”

Jason swore he felt a tooth crack with how hard he was clenching his jaw. There hadn’t been a lot of instances where he’d felt truly hurt in his life, not before you. He always kept himself too closed off for that. But now? Now the small sliver of worth you had given him felt like it was being doused in salt and vodka.

“Then make me understand, baby.” Jay pleaded. “I can’t let you do this to yourself.” He hated the way his voice cracked.

All at once you were overcome with the urge to tell him everything, to fall into his arms and cry to him about how Romero had found where your sister went to university, and how you might not have talked to her in years but you still couldn’t let her die.

But your mouth didn’t open.

And Jason could only drop his hands to his sides and take a step back from you.

“Where the fuck having you been goin’ for the last 3 weeks?” He said disbelieving. “I don’t even know who you are anymore!” Wiping the tear you didn’t realize was forming, took a deep breath and steeled yourself.

“I’ll tell you when it’s over.”

All his years of experience, the instincts and reaction times he’d had trained into him, seemed to vanish as he watched you turn on your heel and leave. Standing frozen for a moment, Jason stared at the handle of the door, as if his gaze would somehow cause it to turn and you to come back.

“Fuck.” He snarled, whipping around to leave a fist sized hole in the wall.

One more job.

One more job and then this would all be over.

That’s what you kept telling yourself. The words got repeated over and over again in your mind as you stepped out into the streets of Gotham and began walking towards where you were stashing your things. The words echoed into the foggy air as you mumbled to yourself, changing into your district clothes and heading to the target Romero sent you.

They acted as a sort of prayer to who ever was listening. A plea, for all of this mess to somehow how straighten itself out, and for you to be forgiven as you hurled the bottle of alcohol and flames at the cargo truck you’d been ordered to destroy.

The fire danced across the surface of the truck until the whole thing burst into a ball of heat. You don’t know what was in it or why Romero wanted it gone, and you didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know. All you felt like doing was crumbling into the pavement and disappearing into one of the cities many potholes so you never had to show your face again.

It was nearly impossible for Jason to keep from destroying the apartment. Every item of furniture you’d picked out together sat like a reminder. He’d been the one to get you off the streets. He’d been the one to show you that there were people who cared about more than their next hit or how to get money. He’d been the one to help you get free.

And now he had failed you.

Jason sat on the couch, slumped forward with his head in his hands. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Really, everything was wrong, but something about the way you left felt odd. There was this look in your eye, the same one he saw the first time you’d met when he cornered you after the police slacked off at their jobs. A look of fear.

Not towards him. He could still remember it plain as day. It was more a look of dread, like you were worried about the consequences of getting caught and not the scary guy in the red mask who caught you. Like you were dreading someone finding out. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. Although he was absolutely livid, he couldn’t stand seeing you in fear because he loved you.

He loved you.

“What the fuck am I doin’ just sitting here?”

When you got back to the seedy building near the docks, you were let in instantly by two of Romero’s men. The winding hallways of his new building had reluctantly become a familiar sight after spending the last 3 weeks running errands for him. But now your debt was paid, and you could get to tell Jay everything.

The same set of heavy metal doors that seemed to unlock a world you tried so desperately to forget opened once more, and you were once again standing in front of the man who used you. Putting out his cigarette, Jeffery Romero sauntered his way over to you.

“It’s done. The truck’s gone.” You spoke first. “I did my half of the bargain, so don’t you dare touch my sister.” With a thoughtful look that was clearly exaggerated, he looked you over, walking a circle around you. “I’ll admit, you weren’t as useless as I remembered.” The beady-eyed man snickered. Your hands were clenching, fingernails digging into your palms. “I might even take you back to work for me.”

“I’d never fucking work for you.”

His eyes narrowed, a dark smile curling across his lips. “That’s a shame,” He said nonchalantly. “Because you know too much now to be kept alive.”

As if waiting for their cue, the men who’d been leaning against the walls or playing poker and pretending not to listen pounced on you. Hands were tugging you in every which way, some tearing at your clothes as they shoved you to your knees. With a surge of adrenaline, you went down kicking and screaming, biting and pushing back against anyone who touched you. All the while Romero sat and watched, lighting another cigarette.

Glass shattered as the windows got kicked in. People were screaming. A gun went off. Again. And then again. And slowly, working through the shock, your mind caught up to process the image of Jason blowing the heads off of everyone around you, their brains splattering onto the walls and floor.

Letting out a practically feral noise, you lunged at Romero, shoving him to the ground and pounding your fists down into his face over and over again. Your vision was blurry, partly from your tears and partly from the blood that was spraying onto your face every time you brought your hand down. But you couldn’t stop. You busted his lip for your sister. You shattered his nose for the peace you’d fought for.

And you broke his jaw just for you.

Two strong arms were tugging you off the now lifeless body, and your face was pressed into a broad chest. Taking the first breath you’d been able to in 3 weeks, you got a lungful of Jason and you sobbed like a little baby. The hiss of his mask coming off barely registered in your mind.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, hey you’re- fuck, princess it’s okay.” He cooed and ran his gloved fingers through your hair. “It’s over. It’s over.”

“I should have-” You tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled gasping noise. Jason was wiping the blood off your face, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. “I should have told you.” You blubbered, clutching at the leather of his jacket. He didn’t even know what you were talking about, or how you got dragged into all this mess, but right now, he didn’t care. “M’not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me.”

“I’m always gonna stay.”

[dontshootmespence]

IT'S GONNA BE MY YEAR

“It’s gonna be my year.”

The mantra echoed in Eddie’s head, repeating itself with ever-increasing volume to the point where he didn’t even hear the obnoxious clang of the bell that signaled the end of class. 

Shaking out the monotony, he got up from his desk and slowly ambled toward his locker. Going to class was a bore, but if this was what he had to do to get out of this hellhole he was going to make it happen. The hallways were abuzz with students talking about anything and everything. Nothing that actually mattered though. He caught snippets of conversations about weekend plans, the upcoming game, marching band, and some of his D&D friends talking about their most recent epic campaign. 

Once his friends passed him, he tuned out the rest of the student body. Either none of them mattered to him, they pissed him off, or they were unattainable to him. 

Before he could even register it, some asshole in a green and white letterman jacket jammed him in the shoulder, causing his books to fall to the floor. He bent down, grimacing all the while. He was used to it by now.

“Hey, douchebag!” Eddie heard someone scream from behind him. “Does that make you feel cool, Jason?”

Eddie turned his head around to see Y/N yelling at the head of the basketball team. She wasn’t in the “nerd group” so to speak, but she wasn’t exactly popular either. Thing was, she didn’t care. He loved that about her. 

Jason slinked away without saying anything, which made a smile curl at the edge of Eddie’s lips. “Go ahead, walk away like a little bitch!”

When she bent down to help him, he met her gaze and smiled. “Thanks for that. I always love watching you call out the assholes in this place.” He hadn’t really meant for that last part to come out. Eddie the Banished wasn’t necessarily hurting for female attention, but he knew the hierarchy in this place. Who was on his level and who wasn’t. Y/N definitely wasn’t. She was ridiculously smart and effortlessly cool without fitting in with any one group. 

“Jason’s a douche. Don’t pay any attention to him.”

“I try not to,” he laughed, a warmth spreading through him when she laughed too. She handed him his math book. He hated that thing. “I don’t know if I even want this back.”

“Not your best subject?” She asked. 

He stumbled over his words as he took her in. She was wearing acid wash, a checkered red and black sweater-shirt thing that dipped just a little too low, and a little silver chain necklace that highlighted her chest. “Definitely not.” It was rare that he felt ashamed, but in her presence, admitting he could barely pass remedial math, he did. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” she said softly. When he began to walk away, she called for him. “Eddie, I could help you with math if you want.” Her body swayed, a soft smile highlighting her beautiful face. 

“You sure? You’re okay being seen with Eddie “The Freak” Munson?”

She jogged up to his side and they began walking toward the west hall. “People are assholes. I don’t think you’re a freak. I’d be happy to help. We’d just have to find a place to study because my parents don’t allow anyone over.”

“I mean, I live in a trailer with my uncle. Would your parents let you come over?”

She snickered. “No, but I also don’t really tell them anything. I just go where I want and they can’t really get mad because I get good grades and they have appearances they need to maintain. Grounding their only daughter doesn’t look good. Tonight?”

“Definitely, you know where the trailer park is?” He hated saying that out loud to her. 

“Yup. How about 8?”

“Sound good.”

                                                               -----

Later that night, Eddie tried desperately to get the guy stink and reefer out of the air. He knew this wasn’t a date or anything, but he still felt the need to impress her. Despite hearing her car roll up to the trailer park, he practically jumped out of his skin when she knocked on the trailer door.

The breath was knocked out of him when he opened the door. She’d changed since class let out, wearing a black skirt, red crop top, and little red heels. “Ready to get started?” She asked.

For nearly an hour and a half, she did her best to break down the mathematical concepts he was supposed to understand. She was more than patient and didn’t say a thing about the fact that his room was a complete mess and the whole trailer still smelled of dope. “Can we take a break?” He asked, rubbing his temple. “I’m starting to get it, but my head is killing me.”

Smiling, Y/N stood up and stretched, even more of her silken skin peeking out from under her shirt. “Sure, what do you usually do to relax?”

Laughing, he replied, “What I normally do is probably not something you’d be into. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Her gaze softened in a way that made him warm all over. “I’m not as innocent as you think, Eddie Munson.”

Scrambling off his bed, he went to his drawer and pulled out a pre-rolled joint from earlier - one he’d imagined lighting up after she left. “You ever smoked one of these before?”

“A joint,” she said, reaching across to take the joint and the lighter from his hands, “Yes, I have.” As the end of the cigarette caught flame, she inhaled deeply, and little wisps of smoke danced around her lips. She held her breath, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs. “Not my first time.”

“Who would’ve thought,” Eddie replied with a smile. When she offered the joint to him, he took in between took fingers and slipped it into his mouth, relaxing a bit as he jumped off the bed and grabbed her a snack from the cabinet above their heads. “So, when did you start smoking?”

She hesitated for a moment, taking her turn with the joint before answering. “A couple years ago. As an only child from a well-to-do family, I apparently need to have the weight of the world on my shoulders. My dad wants me to become a doctor, so I study my ass off and they continue to acknowledge that I’m his pride and joy. It’s a lot to handle. And lately, I’ve decided not to apply to college as a pre-med major. I want to follow my own dreams, not his, you know?��”

Nodding, he took the joint from her and took a puff. “What do you want to do with your life?” He asked genuinely. 

“I’ve always loved the idea of the ocean even though I’ve never even seen one. I want to study marine biology and learn about sea creatures and stuff.” He saw a weight lift from her shoulders - like she could finally be herself around someone. 

“That’s fucking awesome,” he replied, handing the joint back to her. “Why do your parents not want you to do that? You’d be a brainy scientist.”

“Because apparently nothing is respectable besides being a doctor or a lawyer.”

She spoke with such disdain that he felt bad for ever assuming that her life was an easy one just because she came from better circumstances than him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’ll make an amazing marine biologist, and you’ll do it on your terms. Fuck everyone else’s expectations.”

Silence hung heavily like the smoke in the air. When she went to hand the joint back to him, he held up his hand. “Take another one. I think you might need it more right now.”

Her smile shined in the smoke-infused trailer. Spinning around, her arms outstretched, she pulled the cigarette to her lips and took a small hit before stopping herself abruptly. “Thanks, Eddie. I really needed this.”

“It’s the least I can do for the math help.”

She took another big puff of the joint and crossed the space between them, pausing in front of him. His eyes fell to her lips and the next thing he knew they were on him, the smoke from her mouth traveling to his own. Slowly, she slipped her tongue across his before pulling away.

Eddie stood almost frozen in place, still feeling the heat of her lips on his. “Y-you didn’t just do that because you’re in a like, vulnerable place right?”

She shook her head, reaching for the hem of her shirt and slipping it off to reveal that she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

“I...” Eddie’s mouth went dry.

As she stepped toward him, she reached out to grasp his hand. His fingertips were rough and semi-cracked from his near-constant guitar playing, but she didn’t flinch, placing his hand on her breast. 

Without hesitation, Eddie pulled her toward him and molded his other hand to her skin, pliant and warm. Roaming her body, he breathed. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” 

She bit her lip and cradled her head in the crook of his neck, filling herself with the scent of him - earthy wisps of dried flowers and a crackling fire with just a hint of something that was all his own. He drowned in the feeling of her warmth against him, a heavy breath escaping his mouth as she kissed the spot just below his ear.

“Want you,” she said softly, running her hands under his belt.

Eddie grasped a swath of her hair and pulled her mouth to his, their previous hesitancy and intent giving way to a frenetic intensity that neither had felt in quite some time. Clothing fell to the floor as they stumbled over the various items left there, landing with a thud against the wall right next to his guitar.

“Will you play for me someday?” Y/N asked, stepping out of her skirt. 

Eddie nodded, moaning when she bit his lower lip and ripped his belt from its loops. “Absolutely.” His light-hearted smile fell as she dropped to her knees before him.

Looping her fingers under his jeans and boxers, she replied. “I’ll hold you to it.” His cock sprang free, and she smiled against him, placing kisses from the base of his shaft to the tip of his cock.

He let out a shaky breath when she added her tongue to the mix, nearly losing his balance as his knees gave way slightly. She laughed against the curls at the base of his cock and placed her hands against the wall on either side of him. “I’ve got you,” she said melodically. 

When he looked down, he nearly lost it, her eyes glossed over in ecstasy, lips plump and dewy with spit. “Fuck,” he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Need...” As she wrapped her lips around him, all thought was cut off and the rest of what he was going to say got caught in his throat.

Raw need permeated every nerve, his body on fire at the feel of her mouth, warm, wet, and swirling around his shaft. Slipping his hands into her hair, he guided her movements, showing her what he liked without saying a word. They fell into a rhythm of groans and thrusts, his cock randomly hitting the back of her throat, the feeling shooting straight to her pussy. When she moaned around him, he nearly came, pulling her off him just in time. “Wait,” he said, eyes hooded with need, “have to be inside you.”

Pulling her toward the bed, he knocked some of his knick-knacks over trying to grab for a condom. He quickly sheathed himself and fell back onto the bed, guiding himself into her with one smooth movement.

“Holy fuck,” they groaned simultaneously.

Pure, unadulterated lust overcame the lingering effects of the joint. Leaning forward, she grasped his lips in a kiss as her hips bucked up and down. "Fuck me, Munson."

Eddie slipped his hands into her hair, gently tugging at the scalp and smiling against her as she whimpered. She smelled like weed and sunshine, the scent filling his nose as he pulled her down onto him, filling her fully.

Without a word, he flipped her over and let instinct take over, grinding slowly into her sweet cunt until she was crying out, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Holy hell,” she breathed.

He pulled her in close, reveling in the feel of her sweat-slick skin against his. “I really hope you get out of this town, Y/N. You deserve it.”

“You do too, Eddie. What would you do if you got out of here?”

He pondered the question for a moment. "Honestly, I don't know. I've never believed I'd get out...until this year. I feel like I might actually graduate at 20."

"I'll help," she said sincerely, looking up at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I'll tutor you in math and once you graduate maybe we can shove off to one of the coasts. I can study marine life, you can play for me, and you'll figure out what you want to do with your life."

That sounded perfect, almost too good to be true. "I'd like that," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "It's finally gonna be my year."

[too-much-tma-stuff]

You Stay Away From Her (part 11)

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It was decided that the Justice League’s official channel would work on the governmental side of the GIW, laws, and PR, leaving it to the less official channels like the younger group, and Hood and Hyena to raid the bases. It wouldn’t be the best look but they couldn’t leave them any longer knowing there might be other sentient beings suffering in there. As long as the JL’s core members tacitly condemned their actions and the teams involved were sneaky it shouldn’t hinder the repeal efforts too much. Besides, constantly having to repair damaged infrastructure and replace dead staff would make keeping the GIW running very expensive.

Danny felt much better by the end of the talk. The JL was taking this much more seriously then he had feared, and they hadn’t once brought up that he might technically be a villain since his panic attack. He felt better but he was still exhausted, and he leaned against Jason’s shoulder, taking strength from his partner as the meeting wound down. Things seemed settled and he was looking forward to going home, hopefully getting some junk food and candy, and maybe some alcohol because he needed a Drink.

“Alright, with that settled there is one more thing I’d like to discuss before we adjourn the meeting,” Batman said, leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. 

