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sleepyangelkami · 2 months

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PLAY PRETEND j.todd

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.1K

JASON TODD X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - jason needs someone to act as his girlfriend to the gala, which you decide to go along with but jealousy and alcohol get the better of you leading to one too many drunken confessions.

☆ WARNINGS - drinking, alcohol, bad descriptions of being drunk, jealousy, angst, pining, manipulation, skinny love, crying, slight panic attack, use of good girl (non-sexual), comfort, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you stood with your back against the drinks table, sighing through your pouted lips as you glanced around the room, hoping for some type of entertainment to catch your eye. you didn't even wish to be here, in fact, you would have done just about anything to be snuggled up in your bed reading a book right about now.

jason was the reason you were here in the first place and yet, he was nowhere to be seen.

you’d heard of the wayne gala’s a lot before, it wasn’t exactly new to you. you’d been to a couple of them yourself too but there was a reason you didn’t come to them often and one could guess it was because this is how it always ended, you sat up against the drinks table with expensive alcohol swirling in your expensive glass and dressed in your expensive dress. it was so… not you.

you were the type of girl that dragged your friends to junk yards and bought the cheapest clothes that you saw hidden in thrift stores.

not the type of girl that attended wayne gala’s.

and yet, here you stood all because you were so helplessly smitten with your all time best friend, jason todd, the son of bruce wayne, the redhood, the gentleman, the many, many things. he’d asked you to go to the wayne gala’s with him before, offering it up yet you always politely declined, stating it wasn’t your scene but this time was simply different.

you’d sat up on your bed, flicking through your magazines while jason rambled on as he began tearing his tie from around his throat. it was late, too late but jason never did care for the time when it came to seeing you.

you swallowed, nodding along and humming. it was just so late and you’d only woken up so your mind was all fuzzy and for some reason you couldn’t stop thinking about how nice some grapes would taste right about now. “are you listening to me?” the question from jason was rhetorical but you’d be lying if you said your undivided attention as on him. “i’m a dead man!”

“it’s not that big of a deal.” you uttered, closing your magazine and sighing, you really wanted some grapes. “really, you’re only stressing yourself out. you’re an… attractive guy, i’m sure you’ll get a girlfriend between now and the next gala.”

“but thats the thing… i don’t want a girlfriend!” sheesh, your head was too clouded for his yelling. “i shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”

you could only shrug your shoulders, nodding. “true.”

he took a seat on the pink quilts that surrounded your bed, his head falling into his hands and groaning. “you’re not helping.”

jason had made the idiotic choice of lying to bruce when asked if he had a girlfriend. he was just so tired of him asking and asking and asking so he decided to lie, telling him that he did in fact have a girlfriend and that they’d been together for quite a while now, he’d just been saving the announcement for a more special day.

so what did bruce do? announce it at his next gala, stating that jason would surely be bringing her along for the next.

and jason almost choked on his bourbon.

he was dressed in his suit from before, his hair all messed and teased while his clothes just looked out of it, his shirt untucked, his jacket discarded on the ground and he had pulled the tie from his neck, unbuttoning the first two or three buttons, he felt like he was going to collapse.

“i’m sorry.” you spoke softly, feeling sympathetic for your ‘best friend’. you turned to him, clad in your pretty pink pijama’s and softening your gaze on him. “how can i help?”

the way you looked at him should have told him everything. what your gaze should have said was that you were in love with him, you had been since the very first day you’d laid your eyes on him, gaze never leaving and your jaw falling slack. okay, perhaps you hadn’t loved him during your first encounter but there was definitely… something, something that told you this wasn’t just any boy but he was something much much more.

it should have told him a lot of things, should have spilled your feelings right then and there but jason was as oblivious as they come, he hadn’t a notion of what your gaze meant. in fact, he blamed the diluted pupils on the fact that he’d woken you up, banging on your door at all hours of the night.

“you could help in one way but… nevermind, it’s stupid.” shaking his head and turning away. the master of manipulation.

and you looked almost concerned then, the victim of that very manipulation. “no, what is it? i wanna help.”

and he knew you did, it’s why he said anything in the first place. sweet old you, always willing to do anything he said, just to please him.

“you could… you know, pretend to be my girlfriend, it would just be for the night, for the gala. you know, to get everyone off my back?” his eyes stared back at you, big and hopeful.

how could you, in your right mind, say no when you were so utterly full of love for the boy. “wha… i don’t even have a dress.” an excuse, a terrible one because something in you was downright shocked. you? of all people? first, you could barely go to that gala as it was let alone pretend to be his girlfriend.

besides, you began to get a little worried. perhaps you’d like the pretend game a little too much.

“i’ll buy you a dress.” he insisted almost instantly. lord knew he had the money.

but you frowned a little at that. “i’m not a charity case, jay…” sure, your apartment was a little small but it was homely, it was you. though you were sure it didn’t much live up to jasons standards.

“not a charity case, i know.” he came a little closer, pressing his hand against your thigh and rubbing it gently. “i just want you to feel your best for the night, angel, it’s just one night.”

you bit down on your lip, knowing you’d regret it. “fine.”

but for jason, you’d face just about any guilt.

and after his many thank you’s and squishing hugs that had your face smushed against your chest you finally sighed out. “I can’t believe i’m doing this for you.” sending him a playful glare though there was a pit in your stomach.

“please.” he couldn’t help but smirk. “you love me.”

and you couldn’t possibly tear your eyes away from him. without playfulness or a smile, you spoke the words, “I’d have to be a fool.” before quickly shaking your head and changing the subject. “you have to wear a pink tie to match my dress.”

he had the audacity to laugh in your face. “I will not.”

“yes you will.” you folded your arms over your chest. “you will or i’m not going.”

jason couldn’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “fine.”

“fine.” you repeated. “now go get me grapes from the fridge.”

brat.

you’d been announced as his girlfriend, he’d held your waist for the entire night, grinned and beamed over at you as his brothers watched sceptically.

now, you sat alone at a table, downing what felt like your hundredth glass.

you didn’t drink often so you gave yourself a little lean for this time, seeing as you never did it, now was your chance to get absolutely… shitfaced, did damian call it?

but it wasn’t as if you didn’t have a good reason.

jason, your best friend, your first and last love, was standing speaking to some blonde girl, she was giggling away, obviously pleased with herself as if she didn’t have a lipgloss smudge on her teeth. and you? you couldn’t have been more ashamed with yourself.

your head was placed on your arm that was slinked across the white tablecloth, just watching the pair as the alcohol swirled in your cup. you wondered how you went from eating the white grapes to downing the white wine in your hands.

then your eyes glanced back to jason, in his pretty pink tie, and it all made sense.

he was your best friend, you had no right to be jealous, no reason to be but for some reason you thought by him bringing you here, introducing you as his girlfriend meant something.

but it was all just play pretend.

you knew this, you knew it as well as anyone and yet you still couldn’t help but feel so utterly… hurt.

your eyes burned but you weren’t crying, your throat burned but that was only because of the alcohol that didn’t even taste nice.

they should really have grapejuice here, the non-alcoholic kind.

it was dick grayson who’d laid his hands on your shoulders that adverted your gaze from jason. your pupils were wide, the rims of your eyes red though you weren’t sure if that was due to the alcohol or the fact that you were holding your own tears at bay.

“hey, y/n, how you feeling?” his tone was soft, understanding. he really was one of your best friends. he was crouched down to your level as you sat in the chair.

you glanced down to the cup in your hands. “think ‘m drunk, dickie.” because suddenly the entire room was spinning.

“yeah.” he pressed his lips into a thin line. “think maybe you’re done for tonight, huh?” taking the glass from your hands before you could so much as protest.

with heavy eyes and an even heavier heart, you nodded your head. “think ‘m… ‘m gonna go home.” home was where your bed is, they say. but saying you were going home and directing it towards your house didn’t even sound right. home was that curly, raven haired boy with a pretty smile.

“don’t go home.” his eyes glanced towards jason, sighing. “don’t go before you’ve talked to him.”

dick was one of your best friends. with that being said, he knew everything about you down to where your birthmarks were, that meant he knew all about these hidden feelings for your supposed best friend jason todd, his dear little brother.

but you could only shake your head. even thinking about jason right now was enough to make you queasy. “no, he’s talkin’ to blondie.” blondie, the pretty girl who you couldn’t even judge if you wanted to. she had a dark black dress on, she was much taller than you, large heels and standing with her shoulders drawn back, obviously much more confident too.

was she everything that you lacked?

as if summoning him, you could feel the dark shadow that loomed over you, even with your head pressed against that damned tabelcloth, even that was expensive.

“is she alright?”

that voice, that pretty, deep, and almost mysterious voice yet as perplexing as it was, you were sure that you’d recognise that voice amiss any crowd, through any drink that entered your system. jason still roamed your mind, always and when his voice was spoken, you were sure to hear it.

“she’s drunk.” dick answered for you, as though you weren’t sitting right next to him. “i think you should bring her upstairs, get her cleaned up and put to bed.” dick was doing you a favour in the long run, even if it didn’t feel like it.

but your head had finally risen from the table, big doey eyes staring up at the two large men above you. “n-no i can… i can bring myself home.” your words slurring.

jason couldn’t help but laugh down at you, glossy lips turned into a pout. “yeah, cause i’d let you ride your little bicycle through gotham alone, at this hour of the night, in the state that you’re in.” of course, you were the only one in the entire world that would ride one of those pretty pink bikes with a woven basket in gotham. “come on, let me put you to bed.”

you don’t remember bidding goodbye to dick but you were sure you had. you didn’t remember moving from the table to the door, practically being pushed by jason. however, you did vaguely remember uttering the words, “you need’a say g’night to blondie.” to which he responded with. “who?”

that confused you because he genuinely seemed confused, as though he hadn’t even remembered the colour of the hair belonging to the girl he’d just spoken to. had he really been that uninterested or was he just putting on a show?

you did remember, however, sitting on the cold tiles of jason’s bathroom floor after he’d undressed you, stripping you to your undergarments and placing a long tee over you. you remembered the way his hands gently did it, soothing you as he went, uttering soft words and assuring you that it was okay.

in no way did he make anything sexual, instead, he was merely caring for his ‘best friend’.

you remembered the way the tears began rolling down your cheeks as you dry sobbed pathetically, the drink getting the better of you.

jason had been tending to your face, a cotton pad covered in micellar water gently cleansing your skin, softly dancing it across the makeup that covered your face and wiping it clean. he wasn’t used to taking off makeup, obviously, so this was a little difficult for him. but he got used to it.

it wasn’t the first time he’d done it for you.

only difference was this time he was comforting your cries at the same time. “shh, shh, c’mon, tell me wh’s the matter, baby?” all soft and gentle with you as you couldn’t do anything but let the liquidy tears fall down your face, trying to avoid his gaze. “c’mon, tell jay wh’s wrong so he can fix it.”

but how were you to tell him that the reason you were crying was because you loved him?

you couldn’t, so instead you opted for shaking your head, words practically heaving out of you as your breaths became laboured and uneven.

jason could tell where this was going.

he’d comforted you on multiple occasions, some worse than others but that didn’t change the fact that he knew you from the inside and out. “hey, hey, breathe, pretty girl, breathe.”

he’d taken your head in the palm of his hand, gently placing it against his chest so that you could feel the way his own chest rose and fell and hear the way his heart beated against his ribcage. he knew this was a good thing to do when it came to you, this was a reminder that he was alive and by the way you could hear and feel it too, surely, you were alive as well.

it was grounding.

“in with me, c’mon, angel.” breathing in and you followed, trying to take as much air into your lungs as you possibly could. “‘n out, good girl.” he praised, hearing the shaky breath that you still let out.

when your breathing had regulated back to normal, there were still tears streaming down your face and you couldn’t help but cry and whimper pathetically. you could blame the alcohol or you could blame the fact that you’d gotten so caught up in play pretend that you’d forgotten yourself, who you were and what you really meant to jason.

“s-shouldn’t have come.” you muttered through your desperate cries. “shouldn’t have come here.” while the messy tears coated your perfect skin.

it broke jason’s heart. you were his bubbly girl, always grinning and smiling, laughing at jokes you didn’t understand, grinning at people you didn’t even particularly like, you were nothing but good. you were gold, if the colour was a person, it was you. your heart was as big as a heart could get yet you know what they say, the bigger the person, the harder they fall.

and sometimes your poor golden heart simply couldn’t take the mean world.

“what?” suddenly, his own heart began to shatter. he suddenly felt as though it was his fault. you were acting like this because you didn’t want to be here, because either something had happened or simply you were too overstimulated due to the gala itself (poor oblivious jason still hadn’t got it right.) whatever the case, he’d been the one to drag you along here and now he felt guilt pang his heart heavily. “no, no everyone loved you, what are you talking about?”

your teary, broken eyes glanced up at him, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

perhaps it was the too much alcohol that had entered your lightweight system or perhaps it was the way he looked so… dreamy, even through your blurred vision. his pretty sapphire eyes gazed down at you, so full of concern and worry. he cared so deeply about you, you could tell from his eyes. the slope of his nose, his pretty lips drawn into a frown, his sharp jaw line and the little curls of his hair, white streaks at the front on wide display.

“i’m a fool.” you uttered, so pathetically, full of realisation.

once again, his black brows furrowed in confusion yet also so full of concern. he wanted to understand, to help you but you were proving it awfully difficult, not that he blamed you. “what? you’re not a fool, what are you talking about?”

you sniffled, practically blubbering. “i told you i’d have to be a fool to love you ‘n if that’s true then i’m a fool.” you hadn’t a notion of what possessed your mouth to move, possessed you to speak. “‘m the biggest fool in the world because i love you so much ‘n im scared i’ll never be able to stop loving you.”

and the biggest problem was that you were sure he’d never feel the same.

