#robin's just going through a lot right now okay? and it's not going to get any better

[gothamite-rambler]

Damian meets Swamp Thing

Context: This is based on one of the canon's but I do like this one the most. Absorbing the memories of the dead person you think you are has always been a fascinating trope. Plus Damian wanting to help out villains he finds interesting is just heroic and sweet thing for him to do.

Alec (Swamp Thing): Hey, little dude. Awesome to meet a new Robin! I really love the representation. We need more diversity in the Bat League.

Batman: I have heroes of other races—wait, I’m going to stop there before I say something inappropriate.

Damian, dressed in his Robin suit, chuckled at his father's embarrassment.

Alec: It’s cool, Batman. I get you. You’re a cool hero, and you seem to take care of these kids. Ivy really likes one of them a lot.

Batman: I’m painfully aware of that.

Alec: I was thrown off by it too. Back to the little dude—Robin, I love this suit. Rock on, little dude!

Damian smiled, his head down. Batman cleared his throat to remind the young Robin to focus on why they were there. Robin nodded, preparing to speak.

Damian: Mr. Swamp Thing—

Alec (in a chill tone): You can call me Alec. Swamp Thing is what my enemies call me.

Damian (slightly surprised): Oh, so we're not enemies?

Alec: Nah, you’re friends with Ivy's girlfriend, and she’s pretty chill. Ivy seriously needed that kind of positive vibe.

Damian nodded with a prideful smile, then glanced at his father, subtly rubbing in that another villain liked him. Batman rolled his eyes and waved a hand for his son to hurry up.

Damian (to Alec): I agree, sir. This conversation is going well, and I hope not to offend you, but I was curious about one thing: Are you a former human turned into a swamp creature, or a sentient plant that has absorbed all of Alec's memories?

Damian placed his hands behind his back, waiting for an answer, while Batman heaved a heavy sigh, too embarrassed to speak.

Batman (to himself): I would've gotten to the point already.

Alec (surprised): Oh… wow. I haven’t been asked that in a long, long time.

Damian: Is it okay if I ask? Batman said it was wildly inappropriate and you'd "go berserk" if I asked that, and then I wouldn’t be able to ask any further questions. Right, Batman?!

Damian looked up at his father, who remained silent, covering his eyes in frustration and holding his head down.

Damian: I think that means yes. My apologies, Alec, I’m a curious child. I love to learn about criminals or former criminals such as yourself. I'm not going to judge you or anything.

Alec: You're okay, little Robin. I accepted what I am a long time ago. I couldn’t deal with humans, though; that’s why I live here, surrounded by the swampy foliage—meditating and stuff like that. My 'birth' is odd, to say the least. I’m a hundred percent plant, but I absorbed most of the original Alec's memories. The poor guy died in the explosion that created me, and his body sank deep into a swampy marsh. After going through an existential crisis, I searched for him and buried his body in a better spot.

Damian: Oh... that's quite the bittersweet origin story. It’s reassuring to see you’ve had good personal growth since then.

Batman (chiming in, exasperated tone): Robin, he killed so many people and almost created plant zombies.

Damian: And you invite Red Hood over for Thanksgiving; you have no room to talk.

Alec laughed, then sighed with a smile.

Alec: Yeah, don’t worry; I’m not doing anything evil anymore. I did some goon work for a few years and worked with Ivy, but I’m retired now. I enjoy spending my days chillaxing here, keeping my zen in check. Gotta make sure to avoid toxic outlets, you know?

Damian: I do. I'm not giving up my iPhone, but I get it. I'm glad you've reached that level of enlightenment; you can reject my offer. Thing is, I helped out Mr. Freeze and was wondering if you needed any assistance?

Alec smiled and shook his head.

Alec: While I appreciate you wanting to help, I'm good.

Damian: Hm, are you sure? I can do a lot, especially with my dad's money. Batman knows my dad; he can help, right, Batman?!

Batman (deadpan): Trust me, when I talk to your father, you’re going to be so grounded.

Damian (chuckling): Worth it.

Alec (crossing his arms): How about this? If I do need something from you guys, you'll be the first I contact.

Damian: That works. Here’s a phone to make it easier to reach me. It’s solar-powered, so there’s no need to charge it like a regular cell phone. It’s waterproof and gets reception in this bayou. My number is on there, along with Ivy's, Harley's, and Batman's.

Batman (angry): I told you not to involve me in this!

Damian (gritting his teeth): You know my rich father, so you're helping!

Batman: Okay, fine. I’m going to the car, and we’re having a talk when we drive home.

Batman walked off as Damian handed the phone to Alec. Alec took it with a genuine smile, surprised.

Alec: I have to say, I’m not too into these cell phones. They’re bad for the environment and the mind. But this seems like a pretty simple touchscreen. Thanks, kid.

Damian gave a thumbs up.

Damian: It’s what heroes do. All right, Batman is ready to go. See you around, Alec.

Damian put up the hood on his suit and walked off as Alec opened a music app on the phone.

Alec (smiling): Huh, the kid's not that bad.

[snowangeldotmp3]

mrs. click's class, october 1983... with a little bit of a twist.

[brown-little-robin]

I need to sleep for 70 hours and then maybe I'll feel not evil again

[nightingale-prompts]

How to Raise Your BatBoy

First | Previous | Next

Dick sighed into his cup of coffee. This is not what he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. That and the giant bat wing covering his face this morning.

Danny was getting bigger. Not physically but his bat features are changing. The teen was getting better at changing shape. His ears are sharper ending in slight points, his fingers are more clawlike, and he has grown a thick ringed collar of white fur around his neck. Thankfully that's as far as his transformation can go right now. Danny has learned to pick and choose what traits he wants.

Danny has claimed Dick's gymnastic equipment as his. The aerial equipment is now used as roosts for Danny to hang off of and nap. But that hasn't stopped him from sleeping on top of Dick like an overgrown cat.

Bat wings expel a lot of heat as blood circulates through the thin skin which cools the blood in hot environments that they are native to. So to regulate their temperature they rest together to conserve heat. That's probably why Danny decided to grow the fur collar and sleep on top of Dick.

And why is Dick so frustrated? Because he's fighting for his goddamn life in this house. His cute aggression is barely contained. He wants to squish the kid's cheeks and ruffle his hair all the time.

Dick would be going over case files while Danny watches tv on the floor and Dick will feel the insatiable NEED to go bother him.

That damn fuzzy neck fur calls to him like a cat picking up a kitten.

Danny chirps! He fucking chirps! Like a baby bird!

Dick is trying so hard to be normal but if you had an adorable and clingy batboy you'd do the same.

Dick wants to tell the world about his batboy.

And he does. When he's Nightwing he will not shut up about how much he adores his sidekick. God forbid Robin is visiting, Dick will cry while taking hundreds of pictures of them together.

Damian doesn't like Batboy at all. At least that's what he says. He's just jealous that Batboy has bat wings. Damian warms up to him after they go out gliding together and get to study his wings.

It however goes downhill when they go on a misadventure and Batboy took a bite out of Scarecrow. Batboy had an immunity to fear toxins, instead, it overstimulated him. He ended up lounging at Scarecrow when he taunted Damian as the boy was paralyzed by the gas. When Damian was able to get back on his feet he found Batboy sobbing with his mouth covered in blood.

"Im sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to-" His wings shielded him from sight.

Scarecrow was alive but the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck and the claw marks were not doing him any favors. The bite seemed to render him immobile at least for now. A symptom of a bat bite was paralysis.

Damian notified the others. Bruce and Dick got there first. Both adults were thankful they were okay but there was a disagreement.

"Nightwing you don't even know what the boy is. He could have killed Scarecrow. We don't know what he's capable of yet. He lost control." Batman stated firmly looking at the blood-stained teen that clung to Nightwing.

"He was protecting Damian. He didn't want to do that." Nightwing pulled Batboy behind him.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted to do. What will you do if he loses control and actually kills someone next time?" Bruce crossed his arms.

"All of us are capable of losing control and killing. I did it and you never came down on me like this. You are a hypocrite. You think he's a monster because he's not human." Nightwing was not going to let Batman point a finger at his son like this. He killed Joker once and he had don it out of rage and hate, not even to protect someone else.

"What I'm saying is that he isnt human. We don't don't know how he can be affected. We don't know his weaknesses. What if someone else figures out what fear toxin does to him and turns him into a weapon? Will his guilt be enough to stop him or will it destroy him? Do you want him to become like Man-Bat? Do you want to put your son in danger?" Batman didn't give in to Nightwing's taunt and stated his view firmly.

"We're leaving." Nightwing picked up the shrinking Batboy and made his escape but not before hugging Robin goodbye.

Nightwing had to move quickly. He could feel Danny getting smaller with every step.

This happened sometimes. Danny would sometimes retreat inwards when he was stressed. He changed to become as vulnerable as he felt.

When they got home Danny looked to be just 3 years old.

"Its okay baby bat. Not one is going to hurt you. I promised remember?" Dick held the chind aginst his chest.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Danny said between gasping breaths trying not to cry. His small wings wrapped around Dick's shoulders

"No, its not. You did the right thing no matter what Batman says. I'm proud of you."Dick said stroking Danny's black-streaked white locks.

(*Does a silly jig*)

[clockwayswrites]

The bitties must cuddle. ""Birdtritch"" Part 5

masterpost

“Nightwing!” Tim shouted, leaning forward on his perch.

Nothing.

Then a black and blue stripped hand poked out of the green feathers in a thumbs up. “I’m okay!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nightwing,” Hood grumbled as he stalked forward. “Hey bird brain! Let go of my brother.”

“Aww, he called me brother,” Nightwing cooed over the line.

“…maybe you can keep him after all,” Hood said to the bird thing that had leaned down to peer at him.

The green glint of the bird thing’s eyes reflected off of Hood’s helmet. Then it blinked and in that moment dozens of abstracted cyan eyes blinked into existence around Hood.

Hood reached out to poke at one with the muzzle of his gun. It went right through the ‘eye’. “What the fuck…?”

The bird thing trilled back at Hood.

Tim tapped his comm to open the all channels line. “Um, so, we have… an eldritch bird creature that has been exposed to cuddle pollen. It’s is already cuddling Nightwing and… yep, yeah, now it has Red Hood. Don’t shoot it, Hood! It’s friendly!”

“It’s a fucking menace!”

“A bird?” Robin’s voice piped up.

“Don’t get too excited, baby bat, eldritch bird. It’s the size of an SUV and has too many arms. And eyes. Sorta eyes? And yep, there goes Hood, absorbed by the fluff. Oh great, it’s looking at me now.”

“Avoid the entity, Red Robin,” Batman said across the comms, tone clipped and worried.

“Sorta hard to do, big B. It has a lot of legs right now and all eyes on me. There so many eyes.”

“Avoid the entity!” Batman barked again.

Yeah, like that was going to go well.

-

“Father! Make this creature unhand me at once!” Robin shouted.

“Calm the fuck down, it’s not hurting us,” Red Hood grumbled. “Not that it’s letting us go…”

“Actually pretty comfortable,” Red Robin said in a voice tinged with the edges of sleep. Bruce couldn’t even see a part of Red Robin in the mess of feathers.

Bruce just sighed and pinched his nose. “Boys.”

“Did you just ‘boys’ us?” Nightwing asked, though he sounded like he was enjoying the whole circumstance.

