#nobody is hurting HIS Robin on his watch

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Jason and Tim become friends during Jason‘s Robin era.

When Jason runs away to Ethiopia, Tim buys himself a plane ticket and sneaks after him.

[lesbomaticlove]

watched deadpool and wolverine and it inevitably had me thinking about these two idiots.

(inspo from this piece by thomas horndof)

spoilers for said movie below the cut among my au musings

Sanji as Deadpool -

I thought, rather than having cancer and going through 'experimental treatments', Sanji would have been made a mutant along with his brothers, basically just the way they are in canon. Sora would have tried to stop it, because she knew Judge's goal was to make weapons out of these children, and was successful only with Sanji - but since he still retained the mutant genes, Judge spent the entirety of Sanji's childhood trying to awaken them to get him on par with the others. They are mercenaries, and of course the most effective mercenary is one that won't die.

These enhancements take a really long time to actually awaken, though. As much pain as Sanji endured, he hadn't gotten close enough to death for it to save him.

He was nineteen and locked in the basement when the fire started. Nobody else was home, so nobody else got hurt, but he wasn't able to escape easily. He ended up with burns on 90% of his body, presumed dead by his family, but his healing factor kicked in just in time to save him.

He took up mercenary work, as it was all he knew and all he felt he could contribute, but was still determined to regain his humanity through it.

Over the years he got close to a small group of people.

Zeff, the grumpy old geezer that inevitably taught him to cook, and never judged him for his mutant genetics or scars. Also happened to be an ex-mercenary and kept connections to help with his work.

Franky, Robin, Luffy, and Ace- mutant friends, the primary x-men in his timeline.

Nami and Vivi, two of his favorite people in the world.

Usopp, his best friend and the regular ass guy thats been there for him every step of the way (yes he is the peter)

After a bit of a quarter life crisis, these nine people closest to him are at risk of being taken away from him forever, and it's his fault. He's determined to fix it on his own.

.

Zoro as Wolverine -

With little to no memories of his childhood or early life, the x-men are all Zoro has.

Until he doesn't. Until his adamant independence led to all of them getting killed.

Johnny. Yosaku. It was the discovery of Kuina's body that really sent him over the edge, a spiral that lasted years before Deadpool dragged him into his timeline. A timeline where Wolverine was dead, and the fabric of space and time threatened to fall apart.

[steviewashere]

Mmmm...

What if I wrote were!Steve who doesn't abide by normal werewolf rules. Like he doesn't turn in a full moon, he can do it whenever (like a shapeshifter, but can only shift into a werewolf). Except, Steve becomes were! when he's down on himself.

His parents come home, his parents who are also werewolves but have held him away by the scruff of his neck, who kicked him to the curb from their pack. And the hurt that surges through Steve when he sees his parents is so strong that he just...turns into a werewolf.

Steve turns into a werewolf cub for the first time in his life, unsure of who to turn to, unsure of where to go because his parents are there an he doesn't have a pack. He wanders around aimlessly when he can't sleep, he howls all by himself when he's trying to find somebody to take care of him, and he curls up into a little ball underneath the window of a very warm trailer. A trailer that floods with warm amber light, that sounds like heaven late at night—crooning country songs and bluegrass—it smells like homemade meals and fills with peals of laughter. He listens to them sleep. He bites back the urge to howl to this person's music. Sometimes, he stands up on his back legs and peers into the window, just to see what this person is doing. To see what this little boy, around his age and curious and sometimes a little sad, is doing with his day. Falls in love with his nerdy hobbies, how his small voice sounds doing all the voices of a very complicated fantasy book, the way his curls grow messy from his head.

And when he finally comes to know Eddie, he realizes that the trailer he's seen almost everyday is his. He ends up in Eddie's bedroom and hears that same bluegrass music, he sees the same mini figures that he watched a very pretty boy paint some years ago. He eats Wayne's homecooked meals and is reminded of the smell of freshly roasted potatoes and stewed carrots. And he finally feels home.

One day, as he's hanging out with Eddie (just them, nobody else), he tells him that there's a secret he's got to share. And so they sit in warm silence, side by side on Eddie's little mattress. And he just changes. Emerges from his human clothes, not tattered but loose enough on this different form. Looks up at Eddie with big imploring eyes. Licks his hand, nuzzles his ringed fingers. He paces in a little circle so that Eddie can see all of him. And right before he shifts back to human form, Eddie reaches out a tentative, gentle hand and pets him down his back. From between his small, curved ears to the tip of his little fluffy tail. It's the softest and most loving of touches he's ever received.

Eddie just softly says, awed and adoring, "So you were the one I used to see growing up."

And Steve is over the moon that the first person he showed, outside of his parents, was somebody like Eddie. And then Robin sees him, comforted that the big wolf she used to see in her backyard was just keeping an eye on her (starting after Starcourt, but she was too afraid of how it made direct eye contact with her.) The rest of the party members follow suit, each with their own awe and tears and comfort.

But there's nothing like coming home to Eddie and laying by him, curled up and snuffling through his snout, with calloused fingers running soothingly in his fur. To hear him read the fantasy books, do the voices and all. And to just be loved.

To have finally found someone to take care of and welcome him.

[transvampireboyfriend]

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

"I'm just saying, if the heat bothers you so much, you could cut your hair" Nancy points out, after declining Eddie's pleas for her spare scrunchie.

Robin sits on Nancy's lap, clutching the back of Steve's seat and she looks at Steve through the side mirror like she's afraid that he's about to go on a mission to defend Eddie's honor or something but Steve rolls his eyes at her. He's not that gone.

Or at least he knows how to hide it well.

Eddie's lost several of Nancy's favorite hair accessories and two weeks ago she bowed to never lend him any ever again.

Which, does not stop Eddie from asking her anyway at least once a day.

But the point is, even if Steve wanted to, Eddie's honor cannot be defended in this situation.

Nancy's leaning behind Argyle's back now to glare at the metalhead. Steve can see them in the rearview mirror.

Eddie gasps "I would never" he says, clutching his chest dramatically.

Steve secretly breathes a sigh of relief.

Johnathan chuckles at the wheel. "But you could" he comments, eyes on the road.

Steve can see Argyle subtly laughing and shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

Today is a rare occasion, Jonathan is driving them in Steve's car.

The goal of Steve's rant earlier about having to drive them everywhere was to get Eddie to drive them, so Steve could sit shotgun and watch Eddie drive.

Instead, Jonathan had offered first and then Steve couldn't go in the backseat because he's in charge of their map.

But whatever, this is fine too. He trusts Jonathan and it is nice to get a break and to be able to fully turn around when he's talking to someone in the backseat.

"Jon, I would lose all my sex appeal, you don't get it" Eddie answers, getting a box of Twinkies from one of the many bags they packed and placed on the floor of Steve's car.

"I get it" Argyle chimes in, watching Eddie pull out a Twinkie and shaking his head no when Eddie offers him one.

"You'd still be sexy with short hair" Robin comments from her seat on Nancy's lap.

Everyone turns to look at her.

"What?" she shrugs "I can say that"

Nancy chuckles into her shoulder.

Steve opens their map again to stop thinking about Eddie's 'sex appeal', even as the guy is excitedly munching on a Twinkie in the backseat of Steve's car.

He's got cream in the corner of his mouth and he clearly put more in his mouth than he can comfortably chew. He's leaning one elbow on Argyle's shoulder, his hand holding half a Twinkie, his other hand holds his mop of hair up in a high bun, causing his cut off tank to sit barely covering his nipples, his tattoos on display and his armpit hair fully visible.

Steve's fairly certain nobody else in this car would get it, but to him the sight is mouth watering. The guy is practically irresistible.

"I don't think i would've gone on even half the dates I've gone on if i didn't have my hair" Steve muses, for something to say and to add to Eddie's point, even though he agrees with Robin.

Almost everyone answers with agreeable noises, except Eddie and Robin.

Robin snorts and says "You are relentless"

While Eddie says "You don't get dates for your hair" at the same time. In a tone that suggests he thinks this is an obvious thing.

"I mean- it doesn't hurt" provides Nancy, she sends Steve an apologetic look but Steve waves her off. It's a compliment as far as he's concerned, he loves his hair.

Eddie finishes his treat and opens a new one while everyone else gives their opinions.

"For a lot of people, hair is a big part of attraction" Jonathan is saying, trying to seem like he's not speaking from experience.

"Especially hair as luscious as Steve's" Argyle agrees, leaning forward to lightly comb the side of Steve's hair, making him laugh.

"Thanks, man" Steve says overlapping Eddie's response.

"And I agree!" he exclaims "I'm saying he doesn't get dates because of his hair." Eddie goes on, waving his new Twinkie around for emphasis. "People throw themselves at Steve, and always will, but it's not because of his hair" he repeats.

Steve feels his cheeks heat up but still asks "Then why?"

"Well, because you're very pretty!" Eddie answers easily, like everyone should already know this.

Steve keeps his eyes carefully trained on the map, like he needs to study it meticulously, right this moment, while they're in the middle of a highway.

His cheeks are burning up and he can feel it spreading to his ears.

"And that's if they don't know you!" Eddie continues "If they do know you they know you're kind and brave and strong ...and generous and funny. Who wouldn't want all that in a date?" Eddie finshes.

Oh I don't know, you? Maybe? Do you? Steve thinks.

"Even bald, people would still go crazy for you" Eddie adds, his words slightly muffled towards the end as he shoves almost all of the new Twinkie in his mouth but apparently thinks better of it, biting all but a small piece.

"Here. You want the rest of this?" Eddie offers Steve, talking through his mouthful, and presenting the small piece with his ringed fingers, right in front of Steve's face.

Without thinking, Steve leans forward and takes it with his mouth, his lips burning where they touched Eddie's fingers.

As Eddie retrieves his hand Steve realizes what he just did and how quiet the car got.

He sends Robin a panicked look through the side mirror as Jonathan awkwardly clears his throat.

"Argyle's got nice hair" Robin tries.

The car immediately fills up with enthusiastic agreement and Steve slowly breathes out.

He can't bring himself to look at Eddie as he chews on his bite. He practically licked Eddie's fingers. Unprompted! The guy probably meant for Steve to grab the treat and then eat it. If he even accepted it at all!

Steve feels like an idiot and he frowns at the map again, willing himself to ignore the goosebumps in his arms and the tickling on his lips.

He doesn't see Eddie worriedly staring at him for the remaining of their conversation, until Nancy takes pity on him and offers up her spare scrunchie to distract him.