“is that what all of this is about?” he had to stop himself from chuckling at you, otherwise you’d take it the wrong way and the tears would begin again. instead, his eyes softened and his hand came down to move the hair from your face. “you should have just told me, princess, all of this could have been avoided.”

you stared up at him with those dazed, confused eyes.

“when i told you i didn’t want a girlfriend.” he confessed. “it wasn’t because i didn’t want one it was because i didn’t want one that’s not you.” you had to blink at him, thinking it was all merely a dream. “i love you too, sweet girl, always have, always will.”

and you were sure it was a dream.

“jay?”

“yeah?”

“will you tell me this again when i’m sober?”

a chuckle.

“of course, angel.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

main masterlist/jason's masterlist

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oneshots-heaven · 3 months

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THE MOTEL ROOM — "The Begin"

Since the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives who yet want the same out of life. Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses—but it all ends in the same motel room.

And it all began with the day you two met...

Warning: NSFW — explicit violence, cursing, mentions of injuries/killing in detail, mentioned co-dependence (mentor/mentee), bit angsty fluff Pre-Titans — Dick Grayson x Reader

Your knee hit with force right in the groin of the men attacking you, kneeling him down in one swing. Fear widened the eyes of his partners, yet they stood their ground. As much as they wished to simply give in to their fear, they all had given their boss a vow that did not allow them to do so. Eyes glistening, you smiled grimly, recking your chin up as you signaled them to come right at you.

No matter how much you made them shit their pants, they were still men with their full blown ego. Every second they showed their fear of a girl, it felt like poison to them and they hated it.

A roaring sound filled the badly lit alley as the first men stepped forward, wielding his fists at you. Ducking it easily, you had already grabbed his arm, twisting it harshly. The others came at you, trying to help their poor fellow. While their hatred fueled their actions, yours were fueled by the euphoric sound of their pain, pushing the adrenaline in your body as it worked its will.

Two of them hang onto your arms, holding them back as tightly as they possibly could, to give the third one a free way to fight you off. What a brutal mistake they’d made.

Just as they can close off to hurt you, you smashed your head hard enough against his nose. Crying out loud, he tumbled back, raising his arms to his bleeding nose. The only concern he could suddenly concentrate on. Using all the muscle strength you had in your core, you pulled the men down with you. Only difference was that unlike them, you rolled yourself gracefully over your shoulder, leaving them on the ground.

They would struggle for a longer while.

Leaving them behind in the alley, you started to run over to the old brick factory where all the chaos came from. Fucking hell, this hadn’t been how your mentor and you had pictured this entire situation to go down, but standing here and crying about it wouldn’t change it now either. As for now, the knowing that your mentor probably had the situation handled was the only relief.

Running into the factory, you tried to catch up with her, but soon realized you ran into much more trouble than you had imagined. The small group of the Duke’s men outside now resembled a foreplay, while what happened in front of your eyes was the true battle ground, and it didn’t take long until you were noticed.

“Looks like the cat has let out her kitten,“ one laughed, pulling all the attention to where his gaze was glued—you.

The men came storming toward you, you only had the briefest of a moment to overlook the situation. Not enough to try and check how your mentor was doing.

Drawing out your knives from your thigh halter, you greeted the fight with a vicious grin. Once there may had been a time where you had used to hold back, but you couldn’t remember any of it. Those days were long over and given by their blind reaction, they all underestimated you and they would be sorry for it. The first hit felt freeing, like a calling to a greater power. This was what you were born for, trained to master and dared to live.

Their throaty groans and roars echoed in your ears as your knives struck into some of the weakest points of their bodies, their soft skin lushly craving in, standing no chance against your quick movements. Until they got ahead of themselves, one dared to grab after one of your knives, walking into open fire as it dived deep through his arm, blood splashing right in your face.

Fuck this shit.

Fueled by every single of their groans, you struck over and over again, fighting your way through the newly formed group of opponents until all of your gymnastic and tactic skills weren’t enough anymore. You felt the cold metal resting against your skull. You didn’t even have to turn to know what it was, your gut told you. Putting down the bloody knives back in your halter, you breathed out just as a shot rang through the chaos of the old factory.

Your entire body tightened in surprise, however, the plump sound of a body falling down to the ground was the testimony you were waiting for. Gulping, still struck by the sudden shock, you turned slowly to see that someone had perfectly hit the pulse artery of your opponent’s neck.

“Were you waiting for death?“ someone called out.

A guy, not much taller than you, dressed in a dark costume with a cape draped over his shoulders and a black mask covering his eyes, came closer to you. You’d never seen him before.

“And who are you?“ you asked, instead of answering his question.

His dark, brown hair was long enough to fall into his face, almost covering his eyes. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a handicap as he appeared to be an excellent shooter.

His equally dark gaze met yours, eyeing you seemingly from inch to inch. “Doesn’t matter, but looks like we fight for the same side.“

Much worse than the shot was the sudden astonishing sound of an explosion that shook the walls of the entire factory, filling it with fire, broken glass and rubble that spread everywhere. Within one swift movement, the stranger had swung his cape over your bodies shielding you both from the massive heat wave and shatter that rolled over you. Your ribcage was moving heavily against his firm one as you found yourself held securely in his arms.

“Don’t expect me to thank you for that.“

“I won’t.“ he assured you bitterly.

The stranger pulled back his cape, revealing the destruction that had just occurred. Your body trembled next to his, feeling his assuring warmth leaving you. Although fear had become a foreign feeling to you, it always found a way to creep back up on you. It had been long since you had last seen your mentor and this was going far out of control. You couldn’t trust the blindness of trust anymore—you had to make sure she was fine.

Without another word to the stranger, you headed straight toward the destruction, knowing something or someone had caused it and that your mentor couldn’t be far from it. Gun shots, followed by unfamiliar yells came right from the direction of the towering rubble. The explosion had wrecked down almost an entire wall, flooding the factory with the construction lights from outside.

Chaos was erupting wherever she looked, drowning any of her thoughts with the sounds of gun shots and cries. Swinging out of nowhere onto the facade scaffolding, your mentor came into your sight, followed by a darker, taller figure. One that she never officially introduced you to, yet always talked about—it was Batman. Indulging in the fight happening around them, they were fighting side by side.

“Guess you’re right. We do fight for the same side.“ you murmured, noticing how the stranger had caught up to you.

The calm before the storm lasted for the briefest of moments. Much like your mentor, the stranger suddenly whipped backwards out of nowhere, and within one bones-cracking movement, he had brought down a man, stomping brutally on his hand to force him to let go of the knife he wanted to attack you with. His yells drove deep through your bones, vexing you in the best way possible.

Glancing from the man to the stranger, you had so much to say but no words came out.

“Then you better show me what you’ve got.“ he challenged you, nodding to the incoming trouble rushing toward you. You heard his knuckles crack, balling his fists as you drew out your knives, ready to take on any fight if it meant to keep your and might as well his mentor’s back free.

As the group of Duke’s misfits came closer to you, you immediately recognized their change of weaponry—for the worse, as they had exchanged the usual guns to the Duke’s specialized ones.

“Don’t get hit,“ you warned, knowing the greater danger of the Duke’s bullets.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.“

Furiously you turned around, sending him a glare for that pet name. He was cocky, overall too confident to be this cool through a fight that could potentially end his life, and it frustrated you to the maximum. This wasn’t some sort of game, no matter how much he tried to turn it that way. Neither of you wouldn’t make it out without any hurt if you didn’t watch out. He, however, recked his chin up, as if he was daring death by any chance to come by.

Combat was nothing compared to a gun, it would always defy the other, but you were quick—quicker than them with their guns. The stranger was too, he struck perfectly every single time, bringing down men after men. Shots rang from everywhere, spiraling around you and your opponents, trying your best to keep yourself away from the bullets.

But no training could make every flaw of one vanish. A high-pitch voice cried out from a far, ringing in your ears, causing you to turn your attention away for the split of a moment. On the rooftop of the factory next door was your mentor with a dark shadow draped over her. Your heartbeat got stuck in your throat, causing you to gasp after air. He would keep her safe, or that was at least what you hoped for.

A laughter, followed by someone calling out for you, pulled you harshly out of your trance. The shot rung so insanely close by you that you were able to feel the vibration. You tried catching your breath, it had almost scraped your skin.

No material was able to withstand the Duke’s experimental bullets—they were perfect into its smallest detail and were as deadly as their description. As soon as they entered one’s skin barrier, the bullet would shatter into millions of small pieces, wounding one very little at first, before painfully killing them due to internal bleeding.

You looked the horror straight in the eye as another shot rung, seeing exactly how the bullet hit the stranger through his suit in the lower abdomen. All color vanished from your face. Within seconds, he crunched in pain, unable to keep up the defense and becoming an easy target for your opponents, but not if he was with you.

Picking up the blades that you had dropped, you picked up one by one before they’d come to the realization what you were doing. Pushing yourself up on your feet, you threw the first knife, striking straight into the neck of one, and then another. The anger, and mainly worry for the stranger, blinded and caused you to go riot. You had no idea if the bullet had hit him or not, if he was bleeding already, however you couldn’t get to him, not if there were still people attacking you around.

The last one plunged forward, wrapping his arm around your neck, choking you with his hold. Grabbing onto his arm, you stabilized yourself from his sudden act but were quick to think, ramming your knife the next second in the soft part of his thigh, probably slashing a few veins in the process. His groans echoed in your ears, as you pressed your lips angrily together, ripping it out again, only to wind it down again and again until he let go of you.

His cries of pain grew louder as you kneeled him in his groin, letting him sack onto his knees. His angered eyes were glued onto you. The only words that escaped his mouth were bad names, but you didn’t care, it would be his last ones. Your knife slashed his throat, ceasing away his voice, having the blood splashing right in your face as you dig your knife deep enough for him to never speak again.

The voice of your mentor echoed through your head. Ever since the beginning, she had taught you that death was the last option, and although you could have punished that man without killing him, it was what he had deserved.

Glancing over to the stranger, you instantly banished any further thought of regret out of your head, running over and crashing right down on your knees next to him. His breath whistled through his throat, his chest only heaved with struggle causing your hands to become shaky. He couldn’t die in front of you after just saving your life, this wouldn’t be fair. You took a closer look where the bullet hit, checking for the awful impact, as relief rushed over you. The Duke’s ultimate weapon may not be as unavoidable as he thinks. The bullet had struck deep into the hard shell of his suit, withholding the full impact of it.

“Thank God,“ you breathed, meeting the stranger’s helpless gaze as you held onto him.

The unsteady metal platform underneath you vibrated under the jolt as someone—might add elegantly—swung their way onto it. In-between the chaos of it all, your mentor came closer to you, noticing what had happened. Kneeling down on the opposite sided of the stranger, she leaned down, also inspected the wound with great fear.

“He’s lucky,“ you told her, pointing at the bullet entrance. “The suit shell stopped the bullet, somehow. I can stabilize him and then we can go find the Duke.“

“No,“ your mentor interrupted you immediately, brushing the dark brown hair of the stranger out of his face, a motherly gesture, as if she knew him. A concerned, yet loving gaze hushed over her face as you watched her closely. “You need to bring him away from here, somewhere safe. Check on him and make sure he survives the night. I’ll come for you.“

As you processed her words, you shook your head. This had become the biggest mission for your mentor and you since the beginning of it all. You had hunted down the Duke for almost an entire year by now, only for all of this to turn out much bigger than either of you had expected. With almost experienced firsthand what the bullet could do, there was no way in hell you would let her do this without your help, even if she didn’t need it. You were trained for this, and for this only. You couldn’t let her do this on her own.

Letting go of the stranger, you pushed yourself up and caught her wrist. “No, I’m coming with you.“

“We’ll handle this, trust me.“ she said, grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly before letting go of you, ready to storm into the next fight. “Please, do me the favor and protect Robin.“

Jumping off the platform, she was quick to getaway, leaving you behind with the stranger.

“No, I can’t,“ you yelled out, “Selina!“

Your eyes had burned as your mentor had turned her back on you, and even though every fiber of your body argued to go after her, you did as you were told to.

Unlike you, the stranger didn’t argue when you had draped his arms over your shoulders, helping him to get back up on his feet. His face had contorted in pain as he straightened himself. Without any second thought about it, you had reached out for his free hand to press it together with yours against the wound, because even though you didn’t know him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. You had spent the entire past months analyzing every data and material about the Duke’s bullets you could get your hands on, knowing the brutal impact they caused all too well.

As you had made your way carefully through the rubble of the factory, headed outside, a car came into your view. You didn’t care whose car it was, only having on your mind that you were in need of one to take the two of you somewhere safe, and you were glad that the stranger apparently didn’t care either.

Gotham City’s streetlights flickered past you as you rushed through the late night traffic, driving out of the city, stopping somewhere in-between the highway and the next suburb at a familiar run down motel, where rarely anyone ever willingly stayed at. It was run by an old lady and her son, whom received anonymous checks with money once in a while for her unknown guests. It had served your mentor and you well many times, it was the perfect hideout when things got wrong as no one would ever question it.

Given the dried blood all over your clothes and face, and the weapons strapped onto almost every limb of your body, you were more than thankful now to not go up and having to pay for a room. Instead you simply had done it as always—cracked the lock open and entered as if the place belonged to you.