Danny bit back a groan. What more could Bruce possibly want to talk about? Danny wanted to go hooome. 

“I am under the impression that Phantasm is in need of a guardian-”

“No I’m not!” Phantasm interrupted Batman, glaring at him fiercely. 

“She’s not, not really,” Hyena chuckled, shaking his head and resting a hand on her shoulder. “She’s been on her own since just a few months after her creation.”

“And it’s not like Vlad was a good guardian before that,” Ellie added. Danny nodded. 

“But needing one or not, having one might be good for you.” Danny told her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “After everything you’ve been through, having a good guardian to help take care of you while you work through it?” She hesitated, but then she nodded, Danny was grateful for her trust.

“I would be willing too-” Batman started before Hyena interrupted him. 

“No! Not you, and not Superman!” Hyena insisted, pointing an accusing finger at their end of the table. 

“It’s not up to you-” Superman started this time, sounding offended. 

“He’s my template! My only family, I trust him and I’m not going with anyone he doesn’t like,” Ellie growled at the two of them.

Reminded of how much he loved her, Danny gave her a one armed hug. He'd forgotten how ride or die she could be. “If they’d be willing, Martian Manhunter or Wonder Woman would be best. You both have powers, and experiences in common with her. But I don’t trust you with a clone,” He said, glaring at Superman. “I speak Kryptonian, I know what Kon-El means. You’re a piece of shit!” At least he had the decency to look chagrined. “And you!” Hyena pointed at Batman. “I know how you fuck up your kids. I’m dating one of your fucked up kids! You stay the hell away from her.”

Danny saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Nightwing had rested a hand on Jason’s arm and Robin and Superboy were behind them now, Tim supporting Jason and Danny, Kon supporting him and Ellie. It took Danny a moment to realize how heavy the silence had suddenly become and process what he had just said. He looked at Jason with regret and horror, seeing Jason shake his head subtly and grab Danny’s hand. At least he wasn’t mad.

“What do you mean you're dating one of Batman’s sons?” Wonder Woman asked, soft and dangerous. 

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Jason was either genuinely startled or doing a good job faking it. Then he scoffed and shook his head. “What am I talking about, of course he didn’t. If he didn’t tell Nightwing I was back he wasn’t going to tell any of you. 

“Yes, I was the second Robin. About six months after Joker killed me some sort of reality altering event resurrected me and I woke up in my coffin. I dug myself out, calling for my father,” Jason said, glaring across the table at Batman from behind his mask. “But because he buried me on the other side of Gotham instead of with our family I never made it home. The league of Assassins found me first. 

“It took me years to make it back, but because bty then I was already a killer, and my own person instead of an obedient soldier, he wants nothing to do with me,” Red Hood scoffed with a dismissive motion. 

“Don’t misconstrue the facts. You returned as a crime lord! You took over the drug trade in Gotham and had a body count in the dozens before you revealed to me who you were. Which you did by demanding I let you kill the Joker,” Batman said, and yikes this meeting was now a family fight. 

“Ya? And how did you respond to that B? Did you respond well OR! Did you slit your own sons throat to save a fucked up clown?” Nightwing demanded of their father. B just barely fidgeted under their stare. 

“Besides I’m making Crime Alley a better place in a way you never even tried to. Even if you love Gotham more than any of us you’d basically given up on Crime Alley because of how deep the roots of organized crime go there, and don't you try to claim otherwise! But I’m an Ally kid, was before you pulled me out of there, will be till I die. So I’m making it safer in the way that works for them! Setting up safe injection sites and rehabs, making it against the rules to sell to, or use kids, setting up safe houses for the working girls. I’m making it a safer place for the people who have always lived there. Not trying to make it the sort of place people will set up fancy coffee shops.”

“It’s against the law. You are not above the law,” Batman hissed at him.

Jason clearly telegraphed rolling his eyes at B. “Then stop being a vigilante, because what you’re doing is against the law too.”

“We’ve gotten off topic again,” Martian Manhunter butted in again, giving Batman a warning look. “I will take on the role of mentoring Phantasm. It’s been a while since I took a young hero under my wing. It will be refreshing to do it again.”

“Thank you,” Hyena said genuinely, smiling at Martian Manhunter from behind his mask.

“Ya I bet you like that,” Ellie said, lightening the mood with her teasing tone. “MM has been your favourite hero since you were a kid, and now you have an excuse to talk to him more.”

Hyena blushed and hissed at her only for her to laugh in his face. If they weren’t in public he would have tackled her and started play-fighting. As it was he resigned himself to letting her get away with embarrassing him for now. 

Manhunter chuckled gently and give Danny a very small smile. “I’m flattered to have been your favourite hero. It is a rarer honour for me then some of the others.”

“Ya…” Danny breathed, a little starstruck before he shook himself out of it and stood up. “Well, if that’s all I think Hood and I are ready to go home,” He said, giving Jason a slightly pleading look. He nodded and stood up as well, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist. 

“That was a good meeting. Remember, if you need help with anything from the Realms, call us. Or any apocalyptic threats I guess, call us,” He reminded before ushering Danny out. The Teen Titans and the present members of the Bat-family sort of formed ranks around Jason, Danny, and Ellie and escorted them out of the room.

The adults were quiet as they left, but as soon as the door closed behind them Danny heard a cacophony of voices, and had to duck his head to hide a grin. It seemed like what Jason had said had managed to start a fight, good, B deserved it! 

Danny snuggled against Jason’s side as Tim put in coordinates and verification in the Zeta-tube to get Jason and Danny back to the Bat Cave. Before they left Danny turned and hugged Ellie tightly again. “Go back with the Teen Titans okay? And come visit me.”

“You have to come visit me too!” Ellie insisted, his voice muffled as she pressed her face into Danny’s chest. 

Danny glanced a little nervously at the assembled members of Teen Titans, “Starlight I’m not sure that they’d want me to-”

“No, it’s alright. Unless anyone objects?” Tim asked, glancing over at his team, Cassie shrugged, Bart gave him a thumbs up and a grin, and Kon nodded. “You invited me into your home, you’re welcome in mine. Especially since it’ll be hers now too. Come whenever you want,” Tim promised. “Just give us a heads up first.”

“Thank you. In that case, yes I will visit you. I promise,” He swore to her. She sniffled and nodded, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes. 

“Good, I’ll hold you to it.” She grumbled at him.

Danny bit back a laugh and nodded before finally letting Nightwing and Hood guide him into the portal. It was less scary the second time at least, even though Danny was completely exhausted. 

“I’m going to take him home,” Jason told Dick as Danny leaned more heavily against him. Now that they were alone he was done holding it together.

“Of course. Is there anything I can do?” Dick asked worriedly. Danny closed his eyes tightly and resisted the urge to cover his ears too.

“No. You can order takeout to our place if you want to, but right now he just needs space. We both do,” Jason told Dick before gently pushing Danny over to his bike and on. Danny clung to Jason, hiding against his back as he drove them home, weaving in and out of traffic and pulled up to the curb, practically carrying Danny back inside. 

“I’m so sorry,” Danny muttered, his arms wrapped tightly around Jason’s shoulders, his face pressed against Jason’s chest. “I shouldn’t have brought up B adopting you, I shouldn’t have surprised you with the powerpoint, I’m sorry I had a panic attack there. I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Shhh, shh shh, it’s okay Danny, it’s okay Love. It was actually kind of fun getting to throw B under the bus like that. It’s not your fault for having a panic attack either. But yes, you should have warned me about the power-point. What do you want to do about it?” Jason asked softly, not because he was actually upset, but because the quickest way to snap Danny out of a self hating spiral like this was to ‘punish him for it’, and then talk about it after.

“Whatever you want, whatever will make it right,” Danny mumbled again, he sounded distracted and vague. Jason knew that tone of voice, Danny was having another panic attack, just a dissociative one this time. 

“Danny, none of that! You have to tell me,” Jason told him firmly. 

“Take me to bed, be rough with me,” Danny mumbled.

“Only if you use the safe word,” Jason told Danny, even though he was already carrying Danny towards the bedroom.

“I will if I need to,” Danny promised, and Jason sighed. He knew that meant Danny wouldn’t use it, but all he could do was insist Danny could and should. Trying to force Danny to would be counterproductive. 

---------

The meeting had taken hours for Batman to get back under control as the rest of the Justice league went back and forth between berating him for the way he’d treated Jason and offering him parenting advice. He didn’t want any of it! They hadn’t read Jason’s file, they didn’t know just how high of a body count he had now, just how brutal he could be now. He didn’t want any of their advice, or any of their ridicule, it was ridiculous!

Constantine had tried to sneak out but Batman pinned him to his seat with a look, muttering to him that he needed to stay, Bruce wanted to talk to him alone after the meeting. Finally he managed to regain control enough to end the meeting, ‘at least till tempers had cooled and they could revisit this problem.’ He was planning to avoid that follow up meeting as long as humanly possible.

He convinced everyone else to leave and grabbed Constantine by the scruff when he tried to leave again too. Bruce had seen the look of realization on Constantine’s face while he was watching Danny before he could wipe it away. He had controlled it quickly, but not so quickly that Batman hadn’t noticed it.

“You know what he is now don’t you?” Batman growled at Constantine once they were alone. 

“What’re you talkin about?” Constantine deflected. 

Batman was not impressed.

“Hyena. What is he?” Batman demanded, glaring at the magician. 

Constantine hesitated, glancing around them and biting his lip, as if he was afraid Hyena might pop out from the shadows again. “I think so, but it’s weird and… Well, he’s right that if he had told me I wouldn’t have believed him.”

“Fine. Tell me,” Batman demanded again, he was getting impatient. 

“I think he’s a-” And then he made a series of sounds that made no sense to Batman. “It’s a bit clumsy to translate into English. Halfa, or ‘the perfect balance’, something like that. They’re… well they’re a fucking myth is what they are! The legend is that they were an immortal race of beings who were completely alive, and completely dead. Perfectly balanced between the two, incredibly powerful and almost indestructible. There were only ever a couple hundred because they had to be made not born and the way they’re made is very rare. But they were the keepers of the balance, ambassadors between worlds. 

“Everyone respected them. But that was before the king went mad, and there was this prophecy was discovered, that the True King of the Infinite Realms would be a halfa or somethin. He killed the entire race, complete genocide and no one’s heard anything from a halfa in… I genuinely don’t know, thousands of years probably,” Constantine shrugged again. “I’d heard about them. Ancient beings sometimes lament their loss, that things were better when they were around to keep the balance, but I thought it was just Boomer talk! Back in my day Bullshit! I didn’t think they were TRUE!” Constantine sounded almost hysterical. 

“If they’re keepers of the balance what’s one doing in Crime Alley serving Red Hood?” Batman said skeptically.

“Fuck if I know mate!” Constantine said. “He said he was fully human not that long ago so I’m guessing he’s a new halfa. Which… I guess it makes sense, just because all the previous were gone, the way they’re made can technically be naturally occurring. But he probably won’t have any idea about that cultural heritage, there’s no one left to teach him. 

“With what the GIW did, and he mentioned his haunt being taken, and no one to fall back on, he was a lost spirit. He probably would have latched on to anyone who gave him kindness and purpose,” Constantine explained to Batman with exaggerated patience. “It seems to have worked out pretty well for them, if not for you.

“And Bats, I know you’re not thrilled about this, but think about it. What if Hyena had latched on to someone else? Even a normal person given access to the sort of power Hyena offers, what would most people do with it? Or what if he had latched onto someone like Penguin, anyone without a good heart deep down. It could have gone a hell of a lot worse! And as it is, as long as you don’t piss them off too badly we have a powerful new alley and a counter to a type of threat the League wasn’t well set up to deal with.

“Maybe try untwisting those panties of yours about him dating your son,” Constantine accused, rolling his eyes. This time when he stormed out Batman didn’t stop him. He wasn’t sure how helpful the information Constantine had given him was, but he knew he’d gotten everything he was going to get out of the magician. 

He had his own research to do. 

[rosemariiaa]

~All Eyes on You~

part: 3

a/n: okay last chapter, i really enjoyed writing this its new and soo fun lol idk i love you guys wtf! i’ve tried to write smut the best i can so let’s give it a second go? it’s like i’m experienced but i CANT put it into words on here for NOTHING lol? okay happy reading lovelies 💌

warnings: angst, fluff, sexual content

Enjoy!!!

Tori lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her mind running wild. Her stomach felt weird, and her chest was tight—like something was trying to claw its way out. What the fuck is this? She had never felt anything like it before. The tension between her and Paige had been electric from the start, but now? Now it was terrifying.

She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket tighter around her. The memory of Paige kissing her, the way her lips lingered, how her touch made her heart race, played on a loop in her head. It was… too much. Paige was confident, self-assured, and so damn attractive—it was hard for Tori to think straight around her. But this? Feeling this way about a girl? She’d never even entertained the thought before Paige.

It was too much too fast. The feelings were crashing into her like a wave she couldn’t swim out of. She was overthinking everything now—what if she messed it up? What if she wasn’t enough for Paige? What if Paige wasn’t even sure about this? The doubt churned inside her like a storm. I need to just sleep this off, she thought, shutting her eyes tight and forcing herself to sink into the mattress, praying for sleep to take over.

But sleep didn’t come easily.

———-

Meanwhile, across town, Paige was lying in her own bed, the complete opposite of Tori’s emotional chaos. A small smile played on her lips as she stared at her ceiling, her body still buzzing from the time she’d just spent with Tori. Her fingers absentmindedly traced her own lips, remembering the feel of Tori’s against them.

Damn, I’m a fucking goner, she thought with a smirk, shaking her head at how fast she’d fallen. She’d been with people before, sure, but never like this. Never with this intensity. It scared the shit out of her.

Paige wasn’t dumb. She knew Tori had been through a lot of shit with Jason and his bullshit. That guy was toxic as hell, and the thought of Tori having to deal with that for so long pissed Paige off. She deserves better than that. So much better. And Paige wanted—no, needed—to be the one to give her that.

But what if she couldn’t? What if she fucked it all up? Paige’s heart tightened at the thought. I’ve never done this. Never fell for someone so fast, never felt like this about any girl either. She ran a hand through her messy blonde hair, letting out a soft, frustrated sigh. Fuck. Tori was vulnerable, even if she didn’t want to admit it. And Paige knew she had the power to break her heart, which scared her more than anything. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Tori, but she couldn’t deny the pull between them. It was so strong, so fucking real.

She turned onto her side, clutching her pillow tighter as she closed her eyes, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts. All she knew was that Tori deserved everything good in the world, and Paige was determined to give it to her, no matter how terrifying this was.

Because, at the end of the day, she was already in too deep.

———-

The morning light filtered into Tori’s apartment, but she couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling from the night before. Her body still felt heavy, like she hadn’t slept enough, even though she had collapsed into bed right after Paige left. Lying there, staring at the ceiling, she kept replaying their kiss. The softness of Paige’s lips, how her heart raced, the warmth that spread through her body—it felt so intense, so foreign. She’d never felt like this with anyone before, especially not a girl.

Her thoughts circled back to that kiss over and over, making her chest tighten with both excitement and fear. This is too much, she thought, forcing herself to push it down. She didn’t even know what to make of it, so she just tried to ignore the confusion.

Tori sat at the kitchen table, pushing her half-eaten breakfast around her plate. The toast was cold, and the coffee had lost its warmth. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the food in front of her, her mind kept drifting back to the ESPYs later that night. The award for Best Comeback Athlete loomed over her like a dark cloud, reminding her of all the doubts that had surfaced since her injury. It wasn’t just the public’s skepticism that weighed on her; even her own parents had questioned whether she could return to form.

She sighed and decided to text her stylist. Maybe thinking about what to wear would distract her from the mess swirling in her head. As much as she loved the thought of stepping out and looking great, her mind still wandered back to Paige and, even worse, Jason.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the table, breaking her train of thought. It was a text from Paige.

Hey, are you excited to see my beautiful face later?

A small smile crept onto Tori’s face at the sight of Paige’s name.

More than you know. What time are you getting here?

Whatever time you want me to come get you.

With a frustrated sigh, Tori set her fork down and closed her eyes. She couldn’t shake the image of Paige’s warm smile or the way they had teased each other so effortlessly. But there was still the matter of Jason. Their relationship felt like a heavy anchor, holding her back when all she wanted was to soar. She hadn’t officially broken up with him yet, and the thought nagged at her.

Taking a deep breath, Tori picked up her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed Jason’s number.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jason answered, his voice filled with confusion.