part 2

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 4

Masterpost

Look. I don't know how to write a sword fight and if I tried this part wouldn't be coming out for a month. So here's this and if I ever do write the sword fight I'll shove it in as part 4.5 or something.

~~~~~

Turns out that Fright Knight bleeds green. Weird. It had taken a moment, both of the fighters taking the time to get to know their opponent before truly engaging in the fight. But after the fight had well and truly started, it hadn’t lasted long. Damian had quickly taken advantage of his speed and the fact that Fright Knight was clearly not used to being limited by gravity.

“So the puzzle currently stands with four letters showing.” Danny gestured as the screen reappeared.

“For winning against Fright Knight, what letter would you like to guess?” Danny asks Damian, who has returned his borrowed sword and is now standing back on the stage.

“I choose the letter O.” Damian’s quick with his answer.

“An amazing choice, Robin. There is an O!”Danny waves his hand and the screen changes.

“The next game is a race! You can pick how you want to race from: bike race, flying race... Can any of you fly?” Danny’s face scrunches slightly as they all answer no. “Apologies, your options are bike race or swim race!”

“Nobody is swimming in radioactive substances!” Nightwing interjects.

“Bike race it is!” Danny agrees cheerfully. “Who will our biker be?”

Tim and Jason turn to look at each other. “Look, if it’s between the two of us to do the brain puzzle at the end, I think we all want that to be you.” Jason states. “Let me take this one.”

Tim nods and Jason stands up. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful! You’ll be racing Johnny.” Danny says. “Skulker will be playing defense.”

They are approached by a blond man wearing driving gloves.

“Wait, defense on a race?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, his goal will be to try and let no one win!” Danny is getting very excited. “He makes his own weapons, so I asked him to make some traps and things for this, he was excited to be able to participate.”

Danny jumps off the podium, but floats gently down until he’s next to Johnny, but now his forn doesn’t have any feet, just a wispy tail. Then waves for Jason to join them. As Jason is walking over someone with flames for hair wearing a lot of metal floated past through a door that said 3. Danny noticed Jason’s eye tracking him.

“That was Skulker. He’s going to set up the racetrack. Now we need to go to the garage so you can pick out your bike!” Danny starts walking over to yet another door. “Johnny will be on his usual bike, but you can pick whichever you want out of these.” Danny opened the door and flung it open for Jason, who stood still in the doorway.

“These are all motorcycles.” Jason muttered. 

“Well, yeah.”

“Is that a problem?” Johnny asks.

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “I had thought bicycles when I heard bike race, but this works out great.”

Jason goes and looks around at all the bikes, they had a large selection.

“Johnny, remember to keep Shadow in line. I know he’ll want to ride with you because it’ll be fun and everything, but he is not to interfere with the race.”

Johnny nods. “You got it. I’ll make he sure he doesn’t do anything.”

“Good! When Jason is done grabbing his bike, get yours too and I’ll meet you outside room 3!”

Johnny starts walking over to help Jason pick out a bike and Danny heads back into the main room. He floats up to the stands to talk to a few people, then floats back down to the podium and lands on it with two feet again.

“We’ll be watching from here.” Danny tells the boys, who had huddled together sometime while he was gone. 

Skulker comes back out of room 3 and heads over to Danny. “Got everything set up.”

“Nothing lethal? You remember that one of them is mostly human, not ghost. He will actually be hurt if you go too far.”

“Mostly?” Tim mouths at Dick. Dick shrugs.

“Got it covered. Non-lethal weaponry, and set up some road hazards.”

Danny nods and Skulker heads back through door number 3, as Johnny and Jason leave the garage, both pushing bikes next to them. 

Danny heads over to lead them to the track and get them set up at the starting line.

The room is large, with what looks like three separate zones and the track looks like it’s made of glass, reflecting as green as almost everything else in the Infinite Realms. The  first zone looks like a mountain, with the track starting on ground level and going up in winding circular trails up and around the mountain before heading back down. Then there’s a quick jump in it, a ramp leading to a gap in the track, which separates the zones. Zone Two  looks like a series of mounds, or small hills like a dirt racing track, some grassy, some muddy, some sandy, all sure to make driving difficult. Another jump leads into Zone Three which looks like a cityscape. There are many different paths you can take through it but you have to go around buildings and what looks like fake traffic.

Johnny and Hood get the bikes set up at the starting line while Danny starts explaining.

“You have to go through all three zones, but the actual paths you take are pretty optional so long as you go through all of them in order. The first zone really only has one path, but the second one has some splits and the third is almost a maze, so you wont get penalized or anything for going down different streets or anything. Main points are you make it up and down the mountain, through the hills, and across the city. If you crash or skid, or Skulker gets you, you are free to keep going so long as you are uninjured.”

Danny then goes back to the podium and gets the screen up and ready to begin.

[luveline]

Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k

“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!” 

“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now. 

“What the fuck.” 

“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.” 

“I will never walk again.” 

“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again. 

“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks. 

The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.” 

It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides. 

“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.” 

Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.” 

“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving. 

“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?” 

“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.” 

Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?” 

They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.” 

“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.

“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.” 

“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”

“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly. 

“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says. 

You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?” 

“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.

“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands. 

“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”

“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”

“What about your knee? What did you even do?”

“I fell. A little. A minor fall.” 

“Will you be alright?” 

“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.” 

Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often. 

“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”

Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now. 

“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.

“Don’t start.” 

“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.” 

“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue. 

Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be. 

“How was your morning?” he asks. 

“Being a princess is awful.” 

“Yes, but it suits you.” 

You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”

“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?” 

“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.” 

He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession. 

Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.” 

“No, I was. Ask Robin.” 

“He was,” Robin says. 

“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises. 

You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.” 

“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head. 

“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says. 

Steve pretends he can’t hear her. 

[adverbally]

I’ll Be Seeing You

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?” | wc: 929 | rated: T | cw: traumatic brain injury, dementia, memory loss, degenerative illness | tags: grief for a person who’s still alive, caregiving, title from the song by Billie Holiday

———

When Eddie comes home, Steve and his nurse are sitting in the backyard. It’s where they are at this time every weekday, when Laura is there to help Steve. The yard may be small, but there is enough space for a table and chairs on the patio and Steve’s beautiful garden.

It had taken months for Steve to meticulously plan and set up— what to grow, when to plant and water, how to maintain everything— but the end result was worth it. Eddie still looks upon it with awe. He wishes it wasn’t left to his clumsy care now but he doesn’t dare neglect it, not when it still brings Steve so much joy.

Laura is telling Steve, “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think?” as Eddie sits in the patio chair next to Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve beams at him once he notices his presence. “Check it out, the rosemary is doing really well.”

Oh. Steve isn’t usually so lucid, and a lump forms in Eddie’s throat.

He glances at Laura, who seesaws her hand side to side in a silent report of how Steve’s day had been. It’s often like that, a roller coaster of confusion and happiness and defiance that nobody can predict.

It won’t get better, the doctors had explained. Steve’s history of traumatic brain injuries had done lasting damage that couldn’t be fixed. He would continue to lose his keys and forget his appointments and get lost driving around their own neighborhood. That was fine, Eddie would be there to help Steve look and remind him to put the laundry in the dryer and drive him.

It won’t get better, it will just get worse. This is what Eddie still can’t wrap his head around, five years after they got the diagnosis. Steve will continue to deteriorate, losing more of himself every day. His memory, speech, coordination, even his ability to eat and piss by himself, will be gone.

Eddie will watch the love of his life forget who he is and fade away until he dies. He’ll be a widower by the time he’s forty, most likely.

His watery smile feels more like gritted teeth when he says, “That’s great, honey. The bees will love it,” but Steve doesn’t seem to notice as he talks about his day.

“Robin came over for lunch. She brought her lemon bars and a new puzzle for us to try. Then Wayne called this afternoon.”

Eddie leans an elbow on the table so he can subtly cover his mouth while resting his chin in his hand. It’s not Steve’s fault that he doesn’t remember that Wayne died last fall. The two of them were close in the end, it makes sense that those happy moments might drift to the surface occasionally. Every time, it’s a double gut punch of missing Wayne and seeing the extent of Steve’s memory loss.

He imagines it’s like being stabbed. Knowing it’s coming doesn’t make it hurt less.

Fighting the tears back down, Eddie says, “I’m glad you two had the chance to catch up. Did you talk about last night’s game?”

“Yeah, especially that bullshit call in the seventh,” Steve snorts.

Eddie feels bad about tuning out the little baseball tangent that follows, but he is trying to soak this in. Since they got the diagnosis, there have been an increasing number of days where Steve doesn’t recognize Eddie or remember his name, where Steve is agitated and insistent that he has somewhere else to be, where Steve is quiet and listless and a husk of himself.

Today is a good day, though. Steve is smiling and animated, his memory blips don’t frustrate him, and he holds Eddie’s hand under the patio table. The sunset looks lovely and so does Steve, beaming as Eddie leans in to kiss his cheek, catching Eddie’s shoulder with a shaky grip to hold him close for a real kiss.

Tomorrow won’t be so kind, Eddie is sure. He will listen to Steve gush about his husband and the date they have planned for that night. He’ll ask polite questions about himself in the third person, like he’s a stranger. He’ll lock himself in the soundproofed studio basement and cry himself hoarse. He’ll go to sleep in the guest room because it can be upsetting for Steve to wake up next to a man he doesn’t know. He’ll welcome Laura when she gets there and leave for work as fast as he can so he doesn’t have to face the utter hopelessness of the situation for a few hours.

He’ll do it all again the following day. He’ll keep doing it for the rest of Steve’s life.

Their marriage isn’t legally recognized, but they had stood in front of their friends and family and made those vows to each other. In sickness and in health. ‘Til death do us part. They hadn’t expected those words to become relevant so soon, but Eddie will be damned if he isn’t at Steve’s side right up until the very end.

So Eddie stays with Steve on the patio, the dying sun drying the tears from his cheeks, and listens to Steve’s beautiful voice while he can. He squeezes his hand, trying not to think about how he’ll be doing the same thing when Steve takes his last breath in the not-so-distant future. He says, “I love you,” while Steve still has the capacity to say it back.

It is a lovely sunset. Eddie tries to enjoy it while he can, knowing he’ll never see another one without thinking of Steve.

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 — fingering

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: mirror sex with a side of oral fixation. reader's outfit is described but their body or other physical attributes are not.

Steve couldn't keep his hands off of you the whole night.

One couldn't possibly blame him, not when you looked like that. He'd been wanting to get you alone since you were getting ready, but you'd insisted on inviting Robin to get ready at your place — because according to you, Robin couldn't do her makeup without hurting herself at least once, and unfortunately, he knew that to be true.

He meant unfortunately not because he didn't like having his best friend and his girlfriend around, but because he wasn't able to bend you over your vanity and fuck you within an inch of your life after seeing what you were wearing.

It was ironic, since he almost said no to your proposal of a couple's costume. He didn't have the best memories of this sort of thing, and after spending the last Halloween with Robin's band friends at a party he knew almost nobody, he thought that would be it. No more cutesy shit, no more going home with someone that would still be there in the morning.

Until you, that is. Steve threw all the caution he had carefully gathered over the last couple of years on your first date, and he didn't regret it for a second. Not even when you suggested he'd dress as Sonny Bono for this year's Halloween, to go along with your Cher costume. Not when you walked into your room in a tight, chrome silver jumpsuit that hugged your curves and showed your tummy, making his hands itch to touch you.

He kept one hand on you through the entire car ride to the party, feeling your warm skin through the slick material of your clothes. When you got there, it only got worse as he saw you glow under the black light.

After one too many beers and a couple of very suspicious cups of punch, Steve felt hot. Like his skin was burning, and touching you would be the balm that would soothe him. He opened more buttons on his patterned shirt, feeling his already tight bell bottoms tighten as he watched you dance with your friends, finding his eyes across the room.

You both must have had the same idea at the same time, because you met halfway in the middle of the improvised dance floor, matching looks of mischief in your eyes. It wasn't long until you were pulling each other up the stairs and into the nearest bathroom, sharing messy kisses and giggling into each other's mouths as you stumbled into the counter.

"It tickles." You said between a giggle and sigh, holding his face with both hands. The fake mustache was a nuisance, but he was far too eager to have to take it off now.

"You said it was sexy." He countered while running his hands through your body, finally being able to grope you shamelessly, just the way he wanted. It made him feral, feeling your soft skin under his big hands.

"Never said otherwise."

Your breathy voice kept him going, and the smell of your perfume made him dizzy as he lay hot kisses down your neck, and lowering the upper part of your jumpsuit down until he fully removed it, leaving it hanging as he kissed down your collarbones, and lavishing your tits with his tongue whilst one hand dipped further down your navel and into your panties.

"Turn around, baby."

Without hesitating, you did what you were told. Steve wanted you to see yourself as he did — already fucked out, eyes hazy with lust, all glitter and spit on your pretty skin, tits out, silently begging him to do something already.

Lucky for you, you never had to beg. Steve always gave you everything willingly, almost too willingly.

His hand made quick work of your thong, pushing it to the side and dipping his fingers under your folds, rubbing your clit in slow, tight circles, and then spending his movements as you whined for more. He could already feel the wetness seeping out of you, spreading it around and teasing your hole before he dipped two, thick fingers at once into you.

Your moans were getting louder, but not louder than the music outside. Still, Steve used his other hand to insert two fingers into your gaping mouth, and to his delight, started sucking on them right away while he worked your pussy in tandem.

"That's it, that's it, baby. Take my fingers, ride'em good." He breathed into your ear, feeling your goosebumps all over. "Look so good like this, taking all I give you. I wanna give it all to you."

He accented each of his words with a thrust of his fingers, hitting that spot every time. With a hand grabbing the sink and the other around his wrist, you squeezed your grip, signaling that you were close. Steve kept his rhythm, feeling your pussy clamp around his fingers and gush slick down his wrist as you whimpered and whined through your orgasm, hips bucking wildly into his hand.

When he removed his hand from your mouth, you were a mess of drool and teary eyes, your mascara running down your cheeks, hair that was once put together, a mess. You were the most beautiful girl at this party, and only he had the privilege of seeing you like this.

You slumped back into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Steve put his arms around you, not carinha for the mess you made on both of his hands, placing soft kisses wherever he could reach. "You good, honey?"

"I'll be better if you make good on your promise of giving me it all, Harrington."

"Was that not enough?" He grinned at you through the mirror.

"The night is young. Do your worst."

[blckbrrybasket]

Good Luck, Babe.

Robin Buckley x Fem!Lesbian!Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:  no use of y/n, mentions of sex, underage drinking/smoking, fluff, angst, jealousy, allusions to a physical fight, reader is in denial, wingman Steve, childhood friends to strangers to lovers

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Robin and you have been best friends since you were kids. You offer to help her learn how to kiss…looking back on it now, there was no way you could have had a different ending.

Inspired by Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan

Knowing Robin was a privilege. So many people mischaracterized her as a weird band kid, and she was, but she was also so much more than that. She was the girl who wished she was older to be free, who stared mindlessly at the ceiling when she was bored, and the girl who stubbornly slept through her growing pains to ignore them. Maybe it was just you who looked deeper and for that, you couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to know her profoundly. For some inexplicable reason, you wanted to know her inside and out. Maybe that was why you had offered to help her practice kissing.

“It’s for whatever guy you’re interested in!” Robin snorted in incredulousness, “I am not interested in a guy.” How true of a statement that was. You groaned and shook her shoulders. “Okay! Then whoever you eventually like will be thanking me one day after we teach each other how to kiss.” Robin paused with a surprised expression, eyebrows sliding up her forehead. Holy shit, you were serious. Not kind of serious, still second-guessing serious, but one hundred percent wanting it serious.

She scoffed and turned her nose up. “I think you mean your future bachelors will be thanking me.” Falling back on banter was her only move to pretend she wasn’t as nervous as she was. “Robin!” You snapped back only to watch her fall back against your carpet laughing. Shushing her, you laid back against the floor to look at her. Once her slightly nervous giggling died down she shyly nodded. “Yeah, okay. Do you use tongue though?” Robin wrinkled her nose at her own inquiry. She’d heard girls talk about it before but she couldn’t see the appeal. “It sounds like it would feel gross.”

“Like a wet..snake slithering-” “Ew! No!” You pushed Robin away, careful not to knock over your fort, as you sat up. She snickered and mirrored your position, knees pressed together as you sat in front of each other. “It’s…nice.” You imagined. You had only kissed one person with tongue. David had just barely grazed your tongue with his when he’d grown too eager and immediately jammed his tongue into your mouth. You had to resist grimacing at the memory, hand fiddling unsurely with the flap of the makeshift red tent you sat in. “It feels good,” you tried to reaffirm. Robin tilted her head in curiosity. “So how do we do it?”