The blood hardened on your face, yet you could feel it cracking when you found yourself kneeled in front of the stranger, whom you had placed into the dusty, old wing chair. With great carefulness and even greater improvisation, you tried your utter best to take care of his wound, patting with a cloth soaked in cheap vodka from the minibar onto the wound. A sharp whimper left his mouth.

“I’m sorry.“

“It’s fine,“ he falsely assured you through gritted teeth, looking down at you.

Ignoring his lie, you shook your head as you continued to clean out the wound. It was far from being anything merely close to being fine, it was worse than you had thought. Although the hard shell of his suit had stopped the bullet’s full impact from entering his body, it had burned partly through the material, leaving a nasty, large burned scar on his lower torso. Unclothing him without hurting him at the same time seemed impossible, the suit material had burned slightly onto his skin.

“I’m almost done,“ you told him, not knowing what else to talk about. You didn’t even know him, and the silent tension in the room was suffocating you.

He didn’t say anything in return to, instead, he tried his best to suppress any noise of pain. Besides the small vodka bottle, you hadn’t found much to take care of his wound. It was pure luck that it was only a burned flesh wound, instead of an open one. Otherwise, you would’ve been fucked as there was nothing laying around to remotely sew it close. By ripping and shredding a towel with your knife, which went dull in the process of it, you had managed to makeshift a bandage for him.

“Here, lean forward,“ you took the prepared bandage in your hand.

Slowly he leaned forward, groaning in pain with every movement. As quickly as you were able to, you wrapped the towel remains around his torso, pulling it tight. It didn’t need to hold for long, it just needed to help him survive the night.

“It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing,“ you sighed, reassuring yourself that the bandage was secure enough. Split seconds later, you held in, noticing your hands near his naked upper body, so close that you feel his warmth, his heartbeat racing, his breathing slowing down. In the next, you felt his eyes scrutinizing every inch of you, making you glance up to him to meet his eyes, only to catch him with parted lips.

”Thank you,“ he breathed quietly in return.

You gulped under the tension of his eyes watching you, letting go of his hips as you pushed yourself away from him until you could lean against the end of the bed. For the first time in this long night, you felt some sort of relief as you leaned your head back against the old mattress. Every part of your body felt tensed and sore, and while you tried your hardest to stay wake, you craved nothing more than to crawl into that dusty bed and get some rest.

But you didn’t close your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, not until you saw her again and knew that nothing happened to her. Looking at the stranger, you were sure he felt the same way as he moved around unsettled in that chair, feeling miserable as he was unable to do anything due to the crushing pain that kept him sitting right there.

“So, you’re Robin, huh? Batman’s little sidekick?“

A muffled chuckle escaped his mouth. “I’m far from being little.“

“You’re not even a head taller than me.“

He shrugged, regretting it immediately as another sharp whip of pain hit him. “So what, I’m still growing, unlike you probably.“

He wasn’t wrong about that.

“You’re the Kitten everyone talks about.“ he said after you hadn’t said anything in return to him.

You pressed your lips to a small smile. “That’s at least what everyone calls me.“

He pushed himself further down in the chair, letting out a breathy groan in response. “I already guessed that that wasn’t your real name.“

Meeting his dark gaze, you replied, “Well, I’ll take that Robin isn’t your real name either.“

“No, it’s Dick.“

“Dick? For real?“ you snorted, seeing the annoyance written all over his face as he rolled his eyes. “No, I get it. Short for Richard, right? I’m Y/N.“

He didn’t say anything in reply to that. You’d received nothing beyond a simple, barely recognizable nod. Not a false ’nice to meet you’, nor a silly comeback comment about your name. Instead, he and you fell into silence again, heads resting with eyes so heavy, drained from any energy and feeling so desperate for rest, yet neither of you dared to fall asleep.

“You still have blood on your face.“

You felt it, how it dried down all over your face, cracking with every movement. Once your immediate reaction would have been to touch your face in astonished shock, now however, things were quite different. Instead, you sat there doing absolutely nothing about it. “I know,“ you replied quietly, “I don’t care.“

It was the truth, you didn’t a bit. It left you cold.

“What do you care about?“

The tone of his voice clearly mocked you, although its tiredness, and it made you furious. Let alone looking at him suddenly made you regret that you had saved him as he was the reason you were stuck here. The reason why you weren’t with your mentor, fighting alongside her like you were supposed to. Now all you were left with his mockery tone and the bitter unknown of your mentor’s well-being.

Batman may was with her, and God knows, what a skilled fighter he was, but that wasn’t enough for you. Your mentor and you had stood together for years now after she had taken you under her wing, no one knew her better than you did. You knew every move of hers, you knew when you were about to win, as well as when to give up a fight. No one could protect her as you could.

For months, you had watched the Duke and his following, trained and prepared to overthrow, only to end up being stuck with a stranger in a motel room.

“You know what I do care about?“ it left your mouth quicker, more harsher than you had intended. “I care about Selina. I care about the mission I had with her before Batman and you came along. We’ve had a plan, it would have all been fine if you hadn’t showed up, because now I’m stuck here, not knowing when or if she comes back, and that’s all your fault.“

“If I hadn’t shown up, they would’ve shot you right in the head.“

“So it be!“ you cried out.

He scoffed. “You can’t be serious.“

“Oh, I fucking am.“

All the pain seemed forgotten as he sat up straight, his eyes so sterling furious.

“Look, I understand exactly how you feel, but this was so much bigger than either of us had expected. We would’ve only been a burden for them, instead of help, and you would’ve been dead if I hadn’t been there to save you. As much as you have saved me with this.“ he argued, his voice cracking by the end, motioning to the bandage you had made. “I know this unknown sucks, but they will make it through. They’ve faced worse together already, have a little faith in them. She’ll come back for you.“

Hot tears shot in your eyes, as you loosened your balled fists. Facing away from him, you blinked them away, trying your utter best to keep yourself contained. You felt like a fool for reacting this intensely, especially in front of him. You’d noticed yourself a while ago how bad it had gotten, how much you depended on your relationship with Selina. She was the only family you had left and although she was far more experienced than you, letting her alone in a situation like this scared you.

Your dependence made you vulnerable, and somehow you were glad that Dick didn’t use that as an advantage against you. Instead, he had said what you had needed to hear, almost as if he truly knew what it felt like to be this helpless and weak.

“Do you think this is what we’re supposed to do, what they’ve secretly wanted? Exchange our real names, befriend each other, because we’re both sidekicks?“

His mouth twitched upwards. “If you rather want me to call you kitten, I can do that.“

“No, I like it when—“ you murmured, suddenly regretting being so harsh to him. “Call me by my real name.“

“If you call me by mine.“ he said sincere, and for the briefest of moments, you held onto that. It was perhaps the closest thing to a friendship you’d experienced in years.

Part 2 coming soon.

Thank you for reading — I'm always happy about feedback.

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your-neighbor-in-the-northblue · 7 months

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The Explorer ↠ Goddess!Robin x Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romance, Goddess/Explorer AU

The pyramids had always been a mystery to those who couldn't glimpse deeper past the sandstone walls that littered the desert. They were a mystery to you too, but you liked to pretend you knew what you were talking about. It was more fun that way, and everyone always seemed to take you seriously.

You currently found yourself within one of those unknown structures with nothing but a flashlight and a roughed-up bag. You were well renowned for your expedition skills, being able to slither, squirm and chance your way out of most situations unscathed. Your luck was more of a talent at this point, though, it was bound to run out eventually.

"You're quite small." The multi-limbed woman spoke, breaking the silence that was beginning to flood the extensive room she resided in.

You took a few steps back as two of her six arms snaked around to cup you up into her hands and lift you up so that she could gaze at you closer. It was intimidating, to say the least, you were about the size of her pinky finger and at the complete mercy of whatever she desired.

"Oh, don't be afraid, little one, I don't intend on harming you," She hummed, gently caressing the top of your head with her finger.

There was something about her that was incredibly alluring to you. You felt like a fly to a web as you gazed up into her striking blue eyes. You couldn't find it within you to retreat—or look away in any capacity. You stood there, completely vulnerable to whatever Robin wanted—and she wanted you.

"Would you like to stay with me?"

You gulped, "What would I eat? And what about my life above ground?"

Her smile never faltered as she responded, "You don't need to worry about that, I've got everything you'd ever need right here in this room."

You blinked a few times, finally removing your eyes from the entity before you looked around at the area you found yourself in. Books lined the walls in rows that stretched from the floor all the way up to where the ceiling cut them off, and globes and maps hung sporadically, leaving no space uncovered by the immense amount of knowledge that had been packed into this one room.

"This is the library of the Gods, and I'm the keeper of it." She explained, taking notice of your curious glances. "All the knowledge in the world is kept here, there's not a question that I can't answer."

You met her eyes quickly. Having knowledge of everything was tempting, especially for someone like you who always wanted to know more—who always needed to know more. This was a dream come true for you and you'd be a fool to deny the opportunity you were being presented. Your luck will definitely run out one day, but today you found yourself in the luckiest predicament yet.

"Alright, I'll stay."

#one piece #one piece oneshot #nico robin #nico robin op #nico robin one piece #robin one piece #robin op #robin x reader #goddess au #explorer au #nico robin x reader #nico robin oneshot #robin oneshot

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gotham-fan-shit · 2 years

Text

Intel gone wrong

Pairing: Tim Drake x Vigilante!GN Reader

Request: can i ask for tim drake x vigilante reader? irs cool if not

Warnings: Brief allusion to drugs/drug dealing

Word Count: 613

A/N: i’m actually quite a big tim fan surprisingly. always willing to write something for my tj drake nation. had quite a bit of fun w this one so enjoy!!

Gotham City is dark, as it has always been. It is as though the macabre and melancholy gloom of its people have seeped into its very climate, perpetuating its weather with an atmosphere of a constant foggy grey. Dimly lit buildings, broken electrics and expensive skyscrapers illuminate its pitch black sky with flashes of light, casting brightness onto the odd alleyway, or building top. But the shadows are in abundance, and shrouded in shadow is how you and your boyfriend sit now, perched on the edge of some roof.

Tim is looking through binoculars, his sights fixated on some criminals, a product of the case you’re both working. His other hand is in yours, your fingers clasped tightly together. His brows are knitted together, his lips ever so slightly parted.

After a moment, the wind rustling his hair into a tousled mess, he shakes his head and brings the binoculars to his side. “Nothing’s happening. There’s no deal.” You frown, and take the binoculars from him, trying to get a view. His hand drops from yours as you take it to adjust the focus.

Sure enough, he’s right; nothing. A couple goons are scattered about, wandering around. But that’s typical of the city, and though the location and gang symbols appear correct, the deal you were told about doesn’t seem to be happening. “Batman's intel isn’t usually wrong,” you say. “Do you think it was a cover? A distraction from something bigger?” Tim shakes his head. “I doubt it. They’d aim for something larger as a distraction.” You hum in agreement.

The night air is cool and bitter, thick with the onset of the coming seasons and littered with pollution. You both check and recheck, but to no avail. The deal isn’t happening.

Eventually, you sit down properly, leaning back. “What should we do now?” Tim shrugs, then laughs, his head dropping slightly, covering his eyes with his hair. “I’m not sure. This doesn’t usually happen, much less when I’m on my own case.” You poke him. “Our case.” He holds his hands up in a mock surrender and mutters about your being correct. He joins you in sitting, and his arm finds its way on your shoulders, snaking across and resting his hand on your arm, pulling you close to him. He’s warm, much warmer than the city night. You lean into him and rest your head. You suppose you should inform Batman, maybe head back to the cave for a briefing. But being vigilantes and students often means the two of you don’t get moments like this together; not moments alone, where there’s no atmosphere of study or tension or work.

A siren wails in the distance. The wind makes audible swooshes as it whips around buildings and flutters under capes. You sit with Tim, with Red Robin, under stars that light pollution makes you unable to see. You nestle into the warmth of his chest, and silently celebrate a moment of intimacy that isn’t caused by some injury or illness. His cape his been pushed around you by the air, and you still note that it’s softer than it looks. Next week, there’ll be a villain to fight. Some poison to rapidly cure or a world to save. But that will be a problem for next week. For the future. Right now, all your problems seem to dissipate, and you stay content, letting the soft locks of Tim’s hair tickle your face and pretending that the breeze does not bite at your face, and that you are not cold. Coldness, again, is a problem for the future. You don’t need to think about that, not right now. Not right now.

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thepurplebutterflythings · 2 years

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Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 14) - Jason Todd

Gif: Oliverbruce3 on Tenor

Word Count: 2.2K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Y/N Wayne makes her first public appearance at the Gala that Bruce Wayne had planned in her honour

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterizations.

A/N: A special thank you to @marveling-avengers for the recommendation of ‘How Can We Be Lovers’ by Michael Bolton for the karaoke song for Jason Todd.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36

________________________________________________________________

Y/N nibbled on her lip as Harley and Ivy ushered Jason out of the house. He was to get ready at Dick’s hotel room. There was no chance that he would be allowed to see Y/N in her dress before the Gala. Lord knows what her mother and Harley and Ivy would be like when Y/N and Jason decided to tie the knot. She could only imagine. Bruce was already in his suit and made to wait in the living room as Selina, Harley and Ivy helped Y/N into her dress, did her makeup and hair, and put her jewellery on. Harley and Ivy had already left the Manor to arrive at the Gala, leaving Y/N with Selina and Bruce.

With shaking fingers, Y/N put the pearl earrings that Jason bought her in and then smoothed the non-existent creases from her dress.