“Yes. Black Bat isn’t involved in this at all,” Bruce said. “So, boys.”

Black Bat’s soft laugh over the line was mostly drowned out by the warble that the bird entity made. Bruce absently started comparing the creature to the types of birds that roosted in Gotham as the surprisingly long neck unfolded and reached out towards him.

He regarded the bird entity steadily.

It warbled again, tilted its head, and then started preening the ears of the cowl.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“Likes you.” Cass’ lyrical words came over the line. Bruce knew that tone. She was taking pictures for blackmail.

(And everyone said girls were easier.)

“I really don’t think it’s going to let us go, B. It might not even be able to with the cuddle pollen,” Nightwing said. Bruce could see the blue tips of the boots now but nothing else.

Bruce hummed. “Gotham doesn’t have the facilities to humanely keep such a creature.”

Robin hit the ground in a crouch and started forward. “Father—”

The bird entity reached out again for Robin with one of its too many limbs. Robin parried with his sheathed blade. The coo that the entity made in response was heart wrenching. Almost instantly Robin deflated at the sound.

He crossed his arms and looked away with a huff. “Fine.”

With a much happier sound, Robin was grabbed carefully around the waist and placed on the bird entity’s back, right behind its next.

“Get off,” Red Robin grumbled from wherever he was in the mass of plumage. Some shifting along the back feathers followed the sleepy words. Then a yawn. “The Cave is the only choice.”

“You can’t be serious,” Red Hood said.

(Bruce thought Red Hood might be clasped firmly under a wing.)

Red Robin yawned again. “Large, secure, safe for us…”

“Yeah, and how the fuck do we get this thing to the Cave?” Red Hood snapped back.

After a considering silence, Black Bat pipped up with that same mischievous lilt. “Idea.”

[mxtantrights]

Four times Red hood blushed because of you, and one time Jason Todd blushed.

The first time it happens you don’t notice. How could you when he wears that mask on his face all the time? It’s the two of you on a rooftop. You just raided a warehouse filled with scarecrows fear gas and made sure it didn’t land in the wrong hands.

You were coming off a high. That’s why you offered to get a bite to eat with Red. Red. That’s what you call him because you two are coworkers. You get the job done and have a few laughs, and part ways.

When he hands you a taco in silence you thank him in a stupidly wild accent that can't be real. And he chuckles. You hear it. You know you do, but you can't believe it. You made the Red Hood laugh!

It felt good. You wanted to make him laugh again.

What you didn't know was that he actually found it so cute. And was blushing underneath is mask.

2. The second time is an incredibly inappropriate time. The league had called on you to help them with an investigation. Which you were kind of feaking out about but trying to be cool.

You couldn't really be cool when Superman literally said your vigilante name out loud. You tried your hardest but you couldn't contain your excitement. You turned to Red hood and jumped up and down as soon as the meeting was over.

He laughed and told you yo calm down. But you started yapping about how Superman was the first hero you looked up to and how much of an honor it is that he knew who you were and acknowledged you.

Red Hood tells you that you remind him of the Robin that used to love Wonder Woman. Which makes you laugh and agree that that Robin knew what he was doing because he's right.

3. The third time is completely by accident. You're going down the zip line trying to get across from one building to another. And Red is waiting for you on the other side. It was your first time.

You scream the entire way as the speed picks up. Then before you know it, it's over. It's over and you're on top of another building but you can't quite find your footing. So you go crashing into the only thing there in front of you, which is Red.

He grabs you by the waist as the bath for you go down. You land with a groan. He cradles your fall entirely.

When you let out a breath and pick yourself up a bit, you're really close to his mask. The closest you've been to him since the two of you met.

He clears his throat and asks if you're okay. To which you nod, you're not about to go use your words when you know your tongue is heavy and you don't even know the alphabet. Red is tough and lean underneath you. You're aren't sure what you were expecting.

You pull yourself up quickly and offer him a hand to get up. He takes it and once again the two of you come face to face. Or, mask to mask. If he could see you now, fully he would see how hard you are flushing.

4. The forth time is rightfully earned. You just closed a case all on your own. No help from anyone. You did the investigation, you did the recon. And you got the perps into the hands of those who would deliver justice.

It was a pretty blood scene so you're a bit covered in it. Your suit is laden with blood stains and it got over some of your mask and face. You thought it would be better idea to shower in one of the safe houses rather than drag all the evidence back into your own home.

Red was there, cleaning his weapons like he usually does. And you walked in with all of that on you. It's like something in him just kickstarted. He looked at you, took you in, and all he could say was 'Hi'.

You gave him wave and told him you were going to shower the night off you.

As soon as you get into the bathroom, Jason smacks himself in the forehead.

5. It was a normal day. It was laundry day. You had a lot of shit to wash because honestly both your jobs keep you busy and you weren't about to send your things off to the cleaners.

You're in the local laundromat in great sweats and a blue hoodie. Your headphones are over your ears as you read through some threads online about Red. Not the ones trying to dissect his identity. The ones that are giving him credit for cleaning up the city.

So you're distracted when someone taps on your shoulder. You don't scare easily, and you know that if you're in trouble you can handle things. You turn around to see who it is and what they want.

A tall guy with a tuft of white hair amidst his dark brown hair. And his arms are practically poking out of his muscle tee. You haven't had a decent date in a while. A while being like a year now.

You remove your headphones.

"Can I help you?" you ask.

He nods, "Yeah, I'm sorry but I think you might have taken a piece of clothing into your dryer?"

He points over to the dryer. And there in the tumbling wad of clothes you try to decipher which piece of clothing is not yours. You can see a jacket you don't own. And a shirt that doesn't have any graphics on it, which means it's not yours.

Your eyes widen, "Wait seriously? I'm so sorry."

"Don't sweat it, I just wanted to know if I could pay you back sometime?" he asks.

You look at him then. Tall. Hot. Does his own laundry. Gotham is a cesspool but this guy is probably one of the good ones. Why not?

"Yeah?" you ask.

He looks away from you then for a second. His hand coming behind him to scratch as it his neck. And you see it. A very faint but still present blush dusts across his cheeks and down his neck.

a/n: based on this comment I got on a post! I hope he's bbg enough for you!!

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the Street Kids

Billy likes helping people. Especially people who have, and are still going through something he’s also experienced. Hunger, brokeness, homelessness, if you’ve had to go through any of those things, Billy’s probably going to favor you more than most of the other people he’s saved. I mean, after all, he knows what all of that feels like. It’s why he helps out around soup kitchens a lot. It’s why he donates a hefty bit of his paycheck to homeless shelters and charities. It’s why he works to keep drugs off the streets, and crime at a low. He doesn’t want anyone, man, woman, or child to experience what he has. So, here’s a couple instances where he’s helping some homeless kids we know. (Btw this is the same AU as the Billy and the Robins post. In that post, basically Billy knew Dick and Jason when the two were both Robins) Roy: *in Speedy costume* “Hey Robin, who do you go to whenever you need advice?”

Robin!Jason: *in Robin costume* “Batman, why?”

Roy: “Right, cool. Cool, but what if you can’t ask him a certain question?”

Robin!Jason: “Oh, then I go to Marvel!”

Roy: “Marvel? Like Captain Marvel?”

Robin!Jason: “Yeah!”

Roy: “Huh. Uh… okay then.”

Robin!Jason: “Why do you ask?”

Roy: “No reason.”

Then, a little bit after Oliver kicked Roy out, Marvel was in Star City because Green Arrow needed him for whatever. As of now, Roy was walking down the street, upset because obviously. It’s been an about three days since he was kicked out by someone he considered his dad. All because he had a wee little problem with painkillers, and wee little problem with heroin. You’re supposed to help people who’re addicted. Especially if they’re family. You don’t just kick them out… right?

Roy: *walking down the sidewalk*

Marvel: *flying when he sees him*

Roy: *not paying attention*

Marvel: *flies down in front of him*

Roy: *bumps into Marvel* “Hey, watch where you’re goooo…wha…?” *slowly looks up until he’s craning his neck to look up at him*

Marvel: “Aren’t you GA’s boy?” *looks confused* “What’re you doing out this late?”

Roy: “What?”

Marvel: “Yeah! You’re uh…” *snaps fingers a couple times, thinking* “Speedy. Right?”

Roy: “Do I know you…?” *looks Marvel up in down*

Marvel: “Oh, my bad.” *holds hand out for handshake* “I’m Captain Marvel. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

Roy: *doesn’t shake hand* “Well you already know me. I’m Speedy.” *shrugs*

They both talk. Marvel gets Roy to open up a bit after he gets the kid a hotdog. While they’re both sitting on a bench eating their respective hotdogs, (I saw the Marvel in civvies post and he’s wearing that exact fit. He magicked up the red sweater, the yellow hat, and the jeans so they could eat in peace) the archer remembers his conversation with Jason. So, he decides he might as well bite the bullet since his friend hyped up the guy so much.

Roy: “Hey… I gotta ask something.”

Marvel: “Hm?” *mid chew*

Roy: “You wouldn’t happen to know any good struggle meals, would you?”

Marvel: *finishes hotdog* “Yeah? I do. You wanna learn some?”

Roy: *hasn’t told Marvel about him being homeless now* “Yeah.” *takes bite of his hotdog*

Marvel: “Okie doki then.”

Roy: “You aren’t gonna ask why?”

Marvel: “It’s not really my place. Unless you want me to ask?”

Roy: “Nah, not really.” *finishes his hotdog*

Marvel: “Then I won’t.” *stands up* “Alright! To the nearest Chuck E. Cheese!” *points in a random direction*

Roy: *also stands up, raising a brow at him. Moves Marvel’s arm in the correct direction* “Why are we going to a Chuck E. Cheese?”

Marvel: “You’ll see. Cmon!” *starts jogging in the direction Roy corrected him to*

Roy: “Dude, wait up!”

When they’re now outside the Chuck E. Cheese…

Marvel: “Alright. So, here’s what you’re gon— Are you good?”

Roy: *out of breath because they just ran about three blocks* “Yeah… Yeah. I’m good. Just uh— gimme a sec.”

Marvel: *gives him until he feels better*

Roy: *looking better now* “So, what were you saying?”

Marvel: “Right, so what you’re gonna be doing is, see those tables?” *gestures to the booths through the Chuck E. Cheese’s windows. Some booths have leftover pizza and chicken wings in them*

Roy: *nods head*

Marvel: “Okay, great. So you’re gonna go steal all of that.”

Roy: *blinks at him before the most befuddled, bamboozled, puzzled expression crosses his face* “What?”

Marvel: “You’re going. To steal. All of that.” *gestures to the tables again*

Roy: *looks between Marvel and the tables* “Dude, I am not stealing scraps from the fucking Chuck E. Cheese tables.”

Marvel: “How else do you expect to get food then?”

Roy: “I don’t know! I expected you to teach me some cheap recipes or something stupid like that!”

Marvel: “Oooooooh, so you don't want struggle meals then.”

Roy: “No, I do. A struggle meal is something like a ketchup sandwich. This is way worse than a goddamn struggle meal.”

Marvel: “You and I clearly have different definitions of a struggle meal, but okay. Also, chill with the cursing, man. I can teach you something cheap if that’s what you actually want.”

Roy: “Okay then, thank you, because the day I need to steal scraps from a Chuck E. Cheese, is the day I lose my dignity.”