“Hey, Jason, I… I think we need to talk,” Tori said, trying to keep her tone steady.

“What do you mean? Is this about the awards? I thought you were excited!”

“I am, but I can’t keep pretending. This isn’t working for me anymore.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve been through so much together!” Jason’s voice grew defensive.

“Exactly. We’ve been through a lot, and I think I need to move on. I’ve been feeling lost in this relationship.”

“What? You can’t just throw this all away because of some doubt! We can work through it, Tori! We always do!”

Tori felt her frustration bubbling over. “It’s not just about doubt, Jason. It’s about how I feel when I’m with you. It’s exhausting, and I can’t keep pretending everything is okay when it’s not.”

“Is it because of that girl?” Jason asked, his tone shifting to something sharper. “You’ve been hanging out with her a lot. Is she the reason you’re suddenly so unhappy with us?”

“What? No! This isn’t about her! it feels like we’re going in circles, and I need to focus on my career right now.”

“Then let’s figure it out together! you’re just shutting me out! It feels like you’re picking her over me,” he shot back, his voice thick with emotion.

“Jason, you’re not listening to me! This isn’t about choosing anyone over you. I just need space to figure myself out. Can’t you see that?”

There was a pause on the other end, the tension heavy. Tori felt a knot tightening in her stomach.

“I can’t believe this. After everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to give up?” he said, his voice now barely above a whisper.

“I’m not giving up; I’m trying to be honest. I think it’s best for both of us if we break up,” Tori replied, her heart racing.

Jason let out a sharp breath. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

“Yes, I think I am,” she said softly, her resolve solidifying.

“Fine. Whatever. Just know that you’re making a huge mistake,” he muttered before hanging up.

Tori stared at her phone in disbelief, the weight of the conversation crashing over her. She tossed it onto the couch and changed into a pair of comfy sweats and a cozy hoodie, trying to shake off the unease.

With her heart still racing, she sank back onto the couch, staring at the wall as she waited for Paige to arrive.

————-

Paige lounged on her couch, scrolling through Tori’s Instagram feed, a mix of admiration and nerves bubbling up inside her. She couldn’t help but wonder what Tori was thinking about, especially with the ESPYs so close. Should she text her? Was she overstepping?

Just as she was about to put her phone down, a notification pinged. Tori’s name lit up the screen: “I’m ready”

Paige’s heart fluttered at the message. A smile spread across her face as she quickly typed back, “Omw”

She stood up, shaking off the nerves that had settled in her stomach. Tonight was important, not just for Tori but for them. She knew she had unresolved feelings, and the thought of finally addressing them sent her heart racing.

As she made her way to the car, she tried to push any doubts aside. Tori needed her support, and Paige was determined to be there for her. The drive to Tori’s house felt like it took forever, but as she pulled into the driveway, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. Tonight was going to be a turning point—she just hoped Tori felt the same way.

Paige stands at Tori’s front door, her excitement about the night ahead quickly fading into confusion. She hears Tori pacing inside, and her heart races with anticipation. “Tori? Are you okay?” she calls, hoping to ease the palpable tension. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before Tori finally speaks from behind the closed door. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, her voice shaky and muffled.

“Are you ready to go?” Paige asks, smiling at the thought of spending time together.

Tori hesitates, the weight of her feelings pressing down on her. “Actually… I think I’ll just drive to the hotel by myself,” she states, her voice firm yet betraying her anxiety.

Confusion washes over Paige. “What? Why? You wanted me to come over.”

Tori grips the doorknob tightly, feeling panic rise in her chest. “I know, but I just need some space. Can you just… leave?”

Paige’s heart drops at the request. “Tori, I don’t understand. You asked me to come. We were going to go together.”

“Things have changed,” Tori responds, her voice tight. “I’m just not ready to see you right now.”

Paige’s brows knit together in confusion and hurt. “What do you mean? I thought we were making progress.” Her voice trembles slightly, reflecting her vulnerability.

Tori turns her back to the door, feeling the tears well up. “It’s not about you, Paige! I just… I can’t handle this right now. I can’t face you. Not like this.”

“Not like what?” Paige presses, desperation creeping into her voice. “You can talk to me. Just open the door, please.”

Tori shakes her head, the fear of confronting her feelings overwhelming her. “I can’t. Just please go. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Paige’s heart aches at the rejection, the confusion growing. “Tori, don’t shut me out. I came here for you. I thought you wanted to be together tonight.”

The silence stretches painfully, filled only with Tori’s internal conflict. “I need you to leave, Paige,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with guilt.

Paige’s eyes well with tears, and she can feel her heart shattering. “If that’s what you really want…” she replies softly, her voice breaking. She takes a step back, feeling the sting of rejection deep within her.

Tori presses her forehead against the door, feeling the weight of her decision crushing her. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, tears slipping down her cheeks as she hears Paige’s footsteps retreating.

Paige walks away, the weight of disappointment heavy on her shoulders. Each step feels like a defeat, and she fights to keep her composure, knowing that leaving Tori behind is the last thing she wants to do. She gets into her car, frustration bubbling within her as she grips the steering wheel tightly. “What the hell is happening?” she mutters to herself, feeling lost and heartbroken.

Meanwhile, Tori sinks down against the door, her frustration boiling over. “What’s wrong with me?” she whispers to herself, wishing she had the courage to open up to Paige instead of pushing her away.

Paige gripped the steering wheel tightly, the soft hum of the car’s engine barely audible over the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind. What just happened? The image of Tori behind that closed door replayed in her head like a broken record. Why wouldn’t she open up? It was supposed to be a night to celebrate, to get ready for the ESPYs together. Instead, they had just fallen apart.

She felt a sting in her chest, a mix of confusion and hurt. Was it something I said? Tori had asked her to come. So why was she the one being shut out? I thought we were getting somewhere. The frustration built inside her, leaving her feeling powerless. Pulling over to the side of the road, she fished her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialed Nika. I need to talk to someone.

“Hey, P! What’s up?” Nika’s cheerful voice came through the speaker, instantly brightening the dark cloud hanging over her.

“Hey… it’s about Tori.” Paige took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I thought we were making progress, you know? But she just… she wouldn’t even let me in.”

Nika paused for a moment. “What happened?”

“I went to pick her up, and she just locked me out. She told me she needed space, but I’m worried that means she doesn’t want me around anymore. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t give up on her, Paige. You both care about each other. It’s just… a lot. Give it time.”

“But what if she really doesn’t want me?” Paige’s voice cracked, revealing the vulnerability she had tried to keep hidden.

“Then she’s a fool for letting you go,” Nika replied firmly. “You’re amazing, and you deserve someone who sees that. Just keep being you, and let her figure it out. I promise it will work out.”

“Thanks, Nika.” Paige felt a bit of warmth return to her chest. Nika always knew what to say. “I’ll try. I just wish I knew what was going on in her head.”

“Just focus on yourself for now. You’ve got the ESPYs tonight! Go get ready and have fun. You deserve it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Paige managed a small smile, feeling a bit lighter. “See you soon.”

After ending the call, Paige took a moment to collect herself, breathing deeply. I can’t let this ruin everything. With that thought, she turned the car back on and made her way to the hotel, determination growing with every passing second.

————-

As the evening approached, the hotel buzzed with energy. Stylists and assistants flitted through the hallways, preparing for the night ahead. Tori stood outside her hotel room, fiddling with her phone, her heart racing. What was I thinking? She couldn’t face Paige right now. The mere thought of it made her stomach twist in knots.

With a deep breath, Tori turned to head inside when she nearly bumped into Paige, who had just stepped out of her own room, her expression a mix of surprise and something deeper—hurt, maybe?

“Oh, Tori…” Paige started, her voice soft yet uncertain.

Tori’s heart sank. She felt frozen in place, her mind racing as she struggled to find words. What do I say?

“I… I was hoping we could talk,” Paige continued, taking a step closer, her vulnerability palpable. “I don’t understand what happened earlier. I just want to—” “I can’t,” Tori interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her emotions pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket. She wanted to be brave, to express everything she felt, but the fear of rejection held her back.

Without waiting for Paige’s response, Tori turned and rushed into her hotel room, shutting the door firmly behind her. She leaned against the door, her breath shaky, frustration and self-doubt flooding her senses.

On the other side, Paige stood frozen for a moment, hurt written all over her face. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in the hallway, leaving her feeling more alone than ever.

As Tori sat in the stylist chair, she struggled to focus on the soft chatter around her. The makeup artist carefully applied foundation, but all Tori could think about was Paige. Why did I push her away? The guilt gnawed at her, a persistent reminder of the warmth and closeness she craved yet denied.

The stylist fluffed her hair, curling it into soft waves that cascaded over her shoulders. Tori forced herself to smile as she glanced in the mirror, trying to prepare for the onslaught of cameras and questions that awaited her on the red carpet. This night is supposed to be about celebration.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, Tori. You can do this. Focus on the award. Focus on the interviews.” But her heart wasn’t in it. The thought of facing Paige—of addressing what had happened between them—hung over her like a dark cloud.

“You okay?” asked her stylist, glancing up from their work. “You seem a little distant.”

“Yeah, just… nerves, I guess.” Tori forced a smile.

“Just remember, the spotlight is yours tonight. You’ve worked so hard. And, who knows? Maybe you’ll find love again after all this.” The stylist teased, a playful grin spreading across their face.

“Ha, yeah, right.” Tori couldn’t help but chuckle, but the anxiety lingered. I want it to be Paige.

————-

In her hotel room, Paige paced back and forth while her stylist, Brittany, worked on her hair. What am I going to do tonight? The thought of seeing Tori again, after their awkward confrontation, sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“Okay, but seriously, Paige. You’ve got to chill,” Brittany said, glancing up from the curling iron. “Just because you’re going to see Tori doesn’t mean the world’s going to end.”

“I just… I don’t know how it’s going to go.” Paige ran her fingers through her hair, trying to suppress her worries. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to me? What if she hates me?”

“Pfft, she doesn’t hate you. You’re amazing! Besides, there are plenty of fish in the sea if things go south.” Brittany smirked as she added the finishing touches to Paige’s messy low bun.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want any other fish. I want her.” The frustration bubbled in Paige’s chest.

Brittany stopped for a moment, studying her. “You need to be honest with her, okay? And remember, you both deserve to be happy. You might not have the answers tonight, but don’t lose hope.”

“Thanks, Brit. You always know what to say,” Paige said, feeling a bit lighter.

As Tori stepped into the sleek, black strapless dress that hugged her curves perfectly, she felt a mix of excitement and dread. She took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. This is my moment.

But as she walked out into the lively atmosphere of the ESPYs, the weight of her feelings for Paige returned. She tried to shake it off as she mingled with other guests and posed for photos. When she caught sight of Paige, her breath hitched.

Paige stepped onto the carpet, wearing a lavender kid super suit that made her stand out. The messy low bun with braids tucked in and the playful strands framing her face was effortlessly chic. She looks incredible. Tori couldn’t help but smile as she turned to face the cameras, forcing her mind to focus on the event. But every glance in Paige’s direction sent her heart racing, the admiration blooming within her.

As the awards ceremony progressed, Tori and Paige found themselves seated at different tables, close enough to share glances. Tori caught herself looking at Paige, her heart swelling with admiration as she thought about how stunning she looked, even amidst the glitz and glamor surrounding them.

When the award for Best Comeback Athlete was announced, Tori was shocked to hear her name called. It felt surreal as she stood, dazed and unable to move until Nika gave her an encouraging nudge.

“Go, Tori! You’ve got this!” Nika cheered, her excitement contagious.

Tori took a deep breath and walked to the stage, the sound of Paige’s enthusiastic clapping echoing in her ears. She’s here for me. The realization filled her with a rush of emotion as she stood before the audience.

“Wow… I can’t believe I’m standing here,” Tori began, her voice wavering slightly. “This award represents more than just a comeback for me. It’s about proving to myself and everyone who doubted me that I could rise again. The past months have been tough, and I’m so grateful for my supporters who stood by me when I felt so alone. My journey wasn’t easy, and honestly, I didn’t think I would get here without my family and friends.”

Tori paused, her eyes scanning the audience until they landed on Paige, whose smile lit up the room. “There’s someone special who has been a constant source of strength for me these past few days. Thank you for believing in me and always being there.”

Paige’s heart swelled, a mix of happiness and longing flooding her. That’s for me.

————-

After the ceremony, as Tori walked back to her hotel room, she spotted Paige heading in her direction. This is my chance. With newfound determination, she approached her.

“Paige!” Tori called out, her heart racing as she tapped Paige’s shoulder.

Paige turned around, and for a moment, both of them stood there, emotions swirling in the air between them.

“Congratulations on the award. You were amazing up there,” Paige said, a bright smile on her face, but Tori could see the hurt beneath it. “Thanks, but I wanted to talk to you about earlier…” Tori hesitated, feeling the weight of everything she needed to say.

Paige looked at her, anticipation mixed with uncertainty. “I—”

Before Paige could finish, she reached for the doorknob to her hotel room, intending to step inside for a moment to gather her thoughts. But Tori, suddenly feeling a surge of courage, stepped forward and held the door open, slipping inside before Paige could close it.

“Wait, Tori!” Paige called after her, surprise flooding her expression. She didn’t want to miss this chance to clear the air between them.

Tori stood in the center of the room, her heart racing as she looked at Paige, who stood in the doorway with an expectant expression. After a moment, Tori broke the silence.

“Can you… can you sit on the bed?” she asked, her voice a mix of vulnerability and hope.

Paige nodded, slowly walking over and sitting down at the edge of the bed. She watched Tori closely, her heart pounding as she waited for her to speak.

“I’m really sorry for pushing you away,” Tori started, her voice trembling slightly. “I knew it was wrong, but I was scared.” She paused, taking a deep breath as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill. “This is all so new to me. I didn’t grow up with people who treated me with love or care. When I started dating Jason, I thought he would change that for me, but he didn’t. I was a coward for staying with him as long as I did.”

Paige listened in silence, absorbing every word. She could see the pain etched on Tori’s face and felt a pang of sympathy for her.

“I broke up with him earlier,” Tori continued, her voice shaky. “I finally realized that I deserve better than someone who doesn’t see me for who I am. But it’s more than that. When I’m with you, I feel different. I never knew I could feel this way about someone. I love talking to you, being around you… it makes me so happy.”

As Tori spoke, her voice wavered with emotion. Paige felt her heart swell at the sincerity in Tori’s words.

“I like you so much, Paige,” Tori admitted, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “I’ve been scared to admit it, but I do.”

Moved by Tori’s honesty, Paige reached out and took her hands, pulling her close. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, rubbing Tori’s back soothingly. “I’ve had my doubts too. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to be there for you, through everything. You deserve love, Tori. You deserve all of it.”

A soft smile broke through Tori’s tears, and she leaned in, capturing Paige’s lips with her own in a gentle, sweet kiss. It felt like a promise, a reassurance that they were both willing to work through their fears together.

When they pulled away, Tori’s smile widened. “Thank you for understanding. I really want to try this… us.”“Me too,” Paige replied, her heart swelling with hope. “We’ll figure it out together.”

As the air between them thickened with unspoken tension, Paige’s heart raced, the warmth of Tori’s body pressed against her sending jolts of electricity through her veins. She could feel the weight of Tori’s gaze, filled with mischief and desire. Without thinking, Paige grabbed Tori’s face, her fingers gently caressing her jawline, pulling her closer. Their breaths mingled, and with a boldness she didn’t know she had, Paige leaned down to capture Tori’s lips in a fierce kiss.

The moment their mouths met, Tori melted into Paige, her lips parting with a soft sigh. Paige’s tongue slipped inside, and Tori responded instantly, deepening the kiss with a desperate urgency. Tori moaned softly into Paige’s mouth, the sound sending a rush of heat through Paige’s body. A smirk tugged at Paige’s lips as she felt the effect she had on Tori.

“You look so good tonight,” Paige murmured between kisses, her voice low and sultry. She couldn’t help but let her hands wander down to Tori’s waist, pulling her closer. “That dress, that ass fuck… it’s driving me insane.”

Tori’s eyes sparkled with playful defiance as she kissed Paige back, her hands roaming up Paige’s arms, reveling in the connection. “Oh really?” she teased, breathless and slightly teasing. “What do you plan to do about it?”