“You look stunning,” Selina said as she squeezed her daughter’s shoulders, “absolutely breath-taking.”

Selina herself wore a sleek fitted dress made of black satin with a gold chain back with simple, elegant gold jewellery. Her hair was loose and framing her face. Selina Kyle had a nearly twenty-year-old daughter and still looked as though she hadn’t aged a day since her daughter was conceived on that rooftop. Y/N and Selina could have been and had been, mistaken for sisters.

“Mum,” Y/N blushed, turning around and hugging her mother.

“Careful,” Selina chuckled, “don’t want to ruin your beautiful gown now, do we?”

“You look… just, wow!” Y/N said to her mother. Selina smiled modestly as she slides her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, kitten,” Selina pressed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead then wiped the lipstick stain from her skin, “now, come on, let’s go and see your father.”

Selina took Y/N’s hand they led her slowly down the stairs to make sure that neither of them tripped and fell. As they reached the final steps, Bruce stood there waiting. He held his hand out to help Selina and then his daughter.

“Stunning,” Bruce told them, “the pair of you.”

“Bruce, you sweet talker, you!” Selina chuckled, fondly patting his cheek.

__-

As the car which Y/N and her parents were in pulled up, she looked out of the window to see Jason and Dick waiting at the entrance. The press weren’t outside, like one might expect, but were waiting inside patiently, waiting to see what they had been rounded up into the Gotham Ballroom for. Jason smiled as he recognised the car, pulling up. He quickly came down the steps and opened the door the moment the car stopped.

Jason gasped as Y/N took his hand to help her step out. They stepped to the side as Bruce and Selina stepped out. Jason looked at Y/N’s dress; a black dress with red lace patterned elegantly over it and a v neck with long sleeves. The lace was printed heavily on the upper half, very little black fabric showing, including on the sleeves, while scattered elegantly over the lower half. The lower half was netted, showing her legs from the lower thigh down, her upper thigh hidden by the underskirt of a body-con sewn into her dress. The edge of her net skirt was decorated with the red lace as well. The red lace, Y/N’s favourite part of the dress, was floral; leaves, roses, other unidentified flowers with her Aunty Ivy could recite from memory, but Y/N didn’t know. It was a beautiful gown fitted to her body like a glove.

“Whoa, Kitty Cat,” said Jason, “just… wow, you look… wow!”

“Worth the wait?” Y/N chuckled teasingly as she remembered how he scolded after Ivy and Harley shushed him out of the house.

“Definitely,” he nodded.

“Look at you two,” Selina cooed, “all match-y and cute.”

Jason looked as though he should have been walking the red carpet for the MET Gala, stylishly looking to the left and right with one of those relaxed cool celebrities with those expensive real leather shoes, black and polished so well that they reflected the flashes of the cameras back to them as he effortlessly look good in every photograph taken of him. His suit was custom made to match Y/N’s dress. He wore a black satin suit with a floral pattern illustrated on the jacket and trousers. There was a plain black satin waistcoat underneath the jacket with a plain black button-up shirt. His black satin tie was printed with a red wildflower design and the handkerchief in the jacket pocket was also a black satin with a red embroidered edge. His outfit was, like Y/N, was fitted perfectly for him.

“Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy have good taste in fashion,” Jason chuckled as he kissed Y/N’s temple, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Damn right they do,” Y/N grinned, “they’re style icons!”

“Come on,” Dick chuckled as he stood watching them all, “the press is waiting inside.”

“Are you ready?” Bruce asked Y/N, who took a deep breath, smiled and nodded, holding onto Jason’s hand.

“Ready.”

________________________________________________________________

The moment they walked into the ballroom; all eyes were on them. Y/N and Jason, arm in arm, and Bruce Wayne with Selina Kyle. Dick Grayson was going stag and everyone watched the group curiously.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Bruce called out with a chuckle, “apologies for our late appearance, but who doesn’t like to make an entrance?”

The stuck-up people all chuckled lowly in a charming fashion with a playful shake of the head before returning to the conversations they were previously having. Y/N exhaled and looked to her father, who gave her a sympathetic smile, a smile which told Y/N ‘sorry but these events never get easier’. Y/N smiled back in understanding with a nod.

“Let’s get a drink,” Dick said to them all.

“Yes, please,” Y/N nodded exasperatedly as she and Jason started following Dick.

“We’ll be doing rounds,” Selina and Bruce said as they walked a separate direction to begin talking with the guests.

“You alright?” Jason asked Y/N, noticing her paled expression.

“God, this is overwhelming!”

“Hey, you’re doing great,” Jason said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her forehead. “Everything will be fine.”

“Yeah,” Dick nodded, “these things don’t come up often, but you just need to learn how to handle them.”

“How’d you handle them?” Y/N asked as she shakily took a champagne flute off of a passing tray.

“Personally? I hung in the kitchens and ate,” Dick shrugged.

“I don’t think I’m going to have that luxury when people find out who I am,” she said as she faked a smile as the strangers eyed her curiously.

“Well, you’ll have me here to help,” Jason smiled.

“Thank god!” Y/N chuckled as she leaned into him as his arm draped itself around her shoulder. “These will be a lot more bearable with you.”

“Gawd, ya’ll are sickening,” Harley drawled as she suddenly appeared with Ivy. Harley was wearing a golden floor-length gown with a slit in the skirt. It was backless with a halter neckline and a bow on the lower back. Ivy wore a caped chiffon gown of a soft grass green that flowed with every step she took. Harley wrapped an arm around her spouse’s waist, pressing a big red kiss on Ivy’s cheek, causing Ivy to playfully scowl as she pulled a napkin off a table and dab it away so not to ruin her makeup.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” Y/N teased as Harley rolled her eyes.

“How’s the elite of Gotham handling Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy making an appearance at a Wayne Gala?” Dick asked them.

“Well, I’d like to point out that the moment the staff saw me.” Ivy said, “They took out the floral centrepieces your father chose.”

“That’s not fair,” Y/N scowled, “let me talk to dad.”

“No, no,” Ivy shook her head, “if it makes them feel safe, let them have it. I don’t need plants to kill people if I wanted.”

“She’s incredible with a gun,” Harley bragged, “it’s so hot.”

“Kickass girlfriends are hot!” Jason lifted his glass slightly. Harley laughed and nodded, as did Ivy.

“I’ll drink to that,” Harley said as she clinked her glass with Jason’s own glass.

“So, sprout,” Ivy cooed, stroking Y/N’s hair fondly, “how are you finding your first Gala?”

“A bit uncomfortable at the moment,” she confessed in a whisper, “I feel everyone staring at me…”

“Hun, not to call you vain or anything, but I think it’s Ives and me they’re gawking at,” Harley gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Well, I think when the board of Wayne Enterprises realise I’m stealing the CEO position from them, I’ll be the one getting the stares…”

“Hey, you are a hard worker, determined and have a head for business,” Ivy assured her.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded, “you’d end up CEO even if you weren’t a Wayne.”

“Thanks,” Y/N smiled as she let out a shaky breath, “nice to know not everyone in this room is going to try and kill me.”

“You could take all these suits down with one hand tied behind your back,” Jason assured Y/N, rubbing her shoulder and chuckling. “Don’t worry.”

“Can’t help but feel nervous,” Y/N confessed.

“I get it,” Dick said, “trust me, I do. I’ve dealt with all these people had to be introduced – the only difference is I weren’t a threat to their want of CEO, so I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

“Emotional hell!” Y/N sighed, “God, I’m practically shaking right now. I kinda wanna run out of here right now.”

“Whatever you need,” Jason placed his hands on her shoulders after brushing her hair from her eyes, “I’ll do. I’ll be there for you through all of this. Promise.” He travelled his hands down her arms to her hands, taking them in his own, rubbing his thumbs on the back of her hands. “Breathe, in and out, in and out.”

Y/N nodded as she followed his voice, breathing in and then out and then in and then out. Repeating it a few times, Y/N felt herself slowly starting to calm out. Looking into his eyes, Y/N smiled.

“Thank you, Jason,” she said, leaning in and kissing his cheek, right next to his lips. “What would I do without you?”

“Gawd, you make the notebook look bleak,” Harley rolled her eyes.

“Kitten,” Selina said as she and Bruce approached their daughter, “are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she smiled, holding Jason’s hand, silently asking if Jason could come with her. Bruce and Selina smiled and nodded as Y/N turned to Jason, who kissed the back of her hand. “Let’s go.”

________________________________________________________________

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Bruce said into the microphone on the stage. Selina, Y/N and Jason stood at the back of the stage watching as Jason held Y/N’s hand, “thank you all for coming out tonight. Now, I know that everyone except a select few know the reason behind this Gala, and so the rest of you are left wondering why you are here. Rightly so of course – Bruce Wayne is not the type of man to throw a party for the sake of it… well, anymore at least, I’m not in my twenties any longer.” The audience began laughing at Bruce’s joke in a low collective fashion to appease the Billionaire. “Now, as I said, I’m not a young man anymore, not like Mr Todd, or even Mr Grayson, who has been kind enough to come from Detroit for this evening, which I cannot thank him enough for this support. As of late, I have found myself wondering what is to happen to Wayne Enterprises when my time is up. Hopefully, I have a long, long life ahead of me, I plan to stick around for a long time at least – no need to take me off your Christmas card list yet, ladies and gentleman. But all joking aside, these past couple of months have been sobering for me, and I have come to learn so much about myself, and of those that I love and care about. The love of my life, Selina Kyle,” Bruce looked at Selina and smiled at her. Selina smiled and waved at Bruce. Certain members of the crowd seemed to be familiar with who she was, remembering her from Bruce’s youth, and aww’d at them, “and… my, well, mine and Selina’s incredible daughter, Y/N Wayne,” the audience started making a low murmuring noise, wondering if they had heard correctly – daughter? Did Bruce Wayne say daughter? Bruce Wayne has a daughter? A daughter with Selina Kyle?

Bruce nodded for Y/N to come to the front with Selina, gesturing to her to speak into the microphone. Jason squeezed Y/N’s hand in support before letting go and stepping back as Y/N walked with her mother to the front of the stage. Y/N smiled at her father before leaning into the microphone.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” Y/N said, “I am Y/N Wayne, daughter of Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle.”

“Now,” Bruce said as he spoke into the microphone again, “I am sure you all have questions, but before you ask those, I want to make an announcement about the future of Wayne Enterprises – when my time to step down as CEO arrives, the role shall be filled, rather well I would say, by Y/N Wayne.”

The crowd uproared.

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hairmetal666 · 10 months

Text

The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

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sp0o0kylights · 4 months

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Eddie led a weird life.

This was something he welcomed, given half the things people thought were “weird” was just his fashion sense or preference for table top games.

Small potatoes to the larger things in life, really.

Of course, this was before he found out there was an evil version of Hawkins underneath him.

Now Eddie did things that would previously sent his old self into a fucking coma.

His friendship with Steve Harrington for example.

Dude saved his life and bridal-style carried him out of literal hell.

It’d have been rude not to be friendly with the guy after that, even if they weren’t both members of a very exclusive and bloody club, with trauma and secrets that really only a select few people would ever understand.

Sleeping over at Harrington’s half the week also made perfect sense, and Eddie will argue that to his very grave.

It turns out nightmares suck, and waking up screaming all the time sucks even more.

Something everyone involved in this entire escapade (and all the ones prior) knew.

Because more bodies means more eyes to look out for you, and feeling safe means you might actually sleep for an hour, they all got used to showing up at each other's houses at odd hours of the night.

Pulled one another out of nightmares and got comfortable with the fact that they slept better, together.

Steve’s house in particular is typically void of both adults and annoying freshmen, which meant it's the most comfortable place for a lot of people to crash together.

(Sometimes the annoying freshmen do show up and maybe Eddie is also a little weirdly overprotective of the whole Party now, and alright fine, he enjoys all their company, even Erica's--but who's keeping track?

He isn’t.

He’s busy arguing all this is perfectly normal.)

Sleeping in Steve’s bed is where things get a little tricky.

See, when it was more than just Robin and Eddie crashing at Casa De Harrington, they all sleep in the living room.

Steve drags out some fancy blow up mattress (an air mattress what the fuck) and changes the couches around and long story short his fucking living room is more comfortable than Eddie’s own bed has ever been.

But when it's just Eddie and Robin, they retire to Steve’s stupid huge bed, so large the damn thing takes up most of his equally massive room.

(“This isn’t weird right?” He’d asked Robin once, hanging his head over the edge of the bed while Steve did--whatever it was he was doing to his hair in the bathroom.

Robin, who was busy rifling through Steve’s drawers for a shirt to steal, stopped and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Not unless you make it weird, Munson.” She’d told him, and well, that was all the permission he needed.

They slept together in tight groups, where it was easiest to defend each other in case of Upside Down fucking monster attack.

Case closed.)

Sleeping in Steve Harrington’s bed, without the buffer that was Robin Buckley, is where the lies started.

Because it was weird.

It was incredibly weird, and did guys even do this solo?

Eddie hadn’t. If one of Hellfire or the band stayed over, it was a strictly floor/bed/couch situation unless there were more than three of them, and that was within Eddie’s small ass trailer.

Sure they piled up if they had to, but it wasn't like it was with Steve. All tangled limbs and being right up in each others space, no pillow or blanket or anything as a buffer.

Hell, Eddie had woken up getting spooned or doing the spooning more than once, and no one said shit.

How Steve made it sound so genuinely normal was beyond him.

Not that Eddie argued about it.