An age-old question that apparently nobody had the answers for. “You just kind of do. Don’t worry about it, you’ll know when you’re doing it right.” Creeping closer to when you’d be kissing her you felt the need to sit up straighter and run a hand through your hair, shit did you brush your teeth recently? The thoughts were knocked out of your head once Robin leaned in closer, a hand bracketing your cheek like she had seen in the movies.

Most people would have been nasty or blatantly disliked her, but you never did. You always saw her for who she was. Robin was thankful she had such a good best friend, yet she was unsure as to why the word ‘friend’ hurt her to say. Feeling the high of her emotions for you she leaned in. It wasn’t enough to dismiss her second thoughts, although your lips brushing against hers automatically shut her brain up. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she pressed forward to slide your lips completely together. Unlike seeing the couples on screen or imagining kissing a boy this felt right. 

Robin remembers how her cheeks burned after you had kissed. If only you’d known how deeply her heart beat for you. It was a kiss or two, but it was enough to seal you in her heart. Unfortunately, the perfect bubble of that night would pop and become a memory after you two had grown apart.

Despite popular belief (Steve’s belief), the kiss wasn’t what caused you to become distant. You made no move to come out though. Hell, you didn’t even know yet. It was hard to decipher why you liked boys unless they gave you attention back. You never felt like that with Robin, but how could you? She was Robin Buckley. You were sure you would love her forever but that was what made it scary. That may have been a part of why you two weren’t as close anymore, but not a majority of the reason. She got new friends and so did you. Childhood best friends grow older and become different people, it happens all the time.

But Robin couldn’t let you go, so she held on for as long as she could. You tried your best to delay the inevitable, but you two were worlds revolving in different solar systems, so you watched each other's lives from afar. It was a weary dance, knowing you couldn’t stop the change. Robin felt the same, having seen you grow before her eyes. She loved how you used to go to parties to just hang out with her. She also remembered when that began to change, how you were invited to go play games, happily pulling Robin along. You hadn’t noticed the expressions on your new friends' faces. You didn’t realize that they didn't want Robin there, but she had. She always knew.

It was clear you were trying to not get drunk tonight. Neither you nor Robin tried to get inebriated when you attended sleepaway camp. Being older now meant most kids your age snuck out to play games and drink, but it never appealed to you. Nights like those were reserved for the sleepovers you had together. So it was another night where you stayed glued to Robin’s hip, sipping at a concoction that no doubt held more mixer than actual alcohol. What you didn’t expect was for Vicki to flounce over and beg you to join the circle for seven minutes in heaven. You never got invited to those sorts of games. One of your hands was pulled into Vicki’s, Robin’s eye twitching at the action. 

As always though you looked to Robin first. “Come on Robs, it could be fun!” Robin scrunched her nose up before sighing heavily and sliding her hand into your outstretched one. She wished she hadn’t agreed to do this. A part of her brain screamed to leave as soon as she took your hand, but the other part of her wanted to go along with it. The moment you sat side by side she could feel eyes on her that weren’t yours. She imagined you could feel it too with how you hesitantly released her hand.

Robin’s shoulders raised, trying to shrink into herself more as she leaned back. Who was she kidding being here? She burned holes into the carpet while she zoned out, only partially paying attention to the music playing. It was easy to pretend she didn’t care when she didn’t have to look at you. One by one people had their turns when the bottle was finally passed to you. Instantly Robin’s eyes rose to watch you through the pieces of hair that fell into her face. She could tell you were nervous. The small shake of your hand gave you away. Robin would bet a million dollars that nobody else noticed your patterns like she did. That fact didn’t stop the bottle from landing on your ex David.

From what she knew he had not been a good boyfriend to you or any girl he dated. He didn’t try. Sure, she knew it was seven minutes in heaven and not dating but it couldn’t stop her from wanting to remind you how badly he sucked. A vicious feeling churned in her gut as she saw him help you up. It continued to boil within her once David held open the closet door for you. The slow shutting of it felt like a countdown till she inevitably shot up from her seat.

There was nobody she had to make an excuse for why she was leaving, she simply grabbed her bag and left for your shared cabin. No one batted an eye. Of course, she wouldn’t know how you awkwardly sat in the closet, not wanting to kiss him. You knew if you kissed him it wouldn’t feel like what it did when you kissed Robin. It was one of the first times you could remember being so scared about your sexuality. 

That was also the first time Robin had been so jealous about who you hung out with. She wished she was a better person who didn’t care about what you did. It didn't affect her, so why did it? If she had dwelled on it further perhaps she’d remembered the hasty kisses you exchanged when wine drunk at sleepovers. How pretty you looked when you were splayed out on her bed, pulling her closer as you cuddled to sleep off the drinks. But by the time the sun rose neither of you would remember what happened on nights like those. So reasons continued to pile up for why you pretended you were someone different and reasons for why Robin grew more possessive.

You felt like a fraud. Did you even have a reason to feel like that? No one else in your life questioned you, except Robin was anything but thorough. You could see the look in her eyes. You knew she was questioning things. Unlike her, you didn’t want to know. The world wasn’t built for people like you, so you settled on becoming someone else. However, Robin could always tell when you were switching to a different personality. The first thing she noticed was that you smiled less when you were around new friends and that you did everything in your power to subtly avoid guys approaching you. There were two reasons why that was; A. you were a lesbian or B. you’re dating David.

Robin chewed noisily on her banana runts that were more than likely damaging her teeth. “So you and David..?” She hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. When you had come back from the closet to discover her gone you had been immediately worried, going to your cabin right after. Your voice floating up to Robin’s top bunk did little to calm her nerves when she admitted she wasn’t feeling fine. She never wanted to lie, but if you believed she was sick she wouldn’t say otherwise. It had blown over rather quickly when you saw no need to press further. Robin, however, couldn’t stop thinking about what might’ve happened that night and what was to come from it.

“Ugh, no,” Came your fast retort. “It’s not like that! He’s just…nice.” Was that possibly the best thing you could come up with? To be fair, it wasn’t like he was much more than that. Fling or no fling he would never have a long-lasting impression on your life. When you were seventy and living with Robin and your pets you wouldn’t think back to him. He was fleeting. “So there’s no guy..or girl?” Robin wanted to include the latter to see if you would say anything about it. No one had ever claimed she was sneaky.

You huffed out a breath and shook your head. “Dunno why you’re so invested, didn’t you say you didn’t want to imagine me in a relationship?” Robin flushed. “Well yeah! I don’t want to know when you’re kissing other people!” Neither of you picked up on her mistake. “Okay, then don’t ask!” You teased, but there was more to it. You didn’t want to tell her about your romantic endeavors. There wasn’t a sure explanation as to why, but you knew for sure you didn’t want her speculating who you were with.

However, Robin wanted more answers. She always did. All the Nancy Drew novels she read as a kid always got the best of her. But she also knew there was more to it than that. She saw what you were covering up, it was the same thing she did when you hugged her. Trying to still your beating heart. You were one and the same and yet neither of you would take the leap to admit it for a long time. 

Robin had gotten there first. After another year going by of secret glances and steering clear of the Victoria’s Secret catalog. It was like the models could feel her looking! Aside from that, things had been going smoothly. She was beginning to figure herself out and she loved who she was. Robin wanted you to love who she had become as well. You were the obvious choice to come out to first. Okay, you weren’t as close as you had once been, but you still saw each other often! If anyone were to understand it would be you. You knew Robin the longest out of everyone in her life, besides her parents. Unfortunately, the day she planned to tell you, your family was hosting a soirée that foiled her plans. 

It was supposedly a small get-together with a few tens more people than you expected. The only good thing to come from the crowd was that the home bar was open. You could easily sneak behind the counter, remembering how you and Robin used to. Was she coming tonight? Thinking on it briefly you turned and ducked behind the counter, grabbing a bottle. It wasn't a second later when someone called your name scoldingly. You jumped with a start only to hit your head on the edge of the cabinets. “Oh shit,” Robin gasped. 

“Robin! You ass!” You hissed and grabbed her hand to pull you up off the ground. Robin stifled a laugh, dodging your swipe at her, guiding the bottle in your hand to the counter. It was all in good fun how Robin slashed her other hand out to grab your side. The jabs only pulled more giggles from you before you grabbed Robin’s waist and pulled her entirely behind the counter. “Come on! I was going to- oh hey, Tommy.” You leaned against the counter, acting innocent. “Hey ladies, I heard some noise down here. You alright?” 

From the way his eyes only stayed on you, it was clear that he was only checking on you. Trying not to cringe at his opener you nodded. “We’re fine, Thomas. You can be on your way now.” He frowned, almost the pout of a petulant child. Like most boys his age, he was not used to being shut down. “And if I want a drink?” Tommy smirked and moved to lean against the counter. Your lips sucked in, pulling into a straight line. “There’s drinks in the kitchen. I think you’ll manage.” To cement your point you pointed your finger towards the kitchen before shooing him away.

Robin stifled a laugh at him stomping away. “What? You didn’t like him?” She joked, leaning on the countertop beside you. “God no. Him? I don’t like boys.” The admission slipped out without the logical part of your brain thinking. You hadn’t ever focused on that fleeting thought, purposefully ignoring it. The slip-up didn’t go unnoticed though, your body becoming rigid. “I-I like men,” you coughed out. “You know, not boys. They’re too immature.” A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you attempted to cover up. “You can tell me.” Robin returned.

It was an olive branch, a hope that you would take it and tell her what plagued you. Naturally, that didn’t happen. “There’s nothing to tell.” As if you could read Robin’s mind you continued on. “I’m straight.” The finality in your tone was overlooked by Robin. “I would never judge you. You know that right?” You sighed heavily and glanced at her. “That’s great Robin, but I’m straight. I don’t know what to tell you. I could kiss any girl and feel no different.” It was a challenge you felt Robin would be forced to turn down. Surely she wouldn’t step up to it.

Little did she know that you were projecting and suppressing how you felt, which was the complete opposite. Nevertheless, at seventeen neither of you knew when to quit. “Then do it.” Robin retorted. You scoffed and raised an eyebrow at her. “You seriously want to see me kiss a girl?” Robin jutted her chin out and nodded. “Fine. Kiss me, it’s not like we haven’t already.” The room felt tilted at your dare. You couldn’t be serious, but the glint in your eye told Robin you were.

This couldn’t end well. Anyone could have told you that and the both of you would have still gone through with it. You both knew it was different now. You were grown up with no excuses as to why this would happen and yet here the two of you stood playing into the dangerous game. “Okay.” You appeared staggered and Robin smirked at you, flicking your arm. “Like you said, dingus, we already have.” Nodding shyly you stepped up to Robin, toe to toe, you rolled your eyes with a smile. “Alright Buckley, try to woo me.” In any other atmosphere, she would have cackled, instead she lightly grabbed your waist and leaned in. She had waited too long to beat around this anymore. 

Lucky for her and you, no one walked in. They continued to avoid the room as Robin kissed you softly. The year or so gone by had certainly made a difference in how her lips knew how to move against yours. Your gasp was swallowed by her, your lips moving slowly. How desperately you wanted to bury your hands in her hair and kiss her till her lips swelled. The thought alone is what snapped you out of your fantasy. As you hastily pulled away Robin sighed and ducked her head. She knew it was coming, she knew it was a dumb decision to fall for her straight best friend. “Did I woo you?” She joked.

“Mhm,” you winked. “Enough for me to take a shot.” It was no more than a joke, but Robin could see how the light in your eyes had dimmed. “What are you doing?” Robin whispered. It hurt her to see you like this. No matter how much you tried to hide she would always find out eventually. She knew it wasn't the first or last time you would do something like this. Melancholy pulled at her heart as she studied you. How long would this last, if it ever stopped? “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking a shot.”

Your tone was too cheery for the grim look on your face. “Seriously?” Robin countered. Deep down she knew it was her fault for entertaining the idea. You couldn’t have known she had been in love with you for years. If you had, you would have never joked about kissing her. Logically, she knew it. She just wished it would change and a bit of her wished you would change. “Yes, seriously.” When you looked at her so wearily the anger all but vanished from her. “Do you want a shot or not Robin? It’s fine if you don’t want one, I can drink enough for the both of us.” Robin shook her head, looking away while chewing on her bottom lip. 

In an instant, the conversation was over, whatever was happening between you shifted. She walked behind you, out from the home bar, and walked to the three steps to take her back to the main house. “Tell your parents I say hi.” With that, she walked up the steps a little too harshly and left you alone to stare down at the alcohol.

That was one of the last conversations you held before finally, and silently, parting ways. If there was a tragedy hall of fame you swore that moment was etched in it forever. No one knew why you and Robin sat farther apart in classes. Those who knew least of all were your parents. They still spoke to each other frequently, Robin’s distance not taking too much of a toll on their friendships. As expected they spoke about the split, never able to understand what happened. They gathered no information from the pair of you. Neither you nor Robin would speak a negative word about the other.

Now, imagine Steve’s surprise when Robin first told him how you were the girl she was in love with. He was still that shocked about it after knowing for months. It wasn’t hard to see why though. Steve remembered you as the smart popular girl who wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand to someone in need. Sweet, but not a pushover. Even now he still finds it hard to believe, harder to believe that the two of you kissed. He wasn’t one to judge, no, but you had a boyfriend to his knowledge and Steve was (is) a little…surprised…was all. It’s not every day that your friend is practically in the plot of a movie.

“Okay okay, but you guys kissed, right? Isn’t that enough of a sign that she likes you?” Steve’s pointer finger moved the tab of his beer can around and around across the metal opening. “No it’s not dingus- stop that.” Robin swatted Steve’s hand to stop him from making the terrible screeching noise. “Even if she did, which she didn’t, she wouldn’t like me now. We haven’t held a conversation since what? Graduation?”

“Which was last week.” Steve snorted at Robin’s drama. It wasn’t a wonder that she was a theatre kid. “Still!” She protested and flopped back on the pool chair. Her eyes studied the way the moonlight rippled on the pool’s water reflecting on a time that you would have tugged her along to stare at the night sky. Steve followed her view and sighed if he had to hear one more goddamn time about how you liked the moon. He had no doubt you were a sweet person but one thing Robin didn’t know how to do was shut up, and that factored into how much she spoke about you.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek to think of something. “Look. It’s the week after graduation, there are tons of parties happening right now. How about we go out, find you a nice girl, and get your mind off her.” Before graduation, Robin had truly thought she was over you. Sure, you still sent her a dazzling smile in the halls and she tripped into a trash can once because she swore she saw you check her out, but it was nothing. You didn’t want her and by god, she would force herself to not want you.

That was until she saw you cross the stage at graduation, waving enthusiastically at your friends. Until you cheered the loudest for her when they called her name. It didn’t make sense to others, why one of the star cheerleaders was shrieking happily for the nerdy, band kid, but it didn’t seem to phase you. Nothing did. So it made it hard for Robin to wonder why you still had a boyfriend. 

Were you truly not gay? Had her hopes been misplaced? She hadn’t expected you to shout it from the rooftops, but she’d hoped that you would have told her before you two drifted. Or it was possible you liked both guys and girls? However, the thought didn’t seem to make sense with how you talked about boys. Even when you were just beginning to date boys you had mentioned offhandedly that girls were always better than boys. 

“Men aren’t supposed to be as pretty as girls so it's okay…I wish they wouldn’t be so gross though.” In her younger mind, it made sense, though years later it didn’t seem to be foolproof. Even when guys were begging you for a date you brushed them off. Then came the unavoidable boyfriend that would stick for a month or two until you broke up and you were single for an extended period again.

Mulling over it Robin groaned and lolled her head to the side. She was tired of being hung up on what-ifs. “Fine. But the moment I’m bored we leave.” Steve clapped his hands, jostling the beer can that now sat in his lap. “There we go, that’s what I’m talking about!” He shot up to high-five Robin only to spill his beer onto his lap. “Ah, shit!” Robin smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. “Might want a change of jeans, Cupid.” “Oh fuck off.”

For a second it fell quiet except for Steve’s mumbled curses as he rubbed at his pants. The ever-growing stain only spread against his wiping. “Jesus, fine, but tomorrow you have to promise you’ll come with me.” Blue eyes rolled to the side and Robin reluctantly nodded. “Promise. Now I’m headed to your guest bedroom if you don’t mind. Don’t go to sleep covered in beer!” She hopped up with a grin and dashed inside. “It’d help if I had a towel! Hello! Hello? …Robin?”

Ignoring him, Robin took two steps at a time up the stairs excited to be tucked in bed. No matter how many times she jokingly complained about the bed in the guest room she always slept better at Steve’s house. He didn’t mind though, the company was nice to fill his empty house. Besides, when Robin remembered to wash the guest sheets Steve could shove his own sheets in her laundry load.

She slammed the door shut and flopped on the bed to stare at the stagnant ceiling fan. One night. One party and it would be fine. You would be far away from her mind. Squeezing her eyes closed, Robin could almost convince herself of it. She rolled over, tucking her hand under her chin not bothering to get into the pajamas she’d left here a million times before.

If she knew what the next night held for her, her restless sleep would have turned into no sleep. At her core Robin was an overthinker.

The next morning was usual and unsuspecting. Burnt eggs made by Steve who threw them out and settled on making coffee. Thankfully this Saturday was free of work shifts, unfortunately, that also meant Steve finding out where the nearest party was happening tonight. Subsequently, it had Steve stressing over what they would wear. Robin swore he cared more about their outfits than she did and she wouldn’t be wrong in the assumption. When it came to putting Robin out there Steve would put blood, sweat, and tears into it.