Paige’s gaze flickered down to Tori’s lips, her pulse quickening. She leaned in, their foreheads touching, and whispered, “I might have a few ideas…”

Suddenly, Tori leaned back, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She lowered her voice to a sultry whisper, her breath tickling Paige’s ear. “Just so you know… I’m not wearing any panties.”

Paige froze, her breath hitching in her throat as the words sank in. The playful tone mixed with the confession turned Paige on more than she anticipated. She pulled back slightly, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and excitement. “You’re lying,” she challenged, half-laughing, but Tori’s smirk told her otherwise.

“Why don’t you check for yourself?” Tori teased, her voice dripping with seduction.

Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire. The playful atmosphere shifted, and she felt a surge of confidence wash over her. “Strip. Now,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with eagerness.

Tori’s breath caught in her throat, excitement flickering in her eyes. She loved how assertive Paige was being, how the dynamic between them had shifted from playful teasing to something more intense. A slow smile crept onto her face as she realized she had wanted this—to be commanded, to let go of her inhibitions.

“Right here?” Tori replied, her tone teasing but her heart racing with anticipation.

Paige nodded, her gaze unwavering. “Yes, right here. I want to see you.”

With that, Tori stepped back, a slow, deliberate movement as she began to peel the dress off her body. She felt empowered as she revealed her skin, the soft fabric sliding down her curves until it pooled at her feet. She stood in front of Paige, bare except for her heels, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“God, you’re stunning,” Paige breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of Tori’s body. The sight made her heart race even faster.

“Do you like what you see?” Tori asked playfully, her confidence blooming.

“Like doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Paige said, stepping closer. “You’re absolutely perfect baby.”

Tori raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “Bite me,” she challenged, her tone playful yet daring.

Paige’s smirk widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. “If you insist,” she replied, leaning in closer. The air between them buzzed with tension, anticipation hanging thick as Paige gently nipped at Tori’s neck, eliciting a soft gasp from her.

“Oh, that’s what you meant,” Tori breathed, a mix of surprise and excitement flooding her senses. She felt the heat rise within her, the playful bite igniting something primal. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Paige pulled back slightly, her lips hovering just inches from Tori’s. “I don’t back down from a challenge,” she said, her voice sultry. “And I definitely won’t be gentle if you keep pushing me.”

“Then I guess I should keep pushing,” Tori teased, her heart racing with adrenaline and desire. She leaned in closer, challenging Paige with her gaze, daring her to take the next step.

Without breaking eye contact, Paige pressed her lips against Tori’s once more, the kiss deepening with urgency. She could feel Tori’s breath quicken against her mouth, and the thrill of their playful banter fueled her desire even more.

Tori’s hands tangled in Paige’s hair, pulling her closer as the kiss became more heated. “Tell me what you want, Paige,” she whispered against her lips, her voice low and sultry. “I want to hear you say it.”

Paige pulled back slightly from the kiss, her eyes darkened with desire as they locked onto Tori’s. She leaned in close, her breath warm against Tori’s ear. “I wanna fuck you right against the glass,” she whispered, her voice low and rough with intention. “So everyone can see how good you take it.”

Tori looks up at paige with those doe eyes she knows paige can’t handle. “What are you waiting for then?”

In a flash Paige picks tori up and wraps her legs around her waist while kissing the life out of her as they make their way to the big glass window.

Paige’s hands gripped Tori’s waist, her body pressing Tori’s back firmly against the cool glass of the window. The contrast between the cold pane and the heat of Paige’s breath on her skin made Tori shiver, her pulse quickening.

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now,” Paige growled, her voice deep and almost possessive as she kept her piercing blue eyes locked on Tori’s. Every inch of her body screamed with tension and want.

Tori let out a shaky breath, her head tipping back against the glass, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. She couldn’t stand the ache any longer. “I’ll let you do anything,” she whispered, her voice barely holding back her desperation, “if you just touch me now.”

Paige’s breath hitched at Tori’s words. The desperation in her voice stirred something primal inside her. She tightened her grip on Tori’s waist, leaning in closer, her lips brushing against Tori’s ear as she whispered back, “Anything?”

Tori’s head nodded quickly, her hands gripping the hem of Paige’s shirt, pulling her even closer. “Please,” she breathed, her voice raw with need.

Paige smirked, eyes dark with desire as she slowly slid her hand up Tori’s thigh, deliberately teasing. Her lips found the curve of Tori’s neck, pressing a heated kiss there before she bit down lightly, earning a soft whimper from Tori. “I want everyone to see how good you take it,” Paige murmured against her skin, making Tori’s body tremble.

Without warning, Paige slipped her hand down tori’s body until she got to her wet aching pussy, her fingers brushing just where Tori had been aching for her touch. Tori gasped, her back arching against the glass as her fingers tangled in Paige’s hair. “Oh, God…”

Paige’s smirk grew wider as she felt Tori’s reaction, moving her fingers against her clit just enough to drive her wild but still withholding the full pleasure. “Tell me how you like it baby,” Paige demanded, her voice low and commanding, teasing every inch of Tori’s control.

“Like this—exactly like this P,” Tori whimpered, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. She could barely think straight anymore, the ache too overwhelming. Paige pressed her fingers harder, making Tori shudder as her lips found Paige’s once more, kissing her with the same fervor she felt building deep inside.

Tori’s breath caught in her throat, her words barely above a whisper as she said, “I want you inside me.”

without hesitation, she took Tori by the waist, guiding her to the bed. The air between them was charged, thick with anticipation as Paige gently laid Tori down, her hands caressing Tori’s thighs.

Paige stood at the edge of the bed, her gaze never leaving Tori’s as she spoke in a low, commanding voice. “Be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Tori’s heart raced, her body tingling as she followed Paige’s instructions, slowly parting her legs while keeping her eyes locked with Paige’s.

Paige’s voice dropped to a husky whisper as she leaned in close, her breath warm against Tori’s ear. “I want you to touch yourself,” she said, her tone both commanding and teasing.

Tori’s pulse quickened at the request, her chest rising and falling as she swallowed nervously. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s for reassurance, but the look of hunger in Paige’s gaze gave her all the confidence she needed. Slowly, Tori brought her hand down between her legs, her touch tentative at first, but she then she starts rubbing her clit in small circles, definitely not how paige would do it.

Paige leaned back, watching every movement, her eyes dark and focused. “Good girl,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Paige’s eyes roamed over Tori’s body, her voice dropping even lower. “You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this… just for me,” she said, her gaze intense, drinking in the sight before her.

Tori’s breath hitched at the words, her hand still moving slowly as her eyes fluttered shut. The mixture of Paige’s voice and the way she was watching her made her body ache for more.

“mmph fuck..” tori breathes grabbing her boob and massaging it. Paige leaned in closer, her hand brushing over Tori’s thigh, sending shivers through her. “Keep going,” Paige whispered. “I want to see how good you are for me.”

Tori’s voice was breathless, her eyes locked on Paige’s. “I want you now,” she whispered, her tone laced with desperation.

Paige raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned in even closer. “Tell me what you want, ma,” she teased, her voice low and tempting.

Tori’s breath hitched again, her eyes pleading. “Your tongue… please, I want your mouth, P,” she begged softly, her need evident in every word.

Paige’s smirk grew as she trailed her fingers down Tori’s body. “Anything you want, baby.”

Paige didn’t waste another second, her lips trailing down Tori’s stomach, planting soft kisses along the way. The heat between them was palpable, and Tori’s breath grew more erratic with every touch. When Paige reached her destination, she paused, taking in the sight of Tori’s body laid out before her.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Paige murmured against her skin, her voice thick with desire. “All spread out like this… just for me.”

Tori whimpered, her hips shifting slightly, desperate for more. “Please, P,” she whispered again, her voice breaking with want.

Paige’s smirk returned as she dipped her head lower, her breath hot against Tori’s skin. “I’ve got you,” Paige whispered, before her mouth finally found its mark, toris wet cunt right in her face, drawing a soft moan from Tori’s lips. The sound only fueled Paige more as she began to give Tori exactly what she’d been begging for.

Paige didn’t slow down, her mouth working faster, tongue flicking with precision on tori’s throbbing clit , while her hands gripped Tori’s thighs to keep her in place. Tori’s back arched, her hands tangling in the sheets as the overwhelming sensations built up inside her.

“Paige… I can’t… it’s too much!” Tori gasped, her body trembling, trying to pull away, but Paige wasn’t letting up, pushing two fingers inside.

“You can take it,” Paige said, her voice low and commanding between breaths. “You’re doing so good for me.” She tightened her grip on Tori’s hips, bringing her closer to the edge, refusing to let her escape.

Tori whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from the intensity. “Paige… please…” she cried, her body quaking, but she didn’t really want Paige to stop. The feeling was too intense, too consuming, but she was right on the edge, and she knew it.

Paige felt the way Tori’s body was responding to her, pushing her even harder, mouth, fingers, and tongue working relentlessly until she felt Tori’s thighs begin to shake violently.

Paige could feel Tori trembling, every muscle tensing under her touch. She knew Tori was close, so she kept going, her tongue moving faster, pushing Tori right to the edge.

“You’re so close, baby,” Paige murmured against her, her breath hot as she took Tori’s clit between her lips again, sucking gently before increasing the pressure. Tori let out a strangled moan, her back arching off the bed as her hands clutched at the sheets, her mind spinning with the intensity of it all.

“I… I can’t—fuck it hurts so good..” Tori stammered, the pleasure overwhelming, her legs trying to close around Paige’s head, but Paige was having none of it. She gripped Tori’s thighs tighter, spreading them even further apart.

“You can,” Paige whispered between strokes, her voice low and encouraging. “You’re gonna come for me, just let go.” She kept up the relentless pace, refusing to let Tori shy away from the overwhelming pleasure.

Tori’s whole body was trembling, the build-up too much to bear. Finally, with one last flick of Paige’s tongue, she cried out, her body shaking uncontrollably as she came hard, the release hitting her like a tidal wave.

Paige didn’t stop until she felt Tori fully ride out her orgasm, her body going limp beneath her. Slowly, she pulled back, pressing soft kisses to Tori’s thighs as Tori lay there, breathless and spent.

“You did so good, baby,” Paige whispered, leaning up to kiss Tori softly on the lips.

Tori, still catching her breath and lost in the afterglow of pleasure, looked up at Paige with wide eyes. “What about you?” she asked, her voice soft and a bit breathless. “You deserve to feel good too.”

Paige smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Don’t worry about me, babe,” she replied, her tone teasing. But then, without missing a beat, she stood up, taking off her clothes in one smooth motion. The sight of Paige’s body made Tori’s heart race even more, her desire reigniting as Paige tossed her clothes

Paige settled back onto the bed, positioning herself between Tori’s legs in a scissoring position. The contact sent a rush of heat through both of them, and Tori could feel the electricity in the air.

“I want you to see how good this can be,” Paige said, her voice low and sultry as she leaned in closer, their bodies just inches apart.

Tori swallowed hard, her eyes locked on Paige. “You’re incredible,” she breathed, anticipation flooding her senses.

Paige and Tori moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies intertwined in a rhythm that felt primal and intoxicating. The air was thick with heat, and the room was filled with soft groans and breathy whimpers, each sound echoing the raw desire that charged the atmosphere. Tori’s skin glistened under the dim light, every curve highlighted as she arched her back, pushing her hips against Paige’s.

“Paige… you feel so good,” Tori gasped, her breath hitching as she pressed closer, their bodies fitting perfectly against one another. She felt alive, every nerve ending ignited with pleasure. “Please, go faster.”

With a wicked smile playing on her lips, Paige obliged. She felt the intensity of Tori’s body beneath her, the way Tori responded, each gasp and moan urging her on. “Like this?” Paige teased, her voice thick with lust as she quickened her movements, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing in the room.

“Yes, just like that!” Tori moaned, her fingers digging into the sheets as she surrendered to the pleasure coursing through her. The heat between them was almost overwhelming; every thrust sent waves of ecstasy rippling through her. The way Paige’s body pressed against her made her heart race, and she couldn’t help but rock her hips in time with her partner’s desperate movements.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Paige murmured, her breath hot against Tori’s ear. She captured Tori’s gaze, holding it with a fierce intensity that sent a shiver down Tori’s spine. “I could get lost in you forever.” The sincerity in her voice wrapped around Tori, igniting a fire deep within her.

Tori felt herself teetering on the edge of bliss, every thrust sending her spiraling closer to release.

“Paige… I can’t—” Tori whimpered, her breath hitching as she felt the pressure building, the heat pooling low in her belly. “I need more.”

“Tell me what you want,” Paige urged, her tone sultry and playful, eyes darkened with lust as she watched Tori’s face contort in pleasure.

“I want you,” Tori gasped, urgency lacing her words. “I want to feel you—everything.”

With a smirk, Paige adjusted her position, angling herself just right. She locked her gaze onto Tori, making sure she could see the raw intensity in her eyes. The sensation of their bodies moving together, the way Tori’s skin felt beneath her fingertips, sent Paige into a frenzy of desire.

Tori’s hips instinctively bucked up against Paige, driving them both deeper into the intoxicating rhythm they’d created. “Faster, please! I want to feel you—” Her voice trembled with desperation, her heart racing as she drew closer to the edge.

Paige leaned down, kissing Tori passionately, their lips melding together in a hot, messy kiss. As they kissed, the intensity of their movements grew, each thrust filled with urgency and hunger. Tori’s moans vibrated against Paige’s mouth, spurring her on even more.

“God, yes… you’re incredible,” Paige breathed between kisses, her hands roaming Tori’s body, exploring every curve, every soft inch of skin. She felt the heat radiating off Tori, the way her body responded so eagerly to every touch. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Just keep going,” Tori begged, her eyes sparkling with need. “You’re so close, just a little more…”

“Paige… I’m so close!” Tori cried out, the heat building in her core becoming nearly unbearable. “Don’t stop!”

“Then let go with me, princess,” Paige urged, her own breath quickening as she pushed them both to the brink of ecstasy. With one last thrust, Tori finally surrendered to the waves of pleasure that washed over her, her body trembling as she cried out Paige’s name. Paige followed soon after, their bodies entwined in the aftershocks of their passion.

Paige locked eyes with Tori, a smirk dancing on her lips as she leaned in closer, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. “You ready for more?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry.

Before Tori could respond, Paige plunged her strap into her with no warning, a sudden thrust that left Tori gasping. “Oh, fuck!” Tori moaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming her senses. The pleasure was intense, sharp, and electrifying, sending shockwaves through her body. “Just like that, huh?” Paige teased, her tone dripping with satisfaction as she began to move, finding a rhythm that made Tori writhe beneath her. Each deep thrust was deliberate and powerful, and Tori could feel herself surrendering to the pleasure.

“Paige, oh my god,” Tori gasped, her nails digging into the sheets as she tried to ground herself. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced. “Don’t stop please!”

Paige grinned, her confidence soaring at Tori’s reaction. “I won’t,” she promised, increasing the pace. “fuck you’re taking me so well.”

Paige drove deeper and deeper, each thrust making Tori’s breath hitch, the overwhelming pleasure washing over her like a tidal wave. Tori’s eyes rolled back as tears streamed down her face, the sensation so intense that it felt almost too good to bear. Every thrust filled her completely, igniting a fire within her that she couldn’t control.

“Does my cock feel that good, baby?” Paige asked, her voice sultry and teasing, as she leaned in closer, capturing Tori’s gaze.

“Yes,” Tori managed to whimper, her voice trembling with pleasure. She felt so full, so alive, but words were escaping her as the sensations took over.

Paige smirked, enjoying the sight of Tori lost in ecstasy. “Did Jason ever fuck you like this?” she asked, her tone laced with possessiveness, wanting to know just how different this was for Tori.

Tori shook her head vigorously, unable to form a coherent response, pleasure consuming her senses. All she could focus on was the plastic hitting that same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Use your words, baby or I’ll stop,” Paige prompted, her grip tightening on Tori’s face, forcing her to look her in the eyes. “Did he ever make you feel this way?”“No,” Tori gasped, her pussy clenching around Paige’s strap, the pressure building within her as the pleasure intensified. The simple word sent a rush of satisfaction through Paige, but Tori’s response came out more as a moan than an answer.

“Say it again,” Paige urged, her voice low and sultry, enjoying the power she had over Tori. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“No!” Tori cried out, her voice louder now, the combination of pleasure and desperation threatening to send her over the edge. “Paige, please—”

“Please what?” Paige pressed, her thrusts growing deeper and faster, pushing Tori closer to the precipice. “Tell me, I want to hear you say it.”