Not the first time of the fifth or the twenty-fifth, and not even after Robin pointed out he was rooming with Harrington more than she was.

Because he just slept better, next to Steve.

(Steve apparently, felt the same.

Or must have given it kept happening.)

It wasn’t like Steve didn’t crash at Eddie’s trailer either--his parents had come right home upon hearing about the earthquake, and had been a bit more present after running into the joint forces of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers in the hospital lobby.

Add in Wayne’s own Disapproving Stare (TM) and the town being up each other’s ass to try and keep it together, and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were hanging out in Hawkins that much more.

(Steve seemed to think it was more to save face rather than because they actually gave a shit, which Eddie felt was obvious but he wasn’t gonna say it.

“They’re trying I think. They just--they’ve never encountered anything like this.” He’d said, a little frown line pinching his eyebrows together.

“Stevie, no one has faced anything like what we have. Your parents, on the other hand, are only dealing with what they think is the aftermath of an earthquake and plenty of people have seen those.”

Steve had sighed. Stared a little helplessly, like he knew he was making excuses but couldn’t help himself.

“I know, Eds. I know.”)

Them being home more meant Steve was at Eddie’s more--on grounds that Robin’s parents were fine with him hanging out but drew some kind of weird not--very--hippy line at him sleeping over.

Which was fine.

Great even, the Eddie and Steve had never slept better! Sucks to be Robin, who had to call up Nancy Wheeler if she wanted to share.

All this was, was trauma buddies being guy pals who were very comfortable with each other due to said fucking trauma.

Steve used to help Eddie take a piss for fucks sake, and according to literally everyone else involved in the Vecna related mess, this was their fourth go round with supernatural shit.

Chances of it all happening a fifth time seemed kinda high, even if the gate was supposedly closed and the psychotic meat puppet madman six feet underground.

Sharing was caring, and caring was not letting your new buddy you saved fight off monsters alone if they popped back up.

Plus he and Steve spent a huge amount of time together, almost as much time as Steve did with Robin.They were all in each other’s back pockets to the point that Eddie’s band was used to it, with Gareth even starting to make secret lover jokes about it all.

(The dick.)

They were just really good friends dealing with the shit life had dealt them. That was it, that was the whole ass story.

Eddie’s growing gay crisis aside.

So no. It wasn't all the time with Harrington that sent Eddie over the edge. Nor was it the bed sharing, rapidly dropping boundaries, or even the fact that Steve knew where Eddie kept his condoms (An accident Eddie wouldn't ever live down, holy shit.)

No, what sent him into an absolute, hair tearin' meltdown, was the day Steve woke up, rolled over, kissed Eddie right on the lips and then went to make breakfast.

No good morning, no how ya doin.

Steve just left Eddie there, clutching onto the sheets for dear life and mildly terrified he’d just hallucinated the entire encounter.

(Hell, maybe the whole thing was hallucinated.

Maybe he died in the Upside Down and this was some sort of sick version of the afterlife.

Eddie pinched himself, and when that wasn’t enough, bit his own knuckle. Both hurt, which was unfortunate, because death seemed preferable to dealing with life right then.)

Unfortunately for him, Steve did not run back into the room with a myriad of excuses, which meant Eddie had to experience the horrifying ordeal of getting out of bed, putting his clothes on and going into the trailer’s kitchen--because Steve hadn’t even had the decency to wreck Eddie’s life at his own house.

‘What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--’

Heart galloping, Eddie put on his big boy pants--metaphorically and physically--before stepping out into the kitchen and confront his friend.

Who was cooking shirtless, without a care in the world.

It still took him a full thirty seconds to get his mouth to work.

“Hey Stevie? Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

"Hmm?” Steve replied. His eyes were hooded, hair mussed in a way Eddie knew only a few select people had ever seen it.

He looked half asleep, and proved it a second later when he reached twice for the one of the two mugs on the counter and missed entirely.

Eddie swung in, grabbing one and offering it out for Steve to pour coffee into, before swapping it out for the other mug once Steve was done.

Stayed in Steve’s space even as the former jock fussed with adding in milk and sugar and whatever else he was feeling, working up the courage to say something.

Anything.

“Uh, the--just now?” Eddie squeaked. He coughed to clear his voice, trying desperately to act normal.

Look normal.

Like he hadn't just been kissed by the guy he had absolute worst crush on.

Steve, bless him, didn’t tease him. Just shoved one of the mugs into Eddie’s hands and kept the other for himself.

Took a nice, slow sip, adam's apple bobbing and Eddie quickly averted his gaze, staring firmly into his coffee.

“What happened?” Steve asked a second later, sounding a touch more clear, and not at all like he was experiencing deep regret, or dodging the question, or even aware of what had happened.

Eddie had two seconds to realize that hell, maybe Steve really didn’t know, before his mouth once betrayed him.

“When you kissed me?” And motherfucker, for once, Eddie wished he would think before he fucking spoke.

(Wayne had always told him he'd come to regret it. He just hadn't thought it'd be like this!)

“Oh.” Steve said, very anticlimatically. “I didn’t realize I did that, sorry.”

Eddie's entire body twitched.

One long shudder, like it was rejecting the very words coming out of Steve's mouth.

“You didn’t,” He tried, voice dry and cracking. He realized his hands were shaking and promptly put his mug down before he dropped it. “You just--what, did that on instinct?”

“...Kinda, yeah.” Steve said and why the hell did he sound entirely unphased!?

Was this some kind of weird jock thing? Did the basketball team all wake up together and kiss each other on the mouth?! Did they think it was some sort of straight--guy haha joke, or fucking--Eddie didn’t even know what, because Eddie was too busy spiraling.

“Steve I’m gay.” He blurted out, mouth now firmly ahead of his brain.

He instantly wanted to take it back.

Grab the words with his hands, and cram it into his mouth.

Maybe Steve was only cool with it if he thought Eddie was straight.

Hell, maybe he fucking did it while sleep walking or something and Eddie was the one being weird about it, or he--fuck, really did imagine it and, and--!

“I know.” Steve told him, interrupting Eddie’s catastrophizing entirely.

“You know?” Eddie stared at him, feeling like the world had fallen out from underneath his feet. “How do you know!?”

He actually had a pretty good idea of how Steve knew, considering they were both friends with Robin, but while Robin was comfortably out to both of them, Eddie was not.

Had not in fact, even confirmed that he was queer to Robin herself, though he’d hinted at it plenty and shared more than one inside joke.

Didn’t think Robin had outed him or anything, but more that, well…

Steve was smarter than the kids made him sound, that’s for damn sure.

“Honestly dude? You’re not subtle.” Steve told him and at least he finally sounded serious.

Like this was a much needed conversation and not some weird tangent Eddie was on.

“The handkerchief, that triangle pin that you and Robin both have, the fact that you once jumped in my pool to get away from Dustin asking about you're dating life."

He rolled one hand in an etc. all gesture, before adding; “Also there was that time you and Robin got absolutely smashed on my dad’s whiskey and argued about who the hottest Rocky Horror actor was.”

Eddie’s mouth sprang open to defend himself, but absolutely nothing came out.

When had they even watched Rocky Horror together!?

“You kept insisting the guy who played Brad was hotter than the one who played Rocky, remember? I thought Robin was going to strangle you because she like, adores Susan Sarandon.” Steve continued, like they were having one of their playful little spats and not--not discussing Steve kissing him!

“You guys asked me to tie-break,” He added slowly, like he was trying to jog Eddie’s memory. “and I told you guys I thought both were hot.”

Which--oh.

Oh.

“Okay so you’re…?”

Not going to kill me is what Eddie intended to say, but Steve took it as another question entirely, and answered with a nod and a hum.

Which--okay.

Steve Harrington was bisexual, and also already thought he’d come out to Eddie.

He could roll with that.

That was not the problem, at all.

The problem was; “That doesn’t explain the kiss though?!”

Steve finally put his coffee down, huffing out exasperatedly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t realize I did it, man. We share a bed a lot and I guess I wasn’t--I must have--”

And now, finally, Steve was getting embarrassed. A red flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck, vivid even on his tan skin.

He ran a hand through his hair, and Eddie knew purely from the sheer amount of time they spent together that it was a self-soothing action.

“I guess I’m sorry?”

It came out less as a question and more as an accusation-- which Steve himself seemed to hear because he immediately corrected it with a far less sassy and much more sincere; “No I am--I’m sorry.”

None of which answered why Steve had kissed him.

“You didn’t think I was Nance, did you?” Eddie asked, because apparently he just couldn't stop while he was ahead.

Maybe he should have died. It'd be better for both of them, considering he was doing about as good as kicking Steve while he was down.

Steve, the guy who had saved Eddie's life and was now one of his best friends and here Eddie was, dragging this out of him like a moron.

“No.” Steve said immediately. Reflexively, almost, firm and sure. “I am very aware you’re not Nancy.”

‘Let it go Eddie. Don’t make it weird Eddie. Just laugh it off and say okay--’

“Then who did you think it was? I mean you said it was instincts and like, I'm not stupid. I know I can be confused for Nance in the low light, it's happened before but--"

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“I didn’t think. I knew it was you." Steve interrupted. "I knew I was kissing you, Eddie."

Oh god, just kill him now.

Hell he'd even take a Vecna death! With all the gross gore and the shitty villain monologue!

"This morning I was tired, and I was sleepy, and I apparently skipped the part in my head were I asked you out and we were dating.” Steve deadpanned at him.

Eddie gaped, mind shattered and rapidly reforming.

It was like the universe was recreating itself, only this time all the stars had aligned and his wish had come true and some Disney director had taken control of his life--

“But I get it if I’m not your type." Steve was saying, because Steve was perfect.

And Kind.

And wanted to date Eddie.

"I’m sorry if I made things uncomf-mmphhh!”

‘Mmmph’ because Eddie had flung himself at Steve, face first, the second "I asked you out and we were dating" had finished processing.

(Which was alarming fast, considering he'd been struggling all morning.)

‘D--ff--ing?”

Steve laughed in his mouth as Eddie tried to talk while kissing, pulling away slightly and holding his chest back with a hand when Eddie tried to chase him anyway.

“Yes, dating. As in, would you, Eddie Munson, like to go on a date with me, Steve Harrington?”

“Yes.” Eddie’s mouth said.

At least this time it and his brain were on the same wavelength.

“Yes I very much would.” He put some weight into his lean, making it harder for Steve to hold him back. “I think you can tell, by the way I'm trying to kiss you. Which you are not doing."

He pouted, and refused to be embarrassed about his behavior.

Steve laughed, and he might have said something like “God you changed up fast” except he had given in and let Eddie close again, and his words were now being swallowed down.

Eddie's life was weird alright, and now it was weird even by his own standards, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

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belokhvostikova · 6 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge.

Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust.

It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.

“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone.

“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man.

“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard.

Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”

That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.

“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.

“Nothing!”

“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”

Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance.

“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”

Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education.

How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery.

Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go.

“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear.

And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors.

There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!

“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!

“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”

Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.

“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.

It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?

Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong.

“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.

His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”

Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses.

“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”

“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him.

“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.

“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair.

They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him.

So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped.

“What?” You looked around confused.

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch.

He was right.

Robin Buckley confirmed it next.

That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure.

During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent.

In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”

“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.

“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”

“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”

“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”

“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”

“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency.

“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder.

Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you.

Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary.

Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying.

You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you.

With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.”

“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”

Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.

By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off.

So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.

Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”

“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed.

Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.

“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity.

“What plan?” Robin interjected.

“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed.

“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face.

“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty.

“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”

“Ha!”

“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege.

“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her.

Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.

“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire.

Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.”

Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”

“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”

“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”

“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”

Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”

“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”

Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized.

“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.

Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”

“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”

Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.”

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!”

In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead.

“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips.

“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.

And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.

“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited.

“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”

“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.”

Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment.

“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further.

So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!

“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over. “You’ve been, uh, working out?”

Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”

“Uh-”

“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.”

Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”

Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye.

Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”

His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”

“Five!”

That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over.

Steve Harrington confirmed it next.

And maybe was a little asshole about it.

Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager.

And who would want that?

“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you.

Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take.

Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough.

“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using.

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”

“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.”

Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”

“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked.

“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions.

But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?”

And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere.

As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-

But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!

He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…

Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”

Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”

“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.

Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night.

Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled.

“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”

“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”

“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration.

“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”

“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair.

“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.”

Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day.

This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love.

A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless.

“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth.

“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-

“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie.

On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.

The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”

The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make.

“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.

His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars.

But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body.

“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds.

With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face.

“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips.

His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”

You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”

Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you.

God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.

Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?”

Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.”

His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”

The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”

Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.

“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world.

“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”

“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”

Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”

A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.

Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.”

The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter.

“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself.

“What?” Robin prodded.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes.

Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”

“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued.

“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it.

Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”

Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined.

Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events.

“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?”

Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes.

“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face.

“Okay, so?”

“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.

Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense.

“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink.

She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.”

Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.”

“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out.

“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.”

Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out.

“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.”

Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”

“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer.

As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.”

Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.”

“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.”

There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington.

“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment.

Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.

Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”

Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!”

You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!

“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted.

You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter.

Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?”

“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!”

Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…”

“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!”

“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to.

Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle.

Who the hell were you two fooling?

But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift.

Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses.

“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”

“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed.

At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?”

Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”

Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed.

Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness.

“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece.

Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies.

“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend.

But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call.

Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered.

Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?”

Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder.

“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock.

Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend.

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird.

“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross.

Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.

Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!”

Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”

“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!”

Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”

“What?!”

“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!

She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned.

“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.