“It’s a party Steve, not tea with the queen.” Robin spun in a chair at her desk. Shortly after breakfast Steve had shoved her into his BMW and sped to her house. She had sworn up and down that it wasn’t a big deal, but to Steve it was. When he first began being so nice to her she thought it was because she helped him with flirting, then because she saved people from Russians, and then got him a job on top of all of it. To Robin’s pleasant surprise and delight it was because Steve actually enjoyed her company. 

Due to his experience, and care for Robin, Steve was determined to make this go well. He knew how nerve-wracking it could be to try and flirt with girls. Trust him, he knew, but he also knew there was another level he wouldn’t understand. All he could do was base things on his experiences and if this was going to go according to plan he was going to make sure Robin looked good.   

Steve planted his hands on his hips and twisted towards Robin. “Can you at least try to care? This is for you.” Robin’s lips pursed, moving from side to side before she sighed heavily. She raised a limp hand to point in the direction of a shirt. “Those with my black jeans.” Steve turned and nodded at the garment, pulling it off the hanger and tossing it onto the bed. “Good choice,” he commented, going to rummage for her jeans. “Yeah, well, it was her choice.” Neither of them needed to clarify to know she was talking about you. Steve’s lips pulled into a frown. “Tonight will be good.” He tried to weakly assert. She hoped it would be. 

Comparatively to Robin’s morning, yours was soon to be boring. There was no excitement for the millionth party you would be attending and definitely no surprise breakfast to wake up to. If you had known that was even an option your brain would have whisked you away in daydreams to what life could be like. In reality, you woke up far before the sun did, a routine you had formed over the last year. The few hours between you waking up and the sun rising was your safe haven. It was a comfortable silence that permitted you to slow down life and take in your surroundings.

Today you settled for staring at your boyfriend in front of you, studying his facial features. He was by no means ‘ugly’. By all standards he was conventionally attractive, however, you couldn’t bring yourself to yearn for him. The movies had infiltrated your head making you think love should be a whirlwind that swept you off your feet. Weren’t you supposed to burn for him, or at least crave to be in his presence? You couldn’t even bring yourself to come, having to fake your orgasm for him last night like always. You knew his ego would take a huge hit if you admitted this so you stayed silent.

It wasn’t him per se. It also wasn’t you though. You could come but not when you were with a man. It was always too much, not enough, too man-ish. If that made sense, which it didn’t. None of it did. What made it worse was the way your mind constantly wondered. Why did your brain keep drifting back to comparing every fling to Robin? She was gone. You wouldn't be hung up on losing a friend. She was a good example of a strong relationship, platonic sure, but it was something you subconsciously based your romantic relationships on. No one met the expectations though.

You never felt truly thrilled to be with who you were dating. Up until you had to exchange affection you were into it. Don’t get it wrong, you did feel something for who you dated but you weren’t sure what it was. It scared you too much to think about your boyfriend deeply, or any other man you had been with. How you wished he’d somehow feel the shift in the universe that you were now awake and wake up to smile at you like Robin used to.

Perhaps he’d stay up and talk about nothing for hours. None of it had to make sense you wanted it for the connection. Why could he not read your mind or simply go out of his way to do something meaningful for you without you having to ask? You were so tired of not having that connection with men. It became easier for you to find a woman and become close friends instantly! Men made it so hard.

And as if all the planets fell into alignment the breath was punched from your lungs. Fuck. Why now? Why did you suddenly figure it out now? In the end, it made sense, how had you been so blind? Staring at the ceiling you couldn't picture anything else in your head except the women you have loved in your life. Not friends or family, but loved loved. And every scene came back to Robin. You were choking. Maybe not literally, but there was no escape from the realization. Had you always known and simply forced yourself to hide it?

Unable to stop the rushing questions all you could focus on was how you ended up here. You never listened, not even to your own heart. Was this all life would be if you continued down this path? Men who pulled it together enough to have an average life, but never being able to fully love them. Realization after another, you recognized that you didn’t want to be next to a man when you walked down the aisle. You couldn’t. It felt like handing your life over. Ending something that had barely begun.

Looking back at Robert, there was no stopping the jolt of your body. It felt subconscious like it was telling you to run and never look back. From the dreadful feeling weighing you down, you supposed the earth had stopped turning and you could run straight off the edge of it. You wiggled back until you were close enough out from under the covers and stumbled out of bed. You couldn't look at him anymore, prying your eyes away to look at anything else. They scanned his familiar room for what could be the millionth time and you only felt sadness. Would your future home be decorated like this? Mediocre decorations with no touch of what felt like home. Forever compromising on how you wanted to feel.

It had barely registered in your mind that you had left his room, near running down the stairs and out of his house like a hookup who stayed over too late. You didn't know where to go. In another life, you would have legged it to Robin’s house but in this life, your feet carried you towards your home. The home where you had sleepovers in buried hopes that you’d uncover each other's secrets and sleep with legs and arms intertwined, pretending it was a hug. God, it was innocent and you craved to go back. You coveted your younger self for being filled with such innocent love for others. At the same time, you hated how buried your love became, concealed by fear. 

Years of your life had passed by without you realizing who you truly were. You silently begged the universe to make it better, whatever that meant. Bare feet hitting the pavement echoed against the looming houses of the neighborhood. What would someone think if they saw you running like hell was on your heels? Would it compare to the shock of what they would hear if they could see into your brain?

It seemed like seconds of running when you made it to your house, but judging by the brightening sky and the burning of your feet it had been much longer. You wanted to go back to the way you had been. It wasn’t shame, or not entirely. It was an odd limbo of wanting so desperately for itself to work out that you’d beg to go back to denying it. What good would that do though? All you could do was take a hot shower and relax before the party. You were still going with Robert, knowing you’d get an earful later for leaving in the middle of the night, but you were incapable of caring at this point.

His loss. Seriously, his loss. Without you dating him you’d feel freer and he would plead for another chance to be a good boyfriend this time. You wanted to piece yourself back together by taking back the power he had unknowingly stolen from you. He was good sometimes, but you didn't deserve ‘sometimes’. Unexpected anger filled you as you closed your front door. Was it better or worse that you had discovered you were a lesbian when dating him instead of a good guy? “Oh honey!” your mother started, catching a glimpse of your expression from the kitchen table. “Did you and Robert fight again?” The familiarity of her thinking you and Robert fought again had your heart plummeting. There was thinly veiled ‘Is Robert mad at you again?’ under her question.

You weakly shook your head. “No ma’am, I'm okay…just tired.” A comforting smile appeared on your mother’s face as she beckoned you over. “Come here, sweetheart.” Compliantly, you walked closer to her and leaned down to feel her hand on your cheek. Something was bothering you, she could see that much. “I’m so proud of you.” Immediately you wanted to spill everything. You wanted her to hold you like you were a little girl again and have her tell you that everything would be okay. Suddenly you became aware that you were mourning the future you were guaranteed from a kid. It was a piece of yourself that you lost, but you were also gaining another piece of yourself. Bittersweet. 

You wanted her to love this new part of yourself as much as she loved every other piece of you. She pressed her lips to the crown of her head like she could read your mind. She was trying her best to solve your troubles with how she knew too. “I love you, my sweet baby girl.” Tears stung at the backs of your closing eyes. “I love you,” you wanted to whisper back, instead staying quiet out of fear of what you might admit. She nodded in time with you with a sweet laugh. “Now go clean up and knock them dead.” Your mother looked up from where she sat and winked at you as you went round the corner. “Those boys won’t know what hit them!” 

But they were never who you wanted. How could you tell someone that when they’ve known you as a different person your whole life? You knew your mom wouldn't hesitate to die for you, that’s what you chose to hang onto as you headed for the shower you hoped would wash away your anxiety. She still loved you. Unbeknownst to you, she would never jeopardize that love. You were her child forever.

The shower had washed away some of your stress of the day, renewing you to a point that you could go out. That’s how you found yourself working your pants over your hips, doing little hops to slide the denim on. After the small workout, you huffed and threw things out of your closet to get a shirt. By the time a tornado looked like it had passed through your room, you resorted to digging through your basket of clean clothes, grabbing a cropped jersey Robert had given you. A thought nagged the back of your brain saying not to wear it because it was his, but you threw it on anyway. It was cute and would fit the vibe of the party.

It was a simple outfit but there was no way you were trying to woo anybody tonight. Hopefully, it would ward people off from talking to you. You didn't even want to woo Robert. A thought for a later date. Checking your alarm clock you realized it was an hour till the party with no sign of Robert. Your gut yelled at you to call him. Fuck you wished you didn’t have to. What if you walked? In that case, he could show up and wonder why you ignored him, or he could try to pick you up after you had already left the house. It left too many questions without answers.

Regrettably, calling him was the best option for transportation. You were not in a family who could spare your unlicensed person driving their car around. Stepping out of your bedroom you were met with silence. The house was empty aside from you padding to the landline in the kitchen. A note was left on the refrigerator reminding you of your parents' date night. Nerves nipped at you as you swiped your sweaty palms down your thighs and forced yourself to dial his number.

One, two, three, four rings later, “Hello?” Your teeth sink into the tip of your thumbnail. Yup, he sounded mad. “Hey, Rob!” You tried to chirp, voice unnaturally high. “Oh, are you talking to me now?” “What? I thought we were going to the party tonight…aren’t you coming to get me?” Robert being mad at you was a more than common occurrence. This was one of the more uncommon times when you had done something. “I thought you were mad at me.” he deadpanned, “No note. No warning. You were gone. What was I supposed to think? It’s embarrassing! Do you know how embarrassing that is?” He pressed on.

You fought off a sigh in response, trying to muster up a kinder retort. “I’m sorry Rob, seriously. I’ll make it up to you at the party. …I promise.” he sighed heavily, voice becoming soft again. “I don't think I can drive somebody who acts like that. Will I see you there?” Great. Great, great, great. Robert clicked his tongue sympathetically, acting as if it hurt him as much as he expected it to hurt you.

You didn’t dare ask if he was driving you again. “Yeah. See you then, I guess.” Dejection was far from your tone yet Robert failed to take a hint. “I’m sorry.” His apology fell flat. You couldn't bring yourself to be upset at his roundabout breakup. The dial tone answered him as you slammed the phone back on the receiver. 

So much for having a ride. 

Figuring out a last-minute ride should not have been as difficult as it was. Apparently, when you drop off the face of the earth for a few days after graduation everyone thinks you’ve left them to die. Thankfully Tina had her convertible detailed on Wednesday and was more than happy to show it off. A little sucking up and a vague explanation later you had a brand new ride who was trying to get you to shove it in Robert’s face that you didn’t need him. And what better way to do that than driving you to the party?

Initially, you didn’t intend to get this far into things. Maybe a small catch-up chat and a shot to appease her, but it seemed Tina’s personal mission was to get you hammered. It was all she talked about on the drive over. The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped out of Tina's convertible, the engine purring below you. Music and laughter were already spilling out from the open windows. Tina looped her arm through yours, “Come on, let's show that loser Robert what he's missing!”

You smiled back at her, allowing yourself to be swept up by her. “Lead the way,” you replied, playing along. The two of you pushed through the people congregating on the front lawn. Tina's grip on your arm tightened as she guided you through the chaos, her eyes alight with a determined gleam. “There’s the keg over there!” Tina exclaimed and pointed towards the driveway. 

“That sounds amazing, Tina,” you spoke, raising your voice above the chaos. “Just give me a moment? I'm going to...powder my nose.” You punctuated your statement with a conspiratorial wink, knowing full well that Tina assumed you had somebody to go meet up with. Tina giggled and winked back, “Hurry up then! Don’t keep him waiting!” She waved and happily drifted towards some girls she recognized by the keg, leaving you to navigate your way.

Dodging a stumbling partygoer who barreled past you and out the front door, you twisted around and made your way backward into the living room. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and drinks, a stereo somewhere playing loud music reverberating through the floorboards as bodies danced where a coffee table once stood. A part of you couldn't help but scan the crowd, a lingering instinct to locate Robert. You rolled your jaw, determined to stomp out that fleeting desire.

Your gaze drifted towards the kitchen, and you figured a quick detour for refreshments was in order. Unaware of prying eyes, you hugged the wall, slipping into the relative sanctuary of the kitchen. Finally, a moment to catch your breath and collect your thoughts amidst the chaotic revelry.  A familiar face was standing in the kitchen, but they were no one there that you knew well enough. Nowhere near the level of recognition you held for the person who was watching you back.

Robin’s eyes stayed trained on you, having seen you the moment you had walked through the front door. Technically since someone pushed past you to get outside. She was sitting on a pushed-back couch with Steve. Normally he would find somebody to flirt with, yet here he sat debating who would be fit for Robin. His whispers fell on deaf ears, rubbing his chin with one hand. “I swear she’s not straight. Did you know she used to…” Robin’s harsh whisper drowned out the rest of his sentence, “Steve.” His brown eyes flicked to her. “Shit was that bad to say?” 

“Steve.” Steve finally took the suggestion and looked up to see you. His eyes widened while he watched you open a bottle and pour some liquid into the cup. Robin’s surprise came at the fact that you weren’t hanging over Robert. That wasn’t completely the jealousy talking. If you showed up at a party you tended to stay by his side the whole time. Whether it was to keep other men away from you or because you liked Robert that much, it also kept Robin at bay from thinking of trying to talk to you. Here you were now, looking unfocused, almost worried before chugging the alcohol.

“You should talk to her.” Steve started. He saw the look in Robin’s eye knowing there was no way around it. “What!? No! Steve, that goes against everything we’re doing tonight!” He knew that more than anyone else, of course, he did. There was no reason for Robin to go back on her word, other than the fact that she was obviously in love with you.

“Look, one conversation. Then you’ll know for sure that you can move on.” Steve reached over, shaking Robin’s shoulder softly to encourage her towards you. “Never know if you don’t try.” Swallowing her fear, Robin admonished Steve. “Remind me to never listen to you ever again dingus. No more plan-making for you.” “And yet you’re walking towards her.” Robin rolled her eyes, walking backward to you.

Once Robin deemed she was almost close enough she turned around to see your spot in the kitchen empty. Her baby blues scanned the house, spotting you heading to the backyard. After seeing you just out of reach she knew she had to speak to you for better or for worse. Robin sped up, pushing through to get to the back door. She could see your rapidly disappearing frame, focusing on how you moved. The wood creaked on the hinges, shutting in front of her face. Being so close to you she suddenly couldn’t bring herself to open the door.

She was being dumb, she knew it. It was one conversation. What harm could it do? Pacing in front of the door Robin barely had enough time to jump out of the way when it swung open. “Shit- sorry!” She called out, stumbling backward out the door. If anything it was the stranger's fault for slamming the door open, that’s what you thought at least. “Robin?”

Time instantly slowed as your quiet voice called her name. She slowly turned towards you, her movements making it seem like she was in doubt if this were truly happening. An awkward smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she caught sight of you sitting on the edge of the porch. The porch light basked you in its soft glow, contrasting the bright moonlight that hit the yard. “Hey..didn't uh see you there,” she offered hesitantly. Robin knew you would be out here, but actually speaking to you made it seem way more real. 

“Oh, I thought you were following me.” Robin’s face fell at the blunt statement, her composed facade cracking. “Huh!?” She squawked, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. Her eyes snapped to your face to search it, honing in on the cigarette you pressed to your lips. Not responding right away, a charged silence blanketed you. The only reprieve was the clicking of your lighter that pierced the air, flame roaring to life to light the smoke.

If this was to be the last time she spent in your company, Robin didn't want it to end like that. With a determined set to her jaw, she moved to plop down onto the edge of the porch beside you, swinging her legs over the side inelegantly. You wordlessly tilted your head back, exhaling your smoke away from her, a small gesture that did not go unnoticed. “I didn't know you smoked,” Robin ventured, her gaze transfixed by the way your lips wrapped around the cigarette, pursing and parting with each inhale and exhale.

“Oh yeah, new habit I guess,” you replied nonchalantly, as if the habit were no more remarkable than a new hairstyle. Robin nodded, her eyes trailing over you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Are you-” she began, only to be cut off as you simultaneously attempted to speak. “Do you think-” Your voices overlapped, the words tangling together in a mess. Robin felt her cheeks warm.

“You can go first,” you mumbled, ducking your head in an effort to hide the amused smile that threatened to spread across your features. “Um…” Robin nodded, turning her gaze forward once more as she gathered her thoughts. “What are you doing here without...?” Her voice trailed off as she realized, with discomfort, that she had completely forgotten the name of your boyfriend. She had heard it mentioned once, she was certain, but the name eluded her. It started with an R, didn't it? “Robert,” you filled the gap for her. “Yeah, him!”

You winced visibly at the mention of his name. Lifting a hand to scratch the back of your neck, the cigarette dangling precariously from your taught lips, you hesitated for a moment. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to,” Robin added quickly, noticing you were weighing your words. “No, it's fine,” you assured her, waving off her concern. “We're on a break, I guess? He's pissed at something I did this morning.” 

Robin sat up straighter, her curiosity piqued by your cryptic confession. “Oh shit. What'd you do?” Plucking the cigarette from your lips, you took a deep breath of clean air. “I sort of ditched him before he woke up. Ran out of his house... the whole shebang.” As the words left your mouth, you couldn't help but realize how callous they sounded. Robin, however, seemed unfazed by the revelation, barking out a laugh that seemed to echo in the quiet night. 

“What!? Why?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with disbelief and amusement. “So many questions,” you teased, unable to resist the urge to deflect, if only momentarily. Robin shook her head, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. It was a known fact that she often pressed for more information. You gave a resigned shrug, not knowing why you found yourself spilling your guts to your old friend who you had barely shared a conversation with in over a year. There was something about her presence, something undeniably safe, that compelled you to open up in a way you hadn't with anyone else.