“Please… it feels so good!” Tori moaned, the pleasure overwhelming her. “You’re so much better than him..”

A wicked smile spread across Paige’s face at Tori’s confession. “That’s right, baby. now just let go, let me see the pretty pussy cum for me” she coaxed, her voice a mixture of warmth and teasing authority. “You’re safe with me. Just keep clenching around me like that fuck you’re so tight.”

Tori’s body responded involuntarily, her walls tightening around Paige’s strap as she surrendered fully to the ecstasy. “Oh, God, I can’t take it!” she cried, feeling the heat coiling tightly in her core.

“Good,” Paige said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “I want you to let it all out.”

As the pressure built higher and higher within Tori, she felt herself teetering on the edge of bliss, and all she could do was moan Paige’s name over and over again, completely lost in the pleasure.

“Come for me, Tori,” Paige commanded softly, her voice a sultry whisper that ignited the fire within Tori. “Let me feel you.”

With a final, desperate cry, Tori let go, cumming hard all over the strap, her body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her breathless and trembling beneath Paige’s touch.

Paige, still holding her close, leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Tori’s forehead, the warmth of her lips leaving a lingering softness that wrapped around Tori like a warm blanket.

“Wow,” Tori breathed, still trying to catch her breath as she gazed up at Paige, her heart racing.

“Yeah, wow,” Paige echoed, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sat up slightly to dispose of the strap. There was a sense of satisfaction in her movements, knowing they had crossed a line that brought them even closer together.

Once the strap was set aside, Paige returned to the bed, sliding in beside Tori. She pulled the covers over them, and they nestled into each other, Tori instinctively curling into Paige’s warmth.

The room was quiet, the only sounds were their hearts beating in sync and the soft rustle of the sheets. Tori couldn’t help but smile, feeling safe and cherished in Paige’s embrace.

“Are you okay?” Paige asked, brushing her fingers gently through Tori’s hair, her voice soft and caring.

“More than okay,” Tori replied, her eyes shining with vulnerability and warmth.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Tori’s fingers tracing patterns on Paige’s arm as they enjoyed the warmth of each other’s presence.

Paige leaned down, brushing her lips against Tori’s softly. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Tori’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she grinned, “I could say the same about you.”

With that, they settled back into their cozy spot, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment, their hearts intertwined as they embraced whatever the future held for them.

————-

WELL.. that was a lot!

tags: @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @mrsarnold

[metalhoops]

“I think I’m seeing things, man,” Eddie spoke from his spot on the Harrington’s couch. His white skin appeared paler still against the brown leather. 

Steve didn’t blame him. He was on all kinds of painkillers. It’d been two weeks since the world fell apart. Two weeks since Vecna disappeared. Two weeks since Eddie almost died. 

Steve liked to treat those memories as others treated head-on collisions. It was better not to look at them directly. It was better to treat it like it’d never happened. 

“What’re we looking at?” Steve asked from his spot on the floor, following Eddie’s line of sight to the gap in the curtains. 

“Don’t know. Thought I saw somebody outside,” Eddie confessed. 

The Harrington house had always been filled with spectres, whether that of partygoers, like front lawn flamingos in need of an exorcism or the body in the backyard pool. But those were Steve’s hang-ups, not Eddie’s. 

If all it took to be a ghost was to haunt, Eddie might be included in the ranks of his own private phantasmagoria. He kept checking each night to make sure the boy was really there, that he’d really gotten out. People shouldn’t have that much blood in them, and they definitely shouldn’t have that much blood out of them. 

Steve went to the window because that was something he could do for Eddie. He wasn’t sure why he kept feeling the need to apologise. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but hell if Steve knew if he’d done anything right either. He’d gotten Eddie out of the Upside Down. He’d put his hands inside the boy’s body, shoved his shirt beneath his skin and held it in the dark cavity that oozed and throbbed warm blood like the rise and fall of the tide.

Don’t think about it. Check the window. His hands at his side felt cold. He wondered if they’d ever be warm again. There was a figure across the street. 

A boy in a basketball jersey circled passed the house. 

Things never ended smoothly. Steve liked to think once Jason went down the rest of the vigilante crew would stop looking for Eddie, but there were some stragglers who hadn’t got the message. 

Hopper had his hands full trying to clear Eddie’s name. Eddie’s uncle was still looking for him. The whole town was holding their breath in the midst of destruction, waiting for someone to blame. Steve shut the curtains, turned the lights off and moved to Eddie’s side in the darkness. 

“Hounds of hell still circling then?” Eddie guessed after one glimpse at Steve’s face. 

“I’ll call Hopper,” Steve reasoned, reaching up to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Maybe to make sure he was real. Maybe to tell him he was sorry. 

“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Eddie spoke, reaching out and snagging the hem of Steve’s sweater.

“No one thinks I’m here. If the cops show up at the Harringtons’ it’s going to turn some heads,” Eddie reasoned, and he was right.

So where did that leave them? Sitting alone in the dark with Eddie fading in and out of sleep and Steve watching car headlights dance across the curtains, waiting for the moment everything went wrong. 

“Steve?” Eddie breathed beside Steve’s ear in the blackness. He hadn’t realised they were so close. 

“Yeah?” Steve moved his eyes from the window to look at Eddie. 

“I think I’m crashing,” he noted, a grimace dancing across his face. Steve had never felt smaller. 

“Doc said we’ve gotta wait six hours,” Steve replied, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt. 

“How long’s it been?” 

“Three.” 

Steve always wanted to appear cool in times of crisis, but he had no idea what he was doing. Some of the government agents Steve had signed countless NDAs for over the past four years had patched Eddie up as best they could and had started scrambling for a cover-up. 

In the meantime, Eddie would stay at Steve’s place. It made the most sense. Eddie was nobody to Steve. No one would go looking for Eddie at the Harringtons’, and unlike the other older teens, he didn’t have parents to answer to. Big house. No parents. Perfect place to lie low. 

Steve was nobody to Eddie and yet for the past week, they’d been an island unto themselves, trapped indoors together, watching shadows on the walls and trying to keep each other alive and sane. He felt completely unprepared. 

“Alright. Come on. Let’s go to bed,” Steve muttered, kneeling in front of Eddie. He watched the boy rise to a sitting position over his shoulder. Eddie snorted.

“What exactly is the plan here, Steve?” 

Eddie had been stuck oscillating between the living room, kitchen, and downstairs bathroom for days. They could both use a change of scenery. 

“Piggyback,” Steve spoke, trying not to think about the connotations that the word had garnered. He wasn’t going to think about Vecna. Not today. 

He expected the boy to argue, but instead, he felt Eddie’s arms snake around his throat. He held tight, but not as tight as he should. Steve had to hold on to his forearms like backpack straps as he stood. Eddie’s legs were stronger. They held firm around Steve’s waist. 

Eddie’s head flopped against Steve’s shoulder blade, nuzzling into the space. He was warm as the sun. Too warm. He was running a temperature. Steve tried not to think of the last time he carried Eddie. The boy was uncharacteristically quiet. Steve needed to do something. 

“Saddle up, buckeroo,” Steve spoke, hoisting Eddie further up his back. He felt a puff of air against his neck, a barely there laugh. 

“Hi-yo, Silver,” Eddie grumbled against Steve’s skin. 

Steve moved deftly through the dark, taking the staircase slowly and methodically. The last thing either of them needed was another broken bone. 

“I think I owe you one once all this is over,” Eddie noted. Steve was already shaking his head.

“You stick around, and I’ll call it a favour. I think Henderson would kick my ass if you died.” 

“The kid’s got spunk. I’ll give him that,” Eddie noted as the two reached the top of the stairs. 

“He’s got an attitude and a problem with authority,” Steve corrected, taking Eddie to his bedroom.

He moved to the edge of his bed and let Eddie extract himself. When they broke apart, Steve felt cold again. 

“That’s our boy,” Eddie chuckled, shooting Steve a lopsided smirk. He was definitely still high on painkillers.

Steve rolled his eyes and helped lower Eddie down onto his favourite pillow, the one worn down with age but all the more comfortable for it. He pulled the covers up around the boy’s shoulders.

“Yeah, our boy,” Steve echoed in a too-fond tone. 

He’d never let Henderson hear the term of affection. The kid had a big enough head as it was, but in the too-quiet world of just himself and Eddie, he felt okay admitting it. Once it looked like Eddie was settled in, Steve sat on the edge of his bed, feeling as he always did, like a stranger in his own home. 

“When did you last get some shut-eye, boy wonder?” Eddie asked, his foot tucking beneath Steve’s thigh.  

Friday. What day was it? Sunday. Not good. 

“Well, come on then, don’t make a guy beg. Lay down, Steve. It’s your bed. I could sleep in the spare room if it’s a problem.” There was something cautious about the offer Steve didn’t understand. 

He flopped down beside Eddie, so close the two shared a pillow. It changed the shape of the thing. It made the familiar strange. 

“You know, I had this dream last night,” Eddie began, his dark eyes still open, glued to the ceiling. He cringed, knowing all the ways dreams could go bad, but Eddie shook his head.

“Not that kind of dream,” He insisted, his hands balling into fists on the bedsheets. 

“I had a dream I was a pinball machine,” the boy stated plainly. The absurdity of the statement shocked a laugh out of Steve. 

“These painkillers are legit, Harrington,” Eddie spoke, shooting Steve a sidelong glance. 

“What kind of pinball machine?” 

“You know the Centaur one? It’s black and white, mostly. The arts got this topless guy who’s half man, half motorbike,” Eddie explained. 

Steve had no idea what he was saying, but it was nice to hear him talk. 

“Wait, if you were the pinball machine, how did you know what you looked like?” 

“Great question Steven. I’ve got no clue. Dream logic,” Eddie reasoned.  

Steve screwed up his nose at the use of his full name. Only his dad called him Steven. Eddie raised a brow, seeming to take note. One of them had shifted closer. Steve wasn’t sure who. Eddie’s hand brushed against his side as he played with the sheets. 

“Remind me again why I needed to know about your pinball dream?” Steve asked. The sound of the wind in the trees outside his bedroom window set his teeth on edge. 

“Because you’re too damn serious and I thought it’d make you smile... Which it did.” Eddie added the last part in quietly and Steve rolled his eyes. 

Eddie craned his head to look around Steve’s room before screwing up his nose. 

“Anyone ever told you your wallpaper is gaudy as hell? Your curtains match your walls. Dude, I thought rich people were meant to have taste,” he observed, the boys’ shoulders pressed together. 

“This coming from the guy who eats cereal out of the box with his hands,” Steve countered, no heat in his voice. 

“Are you still mad I used to stand on your lunch table?” Eddie muttered, shoving Steve’s shoulder before tensing. When had Steve last checked his dressings? 

He flipped the bedside lamp on, leaning over Eddie to do so. He’d been helping the guy shower for days now. Privacy was a word reserved for other people. Intimacy was a necessity.  

“Once you stood in my mashed potatoes. It was disgusting,” Steve uttered, gently peeling up the hem of Eddie’s tee shirt. Really, it was Steve’s, but it seemed strange to make distinctions. 

Eddie’s eyes trailed down to Steve’s fingers, half-hooded and slowed with sleep or inebriation, Steve didn’t know which. He wondered how much of all this Eddie would remember when he got better. He would get better. 

“You never ate the potatoes. You’d bring your stupid bagels from home,” Eddie remarked, as Steve carefully unwound the bandage and gauze. It was stained brown with dried blood, but it looked better than it’d been a few days before, no longer as red or swollen.   

The bagel comment made Steve look up. Seemed like Robin wasn’t the only one that’d been watching him. Maybe Eddie had a crush on Tammy Thompson, too. Maybe it was something else. Steve’s friends had crappy taste in women. Eddie could do better. 

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Eddie questioned, noticing Steve’s sudden silence. 

He cleaned the wounds as best he could. Eddie’s fingers had found their way to Steve’s thigh, gripping so tight he thought it would bruise. It would be another to add to the collection. Steve hadn’t been thinking of how his battle wounds were healing. He was in triage mode. Eddie’s wounds were worse than his. 

“We're going to have to amputate,” Steve deadpanned as he found the first aid kit he’d hidden beneath his bed years before, starting to redress the wound. 

“How the hell can you amputate a side?” Eddie asked with a shaky laugh, his breathing more ragged again. 

“Well, you see, there’s this new experimental procedure that lets you transplant your brain into a pinball machine,” Steve began and felt Eddie’s elbow in his side. 

“Screw you.” 

Steve laid back beside Eddie, less space between them than before, if it was at all possible. They braced against each other, the contact grounding Steve. Eddie was alive. He was alive. Maybe one day they could look at each other and not think about death. That day wasn’t today, but Steve could hope for it. 

As Eddie drifted to sleep, his head fell on Steve’s shoulder. He wouldn’t sleep for long that night, but he was used to that. He knew the weeks and months after a run-in with the Upside Down were full of fitful sleep and nightmares, but they never lasted. 

On a long enough timeline, you could get used to anything. It was strange how short that timeline was when it came to getting used to Eddie. 

More days came and went with the same imperfect routines. The two boys woke at all hours of the night and spent the daylight hours behind closed curtains, trying to heal. 

By the third day, Steve got sick of the quiet. A sombre mood hung over them, shifting and changing like the phases of the moon. It never entirely disappeared, but there were moments it seemed almost absent.  

One of these such moments arose when Steve hijacked the boombox from the living room and dragged it upstairs to his bedroom, where a slowly healing Eddie sat bored out of his mind, aching and itchy. Steve knew the feeling. The wound on his neck had scabbed and begun to fade into a scar. 

“Hey, Munson?” Steve spoke, sitting beside Eddie, spreading his tape collection between them. 

“You wanna hear some real music?” He asked, watching Eddie’s nose scrunch and his teeth worry away at his bottom lip.

“These are all horrible, Harrington.” 

Eddie turned over several cassettes in his hand, treating them gently as though they were something special.  

“You have every WHAM! album, dude. The Outfield. Halls & Oats. Tears for Fears,” Eddie listed off, his tone one of disgust. 

“You’re going to have to pick something, or I’ll pick WHAM! out of spite.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and shuffled through the tapes, tossing one Steve’s way. 

“Bowie isn’t horrible,” Eddie mumbled as Steve placed The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, into the player. 

The two sat shoulder to shoulder, as always, listening to the quiet swell of drums. Steve realised too late it was a song about the end of the world. He realised, later still, that it was a love song. Eddie’s fingers drummed against his knee. Steve tried to ignore the way the action made his heart swell. 

Steve couldn’t sit still any longer as Moonaged Daydream began. He remembered another life in Nancy Wheeler’s garage, asking her to pretend things were normal for a couple of hours. God, he wanted that. He needed a few normal hours.

He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then, but parts of him had stayed the same. He didn’t know how to change them. Nancy Wheeler faced problems head-on, but Steve? The passage of time had taught him how to stand his ground in the face of danger, but he hadn’t yet learned how to stop being chased. 

He caught Eddie’s eye and watched as a wicked grin spread across his face. Without words, he knew exactly what Steve was about to do. He grabbed the nail bat he kept by the bed, the same one from the Wheeler’s garage and sang, using the gnarly weapon as his makeshift microphone. He was a little too loud and a little off-tune.  He sang about alligators and space invaders, lyrics he knew off by heart, without understanding them.

He watched as a grin threatened to crack Eddie’s face in two. There was a reckless abandon to his smile. It was different from the glazed-eyed, half-high smiles of the past week. His eyes were keen and sharp as he watched Steve fling himself across the room in the way only someone who’d learned to dance drunk could.

By the time the album finished, he’d worked up a sweat. Eddie joined in, singing a couple of lines when he could before tugging Steve back to bed, his hand in Steve’s hair, smoothing it back in place. The action was intimate, yet familiar.

“Alright, Starman. Maybe Bowie doesn’t suck so hard, but when I’m not on the run from the law, I’m going to show you what real music sounds like.” 

“Promise?” Steve asked, his chest heaving. 

Then, Eddie did something so unlike anything the populous of Hawkins would expect. To them, he was a Satanist and a murderer. Steve had always known better, but he’d seen Eddie as a wildcard. He was loud and rough around the edges, but he also had the capability of being endearing when the moment called for it. Still, Steve had never expected Eddie to roll over, extend his pinkie and link their little fingers together. 

“I promise,” He assured, placing his lips to the knuckle of his thumb as though sealing the deal. 

The action was equal parts childlike and intense. Steve looked down at their interlaced fingers and knew he was in over his head. Warmth pooled in Steve’s fingertips. 