Marvel: “Yeah, yeah, come on. Let’s just go to a grocery store.”

Then, there was Cassandra Cain. She was homeless for about nine years before she went to Gotham when she was seventeen. During her homelessness, she never really stayed in one place. One of the places she ended up in was Fawcett when she was about sixteen. There, she met Captain Marvel. She man saved her from a mugging she was about to take care of herself.

Marvel: *staring at her because Solomon’s whispering about how she’s worthy*

Cassandra: *staring right back, picking up confusion in the man’s body language*

Marvel: “What’s your name, miss?”

Cassandra: *stares blankly at him* (Guys, this is before she learned most stuff. So she has no idea what he’s saying and has to go off of body language alone.)

Marvel: *stares back* “Can… You not speak?”

Cassandra: *continues to stare blankly*

Marvel: *sighs* “I’ll take that as a no.” *reaches into pocket dimension*

Cassandra: *startled when she sees half the man’s arm disappear*

Marvel: *pulls out some money and puts it in one of her hands* “Please take this. I can tell you don’t have a home. Starving isn’t fun.”

Cassandra: *sees understanding in Marvel’s body language and looks at the money in her hand then back at Marvel*

Marvel: *hovering off the ground* “Stay safe, miss.” *gives her a little wave before flying off*

Cassandra: *watches him go*

They meet more times after that, and soon, Cassandra ends up being one of the many homeless kids he checks up on. Cassandra comes to enjoy the man’s presence, and Marvel comes to enjoy hers as well. She eventually gets a really good read on the man after a while and he gets a good read on her. She even mimicked the man’s bodily expressions sometimes with a nod here, or a shrug there. Marvel even got to learn her name after she gestured to one of the other kids who had a cast on their leg. He guessed a couple times before he got her actual name. They ended up having to charade it, Beetlejuice style.

Marvel: “Cassie?”

Cassandra: *makes a so-so motion with her hand* (something she picked up from the man) *makes a motion that was supposed to convey it was longer*

Marvel: “Longer…?” *pauses to think for a solid 20 seconds* “Cassandra?”

Cassandra: *gives him a thumbs up* (another gesture learned from him)

Marvel: “Wait that’s actually your name?” *body language shows he’s happy he got it right*

Cassandra: *blankly stares* (Again guys, she has no clue what he’s saying)

Marvel: “Oh, this is awesome!” *body language shows he gets happier. He starts yapping about stuff*

Cassandra: *listens even though it’s all gibberish to her*

Cass liked that she could depend on someone. The man was… sunny. That’s the best way to put it. She liked listening to him talk. He never expected an answer or response. She liked that. She also liked that when she did try to respond, he was patient and did his best to try and understand her. Their friendship (sort of father daughter thing) continued until she was almost seventeen, and soon, things came to an end.

Marvel: “You’re leaving?” *body language shows concern*

Cassandra: *saw him look to the backpack stuffed with things for the trip to the next town. she nods her head*

Marvel: *body language shows disappointment for a moment before acceptance* “I see.” *gives her a warm smile* “It was nice knowing you, Cassandra.” *gives her same little wave he gave her when they first met* “I hope we get to meet again.”

Cassandra: *waves back unlike the first time they met and leaves*

They actually met again, unbeknownst to Marvel, when he was in Gotham to help Bruce with something. They got paired up together to go and do something for the mission.

Marvel: “You know, you remind me of this girl I knew from a while ago.”

Cassandra: *silence and a stare because she knows he’s talking about herself*

Marvel: “Yeah, she would’ve done that same blank stare too.”

Cassandra: *wondering how he knows she’s pulling the same face as herself*

Some goons decided to interrupt them before she could figure that out.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

   Eddie —

   I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

   You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

   I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

   I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

   Sorry,

   Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off. 

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye. 

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display. 

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time. 

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

PART 18

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown Part 6

Masterpost

Danny, after many promises and assurances, lets Red Robin take him to the batcave. They travel by car, and as fancy as it was, Danny was almost scared to touch anything inside it. Red was a much better driver than his father though, so he just closed his eyes and focused on trying to keep his healing up.

The Batcave turned out to be an actual cave, underground, with actual bats in it. He was whisked to a medical area too quickly to see much of anything else besides some other vehicles and a giant computer set up. 

Someone was waiting in the medical space with a tray of tools and bandages ready next to the bed, Red introduced him as Agent A. They were quick to lie him down on a cot and set him up to a heart monitor and that had Red and the A frowning immediately.

“It’s a medical condition.” Danny blurted, and both pairs of eyes shot to him. “My heartrate is naturally very slow, temperature runs cold, pale skin, slow circulation so I can't have a lot of different medications." Not that any medications would really work, but better safe than sorry. Them not working would be suspicious, and Danny does not have the energy or focus for trying to keep straight any real explanations right now.  "It’s fine, I promise.”

Agent A nodded slowly. “Is there anything else we should know before we start treatment?”

“Just can't give me any medicines, I think that's the only relevant bit.”

“Alright, I will keep that in mind. Please lift your shirt so I can see the wound.”

Danny does, and they manage their expressions quite well on seeing it. Agent A goes immediately for creams and bandages.

“What burned you like that?” Red asked.

“Gun.” Danny was starting to slur. He did not want to sleep right now, with these people here.

“A gun? What kind of gun causes burns?”

“New blaster, parents made it special.”

“Your parents make guns?”

Danny shrugs, turning his head to look at Red instead of the far off ceiling of the cave. “My parents make lots of things. They're scientists, inventors." Danny waves his arm around vaguely. "The gun was new though, hadn’t been shot with that one before. The earlier versions were much less powerful.”

“Are you saying that your parents are the ones that shot you?” Red asked gently, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t just their gun that was used?”

Danny frowns. “Well yeah.”

Tim is very concerned at the tone he just used, like getting shot at by your parents was normal. “Do they shoot at you a lot?”

“Fair amount I suppose.” Red could see Danny thinking really hard about something. Dany’s head was really starting to hurt. His brain was fuzzy and he knew he should be concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what. His parents shooting at him was nothing new, considering. “Like, they did it more than Vlad but I don’t see him as often, and they’ve done it longer than the GIW, but since the GIW has started they’ve been about equal I guess. I mean, sometimes all the defense systems in the house target me but that wasn’t technically intentional. Took forever for us to figure out how to get them to stop that.”

“Danny, when was the last time you slept?” Red asked gently.

Danny wasn’t sure if his blip earlier this morning counted. He didn’t think it lasted more than an hour, but the last time he slept before that was before his fight in Amity, escaping through the ghost zone and running around in this dimension.

“It’s been awhile.” Danny landed on. True enough for medical history he supposed.

“Right.” A finished the last of the bandages and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. “Well, why don’t you do that now, while we go and find you something to eat.”

“I’m too tired to fight food right now.”

Tim shared a look with Alfred before turning back to Danny. “Okay then. Maybe sleep first and then eat?”

“I will go start making something now that you’re all set up here Mister Danny.” Agent A states, walking past the medical curtains and shutting them behind him. Red pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it. He noticed Danny’s eyes on him after a moment.

“You going to sleep?”

“Strange place, strange people. Not sure that’s the best decision here.”

Red looked up from his tablet.

“You trusted me enough to come here. Trust me enough to sleep. I will make sure no one but me or A comes in before you’re ready.”

[louloulemons-posts]

Drunk Snuggles

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie gets a little drunk at a party and wants to cuddle his girlfriend.

Word Count : 1.7K

Warnings : mentions of alcohol, Eddie getting a little sad, it’s angsty for like a second, major fluff, fluffy Eds, none sexual nakedness, use of Y/N, pet names, not proof read.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Laughing as you spoke to Robin, you could feel the music thumping around the room. You were at a house party, it wasn’t something you did a lot but you felt like it.

“I think our peace is going to be disturbed,” Robin said, motioning to somewhere behind you. Turning you saw your other friend Steve Harrington, he looked flushed in his face.

When he reached you he spoke, “You need to come deal with your boy, he’s something else with booze in his system.”

“Where is he?” You asked.

“The garden, I left him on a lounger.”

You nodded and headed through the crowd of dancing bodies to get to the back door. It was much quieter out there, not many people. A few were smoking and others making out.

The curly haired boy lay on a lounger, staring up at the sky. An almost empty bottle of beer loosely hanging from his hand. Making your way to him you could only smile.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, to not make him jump. Hearing your voice he shot up, “Hey!” Attempting to stand and make his way to you, he cackled as he wobbly, nearly falling flat on his face.

You quickly grabbed him, ensuring that he stayed up right. “Careful Eds,” you said, holding him by the waist. Giving you a goofy grin, he sighed, “You’re so beautiful, where did you go?”

“Just talking to Robin babe, I did tell you.”

“Yeah but you were gone agessss,” he whined, lips falling into a pout. “20 minutes isn’t ages.”

“It is, my favourite girl left me for 20 whole minutes, that’s like … a million seconds!”

“A million?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Well I’m back now.”

“Yeah,” he smiled again, hugging you tightly.

You hadn’t seen Eddie get drunk too many times, but on the few occasions you did, you noticed he became a lot more touchy than usual.

“Love you so much,” he slurred.

“I love you too.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling away to look at your face. “Yeah, I love you.” He laughed, shyly hiding his face, in your neck.

“What’s funny?” You asked.

“The prettiest girl in the whole of Hawkins .. in the whole world … the whole universe! Loves me, Eddie Munson. Who’d have thought,” he rambled on.

“How much have you had to drink pretty one?”

“Just a couple.”

“Mhm. Sure you did. Should’ve kept an eye on you.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me?” He asked, eyes almost teary when he looked at you.

“Oh no,” you said, softly stroking his face, “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Mhm, I was. But then you left me! Then Steve said he’d find you, tell you to come and see me if I promised to stay on the lounger.”

“And here I am,” you smiled.

“Mhm! You found me!”

“Course I did, can’t lose my favourite boy can I?”

“I’m your favourite boy?” He asked, tilting his head like a puppy. “Yeah baby, you’re my favourite person.”

His face flushed at that, gosh he was so cute. “Could we maybe go home now though?” He asked.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah I just-” he mumbled something into your neck.

You laughed, “Pretty one I can’t hear you when you talk there, tell me what you said.”

“I wanna … go home and cuddle.”

“You wanna cuddle?”

“So bad,” he said softly, head resting on your shoulder.

“We can do that, let’s go say goodbye and then I’ll drive us home.”

“Home?”

“The trailer Eds.”

“It’s your home?”

“Wherever you are is my home Eddie.”

He looked like he was about to burst into tears, but instead he held the sides of your face and planted a kiss on your mouth. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too baby.”

You unwinded your arms from his waist and took his hand, “Lets go say bye then.” Walking back into the party you saw your friends.

They waved at you as you made your way over, a stumbling Eddie behind you. “Careful,” you said, to which he just laughed.

You hugged Nancy, Steve, Robin and Jonathan goodbye. Making sure they all had ways to get home safe, feeling Eddie almost tugging you towards the door.

“Good luck with him tonight Y/L/N,” Steve said. “Thanks Harrington, see you guys later.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

When you arrived at the car, you helped Eddie in as he had turned into bambi on ice. No idea how to control his long limbs. “Steady babe, mind your head,” you said, placing your hand on his curls and he got into your car.