“Guess I realized something.” Robin knew better than to interrupt now, well versed with the pause you gave before fully voicing the thoughts on your mind. “I don't think he's the one," you admitted at last. Something about the need for clarity had you stubbing your cigarette out. Robin sucked in a sharp breath, her expression one of sympathy. “If it helps, I don't think anyone meets 'the one' in high school,” she spoke matter-of-factly as if stating an indisputable truth. “Plus, that's a dumb reason for him to break up with you.”

“Maybe,” you muttered in response, your voice laced with a heaviness that suggested there was more to the story. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry,” Robin continued, her words laden with sincerity. “You deserve better than that.” She knew you did. You deserved better than all the shitty boyfriends you had put up with. Turning to face her fully, you met her gaze with a look of self-doubt. “Don't know if I do. I kind of fucked up, big time.”

The guilt of having dated and potentially hurt a string of boys while unaware that you were unable to love them formed a lump in your throat. You had only just come to terms with the fact that you might have been a lesbian earlier that morning, but hadn't there been signs all along? Little hints you had chosen to ignore in favor of conforming to societal expectations? You truly did empathize with their feelings, holding the weight of your actions on your shoulders.

“Good people fuck up sometimes,” Robin stated effortlessly. The resolution she offered was so simple. “We're still young, we're going to make mistakes,” she continued. And you would. None of it had been malicious. Of course, Robin would be the one able to slow down your racing mind. You couldn't help but marvel at the depth of her understanding and how she cut through the tangled web of your thoughts with such ease.

“When did you become so wise?” You quipped. “I always have been,” Robin shot back with a sly smile. “You were just too busy being charmed by me to realize.” For a heartbeat, Robin froze, uncertain whether her joke had landed or if she had overstepped a boundary. Then your laughter met her ears, shattering her worry. “Hm. makes sense,” you conceded.

Robin sighed out in relief, your head tilting to rest on her shoulder. She slowly met your head with her own, leaning on top of yours. In the dim lighting, you looked at her feet swinging side by side with yours. Studying the familiar scribbles on her shoes made you feel so comforted. This was just Robin, sweet Robin who held your hands when you were scared to make leaps of faith. A leap of faith. That’s all it was.

“I guess I’m interested in other people.” Robin’s eyebrows furrowed curiously. Taking the moment you confessed before doubt could creep up your spine. “I don't think men are the ones for me.” All the oxygen exited Robin's lungs, however, she clamped her mouth shut, trying to remain cool. “I don’t think they are for me either.” She responded faintly. 

“Right? I get it, I do, I mean not really but..” you rambled on, taking a note from Robin’s book. “I feel bad because I dated so many guys. I can’t imagine how they felt when I couldn't give them what they needed.” Robin scoffed in return.  “Please, they sucked. They were practically sewer monsters! They’ll get over it,” Robin stated resolutely. You didn’t need to be hung up on boys like that. You laughed at her claim. “Yeah, they're gross.” You agreed. 

Talking to her again you realized how easy it was and how much you missed this. “I’m so tired of having to like what they like, do what they do, live in their world!” You huffed and glared up at the sky for an answer to your troubles. “I'm proud of you.” Robin blurted out to your surprise. “You’re proud of me?” 

Robin didn’t say many things that shocked you into a stupor anymore, but that was certainly one of them. “Yeah. You’ve kind of become super confident.” “Not at all. I’m still scared,” you exhaled regretfully at your admission. “You can be scared and still be self-assured. You’re like..on the right path, you know?” You blinked in amazement at her awareness. “Robin you are fucking amazing.” At your compliment, it was now her turn to be taken aback. “Oh- thank you.” She coughed with wide eyes. 

The connection both of you tried to shove down for so long sparked the moment your eyes locked. In that instant, the world faded away, neither of you caring that anyone could peer through the backdoor. As you gazed into her eyes, it felt as if her soul was laid bare in front of you. “Can I?” you asked, voice filled with longing. “Please,” she responded. With her confirmation, both of you moved forward eagerly, lips colliding. However, a second later a pang of pain quickly interrupted the blissful encounter, causing you both to recoil.

“Ow!” Robin hissed, pressing her hand to her mouth, her inner lips inadvertently having met her teeth. “Oh shit!” you exclaimed, scrambling onto your knees to be closer to her. Gently, you removed her hand, anxiously inspecting her. “I am so sorry. Are you bleeding?”

Your eyes snapped to Robin’s when she failed to respond. Her hand slid across your cheek much like it had the first time years ago. Hiccuped giggles fell from her lips when she edged closer to you. Taking the hint, you followed suit to gently press your lips together. This is what you were looking for. You understood why you had looked for her in other people for so long. You yearned for her.

Robin’s fingers trailed along your skin leaving tingles in their wake. Her hands slowly slid down, one coming to rest on the small of your back with the other holding onto your waist. She was desperate to eliminate any distance between your bodies, pulling you towards her like you were her lifeline. When the need for oxygen became too great to ignore, Robin reluctantly parted from your lips. A soft “Woah” escaped her in a breathless whisper. 

“Uh huh, woah,” you mumbled in agreement, blinking as you emerged from your trance. As your senses slowly returned, you turned to face each other, eyes meeting in a shared look of awe. The tension that had been building between you both for so long had finally been released, and the intensity of it left you both giddy with exhilaration. Unable to contain yourselves any longer, you burst into unrestrained laughter, echoing the pure joy you felt in that moment.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed happily. Without a plan or a second thought, you jumped up and grabbed Robin's hand, pulling her up with you. “Let's go,” you said, the words tumbling out in your excitement. Robin's eyes widened at your sudden burst of energy. “What?” she asked. Despite her question she gratefully let you help her up and tug her towards the stairs. “Let's ditch!” you clarified. Robin took one look at the gleam in your eyes and she nodded rapidly, a matching grin spreading across her face as she raced down the stairs with you.

Her grip on your hand tethered you to her as she rounded the corner of the house at a breakneck pace. You stumbled after her, laughing breathlessly, the two of you surely a sight to behold. Anyone would take a look at the two of you and assume you were drunk.

As you burst into the front yard, Steve caught sight of you while he stood on the lawn. His expression grew into one of bemusement as he watched the two of you race past. He beamed at you both, your laughter infectious as you ran down the neighborhood street with no destination in mind. You were in love and it was pure.

Steve placed his hands on his hips, chest bursting with pride. As he watched you disappear he turned back to the shorter figure in front of him. His once soft eyes now held a glint and a not-so-innocent smile. “You’re Robert? Right?” 

taglist: @andvys

[strangersteddierthings]

Shovel Talk(s) Part 2

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Nobody in the history of the world has ever referred to Eddie as jubilant but that was certainly the best word for him currently. Eddie has survived the apocalypse (even if barely), been proven innocent for the murders (the Upside Down exploding into Hawkins helped), and he has a boyfriend. It makes Eddie feel like he's floating.

Steve drops him off, walks him up to the porch, and gives him the sweetest kiss goodbye. Eddie doesn't go inside right away because he wants to watch Steve as he leaves and maybe blow him an exaggerated kiss as he drives away.

"Glad that boy finally did something about how pathetic you were being," Wayne says in lieu of a greeting when Eddie finally slips in the front door and into the living room, plopping himself on the other end of the sofa, dragging one of the throw pillows that came with the couch into his lap to clutch onto. Ground him, because he's still floating.

"I was not being pathetic!" Eddie is scandalized.

Wayne lets out a wistful sigh and says, in a poor imitation of Eddie's voice, "when will Steve end my suffering and notice me."

Eddie lunges across the couch with the pillow in hand, whacking Wayne with every word he speaks, while also trying to dodge Wayne trying to grab the pillow from him, "I do not sound like that!"

Wayne tricks him into thinking the pillow is his only goal and before he realizes what's happening, Wayne has him in a headlock, dragging both of them off the couch as he stands, giving Eddie the gentlest noogie of his life. "I think I know how you sound, hearin' you bellyache for the last 13 years. I've had to hear your relentless sighing and bemoaning about Steve for at least six of 'em."

Eddie beats him with the pillow more until Wayne releases the headlock and then they wrestle until his uncle fakes hurt, so Eddie backs down quickly, and Wayne steals the pillow and beats him back onto the couch until Eddie yields.

"That was dirty fighting, old man," Eddie says when he finally stops laughing enough to catch his breath.

"What was it you used to tell me, when I said you were fightin' dirty?" Wayne asks, "Scrappy."

"Oh, is that what you think you are?" Eddie swings at Wayne's knee half-heartedly. Wayne flings himself across the room and into the recliner there like Eddie shoved him. "Oh, you big baby."

"You're awfully callus about bullying your old man," Wayne chuckles and settles into the recliner, popping the leg rest out. "Now, tell me about your boy. He was a gentleman to you?"

Eddie pouts, "Unfortunately, yes. One chaste kiss and then he was off."

"Smart boy."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "What's the supposed to mean?"

"Means I scare him."

"What."

"That a question or a statement, son?" Wayne looks awfully smug over in his chair.

"What do you mean you scare him?"

"Just gave him the good ole father shovel talk. Y'know? Hurt my boy and I'll make you disappear," Wayne says.

"You terrible old man!" Eddie throws his pillow at him but Wayne bats it out of the air. "I'm going to die a virgin and it'll be your fault!"

Wayne just shrugs. "Fine by me."

"You are the worst."

-

Eddie can't make his leg stop jiggling. He feels sorry for Nancy, who is sharing the bench seat with him because he's sure that it's shaking the whole bench. He's filled with energy and doesn't know what to do with it.

Robin sits across from them, finishing up the last of her milkshake as they wait for the to go order they're going to drop off for Steve, who is stuck at Family Video for another five hours. He was supposed to be here, too, but Keith called him asking him to cover and he'd said yes. Eddie wishes he hadn't. This was Lunch Date Day.

"Are you still upset Steve took an extra shift?" Nancy asks. "Even though you know he's just going to spend the extra money on you?"

Eddie's pouting, voice whiny as he says, "I'd rather he be heeeerrrrrrrre."

"It's disgusting how in love you are," Robin says, shoving the now completely empty milkshake glass away.

Eddie's leg stops shaking because he full on freezes. "Uh."

"Are you afraid of saying the L-word? You are not subtle in showing it," Nancy says, ever the traitor, "but luckily Steve's just as smitten."

"You don't know that," Eddie says, arguing for the sake of arguing. He doesn't believe he likes Steve more than Steve likes him. He's pretty sure they're on an even playing field.

"Yeah, I do. I threatened to shoot him if he hurt you and he didn't even flinch. He'd have taken the bullet for you."

"You did what!?" Robin yelps. She's looking at Nancy like she's grown a second head.

"I didn't even bring a gun with me! Besides, Steve knows I didn't mean it," Nancy says with a wave of her hand, "it was just an obligation thing. You have to threaten your best friend's significant other. The whole conversation was like, 30 seconds tops."

"I'm your best friend!?" Eddie gasps, faking surprise. They have become good friends. She'd taken it upon herself to make sure he did get to graduate with Robin and herself, and they did form a sort of friendship from that. Also, from being the collective third wheel to Steve&Robin, which is enough to make people come together. Neither of them truly thinks of the other as their best friend, but it's fun to joke about their own Capitol with a P Platonic Friendship around Steve and Robin, as they become rather bitchy and defensive about their own friendship.

It's hilarious every time.

"Well, it's you or Argyle, and I don't think Jonathan wants to share his best friend, so...."

"Cold, Wheeler. Cold."

Nancy rolls her eyes and looks over to Robin. "Are you telling me you haven't given Eddie the shovel talk?"

Robin frowns as she thinks before her eyes widen in shock and she gasps, "I think I accidentally gave Steve a shovel talk instead."

Eddie bursts out laughing, "Robin, how the fuck did you end up accidentally giving a shovel talk to your own best friend?"

"I just told him to, like, be careful with you."

"Careful with me?" Eddie asks, a little incredulously. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Robin is going on the defensive, now. Eddie can see that in the way she squares her shoulders before saying, "it was said after your first date! Steve's had a lot of those, and you hadn't. I just- I dunno, wanted him to see the importance of that."

"So, what, you told him you'd shoot him if he hurt me, like Wheeler here?"

"No! I never said I'd hurt him for hurting you. I just said that he should be careful with you because, as your first boyfriend, if, and I did mean if, you don't work out, it's like... he's setting the precedent for how boyfriends should treat you. What you'll put with with, y'know?"

"That's sweet-" Nancy starts but Eddie's speaking over her just a quickly.

"Robin, that's stupid. I'm a fucking adult. If I'm not being treated how I want to be treated, I'll tell Steve," Eddie huffs. "You can trust that I say what I mean."

"Can I?" Robin shoots back. "Just like when you promised to get the fuck outta dodge and instead went on a suicide mission that ended very, very badly for you?"

"That was different, Buckley," Eddie hisses at her, sitting up straight to lean more across the table, trying to get in her face, "there was a lot of shit happening, and no way out that I saw. It's called trauma!"

It seems that a defensive Robin goes straight for the jugular because she hisses back, "No, actually, I think it's called survivors guilt and suicidal ideation. You know what, I should be giving you a shovel talk! 'Cause I don't fully trust you to not hurt Steve, either by lying or running once things get rough. You don't-"

"OKAY!" Nancy shouts, startling both of them into silence with one word. "We are in an, admittedly very empty, diner but still a very public diner, so let's not. Robin, you're not Steve's mom, it's not on you to look out for who is going to hurt him or-"

"You do not get to speak to me about hurting him," Robin points an accusing finger at Nancy. For all the anger she seemed to have for Eddie just now, he can see that it's almost doubled for Nancy. "I wasn't Steve's friend when you hurt him, but don't think I don't know every detail."

He knows this story, too. Had gotten it out of Steve one night, weeks ago now, when they'd been passing a joint back and forth on Eddie's bed. Before Eddie can pipe up, not that he knows what he'd say anyway, the waitress returns with the to go box and the check.

"It's my turn to pay," Nancy says, snatching the check before it touches the table, following hot on the waitress's heels to the register.

"Ugh," Robin flings herself against the back of the bench, both hands coming up to hide her face. From beneath her hiding place, she says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. What I said was unfair, and uncalled for."

"We're cool, Robin," Eddie says, "I forget how much of a buffer for our anxieties Steve is until we all hang out without him. He's able to defuse an argument before it happens."

"Oh, don't word it like that," Robin drops her hands and slides out of the booth, scooping up the to go box in the process," it makes Steve sound like the emotionally mature one."

They all climb into Nancy's car and apologies are said but Eddie feels like the next time Steve can't make it, they'll all bail on the weekly lunch. They're just a bunch of traumatized young adults and Steve is the heart of them, the person that bonds them outside the shit they went through. And maybe they should figure out a better way to deal with this than just pretending it didn't happen but- well, the world just kept moving on and they had to either move with it or get left behind.

-

It's two weeks after Eddie and Steve accidentally told the Hellfire crew they were a couple, which is why Eddie is not expecting it when Erica and Lucas corner him. He was expecting to be cornered by someone last week.

They'd been taking longer to pack up than usual, and that should have tipped Eddie off that something was up.

"Munson," Erica says in her no-nonsense voice, hands on her hips, face unamused. For sharing no biology with Steve, Eddie finds the resemblance uncanny. "I need you to understand that you might be my Dungeon Master, but Scoops Troop will always trump that, so if you fuck this up with Steve, you will have to answer to me."

Eddie gives a soft grin in response, amused, "no worries, Lady Applejack. I have no plans to fuck this up."

Erica's eyes flick to Lucas, then back to Eddie. "I mean it, Munson. I have it on good authority that sometimes you hurt people and then you don't try to right it. You just move on-"

"Erica, stop it," Lucas says, voice a little panicked.

But Erica continues, because nothing ever seems to phase her, "and Steve and Lucas are alike in that way. So just know that if you hurt Steve like you hurt Lucas-"

"Erica!"

"I will end you. I will ruin your life, Munson-"

"Erica, STOP!" Lucas finally steps forward, yanking on Erica's arm to get her to stop talking. It makes her stumble a bit before rounding on Lucas. "Stop it."

"No!" Erica glares at her brother as she removes his hand from her arm. "Go outside if you don't want to hear it."

They stare each other down and Eddie's not sure what he should be doing. Should he step in? He grew up an only child, is this normal sibling behavior? But he doesn't have to step in because Lucas huffs and storms out of the house, front door clicking softly behind him even though Eddie expected him to slam the door.

"Now, you," Erica whirls around to Eddie, "do you understand what I'm saying?"

Eddie does not. He's fairly certain he's getting a shovel talk from a twelve-year-old and while amusing, he senses there's more to it than just his relationship with Steve. "You're threatening me on Steve's behalf?"

Erica scoffs and rolls her eyes like she thinks Eddie's an idiot. He's starting to think he might be. "Yes, I am but also more. Your relationship has been the hot topic these days, and my brother brought up a good point but he's too nice to say it, so I will. When school starts, if Steve wants to take you to a basketball game, even though they fall on Hellfire night, you postpone the damn game and you go. No matter how much you hate basketball or jocks or- or... other things." She loses steam at the end, eyes flicking to the door.

"What?" Eddie is even more confused, "I don't hate basketball. And if Steve asks, I'm not going to say no, okay? I care about Steve. A lot."

Erica frowns, which contradicts the words that leave her mouth. "Good. That's good. I'd hate to ruin you, Munson."

"Is there... more to it?"

It takes Erica maybe three seconds to decide what she's going to say. Just long enough for her to look at the door, then back to Eddie. "You owe my brother an apology."

"Uh, sure, I'll apologize but for what?"

"Remember the basketball championship and the last session of the Vecna campaign that you wouldn't postpone so Lucas could play? You never apologized," Erica crosses her arms, another move reminiscent of Steve, before continuing, "You didn't apologize, and Lucas thought that it was because he's a jock, and you hate jocks. But now you're dating Steve and he's a jock. So, if you don't hate jocks, Lucas thinks you just hate him."

"What, no, I don't hate Lucas!"

"Then tell him that!" Erica glares at him, "and let this be a little lesson for you. Going forward if you hurt either of my brothers, intentionally or not, you can kiss the tires on your van goodbye."

Eddie tucks his metaphorical tail between his legs and goes outside to apologize, because Lucas deserves to hear it.

Then, once the Sinclairs are gone and Eddie's back in his room, he runs through every conversation he can remember having with Steve. Has he dismissed things Steve liked too easily, too often? Has he said anything offhandedly that could be taken the wrong way without explanation?

Eddie's was an only child and didn't have to grow up worrying about anyone but himself. He made himself an outcast and shunned the 'norm' by choice. Doing so didn't exactly let him learn the social graces of patience and understanding.

It's eye opening, to learn that a decision he made months ago without a second thought has been hurting Lucas this whole time.