“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!”

Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need.

Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand.

It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird.

“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work.

“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!

“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended.

Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!”

The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work.

In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!”

Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”

“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call.

“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”

A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”

Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?!

But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested.

Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth.

Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell.

Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man.

“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around.

“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers.

Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed.

Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night.

“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date.

“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).

Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion.

“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled.

“Huh?” Dustin asked.

Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!”

“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.”

On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”

Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern.

You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place.

Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”

“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!”

His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”

Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel.

You make him feel such incredible things.

“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom.

Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”

Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing.

And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her.

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.”

As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side.

“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay.

The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.

But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.”

“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”

Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back.

Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face.

But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin.

“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared.

Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in.

“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged.

“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!

Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.” He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled.

You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”

Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing.

A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”

“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!”

Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”

“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along.

“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”

Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”

“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed.

“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.

Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”

“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat.

Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.

Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”

Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.”

Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”

And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”

“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along.

“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion.

“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!”

“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.”

His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.

That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed.

Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused.

“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!”

Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.”

“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos.

“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was.

“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room.

“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.”

Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked.

But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”

You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.”

You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!”

Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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brie-annwyl · 6 months

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Fic idea things <3

Jason coming back to get revenge and seeing Bruce at his grave, talking to his headstone saying things like “you have a wonderful new brother, his name is Tim. I think you would’ve loved him.” And “Never tell Dick, but you were and probably always will be my favourite, Jay.” And Jason realizes oh fuck, I’m not ready for this emotional moment and I don’t even want revenge anymore. So he just continues to be Red Hood and sticks to crime alley until the Bats (Bruce, Tim, Dick, etc) get kidnapped and he’s like, oh fuck, now I HAVE to deal with this emotional bs.

Bruce just immediately hugging Jason after he finds out his identity. Even if it’s dangerous for him to do so (Jason pointing a gun at him).

Jason’s reason for wanting to kill the Joker having nothing to do with revenge, the reality of the situation is Jason has borderline debilitating insomnia because he’s so terrified he’ll wake up back in that warehouse or the Joker will find him whilst he’s asleep.

Bruce originally not wanting Tim as his new Robin because he reminded him so much of Jason. To the point where he caught himself almost calling him Jason on multiple occasions. That’s why it took so long for them to be close.

Dick accidentally calling Tim - Jason after Jason beats the shit out of him.

Jason and Tim knowing each other before Jason dies. Jason knew Tim’s parents weren’t caring for him properly and wanted Bruce to adopt him but he didn’t get the chance to tell Bruce about Tim when he was alive.

Jason getting dosed in fear toxin and getting hallucinations of Willis whilst the other bats are around.

Bruce getting dosed in fear toxin and hallucinates burying Jason again.

Jason is always freezing bc of the whole dying thing and needs other people to keep warm, but Jason’s a stubborn bitch and it’s the middle of winter.

#jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batfam #batfamily #batman #red hood #red robin #nightwing #i’m so tempted #so tempted to make a fic for that last one #make like a 5+1 oneshot thing #’five times Jason needed physical touch and the one time he wanted it’#and the last one is like giving Bruce a hug #or family cuddles

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trensu · 9 months

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Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants.

The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.

“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.

“Uh…a good one?”

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.

They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.

Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.

"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration.

Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.

"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"

"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."

Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.

"That's weird," Dustin said.

"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.

"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.

"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."

"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."

"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.

"Guys! Guys, what about my..."

The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.

"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."

Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.

"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.

Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."

"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."

It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.

The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.

It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.

By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.

He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.

His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.

"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.

"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."

Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.

"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."

Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.

Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.

When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.

“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.

“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me.

“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it.

“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”

There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.

–

Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.

Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.

A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond.

Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.

“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second!”

“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.

“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.

“I’m not a lord.”

“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”

“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”

The man laughed at him outright.

“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”

Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.

“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”

“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”

“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”

“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”

“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”

“You’re wrong.”

“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.”

“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.

“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”

“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”

“Kind of.”

“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”

“Your god is the King of Dark–”

“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”

The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.

“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.

“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”

The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

–

It happened again.

now with an additional snippet here and here

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

#trensu tells stories #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #i don't even know what to call this #it's an idea i'm playing with but i don't know how well it works #if you're curious about the setting so am i!#if you figure it out do me a favor and tell me what it is #i have more written but it's not done #i'm hoping to post it as a oneshot on ao3 when i finish it #IF i finish it #we'll see i guess #ETA #came up with a title/tag for this #stasis in darkness

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kennahjune · 3 months

Text

Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷

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sleepyangelkami · 6 days

Text

WITHOUT HESITATION j.todd

☆ WORD COUNT - 3K

JASON TODD X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - jason, almost too late, realises that you're in immediate danger. when he finds you and your sister in a flipped car rigged to blow, he makes the impending decision to save you and not her, without hesitation.

☆ WARNINGS - blood, gore, injury, explosions, car crash, arguing, worry/anxiety, the joker, mention of alcohol consumption, main character death (not j. or r.), grief, crying, (6) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

jason had realised much too late what was going on.

his head had been torn while working on the case with dick. what was joker going to do next, who was the target? after all, he never did go out without a bang. and he was getting closer and closer to the people they loved.

it was just a matter of time.

he had to admit, during all of this he'd managed to push you away. unintentionally, of course. you two were getting into it almost every day now. though he had to agree that it was his own doing and not yours. he'd snap, you'd merely stare, wondering what was wrong with him.

didn't you see? by the end of the week, joker would have gotham painted red if they didn't figure out his next move soon enough.

this was why jason was thankful your sister had come for the weekend to take you away. your sister, ashley, worked a long while away from gotham and it wasn't often that she came to see you. when she did, she turned her nose up at the sight. she never was a lover of gotham.

jason supposed, neither were you.

but as much as you hated the crime that circled gotham, the dirt on the street, the injustice of the entire city, you still loved it dearly. it was where you'd grown up and you just couldn't bring yourself to leave. so, you got a paying job, lived in the smallest of apartments where you spent most of your time with your lover. and if you and jason weren't there, you were spending time at the manor, wrapped up in jason's black sheets while he recited the books that lay on his night stand.

the trip ashley was taking you to would last a total of two days, the friday she came and the saturday after. you wouldn't be heading home until that sunday evening.

he hoped by then that he would have the case sorted out and it was safe enough for you to come home.

often times, he wondered what he was doing as red hood. perhaps it wasn't worth it anymore, would it be better to just let it all go? batman and nightwing could save gotham. he and you could live a normal, mundane, happy life. then he'd look at you in the midst of reading, glancing down at your closed eyes and pretty pouty lips. then, he'd be reminded of why he did what he did. to make gotham a better place for you and one day, for his family.

"you all set?" he questioned, shutting the trunk after lifting all your bags into the car. you'd told him you could do it yourself but he only insisted. he'd done enough to you in the past few days, you deserved this at least.

"yes." you grinned up at him, sweet as ever. even in he midst of chaos, you were the sweetest he'd ever seen. "apex grove awaits us!" you glanced to your sister who was sat in the car, leaning out the window with an ugly green suncap on her head apex grove written in yellow writing.

"it's gonna be the best weekend ever!" she was whooping in the car causing you to giggle at her antics. it would be the best weekend ever, for her, that was if she remembered any of it after she got shitfaced two nights in a row.

jason was not unfamilliar to your sister's drinking habits. but he thought what harm, it wasn't as if you were stupid enough to get dragged into it too. "you have fun, okay? not too much fun."

you listened to him huff out a laugh. "i will." before moving forward to let your head fall on his chest. hugging jason was what you assumed hugging clouds felt like. though you'd never experience it, you could still dream. "'m gonna miss you." you mumbled, only loud enough for the man to hear.

even during arguments, you were the only one that truly saw him.

you never blamed him for his short temper or his aggrivation he felt during cases like these. you only moved with caution, letting him know you were there. you were something he would be eternally grateful for.

"i'll miss you too, sweetheart." he mumbled back, pretty eyes glowing in the little sunlight that gotham got.

"bleh!" your sister yelled, rolling her eyes. "come on, y/n! we're gonna be late for the dinner reservation!"

"okay, bye." you reached up, kissing him on the lips ever so gently. "love you."

"love you too." watching as you made your way towards the passenger seat giddily. "take care of her!" placing his hands on his hips as though he were a mother.

"bye jason!" your sister only yelled back in response causing his brows to crease even further. was she trying to make him go grey in his prime? nevertheless, he waved towards your window until your sister's range rover left through the wayne manor's gates.

while watching them close on the way out, he felt a certain tightness in his chest. worry. he worried for you, worried that something would happen to you while you were gone. then he reassured himself that here was where the trouble was. if anything, he should be thankful you were anywhere but here.

you'd given jason a key to your apartment. you'd always insisted he'd take one anyway but he never did, you soon learned that was because he sort of liked coming through your window, grin on his face as you jumped sheepishly with a fright.

now, however, the key was forced into his back pocket.

you'd told him he'd better stay at yours for at least the nights, reassuring him that this whole joker business would get sorted out as it always did. you told him that whatever he was to do, he was at least to get sleep in your apartment and not stay cooped up in the manor wondering where joker will land next.

and he really wanted to make you happy, truly.

but it was now sunday and they were no closer than they were before.

bruce was injured, heavily so, from the joker's last attack. alfred had all but bedbound him, forcing him onto the lush mattress that costs more than your apartment complex put together.

so for the most part, it was just dick and jason on this one. tim was away and damian wasn't trusted on something so severe without the guidance of bruce.

alfred popped in once or twice to deliver food and assure that they were getting the rest and nutrition that they needed.

however, all the brothers could do was think the entire events over and look for clues. "three wheels on fire." dick's hands were clasped in his lap while he sat by the computers. "that's what he said, why didn't he show?"

the men had thought for sure that the joker would have struck at the fun fair. gotham was throwing one and there happened to be exactly three ferris wheels. "i don't know." leaning his face onto his hand that was propped onto the table. a map lay atop it. "maybe it was to throw us off his trail?"

"no chance!" dick quickly shut him down as he stood, pacing the cave. "maybe something went wrong. maybe he messed up. three wheels on fire, i mean, that was his chance! what else could he have been talking about." seconds passed before dick practically had a light bulb appear over his head. "a car? three cars?"

"that could be any three cars." jason waved him off. "how on earth would we figure out who? besides, three random civilians? don't you think it's a little too.... theatrical for three civilians?"

dick slumped back into his chair. "the joker does love his theatrics."

and jason had to agree with that. his eyes glanced down to the map, scanning it, until... "dick." his head turned. "hand me that red marker?" doing as he was told, dick handed jason the red marker that he used to scribble little dots against the page.

in confusion, the older boy watched him. he watched as fear suddenly took over his face, draining him to a ghostly while colour. dick hadn't seen jason scared of many things but whatever he had just uncovered... that was enough fear for a lifetime. "talk to me jaybird."

he swallowed thickly, already standing. "everywhere the joker's hit has been in pathway's through towns. every dot on the page is where he hit."

dick shook his head. "no, no, he didn't hit there." bulky finger lingering on the last spot on the page.

"no." he shook his head. "but it's the only dot that would connect the full circle. apex grove. it's where y/n is." the words came out sort of like a whisper, a whisper of pure fear.

"no, no, okay? you can't go off of some silly circle drawing, i mean, how do you know she's even in a car right now?" his hands were on jay's shoulders, trying to keep him steady in all his attempts. but jason's mind had already been clouded by fear and that enough had it made up.

"she's coming home tonight."

"that still doesn't prove anything!"

"dick." his face stern and steady. "if anything happens to her," voice cracking ever so softly. "if anything happens to her, i won't forgive myself."

dick swallowed too, realising perhaps jason was right. and even if he wasn't, was it a situation he was willing to put your life on the line for? "okay, let's go."

"it's so dark." you giggled, glancing out the window. you were... tispy, you could say. thing is, you'd been the sober one for friday and saturday night so ashley decided you were going to drink at least one night so she decided why not now, it wasn't as if you had to drive back to gotham, she had that handled.

"yeah." she chuckled. "tends to happen when the sun goes down." you hummed, sitting back up. you weren't exactly drunk, everything was just buzzing a little. "i didn't wanna ask because i didn't wanna ruin the whole night or anything but what was going on with you and jason?"

"what do you mean?" you questioned, turning your head to her while laying it against the seat. tiredness consumed you whole and while you'd loved this little getaway with your sister, you were thankful to be sleeping in your apartment bed tonight.

she shrugged her shoulders, eyes set on the dark road ahead. "i don't know, thought there was a little tension or something."

"we had a little fight." you admitted, absentmindedly gazing out the window. "but it's okay, all couples fight, right?" you couldn't tell her why you'd fought because that would include telling her about the fact that he worked with batman against the joker and that didn't seem like a great way to tell her.

"oh yeah, you should see me and theo." theo was her husband, the father to her kid, teddy, it was supposed to be sort of like theo but you didn't know if that was how it actually sounded. "we fight all the time."

"but you love him." you added.

"oh yeah, to bits." grinning and for a split second, glancing at you. "and as a girl in love, i can tell when other people are in love. and you and jason are just... soulmates." you huffed out a little laugh. "no, seriously, i've never seen two people so in love. i mean, all through highschool, i really thought you were gonna end up a crazy old cat lady."

"i do like cats."

"mm, always did."

BANG !

jason swore he broke every speed limit known to man, he didn't care. he couldn't care. dick waited until the motorbike slowed to a stop.

the men discarded the vehicles before stepping onto the road, staring in shock.

in the darkness of the night, a range rover could be made out, lights still on, though it appeared only one was working. it had been flipped on it's backside, one wheel discarded on the other side of the road. what had hit them? jason had no idea but what he did know was that there was a kind of ringing in his ear, fear.