He pulled his legs in and sighed as he leaned back against the leather seat. Leaning over to do his seatbelt, he pecked your cheek. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Comfy?” He nodded, you smiled. Shutting the door and climbing to your side, repeating the same actions as Eddie had done, you began your drive to Eddies.

The car was quiet, only the rumbling of the engine making a sound. Whilst you changed gears you felt another hand on yours, Eddie linking your fingers. “You okay?”

“Miss you.”

“Sweet boy I’m right here,” you chuckled.

“Not close enough.”

“Well we can be close and cuddle as soon as we get in and ready for bed okay?”

“Mhm. How longs it gonna take?”

“‘Bout 5 minutes Eds.”

Letting out an audible whine, you looked over at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Too long.”

“You’ll be okay. You’ve got my hand and we can talk.”

“What about?”

“Anything.”

He let out a sigh, thinking of something to say. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, go for it babe.”

“Why me?”

“Why you what?” You furrowed your brows, not understanding what he meant.

“Why would you want to be with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re kind, and funny, and a great friend. I love spending time with you. You make me happy, and laugh so much. You’re a beautiful souls Eddie.”

You heard him sniffle. Pulling into the trailer park, Eddie hadn’t spoke since your little speech. “Here we go Pretty one, we’re home.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Turning off the car and climbing out you walked round to help Eddie, finding him tearing up. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, stroking his face.

“You just said … such nice things!” He cried out, “ so nice and I just love you and you love me and it’s just nice.”

“Oh baby, come on let’s get in. You need some cuddles huh?”

He nodded, rubbing his face and taking your hands to get out the car. Locking it, you walked into the trailer. Wayne was lay on the couch watching a show.

“Hey kids how was the party?” He asked.

“It was good we had fun,” you smiled at the older man. “Good I’m glad, have you eaten?” He questioned.

“Baby,” Eddie whined in your ear, arms wrapping around you from behind. “Yeah, there were snacks and stuff so we’re good. Thank you though.” He hummed at you.

“I assume he’s drunk a bit?” Nodding to Eddie. “Yeah, I’m gonna get him to bed.”

“Call if you need anything Sweetheart.”

“Will do. Say night Eds.”

“Night Pops.”

“Night Son, don’t give her any trouble.”

“Would never!”

You laughed, “Come on Pretty one let’s go to bed.”

“For cuddles?”

“Mhm cuddles, let’s go.” Eddie dragged you to his room, throwing the door open. Falling over his bed to turn on his lamp.

“Be careful!” You said, shutting the door behind you. “‘M okay.”

“Come on, let’s get changed.” You went to his draws grabbing some plaid pants, handing them to him.

Taking out one of his old shirts and some shorts for yourself, you went to him. “You want some help?” You asked.

“Please.”

“Okay Sweet Boy, shoes first, can you take your rings off for me?”

“‘Mkay.”

Undoing his laces and pulling his shoes from his feet, you placed them by his others, sliding off your own. “Done it,” he said, passing you his many rings, you placed them on the top of his dresser, yours once again being placed next to them.

“Okay jacket and shirt next,” you helped him get his arms out and his head out of his shirt, throwing them to the washing bin in his room. “Want a shirt? Or just bottoms?”

“Bottoms.”

“Okay pretty one, let’s get you out of your jeans then.”

You undid his belt as his hands didn’t want to listen to his head, along with the button and zipper. Sliding them off his legs, “Want to keep your underwear on?”

“No.”

“Can I do it?”

“Mhm. Never have to ask.”

“That’s sweet babe, but I do. Let’s get em off.” You’d seen Eddie naked plenty of times, not always in a sexual manor, well actually it was less sexual that it was sweet moments.

You’d shower together just because, washing each others hair sweetly, you’d lay together, bare just to be close. He liked skin on skin you’d learned. Comforted him.

“Can you put these on so I can get changed?” You asked.

“Mhm.” He quietly took the pants off you and began to slide his feet in. Sliding off you jacket and top you slid into his. Doing the same with your own jeans, getting into your shorts.

Placing them in the hamper, you opened another draw, pulling out some wipes. You cleaned your face off in front of the mirror. Looking in it you saw Eddie watching you, now in his pyjamas.

“Beautiful,” he said.

“Hm?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” He flushed again, dropping onto the bed and chuckling into his hands. You couldn’t help but grin, wiping off any remaining mascara and threw the wipe into the trash.

“Come on then let’s cuddle.” Shuffling up the bed, you both climbed under the blanket. Turing off the light, Eddie rested his head on your chest, wild curls everywhere. “You want me to tie it up?” You asked.

“Can you play with it?” Sleep evident in his voice.

“Sure thing.” Fingers running through his curls, his arm wrapped around your face and he snuggled into your chest. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Pretty, now get some sleep.”

“‘Mkay.”

Kissing the top of his head, he hummed, soon drifting off into dreamland. You following behind not far after, the sound of Wayne’s show playing quietly filling the darkness.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[laundrybiscuits]

The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”

Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”

The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner. 

“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”

“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”

Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?

He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?” 

“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”

“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt. 

He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”

“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”

“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip. 

“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”

Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”

“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”

“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”

“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”

“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.” 

“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel. 

There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”

“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know. 

He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.

(ETA: small continuation here!)

[stevieschrodinger]

for @brazenliar

Part One Two Three

tw; childbirth

Eddie’s never moved this fast in his life; keys, phone, wallet, one quick mouthful of now cold chicken off his dinner plate, jacket, crocs off, sneakers on and he’s out the door.

Eddie carries Steve’s bag and the car seat, the towel rolled up under his arm, while Steve waddles along besides him.

He has to stop occasionally to take some deep breaths, obviously in pain, but it doesn’t take that long to get to the van. Eddie sets the towel on the passenger seat, rolling his eyes as Steve insist on it. Once he’s settled, Steve calls Robin and explains the new plan. Chrissy’s on her way apparently, so it shouldn’t be too long.

Eddie’s never been a nervous driver. Eddie’s never been in an accident that was his fault. He got rear ended one time and the bumper fell off, but that was about it. But now; this journey? Eddie’s driving like there’s a very full jug of gravy strapped into the passenger seat.

It’s a huge relief when they make it to the hospital. Eddie just throws the van into one of the spots out front; he’s not sure if he’s even allowed to park there but, honestly, fuck it. If he gets a fine he gets a fine.

Steve’s taking some awfully deep breaths and white knuckling his seatbelt strap, but otherwise seems okay. Just scents a little nervous mostly, a little scared, but Eddie can’t really blame him for that at all.

Once Eddie carefully wrangles Steve out of the van, he realizes Steve was absolutely right because, to be fair, Steve has left a fair old mark on the towel, so maybe Eddie will let him off for insisting.

Eddie leaves the carseat, figuring he can grab that in a bit – it leaves him a free hand for Steve to hold on to while they walk – and waddle – into the hospital.

They get directed to wait until a nurse can come down with a wheel chair, but in a sharp and really, really uncharacteristic show of temper, Steve snaps at the lady behind the desk that ‘he can walk, thank you very much. He is in labor, he is not incapable!’ And for the first time ever, Eddie scents the spicy scent of Steve's irritation.

She looks at Steve dubiously, but directs them in the right direction. Eddie is incredibly relieved that a nurse with a wheelchair meets them half way anyway, Steve still refuses to sit in it, so she follows along just in case she’s needed.

She seems really nice, from what Eddie can tell, and when Eddie looks over at her, she mouths a clear, ���don’t worry,’ with a smile on her face, so Eddie figures this is all cool or normal or whatever.

Especially since Eddie has not a fucking clue what to expect here.

They make it to a set of doors with a keypad; the nurse lets them in. It makes a lot of sense, and gets rid of a worry Eddie didn’t even know he had; Steve’s going to be safe here. This bit of the hospital is extra secure for Steve and the pup.

“Eddie,” Steve stops walking, “there’s something-” and then Steve makes an unholy noise, doubling over as yet more bloody liquid gushes out of him. It’s like when the elevator doors open in the shining. Or that bit at the end of Carrie.

No it isn’t. It isn’t anywhere near that bad, it just looks like it is since there looks like there’s a lot of it and the fact that it's coming out of Steve probably makes it look worse than it really is.

Steve’s sneakers are going to be fucked, Eddie thinks absently, while having his hand near as damn snapped in half. There’s a nurse there with some sort of absorbent padding, thin blue plastic on one side, and white diamond pattern of white padding on the other, “don’t worry, we got you.”

Steve starts to list to the side, Eddie drops the overnight bag to come in front, Steve flailing and grabbing Eddie’s other hand as he pants his way through something that looks pretty fucking painful from a spectators point of view.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, I have to have a look.”

“Need the chair?” Nurse number one asks.

“Nope, way too late for that, he’s crowning,” and then suddenly a lot happens all at once. There’s another nurse there suddenly, gloved up and wearing an apron. Steve drags Eddie down with him as he sinks to his knees.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, you’re going to feel the urge to push on your contraction, you go ahead and do that when it feels right.”

Steve’s clawing at Eddie, his hands move for purchase on Eddie’s shoulders, “Eddie, I don’t want to have my baby in the fucking hallway,” he pants, face buried against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Uhm, not sure we can stop it,” Eddie says really really unhelpfully, right as Steve growls out a sound Eddie didn’t even know Omega’s could even make.

Eddie's forced to have his chin hooked over Steve's shoulder due to their positions, and that means Eddie's looking straight down Steve's back; he has front row seats for what happens next.

The nurses are all talking to each other, and they're all pretty calm, like this is a normal day at the office, except for when one of them shouts for something...and then there’s a baby. it just sort of slips free of Steve's body, like a magic trick, Steve making another one of those noises right in Eddie's ear.

The pup is crying and one of the nurses says, “is that a new record?”

A different one replies, “nah, there was that lady who only made it into the lobby.”

Eddie stares in wonder. And also, a bit in horror. It’s a boy, very definitely a boy, in fact. Eddie’s instinct is that Steve’s just given birth to an Alpha. One who’s covered in gack and blood, and he’s waving his arms and legs around like he doesn’t know what to do with all the space he’s suddenly got. He’s kind of covered in whitish slime, and he has got a lot of hair. Like a lot.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with his lungs.

“Are they okay? Eddie, please- is-”

“Yeah,” Eddie comes back to earth with a bump, Steve whispering in his ear, Eddie watches the nurse tie off and cut the umbilical, “yeah he’s absolutely fine Steve.”

“He?” Steve sobs against Eddie’s neck.

Eddie watches as a nurse kind of randomly sticks her fingers in the babies mouth, and then they’re taking him away and Eddie is not at all fucking happy about that but is distracted again by a nurse.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, once more and you’re done.”

For a split second, Eddie thinks Steve’s having twins, but then he finds out the placenta is a whole other thing that needs to happen.

Every day’s a school day.

Eddie’s kneeling on a hallway floor, taking half of Steve’s weight, and Steve’s just had a pup. Steve snuffles at Eddie’s neck, and Eddie is flooded with a bone deep certainty that he is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“Eddie, I have to get up.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.”

Eddie helps, making it half way before wheelchair nurse is back, and Eddie helps Steve, really gingerly and a little awkward, settle into the chair.

“Where is he?”

“They’re just cleaning him up, lets get you onto a bed and he’ll be there.”