Has he ever done that to Steve, and not known it?

-

Steve's been distant these past few days and no matter how many times Eddie asks, Steve's answer doesn't change. I'm fine he says. I'm fine. Just fine. It's fine.

Except nothing feels fine. And Eddie doesn't understand the sharp change. They've got a date planned for tonight. Neither of them has specifically said it out loud, because it's sappy and stupid, but it marks three full months as official boyfriends. So, they've got a date planned, but Eddie's worried how it might end.

Eddie's been floating these last three months, but he suddenly feels grounded. He can't fix whatever happened if Steve won't tell him what it was! And in the absence of actual answers, Eddie's mind has invented his own.

Steve's realized that Eddie's not good enough for him. Steve's realized that he's actually straight, but thanks for the experimentation. Steve's found someone else and is working on how to break up with Eddie without blowing up their friend group in the process.

And Eddie hates himself for thinking these things. For projecting his own insecurities onto a version of Steve that doesn't exist. Eddie's gotten to know Steve.

Or he thought he had.

But now he's pulling away. And the only person he knows he can talk to about dating Steve is Nancy and he can't do that! He can't just go to Nancy's house and ask 'so when you were dating Steve and it was all going down the drain, was he distant or is that just a me thing?'

Fuck. Fuck!

He runs his hands through his hair and regrets it as his curls tangle around the rings on his hands. He should brush his hair, be getting ready, but he's procrastinating that because he can't decide if he's going all out, making himself look his best to see if it'll bring some life back into Steve's eyes when he looks at him, or if he shouldn't try at all and see if Steve even notices he's wearing the same thing he wore yesterday.

And it's bullshit that he's even thinking about testing Steve. Not two months ago he and Robin had argued in that diner about whether he's talk to Steve about these kind of things or not and now he was kind of proving her right. Except not, because he did try to talk! Steve just didn't answer when he questioned, and you can't really build a conversation from nothing.

Fuck! He should have known this would happen. That he would fall in love and Steve wouldn't love him back because that's always been his lot in life.

Oh.

Oh no.

He's been avoiding thinking it because once it's been thought, once it's solidified in his mind, it's true. And now he's thought it!

He's in love with Steve Harrington.

And isn't it just fuckin' peachy that this realization doesn't accompany happy feelings. He's in love and can't even be happy about it because he's so fucking sure his relationship is ending tonight.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can think about it for a little, if you wanna,” Billy offers, not sure what else to say aside from maybe suggesting committing lab-arson, which the other genomorphs probably don’t deserve even if Dr. Desmond and whoever wrote Lynn’s uploads almost definitely does. “Or you can pick one way now and then the other next time, it’s fine to change your mind and all.” 

Lynn stares at him for a moment longer, then just turns stiffly back to the sink and goes back to washing the dishes. 

Well, Lynn just doesn’t really like to talk all that much, Billy’s still pretty sure, so it’s fine. It’s not like Lynn didn’t hear him, so it’s just up to the other what he does or doesn’t do about the dishes. 

They should do a chore chart, maybe, Billy reflects, mulling the idea over briefly. Do chore charts actually work, or is that just a TV thing? It’s probably worth a try either way, he guesses. Like, even if it’s mostly a TV thing, if it works it works, right? 

Though Lynn might think it’s stupid or not like it. But also doing chores is supposed to be good for kids, Billy guesses. Like–he’s always really hated them, because mostly when he had to do chores it was foster families pawning off all the housework on their foster kids or whatever, but . . . yeah. He didn’t mind doing things like cleaning up his room or clearing the dishes or things like that, before, so . . . yeah, again. And the League got them a really nice apartment, so keeping it nice is important, he thinks. 

Also, it’s just the two of them, and nobody’s gonna be screaming at either of them if it does get kinda messy sometimes, so . . . 

Just–yeah. 

Again. 

Later thing either way, Billy reminds himself. They’re still not figuring out everything day one, no matter how much he thinks about it. Maybe they can do up the chore chart together and that’ll be easier, and Lynn won’t mind it as much and–

He’s really nervous, Billy re-realizes resignedly for about the thousandth time of the day. Like way too nervous. So like, he needs to calm down about that. Kids pick up on that kind of thing, for one, even if they don’t get what it’s actually about. 

Lynn finishes up washing the dishes–or at least the dishes so far, anyway–and then starts wiping down the counters instead, and Billy feels dumb for not thinking of doing that himself and then goes looking for the broom because his parents always swept after they wiped down the counters, and also because it seems like a better idea than interrupting Lynn again to offer to do the counters. And it’s teamwork this way, he figures, which Lynn probably needs to get used to? Billy’s not sure if Cadmus would’ve taught him much about teamwork. Or, um . . . literally anything at all, considering. 

Then again, about five seconds into Lynn waking up for the first time Aqualad and Robin and Kid Flash talked him into being their new best friend and starting a superhero team with them, so maybe he’s already figured it out. 

. . . well, the practice can’t hurt anyway, Billy figures, and then finally finds the broom in a weird out-of-the-way side closet and brings it back to sweep the kitchen floor with. Lynn stares blankly at it for a moment, then stares blankly at him for a moment, and then goes and puts the cookbook away. 

Billy sweeps, humming contentedly to himself, and makes sure to get all the corners. Lynn watches him blankly and doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t seem upset or anything so Billy figures he’s doing an okay enough job. 

Maybe he needs to look up how to do chores better, actually. He always got the windows all streaky when he did them in foster care, and he didn’t care there but he definitely cares if Lynn won’t get as much sun or will feel like Billy doesn’t care about keeping the apartment nice for him or–

He’s still way too nervous, Billy re-realizes, and then just makes himself stop worrying and just goes and grabs plates and silverware and puts them all on the coffee table. He sets it kinda like a kitchen table and gets them both a glass of water and brings over the shiny little napkin holder Batman bought them too, because he’s still not sure the actual kitchen table won’t be too much pressure but Lynn went to all the trouble of cooking so they should at least use, like, actual dishes and stuff for it. It looks nicer, and hopefully it’ll make Lynn feel appreciated. 

Lynn watches him the whole time and doesn’t say anything, and then goes and turns a dial on the oven and then sticks in the salmon and asparagus too. He doesn’t set any timers or check the potatoes or anything, which is what Billy’s used to seeing people do while they cook, but he still seems like he knows what he’s doing. He does it all a little unfamiliarly, but–otherwise, yeah. 

Billy doesn’t really know what to talk about right now, honestly, and has to resist the urge to go fiddle with . . . things. Something, he doesn’t know. Maybe he should go look at the potatoes? Or maybe they could reiterate the “no” talk or he could mention the chore chart idea so Lynn knows he’s planning on trying it later and can think about it in advance, or maybe he should ask Lynn if the other’s thought of anything he thinks they need or that he just wants to have around, or maybe he should just calm down for five minutes and just be okay being quiet for five minutes, geez. He’s already been talking Lynn’s ear off as it is. 

He’ll figure out if Lynn likes quiet or maybe will be more talkative once he gets comfortable or maybe just won’t mind noise in general, obviously. Like–unless Lynn decides he’s terrible and he hates the apartment and his room and the library and the diner and Tawky and–no, no, now he’s really being dumb. Nobody’d ever hate Tawky.

[steviewashere]

Love, Rest Your Head

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Canon Typical Injuries Tags: Pre-Season 4, Aftermath of Starcourt Mall, Aftermath of Torture, Season 4, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Steve Harrington, Major Character Injury, Established Relationship, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Mentions of Vomiting, Self Sacrificing Steve Harrington, Mentions of Major Character Death (In Reference to Hopper), Foreshadowing, Ambiguous Ending

💕—————💕 The news was pure devastation. Overhead shots of the Starcourt Mall burning. Flames engulfing the building on all sides, swallowing it up until it sat a collapsed, ashen mess. There was no structure. No semblance to any kind of store that was inside. Just dust. Blackened walls. Melted floor tiles.

Eddie sat on the edge of the couch cushion, left hand tucked harshly under his thigh, chomping down on his right hand’s fingernails. There was a metallic tang on his tongue, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. Not even when the raw, exposed parts of his skin bared themself as a tender ache in his mouth’s warmth. Nothing could stop him. In between bites, there were moments where he was holding his breath. Gasping for it when push eventually came to shove. At least it was air he was choking on, not bile.

His uncle was stoic in his recliner in the corner. Until, with the quietest and gruffest voice Eddie’s ever heard, Wayne said, “Your boy. He’s in the parking lot. Has to be.”

“What if he isn’t?” Eddie barely mustered. “What if—What if he’s not there in the parking lot with all those ambulances? What if Steve’s stuck in the debris and he can’t get out and nobody can hear him and then he doesn’t come home and I never—“ He was back to choking on his breath. Sipping at the smallest pockets of air he could manage.

Wayne didn’t answer. The promises that could be made in this moment, every single one of them could be a fallacy.

Then, the news reporter read out those who suffered in the fire. That crisped with the building. Ones that couldn’t be recovered. Ones that were found, yet only identifiable by the licenses in their pockets.

Jenna Kinling Parker Smith Tony Roberts Billy Hargrove…

Eddie bit his fingers harder at that last name. Maybe they didn’t run in the same circles or maybe they weren’t friends. But Billy was still a young dude. He had a life ahead of him. They had classes together. What if…What if…What if, rings loudly in Eddie’s head.

Except, Steve isn’t listed. Neither is his new friend, Robin. They aren’t…They weren’t found in the rubble. They weren’t believed to be in it either. And, as if on cue, the trailer’s phone begins to ring. Eddie is up and out of his seat before he has a chance to miss a single ring.

“Munson residence, Eddie speaking,” he answers hastily.

On the other end is the wet, nasally, raspy breathing of another person. The deeper the breaths, the more he can make out it’s somebody masculine. Their intakes are interrupted by small sniffles. Short bursting whimpers that come from sure pain, not pleasure.

“Hello?” Eddie speaks quietly.

The person gasps. Sobbing around the words, “Eddie…Eddie, I need help.” Steve.

“I’ll help, sweetheart,” he promises immediately. “What do you need? I—Uncle Wayne is here, too. We can help. We can—“

“‘M at the mall. And it’s all charred and…and gone. And I think I—I left your birthday present in Scoops and I’m sorry that I—My head hurts, Eds. It hurts and I’m bleeding and the paramed—they think…Billy’s dead and I watched him die and it scared me and—I don’t like him, I don’t like him at all but he looked sad and he looked…He’s dead, Eddie. I watched somebody die, Eddie,” Steve rambles. His words are heavily slurred. Barely breaking by his breath. Almost swirled by puke. 

Before Eddie has the chance to interrupt, Steve is continuing. “I protected Robin from getting hurt,” he says seriously, gravely. But his next words are tiny, as if Eddie was listening to a child, not his eighteen year old boyfriend. “You’re going to be mad at me.”

“Why?” He asks. Shakes his head though, and asks instead, “Where should I pick you up? Does Robin have a ride home?”

“I got beat up again,” Steve barrels on. “’T’s really bad, Eds. Everything is ringing. Makin’ me nauseous.” His breaths grow heavier as if he’s ready to retch on his sneakers.

Eddie prepares himself to hear it all, because he knows it’ll happen. Knows it like the back of his hand, unfortunately. From how many other times Steve’s been concussed. Yet, he doesn’t care, saying, “I’ll take care of you here at home, but I need you to tell me where I need to pick you up. Does Robin need a ride?”

Steve mumbles, “She already left. Hugged her and everythin’. Rob—Robin’s safe. I protected her from getting hurt. They were going to hurt her, Eds. It would’ve been my fault for getting her involved.”

The words crawl under Eddie’s skin like spiders. He wants to scratch at himself, get them out of his head. Get away from how small each word is that comes from Steve’s mouth. He wants to find out who ‘They’ are and kill them. Wants to rip this world apart for making Steve sound so…horrified. But he just calmly asks, “Where are you, Steve? Where at the mall are you?”

“Front,” Steve mutters, “at the payphone. The one with all the gum on the back. It’s gross, Eds. I feel gross. Smell like—I’m sorry.”

Eddie just swallows harshly. Doesn’t know why Steve’s apologizing. But he’s scared shitless, that’s for sure. He grabs for his car keys on the dining table. “I’m going to hang up, Stevie. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

The last thing he hears is Steve coughing and retching up his lungs. Spiders work their way into his veins.

——— Sure enough, Steve’s by the payphone. Sitting with his knees up to his chest. Leaning against the thin pole of the phone. Inches away from whatever lunch he had last. Doesn’t look like much. Eddie just thought Steve was busy with work and relaxing at home. Though…Eddie’s starting to piece together that maybe Steve never left work. Like he’s been here way too long.

Steve shivers where he grasps to himself and Eddie approaches with great caution.

He crouches down to Steve’s level, keeps his hands to himself, and speaks softly. “Steve, it’s Eddie. I brought you a jacket. And some water. I’ve got crackers. You ready to go home?”

With his one good eye, Steve looks to him. Blood caked around his nose and mouth and chin. Eyebrow split, though covered with a butterfly bandage. His left eye is swollen shut and a deep, concerning purple. A part of Eddie almost wants to ask who left Steve here like this. To sit by himself and hold to his elbows. But, a stronger part of him cares too much about making sure Steve gets home.

Slowly, Steve reaches out his right hand and grasps at Eddie’s left wrist. Thumb harsh over his pulse point. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. Without any fanfare or warning, Steve’s eyes fill with tears. Streaming down his face in sluggish lines. “I was stupid and got in trouble again and now I’m all…I’m all broken and ugly and I smell really bad and you’re gonna have to stay awake with me because I’m not allowed to sleep and I—“

“Baby,” Eddie whispers lowly, “Steve, I’m just glad that you’re alive. I’d rather look after you all beaten up and bloody than…Well, y’know.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” Steve meekly asks.

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”

With great force, Steve shakes his head. Hissing and hiccuping at the pain that surges through him. “It hurts so bad,” he whimpers. “I just—They were going to hurt Robin and—and the kids. I couldn’t let them do that and now I—“

Eddie gently shushes him. “You don’t need to explain yourself right now, okay, sweetheart? We’ll talk about it when you’re better.”

“What if I never talk about it?”

He shrugs. Wraps his free hand over Steve’s where it still grips him. “Then you don’t talk about it,” he whispers. “Let me take you home, though? Give you the food and water I brought. Warm you up and change your clothes. Can clean your face,” Eddie lists. He cups the injured side of Steve’s face with a tentative hand, barely touching his swollen skin. “Clean this all up and brush your hair. Let you sleep.”

“I can’t sleep for long,” Steve reminds him.

“Wake you up every few hours, that’s fine. I don’t have school tomorrow, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“‘M’kay,” Steve agrees quietly. He’s drooping in Eddie’s hold. Exhaustion quickly swamping him. “Sorry if I throw up in the car.”

Eddie gently hefts them up off the ground, leads them towards the van, and gets Steve situated in his passenger seat. He murmurs, as he buckles Steve in, “I can clean up. But I’ll leave the window rolled down. I’ll drive slow. Do you want the jacket?”

Steve shakes his head softly. His eyes are closed and the rest of him is very still to his seat. As if moving anything physically pains him. It probably does, based on what Eddie’s able to see. “I don’t want to be reminded of the heat,” he state quietly.

“Okay,” Eddie whispers. He leans up into Steve’s space, presses a short kiss to his temple, and cranks the passenger window down. “Just lean towards the window a little. Rest. I’ve got you, baby.”

The car ride is incredibly slow, it makes Eddie antsy. But out of the corner of his eye, he notices Steve tensing at every gradual rumble and deep pothole. It makes Eddie want to just get out and push the van. He slides a hand off of the steering wheel and goes to grab Steve’s left wrist, but he jolts away. Head colliding solidly with the window frame.

“Don’t,” Steve bites. “Don’t touch me there,” he whispers.

Eddie swallows down the sudden rise of bile in his throat. “Okay, Steve,” he murmurs right back. “Do you…you need me to pull off for a second? Give you a break from the bumpy road?” Steve gives a slow and tentative nod.

He pulls to the shoulder, parks in silence, and just sits in the driver’s seat. Face forward, eyeing beyond the windshield. He’d turn on the radio, try to fill the gap between their bodies, but knows that the noise would be too much. Instead, he listens in on Steve’s audible deep breaths. Like he’s trying to ground himself to the carseat or maybe veer away from puking out the window. Eddie wants to touch and soothe, like he normally would during Steve’s concussions. But…he can’t. There are tears percolating in the corners of his eyes.

“You need water?” Eddie quietly asks.

“Please,” Steve mutters lowly. His voice is crackling and snotty wet.

Eddie moves slowly between the front seats, grabs an unopened bottle of water, and uncaps it. He leans across the center console to find a straw in the glove box. Plops it in the bottle and offers it up for Steve to take. “Slow sips,” Eddie states, “don’t need to make yourself sicker.” Steve angles his body away from the window, leans forward slightly, and takes the straw between his lips. Each swallow of water looks like he’s trying to consume rocks. His tongue working slowly, hesitantly against the straw. Testing it. “You’re doing a good job,” Eddie can only praise.

When Steve pops off the straw, it’s with a gasping breath. Catching and falling and catching again. He lolls his head on the seat, looking over to Eddie. Chest moving up and down with shallow, croaking shakes of air. “We can go,” he rasps, “I wanna sleep.”

The water bottle goes to the cup holders. And Eddie does what he’s told. Crawling slowly back home. Taking small pauses to check in with Steve, help him drink water, nibble on some crackers, rub his back when he hurls out the car window.

But when they make it back home, they move in complete and utter silence. Through the front door and to the couch. Wayne ogles the two of them, fear present in his eyes. His mouth hangs open, suckled dry of all words he could ever think to say. Eddie makes him grab a bowl of warm water and a rag.

And they just exist in silence.

In fear, Eddie now realizes, of whatever happened to Steve.

Because they’re not stupid. This wasn’t a fire. There was something else. Something more…disastrous. Dastardly. But Eddie places the bowl on the coffee table, sits on Steve’s right on the cushions, and turns them towards each other.

“Alright, I’ve gotta clean the blood off of your face, Stevie,” he encroaches their silence. “I’m going to be really careful. I’ll go slow. But I need you to tell me when you need a break, okay?” Steve blinks groggily at him. His eyes are dilated beyond belief. Eddie’s nauseous just looking at them. These aren’t the eyes he fell in love with.

These eyes are like terror in existential form.

Steve nods, though. He places a shaking hand on Eddie’s left knee. Doesn’t tighten it, doesn’t pet the fabric under his hand, just rests it there. As if he’s searching for an anchor.

Eddie wets the wash rag with the warm water. Raises it to Steve’s chin. “If this hurts, you need to tell me. Here we go.” The rag stains pink and crimson as soon as it touches Steve’s skin. He hates how hard he has to press just to work the blood off, but it’s dried to him. It’s coming off in flakes, Eddie sees the particles fall to Steve’s dirtied uniform. As he works the rag over Steve’s face, he can’t help but notice how stained and red the uniform is, too.