"is that them, jason?!" it wasn't the first time dick had yelled out the question.

though his voice suddenly brought him back to life, his brows knitted. "the car's not on fire." he mumbled, confused. "dick, the car isn't on fire."

"oh shit." instinctively taking a step back. "it's gonna blow up."

the words should have registered in jason's mind to get the fuck out of there. instead, he ran towards the car.

he heard the faint yell of "jason!" from behind him. but there was only one thing on jason's mind as of now. and that was you.

he found you quick enough, popping off the door with his strength instead of wasting any more time. he could see you flipped in the passenger seat, your sister next to you. even when blood dripped from your forehead and your nose, gash against your hairline, you looked almost peaceful, as if you were only sleeping.

it caused genuine fear in him. jason swore he'd never been so scared.

knowing that at any moment the car could explode, he grabbed your limp body with ease, carrying it until you were a safe enough distance from the car and setting you down on the ground.

"y/n? baby, can you hear me?" dick watched as his baby brother held his limp girlfriend in his arms. "y/n, wake up. wake up!" as if in some distant world, you'd heard him, your eyes slowly peeled themselves awake. "there you are, there you are, huh?" though a laugh emitted his mouth, there were tears in the corner of your boyfriends eyes.

confusion washed over you, eyes hazy. "where am i?" but before you could receive an answer, everything came flooding back and you began sitting up, turning your head. "where's ashley?"

you were leaning on your arm, the other had a wound soaking through your shirt.

the men didn't respond, glancing to one another. going in there meant risking their lives. and sure, they risked their lives every day for the people of gotham but that car could blow at any minute. "where is she?" you practically cried, eyes turning to the flipped car behind jason. "she's still in there?!"

"y/n, listen―"

you cut dick off, trying to stand. "no! no! i have to get her!"

jason held you though it didn't take much, your body already weak. "sweetheart, the car is gonna blow, we can't risk you―"

"i have to save her! get off!" as much as you tried to writhe against him, it worked at no avail. "jason, get off me! jason!" dick's heart pained as jason's hand soothed the back of your head, pushing it against his shoulder.

BANG !

you swore you screamed, you heard a scream, you think. it was all really hard to remember. you clawed at jason, crying into his redhood suit shoulder, sobbing horrendously as you watched the car that held your sister burst into flames.

jason held you, not uttering a word and watching dick flee the scene, most likely in suit of finding the joker. he could only hold you close, listening you scream the word 'no' on repeat.

"i know, i know." he swore he could feel his own eyes muddling with the same glassy tears that yours were covered with. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

at some point, you turned your eyes away from the explosion, face in jason's chest. you no longer fought against him, crying so loudly as he held your wrists against him, trying everything in his will to pick the pieces of you up. but in some way, he felt as though he'd caused them.

"she's gone." you sobbed out violently against him. "she's gone." the words repeated in your brain. you'd lost many people to gotham but never did you think you'd lose her, anyone but her.

"baby, you're bleeding." blood covered your hands and his, practically dripping down your face. "we need to get you to a hospital."

but you were beyond the point of caring, blubbering with few whimpers between. all you could think was your pretty sister, a husband and a kid, burned away in an explosion. she was gone and she was not coming back. "i- i can't." hyperventilating out the words. "i can't l-leave."

"i got you." you felt him help you off the stone ground, your knees weak. though nothing really registered, a ringing in your ears. even hours later, he kept repeating the same words. "i got you. i got you." sitting on the hospital bed next to you while you sat with a sullen look in your eyes. you were far away, that much was obvious but no longer stained with the vicious blood.

"she's gone." it came out much calmer now, though tears still coated your glassy red eyes. "why didn't you take her and not me?" though it was a stupid question.

even in your clouded mind you knew that if he could do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing.

"i had to save you." he answered.

when he saw you were in that flipped over car, knowing there was a chance he could have blown up with you, he took it anyway, grabbing your limp body without hesitation.

he'd rather die than let something happen to you.

and in this case, he'd rather let someone else die than any harm to come to you. and that was simply something he wasn't afraid to admit.

he could lose. he had lost. he lost almost everything from his family to the world around him. but he couldn't lose you. no, anything but you.

main masterlist/jason's masterlist

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oneshots-heaven · 3 months

Text

THE MOTEL ROOM.

From the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives and motivations who yet want the same out of life.

Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses — but it all ends in the same motel room.

A three-part series set Pre-Titans in Gotham City, which will contain mature content and is not suitable under the age of 18.

PART ONE: "The Begin" PART TWO: "The Middle" PART THREE: "The End"

Coming soon.

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millyhelp · 3 months

Text

It all fell Down.

Jason todd x reader

warnings: mentions of death, blood, sad jason. read at your own risk. Angst shit.

Notes: I cried writing this. good luck. and yes, I wrote a super cute smut a few hours ago and now this puddle of sadness. Maybe I should continue?

please comment.

"Stay with me, stay with me..." Jason's fingers passed over your face affectionately. Thick tears of fear left his face.

You were bleeding. Your wound was deep, a bullet hit you.

It was supposed to be the perfect day. Your wedding. Your white dress was now red across the entire length of your chest. Jason's white suit blouse was in the same situation.

You lost blood quickly.

"It's okay." Your voice was weak and you coughed. The bullet hole had pierced one of your lungs, making blood fill it.

"There's nothing okay. Just stay with me, okay?" Jason sobbed and held you tightly against him. "Don't leave me..."

"I won't. I'm with you, right there." You placed your hand on Jason’s heart. His voice was low. Your lips were turning purple. "Jay..."

"Don't talk, save your breath. Look at me, please" Jason had never cried so much in his life. "Where's the fucking help?!"

Jason shouted, his voice broken by crying. The entire Batfamily was trying hard to control the chaos that was happening. No one had understood where the attacks came from.

"Jay..." You called him again. his eyes were heavy. You knew you couldn't take it anymore. "I love you..."

"Don't! Don't say that!" Jason shook his head. Childish sobs left his lips. "Don't do this with me!"

"Kiss me..." your blood-stained hand went towards Jason's face.

Jason would deny it. But he couldn't. Inside him he knew his end was coming. He was just being selfish.

His lips kissed you with tenderness and pain. Fear. afraid to lose you

Your lips were cold. A heavy sigh left your lips. Your heart stopped.

A scream of pain left Jason's lips.

"No! No! NO!" Heavy tears were left, loud sobs and screams. "DONT LEAVE ME! No..."

Jason shook your freezing body.

"Wake up! come on! wake up!" Jason caressed your face "My love, my princess. Come on, you have to wake up. Let's get married."

Jason went into a state of delirium. He wouldn't accept it. No. The only one who loves him the way he is, the only one who wasn't afraid of him. You were just sleeping.

"You chose such a beautiful dress for me, huh?" Jason's voice was broken. The tears didn't stop falling. "I can't wait to fill our house with kids. We want three, remember?"

Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian had managed to stop the attack. They did not identify who sent the shooters. But that didn't matter now.

A tear left Barbara's eyes when she saw Jason kneeling on the floor with you in his arms.

Dick, Tim and Damian knelt in respect.

Little Damian let a few small tears fall. Tears that no one thought he would ever drop.

Bruce walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Jason..." Jason ignored him and continued talking to you.

"Come on love, wake up. I promised to take you to London! We have to catch the plane in a few hours!"

"Jason." Bruce spoke more firmly.

"You're going to love Paris! You told me it was your dream to see that big tower! My French is terrible, by the way!"

"Jason!" It was Barbara's turn to call him.

Jason looked at her. Barbara shook her head.

Jason didn't want to believe it yet. He ignored her.

"Jason! She died!" Damian's voice was loud and tearful. Broken.

"No... not for me..."

For Jason it was just a nightmare that for him, he would wake up like every other time. But this time, it wasn't a dream.

you were gone. you died.

and Jason can't save you.

#jason todd #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd oneshot #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd robin #i just love jason #jasontodd #dark jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd blurb

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 26 days

Text

academic rivals d.g.

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Some injuries.

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: Full discretion this idea was given to me by an anon and even though I said I wasn't taking requests I just couldn't resist.

Also @writing2sirvive I hope you find this offer acceptable after not writing for our baby for so long 😭😭

There was always a slight pinch of anxiety when your teacher went around the class, handing back your test papers after grading them and you waited with slightly bated breath, a fist clutching the fabric of your uniform.

Even though you knew you had done well on the exam, you were particularly unnerved by her declaration before distributing the stack of papers that only one person had managed to get a perfect score.

You kept your eyes trained on your desk, waiting for someone behind you to exclaim that they had gotten a 100% but it never came. Not until your teacher had placed your paper in front of you with a soft 'Good job'.

You beamed, barely able to contain your excitement as you waited for the bell to ring.

Of course, you were over the moon that you got a 100. And that you were the only person in the entire class that managed to get one.

But secretly, you were more elated by the fact that someone else didn't.

"Aw, what's wrong Grayson? Your daddy finally run out of money to bribe your teachers with?" You snarked as soon as you caught a glance of the 93 written in red at the top of his paper.

"Sub-par insult, (L/N)." He said flatly.

"I disagree, nothing about me is sub-par, as you can clearly see." A sly grin on your face as you waved your paper with '100' in his face. He rolled his eyes so far back you couldn't resist making a comment, "Roll your eyes as hard as you want, Grayson, you won't be able to find a brain back there."

His friend, Barbara, who was sitting beside him chuckled at this and he turned to her with an irritated glare, "Can I help you?"

She gave him a teasing smile, unnerved by his annoyance toward her, "Oh, nothing, I'm just eagerly waiting for the day you both stop pretending you hate each other and start dating."

It seemed like her comment had just the effect she had wanted when Dick choked on his spit in his haste to argue that even if you were the last person on Earth, he wouldn't go near you with a 10-foot-pole.

"I'm not too happy to agree with you, Grayson but I, very fortunately, have a boyfriend."

His face twisted, "Gross, who'd wanna date you?"

You gave him a fake smile, "Hopefully, not you."

***

"Recognized: Domino, B-08."

You squealed in joy the second the light faded from your eyes, gaze landing on your boyfriend who stood right outside the zeta tube with a giant smile on his face.

You threw your arms around Robin's neck with a giggle, peppering his lips with smiley kisses that he so enthusiastically returned, his arms snug around your waist.

"Do you guys have to do this every time?" Came Conner's unimpressed voice as he shuffled uncomfortably around the two of you making out, "Can you at least stop doing it in the middle of the entrance? People are trying to get places."

You pulled away with a soft blush, smiling at the sight of your sparkly lip gloss on Robin's mouth and his slightly dazed expression. There was nothing like your kisses that was able to knock the vigilante's world off its axis and it had been this way ever since you started dating 10 months ago.

The pair of you were still very much in the honeymoon phase, much to the chagrin of your teammates, who have walked in on you many times while your lips were practically glued to each other.

"How was your day?" Robin finally asked when you had each gotten your fair share of kisses, leading you to the kitchen for a snack before the mission briefing and you beamed, "Amazing! I got a perfect score on that test from last week!"

He raised a brow, "The one that you skipped a date to study for?"

Smiling, you nodded, "The very one."

He sighed, taking a box out of the fridge, "See? I told you that you'd do great! You probably didn't even need to skip our date."

You rolled your eyes, giggling at his pout that you were all too quick to kiss away, "Hey now, I made it up to you, didn't I?"

Nodding, he pushed the box further toward you with a smile, "You did. Which is why I got you this, but I guess it could be for a job well done too."

You gasped when you saw the squiggles of the familiar logo of your favourite bakery on the top of the box and eagerly opened it up, completely missing the fact that it had been sealed with tape and nearly ripping the carboard to shreds in order to get to the treats inside.

The smell of the strawberry shortcake and red velvet cupcake had you salivating, and you wasted to time before digging in.

"Ugh, I love you." You moaned, nearly dissolving into the symphony of flavours and Robin chuckled swiping some of the cream cheese frosting off your cheek before licking it off his thumb, "Are you talking to me or the cupcake?"

You paused, glancing up at him from the cupcake wrapper, "I can love more than one thing."

His affectionate gaze had you melting, forgetting the delicious treat for a second, "Thank you for the gift, I really love it."

Robin happily accepted the sugary kiss you had given him, "Well, I figured, since it had been a while since we had a date in Gotham, you'd be craving it."

You only took another bite of the cupcake to hide your guilty wince. While the list of details you didn't know about your boyfriend was limitless, starting with his name and ending with literally anything else, you felt guilty that he somehow knew even less about you.

At least you knew what city he lived in while he was under the impression that you lived in Star City with Dinah, your mentor. You really thought he wouldn't buy it, especially after he didn't believe Artemis the first time.

But nearly a year after joining the team it would seem that he was still blissfully unaware, and you were planning to reveal your identity to him soon enough. You were firm that you wouldn't be celebrating your one-year anniversary without knowing each other's names at least.

At least once he found out you were living in the same city, you'd be able to have more frequent dates.

"Team to mission room." You heard over the PA, and you grabbed the box with you to the meet Batman and Canary along with the team, unwilling to leave your precious strawberry shortcake at the hands of Wally. This way you'd be able to dislocate his shoulder the second he put his hands on your things.

When you entered the room to find a face that you recognized on the holoscreen, you paused and glanced at Artemis who shrugged in response.

"Leo 'The Lion' Stark, the leader of the cult that was kidnapping young girls was officially incarcerated this morning."