Steve just...strips in front of Eddie. Eddie catches stretchmarks and then the curve of Steve’s ass as he climbs into bed, and then, true to their word, swaddled in a hospital blanket, the baby is half unwrapped so that they are skin to skin, and deposited onto Steve’s chest, “seven pound four,” she tells Steve.

She waits, making sure Steve doesn’t have any problems with the baby ‘latching’ – which Eddie works out is the proper word for the little guy getting on Steve’s nip – and then she goes to get Steve some water and pain relief.

Eddie just stands there, next to the bed, quietly amazed. It’s like the whole world just shifted a little to the left; this tiny thing suckling at Steve’s rounded chest is just...suddenly the most precious thing in the world. Steve's got a fair bit of chest hair for an Omega; Eddie cannot stop staring at where the tiny pups fingers are gripping at it as he suckles.

“Steve,” Steve looks up, he looks tired, and a little washed out, but so fucking happy, “congratulations.”

Steve smiles, “thanks Eddie.”

“So what are you going to name him?”

Steve’s had a drink, some pain meds, and been inspected by a doctor. Eddie was aloud to sit in the arm chair and hold the little pup while Steve got checked out and...he didn’t cry, but it was close. The scent of pup seems to have already ingrained itself on Eddie’s soul.

He’s asleep now, and neither of them can stop staring at him, they talk in whispers.

“I don't know, I thought I’d just...see them and know, somehow.”

Eddie hums, thinking. “How about Ronnie James?”

“Uh hu. And who is that?”

“Ronnie James Dio Steve, only the greatest musical talent of all time.”

Steve sighs, “I like James.”

“Yeah?”

“Jamie, yeah, James Robin Harrington, what do you think?”

“I mean...I’m kind of biased but yeah. Yeah I like it.”

“Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod Steve.”

“Hey, Robbie.”

Robin comes into the room slowly, and Eddie can tell she’s barely holding back, “I missed it. Oh I’m so sorry I missed it I-”

“Hey it’s okay, honestly it happened so fast I nearly missed it.”

They keep chatting, Robin apologizing and then, crying. And then Steve starts crying. And Robins saying she’s so proud and they’re scenting each other and Robin's scenting the pup and then they’re crying again and Steve’s telling her the name and then that’s a whole thing because Robin didn’t know about the middle name, apparently-

A blonde beta female has sidled up to Eddie, “I’m Chrissy, Eddie, right?”

“Yeah, nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah same and...this,” she vaguely indicates where Robin and Steve are now, cuddled on the bed with the pup, “we just have to let this happen, you want to grab a coffee?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave, he wants to climb into bed with his mate and his pup and never leave them, but he also recognizes that instinct for what it is; batshit. “I’d fucking love one.”

Part Five

[loveinhawkins]

It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.

He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.

So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.

Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”

He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.

Eddie screams.

Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.

He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.

Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”

And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.

And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.

“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”

“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”

“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”

And…

Well. That’s a development.

“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”

And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”

Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.

Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”

Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”

“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”

“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.

“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”

Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”

Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.

Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.

Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”

And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.

Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.

“Your lips are blue.”

“I’m f-fine.”

A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.

“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.

He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.

But instead—

“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.

Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.

“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.

Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”

“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”

Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.

“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”

“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.

There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…

Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.

At least, he would if he could stand up.

When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”

His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.

“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.

“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.

“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.

“Is—is Eddie—?”

“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.

And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.

For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.

But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.

He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.

[stevie-petey]

moron

I own you.  The words practically drip from your rose coated lips, meant only for Steve, and he knows he’s lost.  “Yeah, whatever.” And it’s agreed. Come this Saturday, you and Steve will be working together. No one else, just the two of you, for eight long, maddening hours. 

Summary: steve really hates his coworker, but you know who he hates even more ? your shitty ex boyfriend (who he just so happens to share jacket preferences with)

Rating: general, violence, lots of swearing

Warnings: allusions to abuse, use of bitch as derogatory language towards women, shitty ex boyfriend, violence, enemies to lovers (more friends), fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 3.9k

Before you swing in: hey gang !! long time no stevie blurb, so here yall go <3 please, read the warnings for this one. theres a really shitty character in this and he may be triggering, so please be safe.

-

Steve doesn’t consider himself a bad guy.

Sure, he had the whole “King Steve” stint back in high school where he was an asshole to everyone, but he chooses to ignore those four years of his life. They were a brief lapse of judgment. 

A very long, brief lapse of judgment. But whatever.

The point is that Steve opens the door for strangers. He greets everyone with a smile and a polite nod of his head. When Robin forgets her lunch at work, Steve always gives her his. He walks his neighbor’s dog, he offers to carry groceries for the elderly. Hell, he even waves at babies. 

By all accounts, Steve would consider himself a goddamn saint. 

Except when it comes to you. 

Steve isn’t holding open any fucking doors for you and if you ever asked him to walk your dog, he’d laugh in your face. The moment you stepped foot in Family Video for your first shift, you made Steve’s life a living hell. He doesn’t know why or how you manage to dig so deep under his skin, but he’s convinced you do it on purpose. 

The movies you stack on the shelf always somehow manage to land on Steve’s head. The jokes you make with Robin are always at his expense. You never clock in on time, extending his shift by one more minute every goddamn time. The way you laugh pierces Steve’s skull, the sound rings in his ears and blinds his senses long enough to feel nauseous. 

Steve likes everyone, he isn’t a hard guy to please, but he truly, deeply, hates you. 

“Y/N wanted me to ask if you’d cover her shift this weekend,” Robin scans a beat up copy of Grease, trying to feign indifference as she brings the topic up. She absolutely doesn’t want to be doing this, she knows that any mention of you to Steve makes his eye twitch, but you called her crying and Robin is far too sympathetic for her own good. 

Predictably, Steve’s eye twitches and he snatches the movie from his coworker. “What, did she fall and hit her head this morning?” He scoffs, he can’t believe you even thought he’d consider the idea. “She knows I’d rather her show up with a broken arm and matching black eye to work before ever covering her shift.”

“Okay, that’s psychotically cruel. You know that, right?” Robin scans another movie and shakes her head. Steve hates you, she gets that, and while she doesn’t understand why, she also doesn’t like how much of an asshole he is about it. You’re her friend, too. Robin really likes you. 

“Good, I meant for it to be.”

“Steve, she’s going through a hard time right now–”

“No, I don’t wanna hear it, alright? I don’t care if her grandma died and left her an orphan,” the sound of the bell above Family Video’s front door rings, but Steve is too lost in his rant to hear it. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever, ever helping that demonic witch of a human being.”

Robin’s eyes widen and she tries to cover the teen’s mouth, hissing his name, but Steve bats her hand away and keeps going. “Y/N is a fucking moron for thinking otherwise, and that’s her problem. I mean, I know she’s your friend, which I still don’t know how she even managed to do that, but–”

“Steve!” Again Robin tries to get her friend to stop talking, but Steve is on a roll now. He’s fired up, tired of biting his tongue for the last six months. 

“She makes me want to physically tear my skin off and shove it down my throat every time she opens her mouth. And I’m being nice right now. I mean, I will gladly say this all to her tiny, annoying face–”

“Oh, you would?”

Immediately Steve’s voice dies and his words fall down upon his shoulders. He doesn’t dare turn around. He’s frozen. He’s convinced himself that if he doesn’t move then he can linger in the remaining few seconds where he hasn’t just said all those horrendous things with you standing right behind him. 

Robin drops her head onto the counter and groans. “You’re an idiot, Harrington.”

“Well, are you going to turn around?” Your breath almost fans Steve’s neck, you’ve walked up to him. He can practically envision the curl in your eyebrows whenever you get angry. An expression Steve has become familiar with. 

He gulps, still refusing to turn around. “You know, I really don’t think I can turn around.” His legs shake. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever fucked up this horribly before, and he’s fucked up a lot in his life. 

“Robin,” you turn your attention to her, the edge in your voice is the only indication of your anger. “Please inform our coworker that it’s inappropriate to use that language in a workplace, and please also inform him that I will no longer be needing him to cover my shift.”

“You… Don’t?” Robin looks between you and Steve. He still hasn’t looked at you yet, his face stares straight as if he’s trying to somehow disintegrate. You, however, face her with a steely look in your eyes, which surprises her. She thought there’d be more heartbreak in them. “I-I mean, are you sure? All things considered…”

“I’m fine.” The way you say it leaves no room for arguments. It’s already been decided, and Robin knows not to try and reason with you. She deflates, and you’re pleased with this. Even though her sympathy is unneeded, you can use it to your advantage. You’re going to make Steve pay. “In fact, I think you should inform our coworker that he’s covering your shift this weekend.”

Robin chokes on her spit, startled, while Steve finally turns to face you. “I’m sorry?”

“Aw, it’s okay, Harrington.” You pat his chest, albeit with more force than probably necessary, which he huffs at. “But I think the apology will work even better after spending some quality time together.”

You’re going to spend the entire eight hour shift making Steve’s life hell on earth. And he knows it.

“But–” 

“Say, Robin. What’s the company policy on harassment of employees?” You tap your finger against your chin with a menacing smile on your face. You’re enjoying this, and Steve hates you even more for that. “Doesn’t it say something about verbal insults?”

Steve sends the girl a pleading glance, begging her not to respond, but she can only shake her head at him. He’s the one who couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. Sighing, Robin nods. “Yeah, it does.”

“I thought it did! Thanks, Buckley.” You wink at her before facing Steve again. He almost flinches at the coldness in your eyes. He’s so, so fucked. “Harrington, I’m sure you simply forgot, and I’m sure I can let bygones be bygones after you cover our dear friend’s shift. Yeah?”

I own you. 

The words practically drip from your rose coated lips, meant only for Steve, and he knows he’s lost. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

And it’s agreed. Come this Saturday, you and Steve will be working together. No one else, just the two of you, for eight long, maddening hours. 

–

When Steve arrives at work Saturday, you’ve already clocked in. 

He finds you sitting at the cash register, looking over the shipment for tomorrow. Sundays are the restock days, and the lists of orders are a pain in the ass to get through. It can take hours, sometimes even days, to comb through. When you see Steve walk in, you give him an icy smile. “Oh, perfect timing!” 

“We’re supposed to get here at eight.”

“And being early never hurt anyone.” Although you’re never early, you’re always late, and both of you know this. You scratch something off from the list, eyes never leaving Steve, and he can’t help but feel that the rough scratch of the pen is meant to symbolize his face. 

“What do you want?” Steve is too tired to play your games. He recognizes that he was a grade A asshole to you a few days ago, but this is going too far. 

You flick your hair behind your shoulder and straighten your posture. The gesture casts a cloud of a sickly sweet pomegranate scent over to Steve, causing him to sneeze violently. He’s always hated the perfume you wear. Smiling at the desired effect, you finally shove the restock lists towards him. “I need you to start sorting through next week’s orders.”

Steve looks at the lists and nearly cries. There’s at least thirty pages in the stack, doubled sided, with five columns and fifty rows. This is the largest shipment order he’s ever seen since working at Family Video, he can’t even believe it’s real.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope!” You hop down from the counter and walk over to the cart of returned movies. “Now, I’d get started if I were you. You know how much Keith hates it when we don’t get Sunday’s orders in on time.”