It used to be something Eddie could tease Steve about. Be flirtatious and saucy about it. Talk about stupid things with. Make dumb fantasies and see if Steve will play into them. But looking at it now only makes Eddie’s chest hurt. Makes his stomach turn uneasily. Shrivels something inside of him that will never live again. But he’ll get Steve into his clothes. Get him comfortable. Maybe he’ll burn the uniform when Steve isn’t looking. Rid of it like a demon needing to be expelled.

The last bit of the blood finally comes away, flaking from Steve’s nostrils to the washcloth. Eddie places it back in the pink tinted water. And then he looks back. At Steve’s child like eyes. And his split lip. The plum like bruise around his left eye.

Eddie’s never had homicidal thoughts, but today might just be the eye opener for him.

But he continues to be gentle. Offering, “Let’s get you some of my clothes. I’ll wash your hair in the bathroom sink. Then, you can rest.” Steve just nods, allows Eddie to pull him along to the bedroom, and change him out of his clothes. Ignores the slight bruising on his ribs, where he most likely struggled or fell. Tries to not think about the red, twisting lines across Steve’s chest, arms, and wrists from where he’d been tied. Just covers Steve back up in reds and blacks and soft things. And, while Steve is looking away, throws the Scoops uniform away in a nearby waste basket.

Washing his hair is no struggle. Steve goes listless and quiet when Eddie scrubs at his scalp, carefully detangles knots that were glued together by sticky blood. He barely blinks as he watches Eddie move and go through his hair washing routine. Doesn’t protest any of what Eddie chooses to do—even when he puts too much conditioner in the ends of his hair or doesn’t do two wash throughs with the shampoo, even if he uses a hair dryer instead of a towel. Allows him, which Eddie finds a little odd. He has an inkling, though, that it may just be the gentle touch that Steve doesn’t want to mitigate.

When they’re back in bed, Eddie lays flat on the mattress. Putting space between their two bodies. His alarm is set for three hours from now, where he’ll wake Steve up and make sure his concussion symptoms either are stagnant or lessening. But for now, he just stays put. Eyes up at his ceiling, stomach turning and knotting at whatever happened today.

Whatever happened almost doesn’t matter, knowing Steve made it out alive.

But there’s a haunting to him that Eddie can’t ignore.

Right when he thinks Steve is asleep and goes to close his own eyes, does he hear the smallest of statements.

“Hopper died, too,” Steve murmurs.

“No…”

Steve nods sagely against his pillow. “Heard about it through some of the kids I babysit. Guess he…Guess I wasn’t the only one to make a sacrifice.” Eddie hears him shift, coming closer. His body warmth radiating and tight against his rigid body. There’s a hesitant palm that slithers and sits on Eddie’s chest. Where his heart beats rabidly. “Could…Could’a been me.”

Eddie places his own hand over the back of Steve’s. Presses them together firmly. His chest caving with the push. “Don’t say that,” he harshly whispers. “Don’t…Steve, I thought it was going to be you. Please don’t say that.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just…That’s the only thing I could think of before you got me. How I—I almost didn’t get to see you again.”

“At least you’re with me now, right? I’m just glad that you’re alive.”

“Yeah,” Steve croaks. “I just wish I could bring myself to tell you what happened.”

“Don’t need to do that, Steve. Just rest up and get better for me, alright?”

Steve shuffles closer. His head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. He nods. “Thank you. I love you,” he sleepily murmurs.

Eddie wraps an arm around his back and squeezes him tightly. “I love you, too, love bug. Get some sleep and I’ll check on you in a bit.”

The snores are a comfort after tonight.

——— And when he looks Steve in the eyes, mere seconds before he leaves for Vecna, Eddie understands the harrowing sacrificial fear. He’ll be the one to protect Steve now. “Make him pay,” he says. But he knows, reflected in Steve’s eyes, that there is finality in his stare. His stomach turns and his hands shake, but damnit, he’ll make sure that Steve won’t be the one drowning in blood this time.

He hopes to hear snores against his shoulder tomorrow night.

If night comes.

💕—————💕

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi!

Can we go a batfamily x fem child reader?

Reader is like the personification of Gotham

Reader take strolls around Gotham to help people

Reader she's like prim and proper and elegant

Reader who's a little insane and a bit mad

Reader who had a old and dark mansion at the end of Gotham

Reader who's favorite is red hood

Reader who won't hesitate to kill but she stop herself

Reader who got adopted by the batfam

(Can you base reader of this?)

I’ll try my best with this!

-It was strange, seeing such a young child wandering the streets of Gotham so late at night- you didn’t seem scared at all, as you wandered around, almost like you were exploring.

-Batman was watching you from a rooftop, curious about you, wondering where your parents were and wondering why you weren’t scared as you looked out over the harbor.

-His many adopted children were also curious about you- looking down at you, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin as you were skipping down the road past a group of thugs as Robin spoke, “Is she really that brave, or just stupid?”

-When one of the thugs grabbed you by the back of your dress, hauling you up, they were quickly springing into action, rushing to you.

-Red Hood hit the one holding you and when you landed hard on your butt, everything froze as a minor earthquake shook the city. Nobody paid it any mind as Red Hood grabbed you, holding you up in his arms as they all took care of the thugs.

-When someone managed to hit Red Hood from behind, he went down hard and took you with him, but he did his best to protect you, but once again, when you hit the ground, another earthquake rumbled through before tears welled in your eyes as you realized, “You’re hurt!” the skies, which had been clear, suddenly darkened with clouds, and rain fell as the first tear slipped down your cheek.

-Nightwing was the one to take you from Red Hood, trying to calm you down as just as the rain started with your tears started, it stopped when you calmed down. Batman was curious, seeing that it was a bit odd, as he remembered the earthquakes as well.

-You were taken to the roof by the group with Red Robin and Red Hood going to get food for everyone, including you, and you introduced yourself, “My name is Y/N!”

-Batman was very patient with you, “Where are your parents Y/N?” you tilted your head to the side, like you were confused, “I don’t have any.”

-They all froze, realizing that you were an orphan, but you didn’t seem bothered as Bruce spoke again, “Where do you live then?”

-You stood from Bruce’s arms, looking out over the horizon, to a large mansion that has long been abandoned, being condemned but not destroyed as it was a piece of Gotham history, being the first building in Gotham, “In that house- that’s where I was born and raised!”

-They all shared a look, a bit concerned, thinking you were an abandoned child that was delusional. When the food arrived, Bruce handed you a burger and you smiled, “Thank you Mr. Wayne!”

-They all froze in shock, hearing you calling him by his actual name, Bruce cautiously speaking, “You know who I am?” you didn’t look bothered, smiling up at him and that’s when he noticed that your eyes were much older than what you looked like- like you were an old soul, “You know who I am?”

-You smiled, but it was almost unsettling, “I do- I know each person that has been born in, lived, and died in Gotham. It’s kind of my job.”

-Okay you just went from poor abandoned delusion child to scary really quick. Damien was quickly on guard, ready to fight you if you were deemed a threat as Jason spoke, looking curious, “And what exactly is your job?”

-You beamed as you stood, twirling before facing them, the Gotham skyline behind you, “I am Gotham! Or at least the personification of Gotham.”

-They all froze before Tim spoke up, “Wait so those earthquakes we felt and the rain when you started crying, that was all you?” you nodded, taking your seat again, but this time in Jason’s lap, as you liked him because he protected you, “Yup- when I’m happy it’s sunny and clear, when I’m sad it rains, when I’m mad it storms, and if I get hurt then bad things happen.”

-Batman was curious about you, and the more he heard, the more his internal adoptive impulses were flaring up, but so were the others, as they realized this was true- you were Gotham.

-You accepted their invitation to live with them with little to no hesitation, showing them that you had little to no fear, which was a bit concerning, but you were excited to have a family again!

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Ficlet!!!

Prompt B, 🐉, 🫂, 🗝️

And congratulations!!!!🥂

Ficlet!!! It's always such a delight visiting these two, so thank you for the prompt.

Learning to fall

Words: 985

Rated: E

Tags: Fantasy AU; dragon Eddie; King Steve; established relationship; soul bond; nightmares; hurt/comfort; explicit sexual content; nudity, biting; monsterfucking

Notes: set in the same universe as Hic sunt dracones

Sometimes, at night, Steve's head takes him back to the dark moments.

Sometimes he's back in the dungeons, and nobody comes to save him. Eddie cannot find him, not with their torn soul bond. Robin is imprisoned somewhere else, and when the guards drag him away to the executioner’s block, he knows that they’re going to kill her before him, just to make him suffer more.

Sometimes, he’s back in the courtyard, the storm raging all around him, fire and debris raining from the skies, and the huge crossbow looms before him. He tries to reach it, but he can’t gain an inch. He screams until his voice cracks, but Eddie can’t hear him, and he has to watch again as the giant bolt pierces his dragon right through the heart and takes him out of the sky.

This time, he’s back in the tower, rushing up the spiral of a never-ending stairway while thunder roars outside and the fight rages on below him. He’s barefoot and keeps slipping on his own blood, and the wound in his side tears further with every step, but he forces himself to go faster still.

He doesn’t make it in time. He never does.

He scales the last steps and stumbles into the ruins of his old chambers just in time to see Carver swing his blade.

His dragon looks up. Their gazes lock.

The blow connects and the light in those beautiful golden eyes goes out.

And Steve screams.

The sound of it startles him into consciousness. For a moment, he flails in that weird, hazy state between waking and sleeping, and it feels like falling, feels like plummeting from the tower all over again.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s not real.”

Arms and wings and a tail wrap around him, pulling him tightly against a warm body. Hands card through his hair. His mate’s mind nudges against his own, as comforting and familiar as his touch.

“It’s not real, you’re dreaming.”

Steve sobs, and it’s equal parts terror and relief. Eddie just holds him, kisses the tears off his lashes, and waits until his shoulders stop shaking.

“I was too late,” Steve murmurs against the crook of his neck, once he trusts his voice not to hitch. “He killed you.”

“You weren't,” Eddie says, nuzzling the top of his head. “And he didn't. I’m right here. Safe and yours, alright?”

Steve laughs around the last few hiccups. They’re both here in their nest, the first rays of early morning sunlight creeping in through the windows, with their kingdom slowly waking up underneath them.

“Yeah,” he says, shaky hands reaching out to run along the curve of his dragon’s horns. “Yeah, alright.”

Eddie rumbles in pleasure, eyes gleaming gold in the light of the new day.

“Say it,” he mutters, nipping at the bite mark on Steve’s shoulder with sharp fangs. Steve’s laughter catches in his throat, but this time, it’s for entirely different reasons. “Say it, beloved, please.”

“You’re safe,” he replies teasingly, knowing full well it’s not what Eddie meant. Sure enough, he’s rewarded with an impatient growl and another bite. “Ow, alright already, you clingy dragon. You’re also mine.”

“And you are mine,” Eddie murmurs, pulling him in, and then neither of them says much for a while.

*

The sun is well on its way over the castle walls by the time Steve disentangles himself from his mate’s arms and the warmth of their nest. Eddie, who was dozing with his face buried in the sheets, looks up as he slips a shirt over his head, and groans in annoyance.

“Why the fuck are you dressed?”

Steve, who is squinting at the mirror and running a brush through his hair, rolls his eyes at his own reflection. “Because I have a court waiting for me, and unlike you, they prefer it when I’m not butt ass naked. Now stop whining, I should’ve been downstairs-”

The sound of a lock clicking shut makes him pause. When he turns, Eddie is propped against the door, lazily twirling the key around one finger.

“Eddie, come on,” Steve sighs. “What are you doing?”

He walks over and grabs for the key. Eddie tucks it behind his back. Steve tries to reach around him. Eddie dances out of his way, but his tail curls around Steve's waist, pulling him along. Before he knows it, they're back in the nest, half wrestling for the key, half chasing each other's lips and tongues, and Eddie is slipping the offending shirt off his shoulders again.

“Obvious, isn't it?” he answers Steve's question, albeit a bit belatedly. “I'm making sure you stay. I want to keep you all to myself.”

He kisses his way down Steve’s collarbone and chest, and the soul bond shivers with their mingled desire. Steve grumbles reluctantly, even as he melts into the touch.

“Eddie, I can't. There's things I need to do, I-”

But then Eddie pushes his head between his legs, fangs grazing the inside of his thigh, and he forgets what it is he needs to do.

“Let me take care of you, my king,” his dragon rumbles, effortlessly picking up on his train of thought. “That's the only thing you need to do right now. Everything else can wait for a few hours.”

Sometimes, Steve's head takes him back to the dark moments.

Sometimes, he forgets he doesn’t have to be tough all the time, that he can rest and show weakness and let himself fall. Sometimes he thinks it will always be like this.

That is alright, though. Eddie loves all of him. The dark parts and the weak ones, on the days where he feels like he can touch the sky, and on the days where it feels like he's plummeting back into the abyss.

Letting himself fall doesn't seem so scary, these days. He knows he'll always have someone to catch him.

More celebration ficlets

[ghost-bxrd]

ok you said go wild and i will fully embrace that. i wanted to brainstorm about this idea I had and had also posted but like in a sentence, when it’s more of an outline. it’s of a robin!tim that can sense dead people so when the red hood makes his debut he’s naturally curious and tim follows him around and jason obviously realizes, holds up a knife to his throat and startles when tim asks “how are you here” with just no regards for his own safety and genuine curiosity?? literally not knowing he’s jason but jason stops and goes “you know who I am?” and tim whispers “I know you died” and jason coils back because that is as much confirmation as he needs cue panic because the kid knows surely then the bat knows too and that just won’t do, so in his panic he ends up kidnapping the kid and taking him to his safehouse where he keeps pacing because jason needs answers and he refuses to get them torturing the kid (because fucking kid had gone out looking for him despite knowing the red hood had it out of his head, did this kid even have any self preservation skills? he didn’t even seemed fazed jason’s back??which wow, hurt not gonna lie) then when tim wakes up because jason knocked him unconscious the reveal happens and Tim is so shocked that Jason is shocked because bitch I thought you knew!!! what how the fuck would I know!! chaos ensues but then jason abruptly realizes this is great! his plans did not derail *looks at timbo munching his food and watching indiana jones* his plan with the bat he means

Jason, sitting in a room with all his plans on fire: This is fine :’D

No but seriously, I LOVE a Tim with the self preservation instinct of a wet paper towel. He’s a competent teen vigilante, but where it concerns the Bats (and especially his hero, Jason) he’s an absolute human disaster.

Ok but first of all we need to talk a bit more thoroughly about “sensing the dead” thing. Dead as in ghosts? Or dead as in— murder victims and such. Either would apply to Jason if we go with a “Death clings to people who’ve seen beyond the veil” scenario, but Tim’s thoughts would differ vastly upon first meeting the Red Hood.

And Jason, poor Jason, the Pit Madness didn’t stand a chance faced with what is essentially a toddler looking at him with wide and curious eyes, so damn trusting despite that knife to his throat, and he’s just losing his mind because he could have slit Tim’s throat and nobody would have found out until it was too late. What if Jason had been literally anybody else? The kid would have died.

Obviously this Robin can’t be trusted to keep himself safe/alive, that means Jason has to do it for him. Easy. He can do this. It’s cool. Jason is freaking the fuck out.

Tim, upon realizing that the Red Hood is Jason, promptly goes from mildly alarmed over his kidnapping to ✨starstruck✨ and steadfastly refuses to leave Jason’s safehouse unless Jason agrees to come back to the manor. No, he doesn’t care about the multitude of death threats (he totally calls the bluff from the get go).

Jason promptly decides to make the best out of a shitty situation and pretends to be an evil kidnapper and just— keeps dangling the baby bird over Bruce and Dick’s head, slipping them concerning photos (Tim wasn’t exactly happy about the “hostage photo shooting session” but he agreed after Jason promised to make him his special coffee flavored cake) and telling them he’s torturing their Robin with a crowbar (because Jason is a drama queen).

And you know what else would be funny? If, after a few days, Tim slips out to go on patrol with Jason. He completely ignores Bruce and/or Dick when the call out to him and actively helps Hood with his crime stuff (while also sneakily forcing Hood to cut down on the killing by about— 80-90%).

Bruce and Dick are fairly convinced they’re looking at a brainwashing situation.

[yellowbunnydreams]

The Blood Runs Thicker (part 18) ~vampire!William Afton x F! Reader~

~I have many plans for this series still! I wanted to thank everybody for their continued support.~

Tag-List; @ruh--roh-raggy @randymeeksisafinalgirl @sleepy---head @robin-the-enby @hungrhay @likoplays @slxsher-whxre @nicolezghostz @spiderlilytengu @yondus-girl @puppetstr1ings @tylerxrbtwhp

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

CW:Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - ??), graphic acts of violence, biting, knife-play, blood, blood-drinking/licking, mention of dead children, anaemia. Mentions of torture. Drama/Angst. Possessive behaviour, choking, hickeys, murder, intoxication/substance abuse

The car ride from Henry's was mostly silent.

William hadn't disclosed what he had done, and Henry had let them leave without much of a goodbye, only stopping to hand you his number 'in case you needed anything'. Staring out of the window, you watched as the sky got darker again, the deep indigo colour bleedings into the rose golds and violets of the setting sun across the Utah landscape. You wondered where you were heading, but you could feel the foul mood that William was in as he quietly simmered and gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

Eventually, he pulled into a motel parking lot, the low lighting making everything seem all too grimy as William got out of the car and slammed the door shut. You flinched, watching him leave as he headed towards the reception, leaving you to wait for him in the car.

It took less than five minutes for him to return, although he didn't head towards the car, but rather a room. You got out of his car and jogged over towards him as best as you could, feeling his scowl even though his face was turned away from you. He practically shouldered the door open when it didn't open immediately for him, holding it open and making a vague gesture for you to step inside.

The room was much like any other motel you'd seen the inside of. Beige upon beige and beige again, with a sickly yellow light that complimented nobody and turned what you supposed was meant to be a blue bed-spread into something sickly greenish. Although, you were surprised to see two single beds rather than a double. Raising an eyebrow at Afton, who had disappeared back to the car to grab a few bags and bringing them in before he closed the door with an air of finality.

"Where are we heading?" You asked finally, the first words that had been spoken since the house, and William paused, looking at part of the floor before shrugging his shoulders nochelantly.

"To see a friend." Was the curt reply, but you felt something boiling up inside you as you looked up at him. Making your heart pound loudly in your ears.

"See, the last time you said that, I found out you nearly ate another kid and instead paralysed her for life, and-"

"Shut up." He hissed, but you were too angry to stop, your arms flailing in agressive gesticulation.

"And your so-called 'friend' had been waiting to beat your ass for twenty years? He also figured out what you were and basically told you that you would never be friends agai-"

You didn't get to finish the sentence as William was suddenly on you and slamming you so hard into the thin plaster wall that you saw stars. His hand around your throat and squeezing tighter than would have perhaps been safe, your hands moving up to his and scratching and scrambling, trying to get him to loosen it as he growled in your face. His pupils were pin-pricks, hyper-focused on you as his lip curled up into a snarl.