Cheers erupted around the room, and you passed the box in your hands to your boyfriend to high-five Artemis and bring her into a hug. Black Canary patted the both of you on the shoulder, "Job well done on this mission, you two."

The mission that led to his arrest had been an undercover op with both you and Artemis posing as the girls from the private school that was being targeted. Eventually, you were able to find the leader and put a stop to his entire organization.

You had never seen Robin more fearful for your life than during this mission and it was after it that you had said your first I love you's.

"Today's mission is a covert op. For stealth, I will only be sending two members of the team: Robin and Domino."

Robin sent you a smile and you squeezed your interlocked fingers underneath the table.

"If they can stop kissing long enough to actually get the mission done." Conner grumbled underneath his breath and was rewarded with a swift kick to the knee.

***

It happened too quickly.

Everything was going fine. The mission was well underway, and you had observed them long enough to know where they were keeping their illegal servers. All that was left was to input your program that would upload all their data wirelessly so it could be accessed by the league.

Then it all went wrong, all at once.

You don't even remember much of what happened. All you knew is that when you had least expected it, someone had snuck up on you and you had felt your stomach squeeze with a painful terror that you hadn't experienced in a long time upon being caught off-guard.

"The Lion sends his greetings."

What followed was a series of excruciating shocks up your body that had your heartbeat ceasing in your chest and the movement of every single muscle came to a standstill such that you couldn't even make a sound come out of your throat.

You didn't even have the time to think about anything before you lost consciousness, the last thought flashing through your head being your worry for Robin.

And then every single pulse in your head came to an abrupt end.

“Come on hero, come on!” Robin panted as he continued to pump his hands against your chest, counting down the beats in his head to the compressions, “Baby please, please wake up!”

He was in tears, even though he tried to control them, but he had been looking at your unconscious face for the last 30 minutes as he continuously tried to revive you. His stomach was in knots and his chest felt like it was on fire, but he still didn’t quit, he wouldn’t until he passed out himself.

Before he could even stop himself, he was sobbing and the wails he let out erased the count he was keeping in his head, “Someone please help! Please help.”

His communicator lay discarded only a couple of feet beside him, but he couldn’t take his hands off you for a second, he couldn’t mess up the beat, he couldn’t stop the chest compressions because you’d die; and he’d die right alongside you.

“Robin, come in. Robin, can you hear me?”

His chest collapsed in a fit of sobs as soon as he heard the sound of his mentor come through from the communicator. The device beeped with the sound that alerted him of an override indicating that his mentor could now listen in.

“Batman help! She’s not breathing! I don't think she has a pulse! I’m trying to do CPR but she’s not awaking up! Please help!”

“Hang in there, Robin. Someone will be there in five.”

***

"She's alive but her brain was deprived of oxygen for a while so we can't accurately put a time frame on when she could wake up." Batman explained, his voice as stiff as concrete like always but the hand he placed on his ward's shoulder was warm and comforting.

There were so many questions rushing through Robin's head, but he kept silent because a part of him already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time he had seen something like this, while being Robin he had seen countless families, parents, spouses, receive the same news.

The distraught questions would usually follow: would take months? years? is there a chance that she could never wake up? is there anything he could do?

He wanted to ask Batman anyway, he wanted Batman to lie and say that everything would be okay, that the girl he loved would wake up soon and he just had to wait but he knew better than anyone that was all it would be. Lies.

There were those that were fortunate enough for their loved one to eventually wake up. Others would be forced to watch life go by while their loved ones were imprisoned to a bed with the empty hope that one day they'd wake up.

So, he swallowed down all his questions, Adam's apple bobbing painfully in his throat, "Can I see her?"

His father nodded, leading him to the med-bay with one hand on his back. Robin felt his stomach sink with every step he took, staring sullenly at his sock-clad feet. In his rush to change after the mission so he could get to you as soon as possible, he had thrown on anything he could find.

Which resulted in him being dressed in your sweatpants and his hoodie that you had stolen so often it smelt like you; a combination that both comforted him and broke his heart all at once.

When he saw you from the door, a rush of epiphanies struck through him like lightning to a metal rod. Although, first and foremost, he was just relieved to see you. Even though it hurt him to see you unconscious, and he knew that there was a chance he'd never get to see you awake again, a part of him forgot all about that as soon as he saw you.

He took quick steps toward you, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin against his when he stopped in his tracks once again with wide eyes, realizing you were without your mask.

"Robin?"

"I-I know her. (Y/N) (L/N), s-she's in my class." He stammered, staring at your relaxed features with his mouth hanging open. As odd as it sounded, this was the first time he had ever seen you, as (Y/N), so relaxed.

Whether it was a scowl or even just a grimace, you always seemed to be frowning at him and he never bothered to pay any attention to you outside of classes, when you were talking with your friends. He was sure you'd have a mesmerizing grin, one that would reach your beautiful eyes.

Batman stayed silent behind him, and Dick wondered just how many times Bruce had heard him talking shit about the love of his life, having to keep silent to respect your privacy. His cheeks coloured, remembering the conversation from this morning, where he had claimed that he would never touch you even with a 10-foot pole.

If only he had known that he had been pressed against the same girl so many nights prior.

"Does it matter?" Batman asked, snapping him out of his mortified state where he remembered every single insult he had ever directed at you, either to your face or behind your back.

To anyone else, it would have sounded like a shallow question, but Dick knew his father was concerned about whether his feelings would have changed, whether your identity did matter to him more than your relationship or his love for you.

He swallowed, walking up to your bedside, and gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face and for the first time in his life, he took in all your features. It was startling how quickly his worst enemy became the most beautiful person in the world.

"No, it doesn't."

***

You could see the bright light even though your eyes were shut. There was nothing more you wanted than to slip back into your deep slumber but for some reason your consciousness began trickling back into your head in a gentle stream.

You squirmed, brows pinching together in a frown as you murmured something unintelligible, features twitching until finally your eyes began to flutter open.

"(Y/N)?" You heard and your hand was squeezed by someone you couldn't quite place. Your vision was still quite blurry, and you were extremely disoriented. Still, you tried to blink through the hazy shapes in your sight and you managed to recognize a familiar head of black hair.

"Baby?" You breathed out, sighing in relief when he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "Thank goodness you're okay."

Right before you had lost consciousness, a thought had flashed into your head. Robin would never abandon you there, no matter what had happened to you, if you had died or just lost consciousness.

You worried that in his effort to stick by you, he'd be hurt or worse.

"Me? (Y/N), you were unconscious for two days! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"

If you had been any more conscious, you probably would've been concerned over the way his voice broke in grief and his heartbroken words but in your exhaustion, all you could do was give him a silly smile, wishing your eyes could focus long enough for you to see his beautiful face.

"I'm okay now, I'm okay."

"I didn't think you would be." He confessed, pressing another kiss to your fingertips, holding your hand gingerly but still in a firm grip in between both of his. Like he was scared you'd evaporate and disappear before his eyes.

"I'm okay, baby. Just a little sleepy." You told him, feeling your consciousness slip further and further away as your blinks began to get longer and longer and your strength began to disappear, "You'll be here when I wake up, right?"

He nodded, voice thick with unshed tears even though you couldn't see him, "Yeah. I'll be right here."

***

This time when you woke, you felt much more refreshed than you had before. Your head didn't feel like it was nailed to the pillow anymore, but it felt like you had lead in your veins which was expected considering you had been unconscious for days.

Despite his promise, Robin was nowhere to be found when you finally sat up, stretching your arms as much as you could, careful of the IV in your hand. Your eyes darted around the familiar med-bay, trying to catch a glance of the clock by craning your neck but was ultimately unsuccessful.

Was it a weekday? Was it school hours? Was that why Robin wasn't at your side like you had asked him? What about you? What excuse had Batman given the school to explain your sudden absence? Were your parents aware that you had been injured?

The endless barrage of questions was silenced to a mum when you heard the door slide open and you sighed in relief, noticing the head of black hair first, "I believe you promised to be here when I wo—!"

Dick Grayson was beaming at you and in certain angles of the light, his blue eyes almost looked glossy with tears, but you shook your head unconsciously. Why would he be crying at the sight of you?

'Because you're so ugly the sight is making my eyes water.' Would have been his classic response and you practically rolled your eyes at the thought.

"(Y/N), you're awake!" He took a step closer, and you flinched.

"Stop right there!" He quite literally froze in his steps, he might as well have been encased in ice at the receiving end of your cold glare, "What the hell are you doing here, Grayson?"

He paused and somehow you were annoyed by the dumbfounded look on his face while multiple scenarios ran through your head. A concussion, brain injury or something along that likeness. Perhaps the part of your brain responsible for recognizing faces was damaged and this wasn't actually Dick Grayson. Amnesia, possibly? Maybe you were actually good friends with him but managed to forget it all? Of course, there was always the possibility this was a dream.

Your brow twitched at his lack of response, "I asked you a question."

At your terse tone, it seemed like he was finally able to snap himself out of his stupor, "(Y/N), baby, it's me."

You scowled, "Don't call me that and speak clearly; the hell do you mean by 'me'?"

"Baby," He said again, so firmly that you were silenced in your effort to snap at him again, "It's me."

Dick watched as your face melted from an expression of disgruntled bewilderment to the smallest sliver of recognition. Your eyes raked over his body, only now noticing that he was in short sleeves, and you were able to see the familiar scar on his forearm that belonged to your boyfriend. The little patch of freckles near his elbow that you had traced with your finger so many times before.

Your voice was small when you called him again, "Rob?"

He nodded and your eyes went wide, not quite able to believe it. Your boyfriend stood stiffly, berating himself for not handling this better. He had very quickly gotten over the fact that his girlfriend was his greatest rival in high school while he watched your unconscious face for the past couple of days, waiting for you to wake up.

It had completely slipped his mind that you were still unaware of his identity, and he swallowed nervously. Sure, it was something he could easily put past him but were you the same?

Robin knew you inside and out, he knew how much you loved him, but he didn't know how just much you hated Dick Grayson. Was that hate enough to overpower your love for him?

You stared at him in surprise for only a minute, but it felt like hours to him before you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, "Wow."

"This-This doesn't change anything right?" He began, feeling the lump in his throat grow three sizes larger when you turned to him with an expression that was not a reassuring smile like he had wanted.

"Are you kidding? This changes everything! Barbara is never going to let us hear the end of this. And my friends? Oh, they've hated you ever since that incident during our group presentations." You exclaimed, fingers twitching, and Dick knew it was because you wanted to flail your arms around but couldn't because of the IV.

He bit his lip. You weren't outright rejecting him or anything, but he needed to hear you say it and he needed to hear it as soon as possible.

"No—(Y/N), does this change anything between us?"

You paused, stopping in the middle of your tangent to give him a confused glance, "Between us? No. Why would it?"

And just like that, the tension in his muscles evaporated away and he relaxed, approaching to your side like he wanted to and interlacing your fingers, "I love you."

You finally smiled at him, leaning to kiss his lips, "I love you more, even though you said I was gross and that no one would ever want to date me."

"Well, to be fair you said you'd hope I never did, so I guess we're even."

***

"Hey, stranger." It really didn't make sense that after almost a year of dating, your boyfriend's voice still managed to send shivers down your spine. You closed your locker shut before turning to meet the beautiful blue eyes that you grew to love.

It was scary how quickly you completely rewired your brain into loving every single feature belonging to Dick Grayson.

"Hi, Grayson."

His eyes dipped to your lips for a second, mentally scolding himself for turning to putty the second you said his last name. It was weird how the last time you both were in school together, he thought that the sound of his name coming from your mouth was like nails on a chalkboard.

Now, he felt like he had been blessed just by being in your presence.

"I have all the assignments and notes that you missed the past week." You had been ordered bed rest and some physiotherapy to regain complete mobility after being unconscious for a couple of days. Under your boyfriend's watchful care, he had dutifully nursed you back to health.

You smiled when he handed you the stack of papers even though the heft of it made you want to cry. All this work from just a week? All the AP classes you had been taking in order to compete with your own boyfriend had come back to bite you in the ass.

"Thank you. Can I come over later so you can help me out with it?"

It was really a formality that you were asking because you both knew he was obviously going to say yes. But you figured you'd do the polite thing and ask the first time. After today though his room would practically be yours, just as your room would now be his personal hideout.

"Of course, baby. I've been dying to introduce you to Alfred. We can go back to mine together after school."

You nodded, starting when you heard the bell, "I have Physics." You bemoaned, it being the only class Dick didn't take with you. He had opted for a language instead, which you were beginning to think was more useful than whatever you learnt anyway.

He gave you a smile, eyes twinkling when he slanted his lips over yours in a soft kiss and you had to pull away quickly before you forgot just where you were.

His disappointed pout was all too quick to disappear when you reminded him that you'd be going home with him that day, "I'll see you later."

The two of you parted ways with delirious smiles, feeling too much like you were wafting on cloud nine, completely unbeknownst to the small crowd of people that watching your entire interaction with wide eyes.

Barbara, who was stood at the centre of the flock, smirked, and held out her hand, "Pay up bitches."

***

Bonus:

"I'm surprised you didn't figure out her identity earlier, Dick. Aren't you supposed to be a great detective?" Wally teased and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"It's not that I couldn't find out, I just didn't try."

"How come?"

He spared you a glance and shrugged, "She asked me not to."

"I don't remember you offering me the same consideration." Artemis sniped but he knew it was all in good nature.

"You aren't nearly as pretty." He replied coolly, making you blush.

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

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