Your figure disappears behind a shelf of movies and Steve pretends to strangle you with his bare hands. You planned this. He doesn’t know how, but you did. If he didn’t have a reason to hate you so much, now he does. 

Hours pass by, you don’t at all speak to Steve as he labors over the shipments. Family Video requires the employees to manually input all the orders into the computer to send to the supply chain. The process alone is impractical and takes longer than it should, but pair that with the shitty computers that Keith refuses to upgrade, it makes Steve contemplate running into the road. The browser crashes three separate times. At one point he loses track of which movie he’d been on and has to restart an entire row at number forty-three.

It’s the worst fucking five hours of Steve’s entire life.

Meanwhile, all you do those five hours is browse through some online catalog on the other computer and help a total of two customers who come in. 

By the time Steve has finally finished inputting everything, words float around his vision and he can feel the beginning stages of a headache forming. The pressure sits right behind his left eye, dull and throbbing. 

All because he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut.

Steve should really learn to listen to Robin. 

“Are you all done?” You materialize next to Steve, startling him and he lets out an embarrassing shriek, which you snicker at. “Wow, Harrington. You’re really tense today.”

He rolls his eyes and steps away from you. “Gee, I wonder why.”

“Yeah, who knows!” Steve glares at you and you smile right back at him. “Anyways, since you finished up so fast, why don’t you sort through the backorders next? It shouldn’t take you that long.”

The backorders. 

Steve wants to fucking scream.

The backorders are all the movies that the store can’t input into the system. They’re orders that get messed up, misplaced, and abandoned in Keith’s disgusting office. The pile of discarded movies has grown so large that it rivals Steve’s height and build. It’s its own entity at this point. A terrifying, breakdown inducing entity. 

You’re a fucking evil genius. 

But if Steve even looks at the backorders, he thinks he might actually murder you. 

“No,” he crosses his arms, trying to look more dignified and intimidating than he really feels. Awkwardly placing his weight on his left foot, he purposely ducks his head down to emphasize how much taller he is than you. “No way in hell am I going through the backorders.”

“I wonder what Keith would say when I tell him all the wonderful things you said about me on Wednesday,” you step forward, angling your head up to get a better look at Steve. You want him to see all the hatred you have for him in your eyes. 

What he said about you hurt. There’s no other way to put it. His words had been venom upon your skin, searing the flesh as it left a nasty scar. The wound has festered ever since, making your already shitty week even worse. 

Steve had called you “fucking moron”. Just like he had. 

“Oh, screw company policy and whatever that asshole Keith says!” Steve doesn’t care anymore if he has a job by the end of today. He’s had enough of your shitty mind games and power plays. He may have been a dick, but he doesn’t deserve any of this, either. The strenuous labor and migraines. “I’m done, alright? You’re being such a–”

“Bitch?” A gruff voice chuckles, interrupting. Steve, surprised to hear another male voice in the store, quickly turns around. 

The guy is tall, taller than Steve. That’s the first thing he notices. Then he notices the cold blue of his eyes and the way your entire body freezes in fear when you see him. Steve moves your body behind his, unconsciously putting you out of harm’s way, protecting you from whoever the hell this guy is in front of him. It’s instinctual, he doesn’t hesitate.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is, calling you a bitch?

“I would never call her that,” Steve squares his shoulders, putting ice into his words as he does so. He wouldn’t. He was going to call you a child. Steve would never call a woman a bitch, his mother raised him better than that and Robin would hit him if he ever did.

The guy laughs again. “You sure about that, buddy?”

“Jack,” Steve almost doesn’t hear you, you’re barely audible. He’s never heard your voice so soft before, so weak and scared; he decides he never, ever wants to be the cause of this voice. “You can’t be here.”

“Says who? I don’t see anybody kickin’ me out.” The guy, Jack, shrugs indifferently. He stuffs his hands into his jacket, it’s made of a nice, suede material that Steve is ashamed to admit he’d wear himself. “I wanted to see you, sweetheart.”

Jack tries to step closer to you, but Steve blocks him. “Funny, I thought she was a bitch?”

“Bitch, sweetheart, easy fuck, fucking moron.” Jack laughs, only this time it’s cruel. “It’s all the same when it comes to Y/N.”

Fucking moron.

Steve had said the same about you. A heavy weight of shame crushes his chest. He should’ve never called you such a cruel name. He knows that, now. 

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” Steve sneers, hand now coming around your arm as if terrified Jack will pull you away from him. “What the hell is your problem, man?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business? This is a conversation between me and the sweetheart over here.” Jack tries to reach for you again, but Steve shoves the guy away. He stumbles back, a wicked smile on his face. “Oh, the pretty boy can fight?”

“Steve,” You finally speak again, trying to shove yourself between the two men. The room grows hot and you don’t want anyone getting hurt. Not here, not with Steve. “Just leave it alone, walk away–”

Only Jack grabs your arm and viciously pulls, causing a pained yelp to escape you. A nerve pinches in your shoulder, he sends your body flying forward. His grip is harsh, it will leave bruises tomorrow, and you’re weak against him. Fear chokes you, he always does this.

“Don’t touch her.” Steve’s fist collides with Jack’s face, starbursts of pain explode in his wrist but he doesn’t care. All he sees is red now. Jack hurt you. He caused you to cry out in pain. Steve punches him again, the sound of pain you made rings in his ears, turns his blood cold and his anger boiling hot. 

Jack recovers from the punches quickly and he raises his fist, but you try to get him away from Steve. “Stop!” 

The fist comes down, you brace for impact, helpless against it, but the sound of skin hitting skin is all you’re met with. You open your eyes, Jack’s fist is in Steve’s palm. Stunned, Jack is too slow to pull away before Steve wraps his arm around his and twists it behind his back. The muscles strain, the ligament cries in pain as Jack’s arm is pulled dangerously far back. 

“Fuck!” Jack screams, contorting his body desperately to get out of the death lock he’s in. 

“You’re going to leave,” Steve hisses into his ear, “and you’re going to never, ever come back. If you even look at Y/N again I swear,” he mercilessly pulls even harder on Jack’s arm, the bone threatens to snap, but he doesn’t care. “I will break every bone in your fucking body.”

And with that, Steve finally releases Jack, who crashes pathetically to the ground. The moment he’s freed, he scrambles to his feet and cradles his sprained arm. He’s panting, no longer the confident and arrogant asshole he once was when he walked into Family Video ten minutes prior.

“Fuck you,” Jack spits out at Steve, but he’s already walking backwards towards the door to leave. “That bitch isn’t worth it, anyways.”

The door slams closed. 

Silence fills the void that the violence left behind. 

Steve shakes out his wrist, wringing out the pain from the punches. His knuckles are red, raw, bruising with every passing second. He brings the injured hand closer to inspect it, wincing at the inflamed skin. 

“You’re hurt.”

Your eyes linger on the blood that leaks from his knuckles. The skin has split, but the pain that the nerve endings scream over soothes Steve. He shakes his hand out again as he shakes his head at you. “I’m fine.”

But you don’t believe him.

Carefully, slowly, you bring your uninjured hand over Steve’s injured one. Your touch is gentle, hesitant. The pads of your fingers skim over the bruising that litters Steve’s skin. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, no.” Steve pulls his hand away, he doesn’t like what the image of his injury is doing to you. He’s not used to your tenderness, the sympathy you blanket him with. Besides, he isn’t the only one who got hurt. Steve instead brings your hand up, holding your wrist delicately as he sucks in a breath seeing the bruises Jack left. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You don’t say anything. 

Steve kisses the damaged skin, he feels you shiver beneath his lips. He isn’t sure why he does it, he just knows that he wishes he could physically remove the burn of the bruises from your memory. 

Minutes pass, the silence is all that is spoken. 

Eventually the two of you get back to work. There’s still two more hours before either of you can leave, even if the thought of staying in the store suffocates you. No other customers come in. It’s just you and Steve, matching bruises to keep you guys company. 

When four in the afternoon comes along, Steve clocks both of you out and locks the store up. He doesn’t let you do a single thing. He insists on having you sit by the window as he finishes the last restock orders and closes the door. His hand softly guides you outside, lingering on your waist as he locks the store’s doors for the night. 

“Alright, well…” Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t know what else to say to you. “Guess I’ll just, you know, leave–”

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

His breath catches. You stare up at him, eyes wide with fear and vulnerability and despair. “I…”

“Please,” you can’t walk home alone. Not tonight. Not after everything that happened today. “I just…”

Without saying anything, Steve’s hand finds yours, and he walks you to his car. He opens the door for you, closes it softly behind you once you get in. He gets into his own seat, turns the radio on and fiddles with the stations until he finds the one he knows you like. Every time you have a shift together, you play the same station and sing along to all your favorite songs.

It used to drive Steve insane.

Now he’s relieved he can do this one thing for you.

The drive is quiet. The only conversation that is made is mumbled directions to your house. It isn’t a far drive, but Steve takes his time anyways. He doesn’t know if you have anyone to go home to, he knows you haven’t stopped shaking quite yet. 

“Turn here,” your voice is hoarse from lack of use.

Steve listens, turns into a neighborhood he’s unfamiliar with. He thinks he’s nearing your home and he isn’t ready to let you go just yet. He knows you have to talk about what happened today. The bruises on his knuckles will fade, but the memory of Jack’s cruel words won’t. 

“So,” He clears his throat. He’s doing the right thing, he knows he is. “Jack. He was…?”

You’re quiet for several moments and Steve is afraid he’s ruined everything, pushed you too far, but eventually you respond. “Ex boyfriend. Broke up a week ago. He didn’t take it well.”

“I hate him.”

Despite the fatigue that weighs upon you and the dread that Jack will come back, you can’t help but laugh at what Steve has said. “Yeah, I guess I do, too.”

Silence falls again. Steve pulls into your driveway, he turns the car off, the headlights die, but neither one of you move. 

“You’re not, you know.”

You finally face Steve, confused as to what he’s referencing. “What?”

“You’re not a ‘fucking moron’. And you’re definitely not a bitch.” He clarifies, eyes meeting yours. You’re almost breathless by how brightly they shine with remorse. You’ve never known a man who felt such an emotion. “Jack is a dick, and so was I.”

“Steve…”

He doesn’t let you pity him. He knows what he did was wrong, the words that fell from his mouth about you will haunt him forever. Steve may not have liked you, but he didn’t have any right to say those things about you. “I really am sorry, Y/N.” 

There’s nothing to forgive.

Steve isn’t Jack. You know that, now. 

“It’s okay. I think I made you go through enough today, anyways.” You nudge his shoulder with yours, risking physical affection just this once. “First the restock orders and then defending my honor? I think we’re even.”

“I was pretty heroic, wasn’t I?” Steve tries to laugh, play along, but it’s bitter on his tongue. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forgive himself for how much he hurt you. 

Noticing his darkened expression, you poke Steve’s cheek. “Hey, you’re not allowed to brood. I’m the one whose crazy ex showed up at work today.” But it doesn’t work, he doesn’t laugh and you know he blames himself for everything. “Look at me, Steve.”

Night has fallen and the honey brown in Steve’s eyes resembles darkened ash. You place your hand on his, careful not to disturb his bruises. “I forgive you, but if you insist on being such an annoying jerk about it, then you can make it up to me by being my friend.”

“Your friend?” Steve doesn’t pull his hand away from yours, and it’s a start. 

“Yup, think you can handle that?” 