"I said...SHUT. UP." Yelling the last two words with a shake of your weakening body as if the sudden outburst of violence hadn't punctuated the fact you should have listened before. "God, you are so fucking perfect aren't you? Like you've never made a mistake! You think I wanted to hurt kids?"

You couldn't answer, choking as your vision began to turn to a fuzzy black at the edges before William dropped you, leaving you gasping, curled in on yourself as you gripped onto the trashy carpet like it was your only life-line to keep you grounded. William stood over you and ran his hands through his hair, tousling the greying that would never grow further or go away as he closed his eyes and looked to the ceiling.

"Bunny..." He cooed after a moment, turning his head down to look at you, kneeling down and you saw something raw behind his eyes when you pushed yourself away from him. Your breathing hard as your hand moved up to your throat, it felt hard to breathe, and something didn't feel quite right internally. "Baby, I'm sorry."

"Let me help you. Please? I...I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have, you were right to be angry with my answer." His voice was still soft, reaching out to you, you tried to swallow and found it almost impossible as you let out a slightly gurgling wheeze, and deciding that you were still unsure about his mood swing, you took his hand cautiously.

William picked you up when you reached your hand out to him, putting you into his lap and cradling you against him as he sat on the nearest bed. Soothing your hair with one hand as he brought his other hand to his mouth, making your eyes widen in horror as he bit into his own wrist hard enough you could see a chunk come away with it that he didn't spit out. Lips and beard bloody as he pressed the profusely spurting tissue to your lips, realising he had torn open an artery. You refused to open your mouth, but William continued to soothe your hair.

"Bunny, drink up. You're....You're not going to become like me, you've healed this way before." He assured, and something desperate in his voice encouraged you to comply. Parting your lips and latching onto him, biting into his skin with a hiss of displeasure from him as you felt his body tensing up behind you. Fighting every instinct as you swallowed, your eyes flickering up to his face. "Yeah...Yeah I deserved that."

Surprisingly, after a few mouthfuls, it started to taste good. Something smoky and complex, rich and like a hint of the cinnamon sugar you had tasted in the tea at Henry's, but you practically whined as William took his wrist away from you. Blinking as you realised your vision felt different, like it was swimming slightly and the light was too bright, making you squint against it. William continued to soothe your hair.

"You can't have much more than that, bunny. You're already probably experiencing side-effects." He murmured against your head as he left a kiss against your hair. Your hand moved up to your throat before his large hands encircled your wrists and held you still from touching it. "Don't touch it for now, please? I'll turn off the lights for a bit, I need you to sleep for it to work best of all, I promise I'll be right here."

Afton slipped out from underneath you, and you shielded your eyes against the light as he walked over and flicked off the lights. Your eyes felt instantly better, and you swore you could hear a slowly thumping heart beat getting louder as you could make out William's steps getting closer.

"Why...?" Your voice was hoarse, and you heard William tutting as he gently guided you to lay down, taking off your shoes for you and wrapping the duvet cover around you. Hearing the mattress squeak under his weight and his hand returned to your hair.

"Because you're here. Because I couldn't express how many times I've thought of Charlie over the years and how much regret I've carried with me for the things I've done." His voice in the dark sounded...weak...sad. His fingers in your hair were the most gentle he'd ever been with you, and you found yourself closing your eyes to the gentle motion.

"Kids?"

"They were easiest to lure away. I couldn't....I tried not to leave everything behind. I tried not to give in to the hunger that I had developed seemingly overnight. When you turn, it's...it's intense. It's a hunger that gnaws at you and gnaws until there is nothing left but rage at everything. You're overstimulated. Lights suddenly hurt your eyes, sounds are too loud, people....People are a whole other overstimulating experience." He sighed, chewing his lip as he let the dark mask everything he was confessing like a comfort blanket.

"Charlie....Charlie was the first person I saw when I was dumped on my ass after trying to find food from an adult. You're so overwhelmed, your body is changing in ways you don't want or understand and that makes you vulnerable. I was half-feral with hunger, my ego had been bruised, and then there she was....I have regretted that day ever since. Every family I ruined because I was too overwhelmed to figure out how to feed safely and without people whilst I was young."

You reached out your hand from your little cocoon, and held onto his rough hand. Whilst your mind was still reeling from all the information, you could hear in his voice the real regret behind it. After a moment, he held onto yours too, his thumb stroking over the smoothness of your skin. He couldn't deny the sick part of him that thrilled at seeing you marked up and bruised because of him, but there was something simmering beneath it all that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Sorry...." The word came out weakly, and you realised how pathetic it was of you to forget that you were with a killer. Somebody who actively gained from hurting you. But you heard the tenderness in the dark, your mouth tasted more than copperish, surely he wouldn't have done such a thing if he truly believed your life wasn't worth it?

"No need bunny, I'm the one who should be sorry."

"You're...hurt...too..."

"Still not quite as good as our first meeting." You heard him chuckle as he gave your hand a squeeze, bringing it up his lips which felt unusually cool compared to how hot the vampire usually ran. Thinking back to when he had chased you down in the pizzeria and how you had fought tooth and nail, how you'd been the first to injure him in quite a while. "But yes, I've given a lot more blood than I'm usually comfortable with."

"Charlie...?"

It took William a moment to answer as he considered how to. You weren't stupid, no matter how many times he called you his dumb bunny, or tutted and rolled his eyes like it was obvious. You had been scared, naturally, but it had developed either in Stockholm Syndrome trust in him or something had genuinely happened for him to earn your trust, but you had been more receptively curious about it all. You had asked questions, even if Michael had been your original tutor, which he regretted allow to happen.

"It won't be quick. But...Since I heal, and whatever consumes my blood heals...as long as she remembers, as long as Henry follows my instructions, she will recover. She will be broken to be mended, and I hope Henry has the strength to do it." His voice was soft, almost whistful as he held onto your hand. Bringing it back up to his lips and kissing your palm before he shuffled around and left the bed, leaving you alone as you heard the other bed creaking quietly.

You could feel those silver eyes on your in the dark as your own eyes began to flutter shut, breathing deepening as something akin to calmness swept over you. It wasn't the euphoria that Michael had provided, it was something warmer still.

It was honesty between equals.

The sunlight streaming in the next day when you woke you up, hearing the birds chirping outside as you stirred from the too hard mattress that had worn down so you could feel each spring digging into your sides. Everything still felt mildly too bright, but it was certainly a lot better than the night before, where it felt like your head might explode if you accidentally looked at the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

Looking over to William in the next bed over, you noticed how he was laid flat on his back, a book laid across his chest and his glasses still on. But his chest didn't seem to be moving, and you were never sure if the vampire was sleeping or not, you'd learned that lesson the hard way.

William didn't stir, and so you slipped out of your bed, carefully picking up the book and marking the page with a small dog-ear and carefully reaching up to take his glasses from his face. Placing the gold aviators on top of the book on the bedside table, you stood over him for a few moments.

It would be all too easy for you to grab something sharp and attempt to end him.

Thinking for a moment, you decided that you didn't have the heart to carry out such a threat in your heart of hearts. Grabbing the covers from your bed, you shuffled over and climbed onto the bed next to him. Precariously perched on the edge, you froze as William shifted and wrapped his arms around you, pulling the blanket over both of you and cradling you to his chest. He didn't seem to move otherwise, and you felt your heart pounding as you worried you were about to get into trouble.

The vampire sighed and kissed the top of your head, squeezing you softly. Your name falling from his lips quietly, the first time he had used it in a while, the sound of his deep, gravelly voice filled with sleep and murmuring your name sent butterflies into your stomach.

He settled back down once again, and you felt your own eyes growing heavy again as he held you close. But you decided that you needed to do something rather than fall asleep again, tilting your head up to give William a kiss on his cheek and smiling softly as he groaned whilst you wriggled out of his arms. Making sure to tuck him back into the covers before you headed towards to bathroom to freshen up.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall once you'd finished showering, you were surprised to find that it was late afternoon, and not in fact, morning. Blinking as you wondered how long you had slept, and how William was still asleep. He looked peaceful, but you could see the bruising still settled under his skin and beard, and the wound on his wrist had been bound up, but a quick peek told you that there was still a significant wound even if it wasn't bleeding anymore.

He needed to eat, you needed to as well. But you knew he had been reserved on feeding off of you for a few days now, even though you weren't quite sure why.

It took you all of twenty-five minutes to think of a plan.

Taking some cash from William's wallet, you grabbed a pen and paper and wrote out everything you were planning on doing, you just hoped that William would wake up in time, and where you were going. Apologising for taking money, but explaining the reasons as you knew he would approve of them once he'd read the note.

Grabbing a brochure from the table, you tucked it into your pocket, put on your shoes and grabbed a little extra cash for a safety buffer. Heading out of the motel and into the wide world beyond.

It was lucky that the motel was on the outskirts of some city that you didn't recognise, and you were able to get the bus into the heart of it. There were so many people, and you weren't sure how you were going to navigate the plan successfully, but you were determined to try.

You had to after all, you wanted to see that proud smile on William's face again and hear him tell you that you were his clever bunny again.

Once night fall had arrived, your plan had been set into motion.

You had spent the day wandering the city and managing to slowly make your way around various drug stores, testing make-up as you went until you had a full face of it. A sample of perfume had also been obtained from some store under the pretence of making sure that your boyfriend liked it before buying the whole bottle. You'd bought yourself some food, eating something slightly unhealthy but filling as you knew William wouldn't have approved of you eating too much fast food.

But your main purchase of the day had been a burner phone, a dress and some heels.

You headed to one of the more popular nightclubs in the city, stopping in a dark alleyway along the way and changing out into the dress and heels carefully. Placing them into a bag you managed to secret away, you fluffed your hair and made sure that if felt alright before you headed towards the nightclub and flirted just enough with the bouncer to get you in without the cover fee.

The dress you had chosen for the evening was a long sleeved, black number that hugged your bust and flared at your waist with a slit up to your hip on one side. There were black sequins and golden thread weaved together in some intricate design you hadn't paid much attention to, but combined with the black heels you had found, you had achieved your goal of looking like sex incarnate.

The night was barely beginning, and so you slipped into the bathroom and scrawled the number of the disposable cell onto the wall in black sharpie with 'call for a good time' written above it.

Nobody even noticed you slipping out of the men's room as the club filled up.

You mingled easily, keeping a drink that you slowly sipped through the evening, feeling the bass pounding in your chest to mask your rushing pulse, eyes scanning the crowds as you wondered if the plan would work.

When the phone began to ring in the little purse you had bought, you knew it would.

You purposely didn't answer it, letting it ring and ring on the lowest sound volume that you could, nobody seemed to notice and you had no doubts that there were some frustrated voicemails left on there that would never be found. But you were looking for one type of individual in particular, the one that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and would feel angry that such a service had been denied to them.

A movement in the throng of bodies caught your eye and you tried hard not to light up. There they were, a man who looked older than the usual crowd of people gathered, who you had noticed getting closer to girls who looked about your age during the time you had been there. Occassionally pulling his phone up to his ear and looking around like he was searching for something. There could have been something innocent about it, perhaps he was looking for a daughter that had snuck out, or was there to pick up somebody too intoxicated to stand.

But the rage in his eyes told you different.

During the other daylight hours, you had found a quiet public library to research at whilst you snuck some snacks in to tide yourself over. You had been looking at true crime, the type of thing that was put to court with stalkers, or that made police go 'what were they doing there?'. Something about being around William Afton and remembering that night you had lured the receptionist to his untimely demise had sparked something in the back of your darkest mind. You could help him, you could make sure that whilst he was refusing to feed from you, you didn't have to live with the guilt of stealing from hospitals and blood banks.

There were people you could help that you would never see by removing certain people from the world's equation.

He was scouring for his prize, unaware of the trap that was being laid carefully for him. You pretended not to watch as he drew closer, waiting until he was practically next to you and rang the number once again, you could practically feel the testosterone pumping in what he probably considered a peak predatory body.

Oh how wrong he was.

Your fingers clutched the phone delicately as you looked at the screen and declined the call. Tipping back the last of your drink and heading towards the back door of the nightclub. His seething rage was almost hot against your back as he realised he was being purposely ignored.

He would follow, of that you were certain.

Bursting into the back alley, you paused for a deep breath before you swayed down the alleyway, pretending to have had too much to drink as you heard the door opening and closing behind you once again. Your heart was pounding much louder in your ears as you tried to focus on the end of the alleyway.

One step.

He was gaining on you.

Second step.

You could hear his heavy breathing. But you needed to keep an even pace.

Third step.

His fingers reached out to brush your hair as he managed to step in time behind you, trying to mask his footsteps.

The strangled yelp behind you and the sudden absence of presence caused you to stop and turn around.

William Afton stood in the dark, his head buried into the shoulder of the man who had followed you from the nightclub. The same man now had wide eyes and was scrambling to try and push the vampire off of him, but William simply yanked his head back and growled. You'd never seen what it looked like from the outside, but to all intents and purposes, it looke almost peacefully intimate.

Apart from the red blooming across his light coloured shirt.

It took a surprisingly long time as you kept watch, leaning against the wall of the alleyway. First came the lethargy, followed by the strength of his hands failing as he continued to try and push William away. Third, his breath became shallow and weak, his skin turning greyish-yellow. William had to wrap his hand around his chest to keep him upright as it seemed like his body was failing to keep him upright as the stranger's head slowly nodded forwards, or rather, rolled. Eyes unfocused and glassy, staring into you, or rather through you as the light flickered out.

Part of you felt sick with yourself that you had let another human being die in front of you.

Another part was quietly content, like a faint hum in the back of your ears that didn't quite sound like anything.

William dropped the corpse onto the ground, his face and beard smeared with blood as he took a moment to focus. His body was shaking with adrenaline, pupils blown out as he tried to reign in the impulse to go after you next. He was not used to living bodies next to him after he had finished, and the man you had lured had been filled with adrenaline and rage. Vampires always got doses of the hormones and chemicals that their victims had when they were fed upon, some got a rush out of it. But Afton didn't want to hurt you.

You looked so pretty, standing there in that dress in the low light, red neon highlighting you from behind.

He stalked towards you, making your heart race slightly as he looked so predatory in that moment that whatever feelings you had developed towards him were temporarily overridden by that primal fear.

His large, calloused hands settled on your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest and looking down at you. Not noticing how he smeared crimson against the sequins and fabric, incriminating you, marking you in a dead man's blood.

"You play a very fucking dangerous game." He growled, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you placed your hands against his chest, feeling the warmth through the tshirt he had worn.

"I wanted to surprise you." He tilted his head at your answer, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, betraying his serious expression.

"Surprise me? You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse, stupid little bunny." He brought his head closer, nuzzling into your neck and breathing deep, feeling himself nipping and licking at your skin. "What if another of my kind had found you?"

"Then I would have tried to hold onto until you could come."

"What if I had to turn you to save you?"

"William, I've just lured somebody to their death for you. I'm not...It feels strange still, but I figured that this was the best way. I could get used to it." Your breath was shakey as William hummed against you before gently cradling your head and sucking on the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Making you gasp as you held onto him.

"You're a good girl, do you know that bunny? You're my good girl." He whispered, licking up your neck before nipping at your ear, feeling his stubble scratch against you. You felt like you were on fire, that you would burn up if you didn't do something."

William silence any thoughts you may have had as he cupped your chin with his forefinger and thumb, kissing you softly. Surprisingly so. But your lips moved against his after only a moment of pause, he tasted like iron. But there was something under it, something spiced and heady that made your head feel like it was spinning as he ran his tongue against your lip and asked to deepen it. Allowing him to do so as he grabbed you tighter to him. Everything about the movement was slow and sensual, a side you didn't know William Afton had, it made your knees weak and you clung onto him like he was your only life-line.

After too short a time, he parted from you. Leaving bloody saliva trailing between you as he cupped your face adoringly, searching your eyes before chuckling darkly.

"Oh you can taste him, can't you, bunny? You're still experiencing side effects from my blood. Don't worry little one, I don't plan on being greedy tonight." Chuckling as he reached into your bag and pulled out the burner phone, sending off a rapid fire text as he hugged you to his side.

"That's...him?"

"Oh yes...hmm..I wonder if I can get you to understand why you drive me so fucking crazy. What a rare little opportunity my dumb little bunny might get to taste herseld twice." Throwing the phone into a nearby dumpster, he guided you towards the darker end of the alleyway, away from the nightlife and crowds.

"William?"

"Don't you get it sweetheart? I'm going to eat you in more than one way tonight, and I want you to see how you drive me feral." Growling playfully, he pulled you in against him again in a kiss. Nipping at your lip and making you flinch as the blood pearled up on your skin, watching the vampire lick his teeth as he held onto you tightly.

"You're mine. And only mine, sweet little thing." He whispered, kissing the top of your head as you passed dark windows where his reflection didn't show.