“Eds, I—,” A knock at the downstairs door made the words die on Steve’s lips. The boys pulled apart. Steve was cold. 

“I’ll get it,” Steve spoke, picking up the discarded nail bat and trudging down the stairs. 

He hoped it was one of the door-knocking jocks. Some primal part of him felt like hitting something. Years before, he would have questioned if he was the kind of person who could do it, but now he knew he could. 

Steve clutched at the bat hidden behind his back as he swung open the door, coming face-to-face with an older man dressed in too-short jean shorts, holding an armful of paper bags. He looked familiar. He’d seen the man with Hopper. A furrow etched its way onto his brow. 

“Aren’t you going to let your beloved uncle in, Steve?” The man spoke, loud enough for the people in the next neighbourhood to hear. 

“Right,” Steve mumbled, pushing the door open and stepping to the side. 

The man walked through the house as though he’d grown up within their walls, dropping the paper bags on the countertop, switching on the lights and examining the space. 

“Hopper sent me with supplies. It’d draw too much attention having the feds at your front door, but a visit from your favourite Uncle Murray? That’s incognito. I’ve got groceries and painkillers, slipped in some vodka too, on the house. Personally, I was thinking of making my homemade ravioli for dinner. Trust me, it’s to die for. Where’s the other one by the way?” The man, Murray, breathed, spinning on his heels to examine the interior of the house.  Steve let his nail bat fall to the floor.

“You really should invest in a gun, kid...Was I interrupting something?” The older man asked, gesturing absentmindedly to his balding head. Steve touched his hair and found it still out of place. He ran his fingers through it in an attempt to tame it. 

“No, we... I was sleeping. Eddie’s upstairs. I think he’s okay, but I could use another set of eyes. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing here. Are you staying?”

“I’m just staying for dinner. It’d look strange if your uncle only showed up for a few minutes, wouldn’t it?” Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer. 

“There’s the man of the hour,” Murray spoke, glancing up at the top of the staircase where Eddie stood, leaning heavily on the banister. 

“What happened to staying up there?” Steve spoke through gritted teeth, making his way back up the stairs. 

“You were taking too long,” Eddie muttered with an unbothered shrug. 

“And if it’d been one of Jason’s asshole friends, we’d have been screwed,” Steve rebutted, letting Eddie lean on him as they made their way to Murray in the kitchen. At least he could walk.

“But it wasn’t,” Eddie huffed, his breath warm on Steve’s neck. 

Steve kicked out one of the kitchen chairs and lowered Eddie into it. The older man watched them as a scientist observes a specimen. There was a morbid fascination to it.

“I see you two are getting along well,” He spoke. 

He’d found where Steve’s mother had stored their pots and had begun some strange kitchen alchemy. Steve had made risotto. This guy looked like he was completing a summoning ritual. The ingredients were splayed out on the countertop like objects of adoration. 

Steve sat down in the chair beside Eddie. It felt strange having someone else in the house. For what seemed like a lifetime, his world had consisted of one other person. He missed Robin, Dustin, and the rest of the kids, but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it. He’d known their isolation couldn’t last forever, but he’d never have guessed Murray would be the first person he’d see.  

“Tense mood. Why is it I always end up in the middle of couples in denial?” Murray breathed to himself. 

Eddie’s head snapped up with a speed Steve hadn’t seen him manage all week. Steve didn’t look at Murray, he was too busy trying to unpick the pained look on Eddie’s face. His eyes searched the boy’s body for some torn open wound he’d missed. 

“What? Don’t look so surprised. Contrary to what kids these days think, we did have homosexuality in the sixties,” Murray informed before pausing. He gave Steve a once-over that made his skin crawl. He felt as though he were a bug, pinned beneath a glass plate. 

“And bisexuality,” He clarified. 

Steve averted his eyes and reached over to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He was hopelessly lost in the conversation, but he knew something was wrong with Eddie. The boy jumped at the sudden contact and Steve pulled his hand away as though burnt. 

“So, what’s the problem? Still in denial?” Murray asked, levelling Steve with a knowing look. He scowled back at the man, ready for him to leave. 

“No. I think you know how you feel, maybe even how he feels.” Steve didn’t know how to respond. 

“You, however,” Murray continued, turning his attention to Eddie, the boiling pot on the stove, forgotten.

“I don’t think you have a clue. Self-esteem issues, maybe. You try to hide it, but you couldn’t imagine that someone in a house like this would look at you twice.” 

“What the hell, man?” Eddie breathed with a huff of indignation. Murray showed no signs of stopping. His eyes were back on Steve. 

“So, what’s holding you back? You got your heart broken after Nancy Wheeler. Let me guess, you keep saying how much you want commitment, but you keep dating the wrong people, people who don’t want to be tied down. That, my boy, is self-sabotage and him,” Murray spoke, indicating Eddie with a wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the rice. 

“He looks like a long-haul kind of guy.” 

“Dude,” Eddie interjected. 

“What? You’re both obviously attracted to one another. Don’t lie. I have eyes. You’re telling me that all this near-death stuff hasn’t made you re-evaluate your life a little? It’s just been you two, locked away together at the end of the world, helping each other heal. Seeking comfort in one another. You’ve got shared trauma. That kind of thing bonds you for life.” 

“Leave it alone,” Steve said, standing as he spoke. The chair scraped on the tile floor. A nails on a chalkboard kind of sound. 

Steve pushed past the older man, pulled the pot off the stove, and let a tense silence settle over the three of them. The subsequent dinner dragged on in uncomfortable silence. Steve and Eddie kept their eyes glued to their plates. Murray talked but neither paid attention. He gave Eddie’s wounds a once over, appearing as lost as Steve. He didn’t seem concerned, so Steve took it as a good thing. 

He thought he’d known what tense silence between himself, and Eddie felt like, but he’d known nothing compared to the moment Murray left. His whole body was on edge. Eddie wouldn’t meet his eyes. They needed to talk, but neither wanted to be the first to cave. 

“I was thinking of turning in early,” Steve spoke, not knowing what else to say. 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

The boys lay side by side, but sleep didn’t come. Eddie’s body was wound tight as a tourniquet. This time, Steve was the one bleeding out. 

He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe that he was sorry. Murray was right. Steve had known Eddie liked him and he hadn’t said anything because it wasn’t a problem he could throw himself in front of. It’d be easier if he thought telling Eddie would end up with him getting hit. There were worse things. 

Eddie’s feelings had become more apparent as their time together wore on, but on some level, Steve had known long before. When Eddie had leaned over into his space smelling of cigarette ash, dried earth and sweat and called Steve some god-awful pet name, he’d known. He also knew the feelings weren’t one-sided. 

That revelation came later. Eddie had been fading in and out of consciousness. Steve had shaken him awake to redress his wounds when it happened. The boy awoke, shooting him a lopsided grin, gazing at Steve with his drowsy, doe eyes.

He’d crooned, ‘Good morning sunshine’. And that had been enough. 

Steve’s heart had stuttered to a halt as it had all the times before when a pretty girl had called him a prettier name. 

As much as Steve hated to admit it, Murray had been right about a lot of things. There was one thing Steve desperately wanted him to be wrong about. 

He and Eddie were bonded because of what they’d been through. That’s what the man had said. Shared trauma. Was that all they were?

Steve was back in the bathroom with Nancy, her white shirt, red. The whites of his eyes the moment she left, red. 

He knew where shared trauma got him. He’d try to bury it. To move past it. He wanted to be more than what was done to him. People would say he was running. He was bullshit. 

How was he meant to sit with the kind of stuff he and Eddie had been through? How was he meant to fight it? Would Steve always look at Eddie and see his death? Would Eddie always look at Steve and feel like dying? 

“I wished I’d met you later,” Steve spoke to the dark room. Eddie’s locked body loosened, and as it did, he started to shake. In a moment, he’d start to bleed too. 

“You know, normally people say they wished they’d met you sooner.” 

“I mean... I wish we’d met after everything with The Upside Down. That you hadn’t gotten dragged into it. I wish that we’d gotten to know each other the normal way,” Steve explained. Eddie snorted. 

“Can you imagine me doing anything the normal way?” He had a point. 

Steve didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. The silence was back, looming large as a lunar eclipse. 

“You aren’t... weirded out by what he said? About me liking you?” Eddie’s voice was small. The only time Steve heard Eddie whisper was when he was dying. 

“I think he also said something about me liking you back,” Steve replied, glancing at Eddie’s profile only to find the man was already watching him. His face was contorted in confusion. 

“Then... what’s the problem here, Stevie?” 

Steve had never been good with his words. 

“What if we’ve ruined it?” He tried. At seeing a frown cross Eddie’s face, he knew he hadn’t done a good enough job at explaining. 

“With what’s happened between me and you. You never would’ve looked at me twice if I hadn’t saved you, and what if that’s all we’ve got? Shared trauma.” 

Bullshit. What if all they had was bullshit? Eddie finally understood.

“I don’t like you because you saved me, Steve. I like you because despite all the terrible shit you make me want to laugh.  I love that you’re shit at dancing, but you do it anyway. Also, screw that guy your risotto is better than his. You’re a good cook. Your stupid hair makes me want to slam my head in a car door and before you say anything, that’s a compliment. You care so damn much about everyone.” To Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s hand reached up to touch his cheek. 

“I don’t like you because we’ve been through bad shit together. I like you because you make me feel like one day, we’re going to get out on the other side of it, that things aren’t going to be like this forever,” Eddie finished.

Steve’s heart was a cardinal, beating itself bloody against a windowpane. 

“Can I kiss you?” Steve breathed. For the first time in a long time, he was nervous. 

Eddie’s smile was a lightning strike, bright, beautiful and something they’d shape gods after. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Eddie’s lips were warm. 

[puppetwoman17]

Would you ever expand upon your joker junior thoughts more? I think that was such a well written idea and would love to hear what else you think about it

Oh my god yes. 100000% YES!

That post before was more of an idea vomit, didn’t cover all of what I thought, so I’m happy to hear someone wants to hear more.

So, JJ’s always been a tough convo for Tim. Obviously. But it’s not just because of how traumatizing the Joker can be, or about the shocks and psychological torture. It also reminds him of a grim time in his life. With Bruce still going through the motions post-Jason’s death, and Dick frequently spending all his time in Bludhaven, he hadn’t been watched much. Save for Babs, ofc.

That’s actually why they’re so close. She’s much more emotionally competent thanks to her dad, lol.

JJ wasn’t only a big thing for Tim, but for Gotham too. In a place like this, it wasn’t hard for whispers from the Joker’s men to travel to civilians and cops. Everyone knew why Robin was nowhere to be seen. Everyone knew why Batgirl looked the way she did, agitated and worried. Everyone knew why the cops searched that same warehouse over and over, never allowing anyone inside.

Which was also why no one was happy to see Nightwing, very obviously the first Robin, return after yet another sabbatical in Bludhaven. Of course, that stopped a little after everyone collectively realized that, oh crap, he doesn’t even know!

This begins a collective effort by the more clear-minded people of Gotham to NOT disclose anything JJ related. There has to be a reason, right? No way were they going to force Robin #3 to disclose anything he didn’t wait to. It didn’t hurt that a year or two later, a mysterious figure named Oracle began effectively making every news article or picture related to JJ disappear.

Everyone holds their breaths for the next few months. What if what happened to the second Robin happened to him? What if he was too crippled to go back out?

As the Batfamily grows bigger, it becomes way clearer that Robin #3 hasn’t said a WORD. Not even after they grow closer, when the screaming and murder attempts and arguments cease. He doesn’t say a word, so no one else does either.

Tim goes to great lengths to medicate himself against any variant of Joker venom or gas. The familiar smells just… bring things back to the surface.

He tries not to act like Jason whenever the Joker gets out of Arkham. It’s already hard for everyone to hold him back from killing the monster. Jason doesn’t need some second-rate copy of his trauma trying to get sympathy. Unlike Jason, he didn’t die. He didn’t come back differently, or lose footing on his life, his job, whatever.

It would just be better if Tim acted as aloof and concentrated as he always did. Not make a big scene, and follow Batman’s orders to a T. No need to worry anyone.

Honestly, the only reason no one notices the literal war going on in this boy’s head is because he doesn’t want to cause a scene.

Oh, and if you’re wondering what he says when one of the bats finds him the next night, still avoiding them…

Yeah, he full on denies EVERYTHING. Looks whoever it is, Jason, Steph, Dick, straight in the eye and says that what they saw was fake. Edited. Something to threaten Bruce with years ago. Tim just ran because…because…Anyway, he’s fine. Don’t worry about Tim Drake. He’s fine.

Babs groans over the comms when everyone hounds on her to tell them everything. Like hell is she gonna tell them a single thing until she has Tim’s full permission.

[clockwayswrites]

The Fic I'm Still Not Writing (2)

Part 1 that I totally didn't write.

-

“Boss.”

Jason looked up from the report he was going over to see two of his people standing in the the doorway to his office. They shifted nervously and he prepared himself for bad news. While he didn’t exactly aim for a friendly demeanor (that’s what being around as Jason was for), he did attempt to make it clear his people could talk to him. If shit was going to go down then he wanted to know so that he could get on top of it.

Like now.

Fuck.

Things had been looking so good, too. The new shelter would be up and running next week. The supplemented housing for single parents and their kids was doing well— Jason had been by as, well, Jason early that day to make sure everything was on the up and up— and there had been no new shit heads trying to sell drugs on his street corners. He should have expected for it to go wrong.

He tucked the reports away and leaned back in his chair before motioning the two in. Ralph and Marco, Jason thought, placing the two as they came to sit across from him. Ralph mostly helped manage the gym and train new people not to get killed— an ex boxer and coach from when times were better. Marco had just recently risen to lieutenant.

Jason had no clue what trouble the two of them would be bringing him together. Maybe someone did something stupid and needed more training.

It seemed they didn’t know where to start either and kept trading each other uneasy looks. Jason shifted, just slightly, in the way he knew made his chair creek ominously and watched both his men start.

“So, um, us goons have been doing some reading,” Ralph finally started. Jason wasn’t much fond of the term ‘goons’ himself, but for some reason his people had embraced it.

“Reading.” Jason replied, keeping his voice carefully monotone. Where was this going?

“Right, reading,” Marco picked up. “Found some ourselves and then Yasmine called us idiots and suggested some other stuff, but well, we’ve been doing reading. And we didn’t know if you had been.”

What.

“So, we, erm, well we just thought maybe we’d pass along the important bits?” Ralph said, wringing his hat in his hands so hard Jason thought he’d tear the seems apart. “See, when ya enter into a polyamorous relationship with a new partner, it’s important to make them feel included.”

What.

“Yeah,” Marco said with an enthusiastic nod. “And we get that you and Jason already have a rhythm and everything, but Danny seems like a really sweet kid—”

“Little feral.”

“Ralph’s right, little feral, but sos you, Boss— no offense. But he seems sweet. So we don’t want to see him be hurt none just ‘cause you aren’t making room for him.”

“What.” Seriously, what?

“Yeah. Sos like, in our reading—”

Holy fucking shit. His goons did reading about polygamy for him. Because Danny had asked him to share himself. What the fucking fuck.

“—it was important that you make sure that Danny feels like he has space in your space too.”

“Yeah,” Ralph agreed and then pulled an honest to God printout from his back pocket that he smoothed out on the corner of Red Hood’s desk before sliding it over. “Small things, see? Like making sure his favorite snacks are in your apartment. Or stocking up the bath products Danny uses. Don’t just make him use what you or Jason uses.”

“He uses a 5in1 bar of soap, I’m not encouraging that behavior,” Jason growled. (Why the fuck did he say that? He only knew that as Jason.)

It made his men pause for a moment before Marco gave a little nod. “Fair enough, deserves better and all. Buy him something special to use then.”

“What’s wrong with 5in1?” Ralph asked.

“Shut up Ralph, I’ll send you some reading,” Marco replied. “Point is Boss, You have to show Danny he's just as important. We just want this to work out for you, Boss.”

“Right.”

Ralph nodded. “We see how you two look at each other is all. And how Jason looks at him. We aren’t blind, Boss.”

“Right.”

“Um, right,” Marco repeated. He stood up and slapped at Ralph’s arm till Ralph did the same. He did reach out and scoot the printouts a little closer though. “Just, we’re here for you Boss.”

Jason gave a nod of his helmet before watching them scurry out of his office.