“‘Friends’,” he lets the word roll over his tongue. Tests it out, gets a feel for what it would be like to call you his friend. He thinks he likes the way it feels, the weight that accompanies it is one that settles his chest, soothes his wounds. “I guess I can be okay with that.”

He smiles at you, then, and you smile back.

You’re beautiful when you smile; warm, angelic.  

Steve doesn’t consider himself a bad guy, but by all accounts, he considers you a goddamn saint. 

-

⌑ writing masterlist

⌑ please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. i adore hearing from you guys :)

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 11

“Robin can’t stay here like that again,” Jason said as he chopped up a cucumber. “If he wants to come back, we need to introduce them properly and Danny needs to be okay with it."

“I know,” Dick sighed. “He’s been getting better but him not listening to B when in cape is a real backslide.”

“That’s not…” Jason made a frustrated noise and put the knife down with a level of care that worried Dick. That worry grew when Jason purposefully stepped back from it to lean against the counter.

“Hood?”

“Kid knew that Robin was here,” Jason said, glaring down the faint leftover ring from a cup of last night’s hot chocolate. “Wing, Danny knew, and he was terrified.”

Dick stilled. He had just thought it was fear or someone else being in the apartment. “How?”

“Smelled him, apparently,” Jason said with a casual shrug that Dick didn’t believe for a moment. “Said that Robin reeked of death.”

“Well, fuck,” Dick said. “The Lazarus Pits?”

“Best as I can figure.”

Best as Jason could figure, but Jason was still bothered by something— something that wasn’t how Damian smelled to Danny.

Dick reached out to still Jason’s hand from where it was picking at the dried ring of coco. “Little wing… what did Danny say?”

It said a lot that Jason didn’t pull away.

“He was terrified because Robin smelled like death but hadn’t died.” Jason looked up to meet Dick’s eyes. A ring of green circled the blue. “He hadn’t died, not like us.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh fuck,” Dick said again. That was the sort of statement that deserved more cussing. He got up and started to pace. “Did you…?”

Jason shook his head. “No. Wasn’t the time, Danny was too freaked out about Robin’s presence. But fuck, Wing, the way he said it… like I should have already known that about him.”

“Like he knows it about you.”

“Yeah. Since he can smell it or sense it or whatever,” Jason said. He ran his hands through his hair, spreading the streak of white throughout the dark locks.

Dick’s eyes stuck on the movement.

“Wing?”

“You’re hair.”

“Who cares if I mess it up—”

“No, J— little wing, your white hair. Danny…” Dick swallowed around the taste of bile. “We know he should have black hair, but it’s all white. Jay, how many times did he die? How many times did they kill him?”

Jason pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, looking ill. “Fuck. Fuck!”

“Okay, it’s okay,” Dick said, immediately regretting upsetting Jason like that. He hated hurting his little brother, but Dick did need someone else on the same page as him. He needed someone else watching out for things. “We’ll get the story when Danny is ready. What matters right now is that he’s here and we’ll keep him safe.”

“We sure as fuck will,” Jason said, a growl rumbling under his voice.

“But we have to wait until he’s ready.”

“Yeah, got you.” Jason leaned back against the wall. His head thumped against it with a sound that made Dick wince.

“But I do think you’ll be the one he talks to,” Dick soothed.

Jason snorted. “Cause the dead stick together.”

“You’re not dead, Jaybird, and neither is Danny.”

“And we’ll keep him safe,” Jason echoed with a sigh.

Dick didn’t have any illusions that Jason’s version of keeping Danny safe wouldn’t include murder if it came to it, but Dick was sure he could play distraction for Bruce, Cass, and Duke if need be. Damian should be kept away too, he had been doing better. Dick groaned and gave in to laying his head down on the counter.

“What horrible thing did you realize now?” Jason asked.

“Just that I’ll need to go see the baby bat. We need to talk about last night and I should just spend more time with him and the other kids.”

“Yeah, that might be good. You should get some damn sleep too before you start trying to subsist on sugar. Don’t think I didn’t see that cereal you had B.B. buy,” Jason chastised.

“I thought Danny might like it!”

“Danny would have a sugar high for three days if he ate a spoonful,” Jason said and went back to chopping up the very healthy cucumber he had.

“Fine, then what are you making?”

“A quick pickle. We’ll have it with feta cheese and couscous. It will be good protein for Danny since we don’t have him eating meat yet,” Jason said.

Dick smiled back. “You know, if you ever get tired of stabbing people with knives, you could just become a personal chef.”

“Why, looking to hire one and solve your horrible eating habits? You should get a maid while you’re at it.”

“Little wing,” Dick whined, clutching at his chest. “That’s so mean! My place is looking great! You’d know that if you ever visited me.”

Jason glanced past Dick and smirked. “Kid, tell Wing he’s a liar.”

“Wing, you’re a liar,” Danny mumbled, the words broken up by a large yawn.

“It’s no fair using Danny against me while he’s still half asleep!” Dick turned away from Jason with a pout and held his arms open.

Looking far from awake, Danny basically stumbled into Dick’s arm. He rested his head against Dick’s shoulder and seemed half ready to fall back asleep right there. Dick didn’t even try to hold back a coo.

Jason snorted. “Yeah, you’re really suffering over there.”

Dick stuck his tongue at Jason before deciding to focus on his littler, cuter brother. He ran his hands through Danny’s hair, trying hard not to think about the color. “Did you have a good nap?”

Danny shrugged. “Mostly.”

“Yeah? And what does mostly mean in this case?” Dick asked.

“Just… I don’t know. Didn’t dream, not really, but sorta felt like I was close to dreaming.”

“I guess you don’t want to dream?”

“Don’t think they’ll be good,” Danny admitted, softly.

“Well, Dandelion,” Dick said, putting as much cheer into his words as he could, “if that happens you come find me or Hood or whoever’s here. Cuddling is always a good cure for nightmares and if that doesn’t work, hot chocolate is even better.”

When Danny didn’t respond, even nonverbally, Dick gave him a little poke in the side which made Danny squeak and squirm a little.

“Tell me what you’ve got rattling around in that brain of yours,” Dick prompted.

Danny heaved a sigh as he pulled away and sat on the stool next to Dick. He kept his eyes downcast, focused on the rather frayed cuff of the hoodie he had taken to almost constantly wearing. “I don’t want wake anyone else up if they’re sleeping. I know you guys haven’t been getting enough rest because of me…”

“Less than we’d like, maybe,” Jason said casually and Dick shot him a glare. They were supposed to be reassuring Danny!

“But,” Jason continued, “we’re fine with that if it means helping you get well. Besides, we’ll get B.B. over here maybe tomorrow and the big blue bird here can go check on the rest of his life for a bit.”

“But only if you’re okay with her being here,” Dick added.

“I don’t want to… you all have done so much for me already. Of course you can go deal with other things. It’s… you don’t have to pay attention to me.”

“Hey, Danny.” Dick reached out, clearly telegraphing his motions so that Danny could pull away if he wanted. When Danny didn’t even twitch, Dick rested his hand over Danny’s. “We want to. I promise you, we want to make sure you’re well and that you heal. We’ll be here the whole time until you’re ready to talk to Bruce.”

“Hell, we’ll be here after,” Jason said. “Gotham is our city, we’re not going anywhere. We’ll still be around if you need us, even if it’s just to be around us.”

Danny glanced up at at Jason with such blatant hope showing through from where it was shuttered behind hard learned lessons and a horrible life. Dick’s heart just about broke.

“Really?” It wasn’t more than a whisper that Danny asked, but it carried so much weight.

“Really,” Jason said with a shrug and that devil may care confidence that only he could manage.

“Really,” Dick added, trying to put as much care and love that he already felt for his new little brother into the word.

Danny glanced down again, but instead of going back to picking at the hem, he twisted his hand to wrap his fingers up with Dick’s.

“I… thank you. That’s… I don’t know why you all care so much when—” Danny cut himself off sharply, biting his lip so hard that Dick was worried that it would bleed.

Dick just squeezed his hand.

“Anyways,” Danny continued after a few shuddering breaths, “it means a lot, thank you.”

“Always,” Dick swore. This was their brother.

-

Damian’s brother was being annoying again.

This was hardly unusual.

“Grayson, do stop lurking like that. It is unbecoming.”

“I wasn’t lurking baby bat!” Grayson said, bouncing forward like some sort of overly cheerful ungulate.

“Tt.”

“I wasn’t! I was being polite and waiting for you to be done with your kata,” Grayson protested with a pout. “If I was being rude I would have just swept in and scooped you up.”

Damian took a step back. “Grayson, no.”

“No what?” he asked, his eyes impossibly wide and innocent.

It was best to leave, Damian decided.

Unfortunately Grayson was actually far more wolf that sheep and he pursued Damian. They tore around the Cave. Damian attempted to use his smaller stature to be able to slip through spots that should be impossible for Grayson to follow him through, but that hardly stopped his brother. What little speed Damian might have gained from his pathing was well made up for Grayson being larger and, as reluctant as Damian was to admit it, better at free running.

“There’s my baby bat!” Grayson cooed as he held Damian close after catching him.

Damian let his arms and legs dangle listlessly. He had learned that Grayson was annoying resistant to nerve strikes and that it was sometimes better to simple accept the… cuddling.

“My bitty bat! Baby bat! Bladed bloody bat!”

Damian sighed.

“We are going to go out!” Grayson said, hauling Damian towards the lift. “I found a shelter that needs some help socializing a whole bunch of cats taken from a hording situation so we’ll pick up a big food donation and head over. Afterwards, we can get falafel from that place on 8th and ice cream from a new place right down the street!”

That… didn’t sound too poor of a day, really.

“I suppose that the cats will have a better chance to be adopted if socialized quickly,” Damian said, haughtily. He couldn’t simply let Grayson know how appealing the idea was.

“Right? And you’re the best person I know for it,” Grayson said. Thankfully he set Damian down once they were in the lift and moving up towards the manor.

Damian stared at the rock on the the other side of the cage. “And… you do not need to go back to the safe house today?”

“Nope!” Grayson chirped. “I’m even going to stay at the manor tonight.”

“That is acceptable. You have informed Pennyworth?”

“Of course baby bat.”

“Very good,” Damian said. They fell into silence as they moved fully into the manor. Damian made his way for the stairs to go up and shower, but paused at the bottom. “Grayson?”

“Yeah, Dami?”

“He was afraid of me.”

Damian was thankful Grayson was astute enough not to ask who.

“He could sense you, it seems,” Grayson said. He walked over and leaned against the railing of the stairs. “Think of it from his point of view. He was asleep in what he had been told was a secure location and woke up to someone else being there. He didn’t know who, or what, you were. I’m sure you’d go on the offensive right away to find out who it was. Danny though… we know he’s been through a lot and I don’t think fighting back was an option for him.”

Damian thought back to the scars that had covered the other’s body in the first pictures. He frowned down at the steps. “Yes.”

“Right, so for him, he needed to find out who you were, just like you would, but he was scared instead of aggressive.”

“Which is why he hid behind Todd.” Damian had barely been able to catch sight of this ‘Danny’.

“Yep. Jason was one of the people who got him somewhere safe, so he trusts Jason to at least try to keep him safe. I’m sure Jay reassured him that was likely you before they came to check.”

Damian snorted.