He picked up printouts. They did research for him. His little pack of supposedly hardened criminals (fuck the fact they were more and more becoming humanitarian aid) had read up on queer relationships for him.

Shaking his head Jason set the print outs aside and tried to get back to the reports he’d been reading before whatever the fuck that just happened happened.

The third time he glanced over at the printouts he gave up, folded him up into his back pocket, and stormed out of his office. He headed for Jenny’s, the 24/7 dinner that had survived in Crime Alley for nearly 70 years through sheer determination and having good enough food and coffee that no one dared fuck with it. (Didn’t hurt that Jenny kept shotguns under the counter and was a mean shot.)

The bell clattered at his entrance as he barged in and headed to the booth in the back corner. Bright blue eyes glanced up from the pile of textbooks and notes and Danny had the nerve to smirk at him.

Jason slammed his hands down onto the table, the coffee mug rattling from the force of it. Danny calmly picked it up and cradled it to his chest.

“Want to explain to me why the fuck I just sat through two of my people trying to explain some of the finer points of polygamy to me?”

Danny choked on a sip of his coffee. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh Ancients, they—” Danny cut himself off with a snort that soon devolved into full on laughter. Jason gave up looming and took a seat as he waited the laughter out. Finally Danny recovered enough to ask, “Are they trying to talk you into it or out of it?”

“They think I’m already in it.”

It took effort not to stiffen as one of Danny’s feet brushed up against his calf. He was smirking in that way that Jason was coming to both love and hate— and that only seemed to come out around Red Hood. “You could be, if you’d give me an answer.”

“You asked to share Jason.”

Danny gave a little shrug. The motion caused the oversized sweater that Jason was just realizing was his to slip down Danny’s bare shoulder on the one side. “I figured you came as part of that deal.”

“What has Jason said about it?” He asked, as if he didn’t very well know.

“Nothing, I haven’t asked. I’m not a home wrecker. I’m not going to tempt a man to cheat if you’re not into the idea.”

Jason crossed his arms.

Danny watched him back from under his dark lashes.

This was insane.

“You know I won’t take off my helmet.”

What the fuck was he doing?

“Never said I need you to. I’m more creative than that, Boss.”

Fuck.

Danny's smirk widened.

---

Fiends, the lot of you. I'm still claiming I'm not writing this shut up. We're blaming the poll, alright?

The GOOOOONS. They're just trying their best to be supportive! They want everyone to be happy!

tag list, I guess? @addie-lover-of-stories @bathildaburp @d4ydr34min9 @sometimesthingsfallapart @idfk-man10 @vythika96 @worthlesswall @aroranorth-west @chrysanthemum9484 @ver-444 @impulsiveasshole @meira-3919 @lazy-bouqet @cryinginthevoid @thegatorsgoose @cutelittlebeanie @blankliferain @ramblingkat @ailithnight

They're absurd, you're all absurd. ...okay I'm absurd too. Stay delightful, my darlings.

Edit: master post of parts I didn't write. Nope.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason reacting to his gn crush told him that they know his secret identity so he would let them bandage his wounds?

Dick

‘You knew?’ Dick said as he sat himself down on your bed, his face covered in bandaids as his arms covered with bandages, dressed in comfortable clothing after a long struggle due to his injuries. ‘How?’

‘There were signs that I ignored or didn’t think to look too deeply in until I did, just for everything to come together and realising that my initial assumptions were close to being right.’ You shrugged as you sat down next to him, looking him over to make sure that you had managed to patch up every possible injury he had, hoping he wasn’t hiding one without your knowledge.

‘That or maybe you just wanted an excuse to patch up my wounds. Or seeing me shirtless as I’m patching up my wounds, one or the other.’ Dick teased but couldn’t help but think of all the possible danger you were now going to be in due to knowing who Nightwing was, and while he wasn’t ready to admit to everything he does as nightwing to you, he knew that if he didn’t then you wound find a way to figure it out on your own somehow.

‘Maybe.’ You said, trying to hide your feelings of sheepishness from him. ‘That or the fact that I know you well enough to see through that domino mask of yours, something that doesn’t do much to hide the more easily recognisable features.’ You add as Dick then sighs.

‘You shouldn’t know this, you really shouldn’t.’ He tells you as he reaches for your hand, squeezing it. ‘I know you were smart enough to connect the dots but I don’t think it would happen so soon. I just wish you would’ve stayed naïve to it for a little while longer, just until I was ready and felt that it was safe enough to say something.’ He looks you in the eyes where you could see his conflicting emotions there. ‘I just wanted to keep you safe from all this, but I failed at that too.’

‘Life doesn’t work the way we always want it to.’ You began, squeezed his hand back in reassurance, ‘I know that from this point onward it won’t be easy for either of us, I’ll have a target on my back but I have made peace with that fact-‘

‘Well I haven’t.’ Dick interrupts. ‘You could be in danger because of me,’ he then uses his free hand to hold your cheek, ‘how am I meant to be okay with this knowing that I might not be able to save you.’

You smiled at him and leaned into his touch, careful of his injuries. ‘You’ll always save me, you’re Nightwing.’ You tell him before giving him a light, reassuring kiss on the forehead.

Jason

‘I’m telling you baby bird I tripped.’ Jason said for what felt like the fifth time that night as you continued to pester him about the gash on his arm.

‘Or you were out being Red hood and gotten hurt protecting some kids from Crime Alley.’ You replied casually as Jason stiffened, now looking at you surprised.

‘Why would you assume i’m him?’ He asked, watching you closely as the fear of the consequences this knowledge would bring, especially when it was someone close to his heart knowing his -now not so- secret identity.

‘You come back with injuries more severe than just tripping over thin air.’ You told him as you held his cheek. ‘That and I may or may not have seen firearms left lying about whenever I visit and thought nothing of it, only to do some research and have come to find that those are the same exact firearms Red hood has.’ You add as Jason internally curses himself for getting too comfortable with leaving his stuff out in the open so carelessly.

Fatigue be damned.

‘Okay you’ve figured me out, congratulations, but you really shouldn’t know that I’m Red hood, I’m not exactly well liked.’ He warns you, not wanting you to get hurt because of him, if you did he wouldn’t forgive himself for as long as he lived.

Loosing you wasn’t worth keeping his secret identity under lock and key. He’d gladly expose himself if it meant keeping you away from harm, but until then he knew that he’d have to keep close tabs on you whenever he could.

Or he could train you in self defence while still watching over you regardless.

‘I know.’ You tell him as you patched up the wound on his arm. ‘But when am I allowed to worry of over for doing something reckless.’

‘I was trained for this lifestyle sweetheart.’ Jason reminded you. ‘I’m more attuned to fighting crime and getting hurt doing so, it’s not a big deal.’

‘It’s a big deal to me.’ You spat, blinking back tears, ‘ I don’t want to see you come home with wounds worse then the last, worried to death that I might loose you.’ You add as you began to cover up the wound on his arm with a gauze before moving onto to adding the bandage securely.

‘Well I don’t want to loose you either.’ Jason said as he lifted his free hand to wipe away the tears that manage to fall from your cheek. ‘My identity is not worth your life baby bird. Not in the slightest. I won’t risk you, you’re too important to me to lose over this.’

‘More important than Red hood?’ You asked, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two.

‘So much more than you’ll ever know.’ Jason replied without hesitation.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for ItsOleander behind the cut; a fake cryptid and a real romantic. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . ‘diamond’, the Batman repeats skeptically. Tim radiates embarrassment, then pulls a bright, shiny stone out of his hidden belt to show to it. The Batman tilts its head again. 

It’s a diamond, yes. An unusually large one, shaped more like a heart than any traditional cut. And it’s new, too. There’s no history to it at all, just faint traces of determined perfectionism and something a little hesitantly hopeful, all burnt in fire and care and pressure. And not something stolen or reclaimed, like one from a Cat would be. 

Though its new Robin tastes just a little bit like a Cat, doesn't he, it realizes. 

Hm. 

That’s different. 

diamond, the Batman says, leaning down to inspect it more closely. 

“He, uh, made it,” Tim says. “Like–for me? I mean, he thinks I’m–a bird, kind of, so he thought I’d like something, uh . . . shiny, you know? Like a magpie or crow or whatever, I guess. Or, um, possibly a penguin. Possibly he thinks I’m a penguin, given this is technically a rock. God, does he think I’m a penguin?” 

hm, the Batman says, frowning consideringly while Tim keeps muttering to himself in concern about penguins, which is understandable, because Oswald Cobblepot isn’t the kind of role model a Robin should aspire after. It’s never had a Robin who could make diamonds, but supposes there's a first time for everything. Not every Robin can do a quadruple backflip or deduce its summoning ritual either. 

. . . or jack tires off a car that doesn't even count as an actual physical “car”. 

Or . . . draw. 

The Batman–pauses. Frowns. 

None of its Robins draw. Why did it just . . . 

Its new Robin flies back up with Dick curled around his shoulders like a cape. Maybe he draws, the Batman thinks, flicking its approximation of eyes towards him. He made a diamond, after all, and cut it to shape. That’s . . . artistic, technically. The human kind of “artistic”, anyway. 

Humans have very strange ideas of what counts as artistic, but the Batman supposes that’s just how humans are. “Just how humans are” has been a necessary thing to internalize, at this point in its existence. 

. . . it still doesn’t know how Jason got the damn tires off, even now. 

“Um, hi. Again. Sir/ma’am. Ma’am/sir?” its new Robin attempts as he lets Dick back down on the ledge, looking nervous. Tim was nervous to meet it too. Dick was too grief-stricken and angry for anything like that, though, and Jason just wasn’t afraid of it at all. 

And . . . 

And–it doesn’t know why it thought “and”, there. It hasn’t had another Robin. There was Batgirl and now there’s the Spoiler, but . . . 

There’s no reason to think “and” there. 

But it thought “and” anyway, didn’t it, it notes, and files that thought away in the place where its mind would go. 

If it had one, obviously. 

“Baaaaatman,” Tim hisses, Robin’s voice layered back over his own. 

“Batman,” its new Robin repeats, then puffs himself up like he’s displaying plumage he’s not wearing–his colors are bright, at least, but not the right colors; not colors meant for flying. The Batman appreciates the instinct, at least. “Um–I’m Superboy! Hey! Nice to meet you!” 

The Batman glowers. Dick, inexplicably, starts sniggering, and Tim makes a pained sound. Its new Robin–not Superboy–looks more nervous, hiding his hands behind his back. The Batman resists the urge to sweep off to go screech at Superman. Barely resists, but resists. 

Its new Robin is just as new as the diamond he made, though, and clearly worried about its reaction. It doesn’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

It’ll screech at Superman later, though. 

meet, it says, leaning forward over the ledge and letting the shadows of its cape wrap underneath its new Robin’s legs, just in case. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to catch. 

A net. 

Obviously. 

He’s still flying wrong, after all. 

Its new Robin peers down at its trailing cape of a net curiously, looking interested, and then peers at it instead. 

“Huh,” he says. “You’re way nicer than everybody said. Well. Everybody except Superman, anyway. He says you’re super-nice.” 

Hm, the Batman thinks grudgingly. Alright. Maybe Superman isn’t trying to take its new Robin. Maybe he sent it its new Robin, after he woke up alive again and found him flying around Metropolis without a net. That, admittedly, would be more in line with Superman’s usual behavior. And general . . . “Superman”-ness. 

The Batman really does not understand Superman. Superman is a thing of Metropolis skyscrapers and alien skies and rolling farmlands and blazing sunlight, though, which are all far beyond the Batman’s sphere of influence and comprehension, so that’s hardly a surprise. 

It does make more sense if Superman sent it its new Robin, though, as opposed to trying to steal him, so the Batman is somewhat mollified by that. Even if its new Robin apparently doesn’t know his own name. 

. . . ah, the Batman realizes, and tilts its head slowly. 

Not “doesn’t know”. 

Doesn’t have. 

diamond, it says, and its new Robin immediately looks flustered. 

“Oh, uh, I just thought Robin’d like something shiny for his nest, maybe?” he says, and the Batman–pauses. 

‘nest’? it repeats carefully. Tim makes a mortified noise and hides his face in Robin’s wings again. 

“Um–yeah?” Its new Robin looks embarrassed. “I mean, I kinda just assumed he had one, I haven’t, like, seen it or anything. Like, I’m not trying to go into his, uh, private space or–um! I’m not doing anything weird, I swear!” 

The Batman tilts its head. 

The Batman has never seen one of its Robins nest. But . . . 

They grow, don't they, it's distantly reminded. Dick's grown into Nightwing, and Tim fits Robin's wings so differently than he first used to. 

Jason grew too, a little. For what little time it had him, anyway. That hot-tempered, fearless stray fledgling who could do his workings with nothing but scraps from the streets and a length of cold iron became a bright grin and gleeful energy and bold Robin-wings. 

But Jason only got to grow a little, so sometimes the Batman . . . forgets. 

They all grow, though. 

nest? the Batman asks again, looking to Tim. Tim doesn't lift his face out of Robin's wings. 

“Priiiiivate!” Tim hisses, and the Batman can sense the mortification rolling off of him in waves. The Batman frowns, leaning down over him to assess him more closely. Robin's talons give off the impression of dry, cracked wood and awkward mistakes layered over Tim's hidden hands full of carefully-hunted information, and it thinks . . . oh. Tim actually tried to. Didn't manage it, but . . . 

The Batman doesn't know how it feels about that. He's so young. Isn't he? Dick hasn't even nested yet; just courted and flirted and occasionally pined. 

“ROBIN nesssssts, now?” Dick teases, popping up on Tim's other side. Tim makes a strangled noise again and huddles in smaller on himself. The Batman frowns in concern. He doesn't feel injured, but . . . 

“Nooooot Nightwing's . . . busssssinesssss!” Tim hisses, snapping his teeth behind Robin's mask, then visibly sulks. “Stuuuuupid.”

The Batman frowns again. 

[mixingandmelting]

No, Between the Two Of Us - None of Us Are the Sane One

Summary: Childhood to lover trope feat. Dick Grayson where you were best friends with him since the start of his Robin days which was also when he first having a crush on you

Words: 2.7 k

A/N: First time posting in the DC fandom, so please be gentle with me! Also there will be a version for Jason and Tim. ; )

Being besties with Batman and the first Robin is an experience to say the least. Many fantasize how it might go, romanticizing the prospect and excitement the friendship may bring. For you? Zero out of ten, would not recommend. The public masses claimed them to be heroes, but only you and villains know how unhinged they were. You did not appreciate playing the middleman when the two gave each other the cold shoulder or being the center of their amusement. Especially with Robin. You swore on your nonexistent Aunt Patty’s grave that boy was chaotic evil, the agent of all chaos. You grew paranoid for months having been pranked by him every time he swung by so you wouldn’t do “something stupid”. Or so he said only to get you to scream at the top of your lungs whenever you were hanging around on your apartment’s roof, creeping silently towards you and whispering the most random fact he found. He would then cackle with glee and proceed to rub on the wound by reminding you how the first meeting between you three which led to the constant check-ups  (a whole, another story you rather not remember involving a much younger you and Robin, Santa Claus, and pajamas printed all over with I <3 Batman and Robin).  You tried to get back at him multiple times. You never once won. 

However, there were times when he wasn’t pranking you. Moments like those, he’d simply sit and brood next to you, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong before starting his rant about Batman. With little to no knowledge said man, himself, would visit you and ask about him a few minutes after he leaves. Yes, you did question why they thought it would be a good idea for a kid younger than themselves to mediate between their fights only to give up  when you found yourself going in circles as to why you still chose to be friends with them. Way too complicated and big of a headache for your small head. It didn’t seem like Robin cared either, as he would tell you everything on his mind, not a single thing held back. Hands being held or a head leaning on a shoulder was a must when he talks. When that tradition started you genuinely had no idea but you never thought about it. More like you can’t when you saw the expression he wore. 

What started when both of you were merely children continued on to high school, where you discovered his identity. The way you found out was disappointingly anticlimactic. After the many years you hung out with him, of course you would recognize him right away. The same gremlin laughter, the corny jokes he shared with his fellow peers. Oh, and the fact his hairstyle stayed the same as both Robin and Dick Grayson. 

Dick, on the other hand, obviously hadn’t thought through that. At all. Okay, sure, you were on the more observant side but still, you shouldn’t have been able to piece all that together within a semester. He wasn’t even at school often because of all the missions to the point the school had been frequently calling Bruce and Alfred about his many absences. There were plenty of guys who sounded, talked, and looked like him, including his height. He was careful. Shouldn’t have been a “dead give away”, whatever that meant. So when he came over to comfort you after a mission, hearing how you got stood up at the school’s dance, he wasn’t prepared for you calling him by his name. Worse, he couldn’t even play dumb or pretend to not know what you were saying. Not when you gave him the same eyes you always did that held comfort and support he always seeked, as if understanding everything he was going through. 

With the cat out of the bag, he soon had you meet Batman as Bruce Wayne. He enjoyed the mini meltdown and sense of horror you were having, realizing just who exactly you’ve been chummy with all those years. Maybe he shouldn’t have gloated how you should've treated them better when you gave a mean, actually painful jab to his ribs. Still was worth it. So was the impromptu meeting with his team, Teen Titans, when you started working part-time at the pizza place they always stopped by to eat when celebrating a mission gone well. You didn’t know how silly and adorable you were acting, not as bad when meeting Bruce, but definitely shy and frazzled from being star struck. Well, for a bit that was. An hour later, you were sitting and laughing with them about a mission that involved Condiment King. The way you smiled and brightened the room had him thinking for a moment that he had a shot. After all, you practically met everyone he considered family. It had to be a sign for him to seal the deal. 

It stopped and ended as a thought. When you all started talking about love, he didn’t know as much as how he didn’t know which hurt him more; you saying you weren’t going to be in a relationship ever or you, not friendzoned, but bro-zoned him. You don’t notice the way Wally stiffens or the worried glances Donna shot at him. Starfire voiced opposition to your decision to stay single. Raven, not knowing anything, gave you her support. He most definitely did not appreciate Gar feigning disappointment only to get snapped at for going over the line by Vic. 

He didn’t know how to act around you afterwards when he escorted you home. He knew he was making you worried,  more so when he kept telling you he was fine when you asked if you had done anything to make him uncomfortable. He wanted things to stay the same. Retain the precious relationship that led to his love for you. There was no intention to make that night his last night with you. Yet, how was he supposed to act when he found out he never had a chance from the start? As crazy as it sounded, he once even thought about you being a Grayson. Of course not in high school; when the two of you got much older. It filled him with guilt when he heard from Bruce how you were asking about his well-being. It felt like a knife was being twisted in his heart when letters you wrote were slipped between his homework whenever he had gone to school to get them, belatedly realizing he never gave you his number. All he could reply back was the same, lousy excuse of being busy with missions. 

You, on the other hand, waited, hoped, prayed that Dick would visit you again. You knew somehow it was your fault and you wanted to apologize, make things right. Every night you stood on the rooftop, doing homework or simply reading. The nights you don’t, you left his favorite candy with a note. Batman was the only one who visited you then, though his visits were becoming rare from the increase of crimes occurring all over the world. It was through him you learned about Dick’s decision to leave the state and go to some college in New York by the end of the school year. You ended up rejecting the invitation to go with him to the graduation ceremony, knowing there was no point in seeing Dick again.

So really, Dick should’ve seen it coming when he learned from Alfred that you were leaving on the day of. As if to one up him, you weren’t leaving New Jersey.  You were leaving the states. It didn’t help that he had been forced to hand over Robin’s mantle to Jason not too long after the rejection. He had to face another heartbreak, as he mourned over the Robin who first met you, the body wonder who was your best friend, was no more. He naively thought he had time. To debut and cement his role as Nightwing, leader of Teen Titans while getting himself back together, all to come back to you. It was apparent enough to know he didn’t. Finding out on the day of, his hands fumbled with the keys to his motorcycle, rushing to get to the airport on time. Despite breaking every traffic law in Gotham (which he ended up owing Babs on not getting taken to jail or paying a big ass fine), he arrived too late. He couldn’t call out to you, his eyes taking in the glimpse of your hair  through cracks of the closing gates to TSA. 

Years passed and he tried to get over you. First with Starfire, then with Babs. Zatanna, Helena, Bea, Lori, Clancy, mixing one-night stands in between. But none of them ended up working for him. None of them were you. They didn't have the same humor you had. They didn’t give him the same warm hugs you gave him without him ever having to ask because you simply knew. Hell, the whole reason for things to end with each of them was because they called him out for it. His whole team did. Even his whole family including Bruce, Steph, Duke, Tim, and Damian. He’s not going to talk about what happened with Alfred, Jason, and Cass. He still gets nightmares for what they put him through. 

As he continued failing on nurturing a permanent relationship, you found yourself frequently buying magazines or skimming on the webs on the latest news and gossip covering vigilantes and heroes during your study abroad. You had brought with you newspaper clippings you kept on the Robin you still missed and cherished. You could count the number of times Robin changed, recognizing none of them were Dick. Yet you never found the heart to ask Bruce what had happened, if he was okay. Nor would you have been able to when you left without ever getting some sort of contact information to stay in touch with him. 

Now, he’s in his early thirties and you’re in your late twenties. So much has happened during your lives but you still think of each other. All the what-ifs playing in the back of each other's minds, regret and hope constantly raging back and forth. But not once have either you met even when you came back a few days ago. 

Currently, you’re sitting on the ledge of the same roof of where everything began. Gotham glows beautifully without the stars, its artificial lights so bright it makes the city shine as much as it does in the day. Kicking your legs, you hum mindlessly enjoying the scene. That is until someone calls out your name. 

Your grip slips and you scream, nearly falling to your demise. Or about to until a warm arm quickly wraps itself around your torso and pulls you over to safety. Gently the person places you on the concrete floor, a few seconds passing afterwards as your mind registers you’re still alive. Guess they weren’t expecting you to get angry, two hands quickly in the air and sputtering apologies when you stand back up and rage why no sane person would ever scare the living daylights out of a person sitting on a roof along with profanities that could shame Deathstroke and bring pride to Red Hood. You’re panting in the end and reach towards the can of soda you had placed when you were sitting. And when you take a sip, it then hits to who you had raged on. 

He looks away, a hand covering his face from holding back the laughter that threatens to spill out when your face matches a tomato. You’re barely whispering when you apologize for the profanities, of course you aren’t going to apologize for everything else you both know you’re very much right on that part, horrified and embarrassed that you had done that to a very famous vigilante. Out goes his self-control when you go absolutely silent and start to fidget from the lack of response. He bursts at the face you make from mortification. 

“You haven’t changed one bit.”

You freeze at those words. 

“Do…I know you?”

Immediately he stops. The air turns tense, you looking at him with wariness as he slowly turns himself completely towards you. Gently, he calls out your name. When you continue to look confused, he does it again, taking a step closer and pulling off his mask. 

He can see so much denial in your shaking eyes. The desire of you wanting him to say the person standing in front of you isn’t him. He’s quick to grab both wrists and root you on spot, keen and trained eyes already noticing your feet turning to make a run for it. His grip on you is firm but soft, enduring all the words you thoughtlessly, recklessly say while tugging to get him to let go. 

Eventually you stop, acknowledging there isn’t going to be a chance again in the future for you to speak to him or him to you. In fact, you both most likely would  evade each other for the rest of life if not for now. When he’s sure that you won’t escape, slowly, he lets go and takes a step back.

“..Why?”

There’s a tremor in your voice, the area of concrete in front of your feet becoming bi-colored. You don’t scream. You don’t raise your voice. Dick can feel himself break, his throat and chest constricting, dawning on him how not once you fault him for ruining the friendship between the two of you while listening about, for the longest time, all you desired was to apologize. When you weren’t even in the wrong. Too soon your words start to mesh and trip over each other. He takes the opportunity to open his mouth. 

“I love you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting a smile fill with bitterness and self-loath. Your heart initially refuses to accept everything he tells you, how long ago he started to have a crush on you to how it ended up turning into love. You can never relate how his love for you ruined him where all his relationships with others never lasted for long when it’s him. The gremlin child that held confidence to defy everything on Earth, the gremlin child you developed feelings for. Silence hangs in the air once he’s done. All of a sudden you’re livid. Offended. Dick doesn’t notice, going from rubbing the back of his neck to shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to give you the space to soak everything in. When he finally can’t wait anymore, he rushes to think of something, even resorting to begging for your forgiveness. Not looking down at your hands that slowly reaches for his collar.

“Please, all I really want to say is that I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to you so I don’t even deserve to have chance to ask you to be f-”

It takes Dick a hot minute to realize what’s happening before melting in. His hands make their way towards yours, pulling them up and placing them on his cheeks. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss without crossing a nonexistent line that you probably aren’t ready for. It ends up being the right call when you end up breaking it, lack of oxygen in your lungs from having no experience.

“Next time, just ask instead of assuming things.” You growl, pinching the flesh on both sides of his face.

He doesn’t reply or lets you say another word, his soft and warm lips placed right back on yours where they belong. Where they should’ve been since back then. Too bad the second kiss doesn’t last longer than the first, all of sudden hearing wolf-whistles around the two of you. Everyone from the Bat family and the Titans reveal themselves on the roof, some clapping, most teasing on how long it took for you two to get together. You quickly duck your face into his chest while Dick chuckles and pulls you into a tight embrace. 

Later on, a ring adorns his and your left hand. Never once getting taken off, no matter the reason. 

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 29

Part 28

“Summer will be upon us soon”, Nancy said while scribbling away on some parchment.

“Mhm, that means a new crop of squires, ready to start their trials”, Eddie was lounging on a chaise, playing with a mess of thread in his hands.

“You know I can’t give Lucas any special treatment. Not because he’s my brother’s friend, nor your paramour’s protege.”

Eddie turned over onto his stomach to look at Nancy sitting at her desk, his eyes sparkling. It wasn’t quite the reaction she had been expecting. He had heard her, right? That she wouldn’t be giving anyone preferential treatment? She never did.

“You think Steve and I could be paramours?”

“....I swear you only hear half the words I say.”

“I heard you loud and clear. I just don’t think Lucas will need a leg up or anything like that. But your thoughts on me and the little prince would be news to me.”

Nancy let out a breath. “I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with you pursuing him.”

“The ‘but’ is so loud you might want to get your intestines checked.”

“But, you should know you’re playing with fire. Even if he’s been unofficially disowned, he’s still a prince. One whose family has wished for our destruction. If this goes to your favor and you are wed, have you thought about what your subjects might say?”

Eddie stopped fiddling with the thread. “I have. And I’ve decided that while I am open to hearing concerns, I’m not giving up on him. Anyone with a problem with that can take it up with me personally.”

“Hm. I thought as much. Just don’t, you know, burn the whole kingdom just for him.”

“Do you really think I’m that far gone?”, Eddie asked.

Nancy thought about how she’d seen Eddie around the training grounds more and more and how that had everything to do with Steve taking Lucas under his wing. And because of that, she deigned not to answer.

-----------------------

“You really think I’ll pass?”, Lucas asked, panting as he put his wooden sword away.

Steve was wiping the sweat off of himself with a cloth. “I think you’re one of the most passionate kids I’ve ever met. You’re on your way to mastering swordplay and archery. You’re going to ace this.”

“So like, are you planning on actually marrying Eddie?”, Lucas asked.

He wasn’t the only one curious. Everyone in the castle was abuzz with this new development and of course, the news began to move from within the walls to outside of it. The gossip traveled and everyone had their own spin on it. The king was courting a young man was what everyone got right. But as to the identity of that man, people couldn’t quite agree.

He was a prince, no a duke, no an earl, no he wasn’t from the aristocracy at all. He was in his thirties, no his twenties, no he was only fifteen because he was around the children of the castle often, no he was, but as a mentor so he had to be at least a few years older. He was very handsome, no he just looked okay, well their immortal king had written so much about his appearance so he must be ethereal. The king had written a few, no many, no an entire tome’s worth of letters courting him.

“Either way, can you imagine it? A royal wedding?”

Jason could hear some woman prattle on with his mother while he wrapped up a few chops in the back.

“I can’t even imagine what that would look like”, his mother replied. “King Edward has never done anything like this.”

“He must truly be in love. And if the rumors are true, he’s a real bonafide prince.”

Jason slammed the meat down onto the counter, jolting them both. “Has anyone figured out which kingdom?”

“Oh, this is all just gossip, Jason”, Mrs. Carver said. “If His Majesty is truly courting with foreign royalty, it would be for the good of our kingdom.”

“Well how do we know it isn’t completely selfish? How do we know he didn’t just snatch someone up?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Or how about this? If they are a prince? How do we know his intentions are pure?”

“Oh you’re being paranoid”, his mother said placatingly. She muttered something to the lady about him recently breaking things off with a lover and the woman nodded sagely before grabbing her order and leaving.

But it wasn’t as simple as all that to Jason. He alone, knew the truth of what was happening and yet he had to hear misinformation everywhere he went. In his own family shop, on the streets, even in the tavern. The very place he had met Steve one night and while he was trying to drink himself to numbness, he had to listen to a group of guys sitting at a table, trading rumors about Steve’s true identity.

“He’s not what you think he is”, Jason finally spoke up, pushing his drink away.

“Huh?”

“What’s the butcher’s boy going on about?”

“The man our king is trying to tie himself to”, Jason clarified as he stood up from the bar and walked over to their table. “He’s a lying snake.”

“And what do you know about him?”

“I know him too well. Met him right here, even talked to him at this very table. He looked sweet. Until he wasn’t.”

The men scoffed and that riled up Jason enough to raise his voice, garnering the attention of the other patrons. Even the musician in the corner stopped playing. Emboldened, Jason continued.

“His name is Steve. And he would come into town. He would, he would spread his legs and break hearts and damn those he left behind.”

“Ahh, he’s just a spurned lover”, someone commented.

“That’s how it was at first!”, Jason quickly regained control of the conversation. “I thought I was just another person on his trail, to be left behind when he moved to the next town because that’s what he led me to believe. That he was just a traveler. But then he gave me this letter. This letter told me everything and now I know the truth.”

When no one interrupted him, he kept going, telling them of the kingdom that Steve had come from. That he was a Harrington, someone who had actively pushed against their borders and that wasn’t enough for them. People began to leave, not wanting to hear the drunken ravings of a man who had been dumped.

But the seed had already been planted. And the longer this courtship went on without an official decree, the more doubt began to spread among the people. The story turned from their wise king finally giving his heart to someone, to an invasion in the form of a seduction.

“Why else would he be going after our king, huh?”, Jason posed the question to a crowd that gathered outside the butcher shop. “He was literally walking these streets, stringing people along, he could’ve had anyone. But he goes for the most powerful man in the country. Nothing he ever did made sense to me but when I got this-” He brandished the letter, crumpled but still legible.

“This made everything so much more clear. Within those walls”, he pointed to the castle, “Is an imminent danger. Today it’s just him, tomorrow it could be his whole army at our doorstep.”

-------------------------

Eddie was pretty good at keeping his ear to the ground. So he could tell almost immediately when the rumor mill began to turn against him and Steve. He hadn’t wanted to make an official announcement and thus thrust Steve back into the royal spotlight too soon. But what was happening was getting too much to ignore.

He knew of it, even before his council brought it to his attention. He was pacing about in a sitting room, Robin, Nancy, and Jeff there as he figured out how to bring it up to Steve, and how to move forward. Of course, as if summoned, Steve pushed the doors open and stomped in.

“Have you heard what they’re saying about you?!”

“I have”, Eddie said. “As well as what they’re saying about you.”

“It can’t stand. He can’t talk about his king that way. That isn’t why I gave him that letter!”

Eddie came over to Steve, clutching his hands. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look with the fire of righteousness blazing in your eyes?”

Steve would have been embarrassed to say how fast he melted if it wasn’t for the fact that it came with how warm Eddie’s gaze was on him. It almost made him forget why he had come in here in the first place. 

“As I was s-saying, you can’t let this stand. You can’t keep letting him spread these lies about you.”

“What lies? You came from another country with the sole intent to seduce your way to my throne”, Eddie teased, bringing Steve’s knuckles up to his lips.

“Is that how it happened? Because I remember carting a package and dumping it in the dungeon”, Nancy piped up.

“I remember you handing him off to me with little regard”, Robin added.

Jeff started, “And I seem to recall-”

“Now those are lies and slander that I will not allow”, Eddie said. “I have always treasured you above all, my sweet.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and change our story, I was there for it. I will say, I think I’m getting to my favorite part…”

“Hey your faces need to be six inches apart at all times”, Jeff reminded.

“We are such good chaperones”, Robin shook her head.

“Eddie, let me do this for you”, Steve said, taking a step back from him.

Eddie’s brow raised. “Do what?”

“Fight for your honor.”

Part 30

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