“Hey, give Jason some credit, he knows his security stuff. He only pretends to still be bad at cellphones so he has a reason not to call.”

“Tt.”

“Don’t worry, baby bat, I’ll talk to Danny about having you come over again when everyone knows to expect you,” Grayson said with a gentleness that annoyed Damian.

“I never said I wished to go back over.”

“No?”

“No. But,” Damian said, stressing the next part, “if it is something everyone in the family is doing, then I will put up with the chore.”

“Thank you, Dami,” Grayson said. “Babs is next and then we’ll see about you! Now go change so that we can get to the shelter.”

“What exactly do you think I was doing,” Damian snapped and headed up the stairs with his head held high and a flutter of worry in his chest that he was pretending didn’t exist.

---

AN: Aaaah it was good to get back to writing this! This was my first time writing Damian's POV and he was an unexpected delight to write! His part got done very quickly. We'll have Babs up soon and Steph will need to bully her way in I'm sure. Bruce is pouting in front of the Batcomputer I'm sure, waiting for his turn to meet his son.

Anyways, stay delightful darlings!

[jinxs-gf]

Can I? (kiss the hurt away)

YJ!Conner Kent x Spider!Reader

summary: you get hurt during a mission and Conner just wants to help. this finally brings you two together.

content/warnings: set in s1, lots of wounds, blood mentioned, awkward flirting…this was a shared prompt w my two besties, here’s my version! (I switched it up a bit), funny writing bc it’s from spider!reader’s perspective (mostly)

word count: 2.1k

a/n: FIRST CONNER FIC YAYAYYAYAYAY I hope people actually read for him lmaooo…enjoy!

There's a ringing in your ear for a while, your vision blurred. Just as you come out of it there's a voice—

"You okay?"

One you're very familiar with.

You slowly blink your eyes open. You're not sure what the hell your enemy just blasted you with, but it was enough to knock you out and make everything hurt. A lot.

"Uhh I think so?" Conner watched the white eyes of your mask blink, he could tell you were in fact, not okay.

He could see it from a distance, the distance he unknowingly made while fighting. He promised himself he'd stay close at all times when the team was in danger, when you could potentially get hurt. And look at you now. His ignorance to what was going on around him got you hurt.

At least that's what he told himself.

You swat his hands as he starts fussing over you, too disoriented to think about the action. Until you see his hurt face. He was only trying to help.

But Conner thinks, you were pushing him away, and rightfully so when he's the reason you're hurt in the first place.

"No no it's-" you heave a rugged sigh, your lungs feeling heavy. "I'm just out of it. Sorry. What was that guy packing in his gun anyways?"

Conner's reluctant in his assistance to you now, but you encourage him with a smile. He lifts you to your feet, securing an arm around your waist to ensure you wouldn't fall back down. You definitely weren't in a state to be walking and that's proven when your legs wobble and all your weight falls onto him. Something he doesn't mind and in a different situation would smile at.

But you hiss as his pulls you up, and he's brought back to reality.

"Thanks Con-man." Another smile for him and his shoulders relax.

"I have no idea what that man was packing in his gun. All I know is it hurt you...really badly. You were out the rest of the fight."

"I was?" A quick look around and sure enough, you were. The quietness of the area should've been a clear sign there was no longer a battle going on.

"Looks like I was." And suddenly the team is behind you. It's a miracle the rest of them avoided getting hurt the way you did (which was a little embarrassing considering your spider senses).

"You alright, Spidey?" Wally and Artemis ask at the same time, they glare at each other for it.

"Jinx. Artemis, you owe me a soda."

"I do not-" you cut them off, ending the argument before it could start.

"Yeah I'm alright." But the way you leaned heavily onto the SuperBoy and breathed unevenly told a different story. Although that was nothing new, was it? You somehow were constantly hanging off the boy one way or another (not literally...though you wish it was).

"Are you sure? We'll have you get checked back at headquarters," Kaldur speaks. You simply nod, too weak to really do much else.

Robin was looking worriedly, trying to hide it but you could see right through him. You shot him a smile.

While the team discussed what to do with the bad guy, you stayed with Conner. There was an awkward silence until he spoke up, having enough of your small hisses and puffs at his side.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, everything? I'm hurting everywhere," you were practically mumbling, fatigue evident with every word you spoke.

He huffs and places you on the floor again, carefully avoiding any rubble from the fight. Another pained hiss from you.

"Sorry sorry, I know," he's trying to figure out his next move. "I don't know how to make it better."

You shake your head, "that's alright Conner. You don't need to, you're not a doctor or anything."

And yet he looks guilty, like your wounds and the fact that he hasn't already done something to ease the pain was his fault. He eyed the arm you've been holding around your abdomen this whole time.

"You being here right now is enough. I promise. And this," you lift your arm finally, making a soft noise of pain in between, "it'll go down by tomorrow-"

"Shit! When did that happen?" His voice startles you, the sudden noise rattling your probably concussed brain. You finally look down to see blood dripping from a scratch in your suit.

"Shit. When did that happen? How..."

"I didn't realize it was that bad. I'm sorry."

"No Conner, it's okay-"

"Can I?"

"Huh?" And Conner is gesturing to your mask, your eyes widen.

"You're breathing too heavily for it to be comfortable. Please?" He wouldn't say part of it was because he needed to see your face to comfort him.

You nod.

He doesn't freak out when he takes it off, so that's a good sign.

"How do I look?" he doesn't answer for a few seconds, he's carefully observing your face it seems. You can't help but smile.

And he smiles back, "still beautiful as ever."

"Okay lover boy," you desperately wish the mask was on, if only to hide your timid expression. "You don't need to flatter me."

Conner clears his throat quickly, awkwardly. As if he didn't realize he said it out loud.

He really didn't mean to. But seeing how shy and...dare he say happy you looked after he said it, he thinks it wasn't such a bad thing.

"You have a few scratches. But you're still-"

"Beautiful as ever, yeah yeah I heard you," maybe he wasn't going to say it again, but you weren't going to risk it. You don't think you could take it if he said it. You'd probably do something stupid like kiss him—

He swallows thickly, still embarrassed. "We need to get you back," he goes to pick you up, only this time it's not so you can stand upright. No. He's preparing to carry you bridal style. Oh no. Now you really might kiss him (that is if you don't pass out within the next few seconds). "Can I carry you? I don't think you're in good enough shape to walk right now."

"Rude."

"No I didn't mean-"

You laugh, maybe a little meanly, you knew he wasn't good on certain social cues yet, making teasing him easy, "sorry- I know what you mean. Yeah it's...alright. You can totally carry me." Now you were beginning to feel awkward.

He picks you up easily. And you're starting to agree with him, you definitely weren't in any shape to walk if him lifting you was enough to make you dizzy.

You weren't kidding yourself when you said you'd pass out before you could kiss him.

Your head lays comfortably on his chest...right over his heart which happened to be beating like crazy.

Was that your doing? You really hope so.

He carries you a little behind the rest of the team, murmuring reassurances and praise. 'You did good back there.' 'You're gonna be okay, I'll make sure of it.' 'Stay close to me okay? I'll make it better.'

Bioship took you all back to Mount Justice, M'gann talking your ear off the whole time. Starting with worried rambles about how hurt you looked and fading into a new tv show she got into. One she wished her people on Mars could enjoy.

Usually you wouldn't mind it, but you could feel an oncoming headache the whole ride. You didn't have the heart to tell her to stop nor that you weren't really listening. Not feeling bad only because Wally seemed enthralled with her storytelling (suck up) and flirted here and there.

You were too busy focusing on your shadow anyways. Aka the SuperBoy who refused to leave your side and was quite literally on you the whole way. Between him, M'gann, and Wally's flirting with her (and Robin's occasional butting in to tease) you were surprised you didn't go insane on the ride back.

When you did get back, they told you it was bad (fatal for a normal person) but nothing you couldn't handle. Just a broken rib (unfortunately common for you) and a slight concussion. Great. Accompanied with bruises and the big gash on your abdomen. That weapon really did a number on you. Conner went off on the adults for saying it was "nothing you couldn't handle" because you were "on the brink of dying". Which is a bit dramatic, but having him be so protective over you was kind of nice...or whatever.

They suggested you took a break for a week and a half (a conclusion you came to after you'd negotiated with them for a good 5 minutes. because who do they think they were benching you—for good reason—for 2 weeks?!) should a mission come up within that time.

You sighed on the couch, everyone was either in their rooms or went home for the day. They said their goodbyes and wished you well, to which you replied 'pfft I'll be better by tomorrow. just watch.' It would be really embarrassing if you weren't better by tomorrow...you unfortunately bet money on it. Stupid.

"You okay?"

"A little better now. Thanks for taking care of me."

"I wish I could've done more...I said I would but all I did was sit back and watch everyone else take care of you." This was clearly eating at him, although it's a wonder why.

Nothing about the situation was his fault nor should he feel guilty about "not doing enough."

"Conner, I told you it's alright and that you being there for me was enough. And I meant every word."

He sits with you, thigh to thigh with his head in his hands.

You pat his shoulder, "it's alright big guy. I'm okay, I'll be fully recovered soon."

"Not soon enough."

You sigh, he could be really stubborn sometimes. Frustratingly so.

"Con, please. Look at me?" He listens. And you regret asking him. You hate the look in his eyes, or rather you hate the way it makes you feel. Another case of you're going to kiss him if he keeps this up.

How could such a big, stubborn, and (apparently) non-affectionate guy have the biggest puppy eyes? Ones that have you melting.

His face is now in your palms. With the way he's looking at you, surely he wouldn't mind if you gave in and...kissed him, right?

"Can I kiss you?"

He's stunned for a moment before finally speaking up, "isn't it obvious that I want you to?"

You both share shy smiles thinking, finally.

You lean in, hands still cupping his face, his now doing the same.

Although the kiss was a little awkward, the two of you not exactly experienced in that department (him coming out of a literal tube only months ago), as well as a little...messy—it was everything you could've wanted in your first kiss with him. A kiss that was going to be the start of the two of you. SuperBoy and the Spider. You hated how warm the thought made you.

You were practically radiating giddiness, Conner could feel it. He pulled away still smiling, "I've wanted to do that for a really long time now."

"Me too. You know what also was great about that? You kissed my ouchies away. I'm all better now."

"Ouchies? What are we, five?"

There's silence, not of awkwardness, but from two of you reeling from the kiss, processing the fact that it was real.

"I don't want to be the one to break this up but...we should really get to bed. With your concussion and training being early tomorrow..."

"Yeah, of course," the giddiness hasn't left, "would you uh...want to come? With me? To bed."

"Gee Spider, at least take me to dinner first."

"Oh, so he's got jokes now?"

"Only for you, babe."

"Ew, you sound like Wally."

"Ouch? Don't insult me like that," but he doesn't look offended in the slightest. There's probably the biggest smile you've seen on his face, ever.

Safe to say it was not fun explaining why Conner was in your bed the next morning, trying to convince everyone it was purely innocent.

Batman was disappointed, reminding you that you needed to wait until you were healed before you did anything physical. Haha. Very funny.

And the team snapped pictures that they would definitely use against Conner (seeing as he was the more...emotionally constipated and reluctantly affectionate one).

But you honestly couldn't be happier. And neither could he.

does it seem a bit rushed at the end? unfortunately

do I have the patience to fix it? no

hope you enjoyed :D