#and Jason stops him halfway into it saying he likes someone else

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Cyber Six AU

So Idea, take some aspects of Cyber Six and make it a Danny Phantom in Gotham situation

For those who don’t know, the basic premise is that Cyber Six is the creation of this mad scientist that escaped. She needs a substance that only the bad guy can produce to live and has to fight the creations of the bad guy in order to stop evil plans as well as get the substance. In the comics it’s more of a vampiric feeding. During the day she poses as a male English teacher while hiding her identity from her love interest. The love interest is in love with her as Cyber six, and friends with her as her teacher identity. The whole thing has a lot of trans themes and is totally worth watching the cartoon, but do you see where I’m going with this?

Danny in Gotham, hiding as a teacher by day, and fighting the artificial ghosts Vlad or the GIW send after him by night as Phantom. Gotham doesn’t really have much Ectoplasm, and Danny needs to feed on it. He’d move to a place with more, but Batman is a major deterrent and hiding in Gotham is keeping the people chasing him from coming themselves and risking getting on the Bat’s radar. Luckily, instead of realizing they could starve him out, they send their creations to drag him back, providing a guilt free source of ectoplasm

Danny get’s work at Gotham Academy as one of Tim’s teachers while hiding out. It would be just fine, he has a degree in chemistry and one in engineering. The issue? They gave him an English class, a subject he struggled with in school. Lucky for him while lamenting this fact to a stranger, one Jason Todd, he finds out the other man is a literature nerd and would be happy to go over his curriculum with him. Jason is just happy he has someone to info dump about Jane Austen to while he waits for Tim to get out.

Meanwhile, Red Hood is dealing with the sighting of odd creatures in his territory when he comes across Phantom. The two strike up a friendship while dealing with the threat to Hood’s territory, Phantom gets to feed from the artificial ghost, and so it goes on. 

Jason gets feeling for the mysterious Phantom, While Danny gets feeling for the charming literature nerd Jason. That’s right baby, the love square. They’re in love with their other identities. Meanwhile Tim is dying inside as his teacher is making goo goo eyes at his brother.

[lightwing-s]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐈

pairing: dick grayson x reader; jason todd x reader

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

a/n: we've created a tradition, 2023 ver. here

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃

"You need to kiss someone at midnight!” said one of the girls sitting on the crowded sofa, the group around her, boys and girls halfway drunk on cheap champagne, erupted in screams and laughter, fighting over the validity of certain superstitions and who’d get to kiss who in the group. “The pagans say it’s for good luck.”

The discussion never ceased, getting louder as spirits were running high. Amongst the loud group, you stood out. Sitting quietly with a drink in hand, a beaming smile adorning your face, laughing at whatever what he assumed were your girl friends said, you caught Jason’s eyes. You’d done so from the moment he entered the apartment.

You wore a sparkly outfit, a little black dress full of sequins that reflected the poor lighting of the room but that was still unable to outshine your natural beauty. He watched you attentively, entertained by your joy and enamored with the sound of your laughter. 

Your eyes had met a few times since his arrival, briefly, shyly, sharing quiet smiles and a few winks, a secret interaction you hoped no one else had noticed but you. Not out of embarrassment, but from wanting it to be uniquely yours.

Jason had been under actual spells before, under the uncomfortable power of Ivy’s pollen. This was different, because nothing forced him to look at you, he simply wanted to. He wasn’t a shy man, never backing out of talking with a pretty lady, but tonight he decided to wait, wait for the right moment to reach you, to talk to you, to know your name. He didn’t want to intrude in your moment with your friends, but most importantly, he didn’t want your friends intruding in your moment.

So he waited, sat aside on a dark corner, like a villain in a scary movie, chatting bullshit with a friend he barely knew but who had insisted on him coming to his apartment tonight, as he knew Jason wouldn’t go anywhere else for New Year’s Eve, preferring to sulk in his own solitude for the night.

He didn’t expect anything from tonight, planning to go home after the clock striked 00:00 and the champagne bottles were popped. He certainly did not expect to meet a pretty girl that had him hooked on the first exchange of glances, but he was glad he took his time to come.

A few other girls had come to him, some showing their deep cleavages, others just trying to start a conversation, but they didn’t last long once they realized he only had his eyes out for you.

He noticed your group of friends leave the sofa, entering the kitchen in search of more drinks, but you stayed there, sitting in the same spot you’d been all night, watching your friends disappear into another room. Then, turning your head slowly, your eyes met his, and he took it as his key to finally approach you.

Throwing himself beside you on the sofa, his arm immediately went to its back and you leaned closer, trying to hear him better between all the screaming and the loud music.

“Jason.” he sort of screamed-whispered in your ear, extending his left hand for you to shake.

“Yn.” you took his hand in yours, shaking quickly before returning the hold to your cup.

“Stopped drinking tonight?” he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

“What?!” you screamed, not hearing him clearly.

He came closer to you, the hand that shook yours coming to rest on your tight, and his lips brushing against your neck as he repeated himself into your ear. “I asked if you had stopped drinking tonight.”

“No!” you laughed. “They went looking for vodka, I guess. I’m sticking to champagne tonight.”

“Did you enjoy the bottle they were passing around?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Did you not like it?” you asked in return.

“It’s alright.” he shrugged, leaning back on the sofa and bringing his drink to his lips.

The music softened, a few complaints thrown around, the majority of the people taking this time to fish for more drinks in the kitchen or wherever they were.

Learning against the sofa too, head falling back to rest, your shoulder touched Jason’s and you could feel the electricity running through you.

“Mikey’s friend?” you asked him, trying to understand where this stranger had come from.

“Sorta.” he simply replied.

“Oh! We have ourselves a mysterious man.” you laughed again, and Jason hoped you wouldn’t stop.

“Do you like it? Or you prefer something more… nerdy? Or do you want me to act like a jock from a teen rom com. I can do it all, you know.” if possible, your laughing just got louder, throwing your head back and bringing the smirk back to Jason’s face.

“Nah. I love it.” you answered when your laughing stopped and your breathing had settled. “Makes me want to know more about you.”

The loud bang on a door broke brought your attention away, your friends making their way back to the sofa, full drinks in hand and a bottle of vodka being carried by one of them. Jason saw some eyebrow wiggles at you, teasing smiles and bumps on your shoulder, all of it making your cheeks flush pink and your eyes to divert to the almost empty cup on your hand.

He watched your thumb playing with the lipstick stained glass and your teeth nibble at your bottom lip. He admired your soft makeup, perfectly melting into your skin and not hiding your natural beauty he had come to love. A small stain of lipstick stood on your chin, maybe because of your drinking, and he couldn't hold the urge, his thumb cleaning it away for you.

“Two minutes till New Year’s!” someone announced over the music, the crowd getting excited, people looking for their friends or unopened champagne bottles.

“Do your friends have anyone to kiss at midnight?” Jason asked, and he caught a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes.

“I don’t know.” you replied, eyes wide in question. He only shook his head.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know.” you repeated your previous answers, earning a questioning look from him that made you laugh again a little. “Do I?”

“The thing is, Yn.” he started speaking and turned to face him properly, knees bumping into each other’s. He licked at his lips, and your mind replayed the way he had pronounced your name. He placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips touched your neck, a shiver emanating from there to your entire body. “I’m not a very patient guy. I don’t think I can wait until midnight.”

Leaning in, his lips caught yours as his hands held your waist. The butterflies partied in your stomach, and you leaned further into him, bringing his face closer as you felt his tongue slid inside your mouth.

“It’s not even fucking midnight, Yn!” someone screamed, the room turning to look at you both, but your mind too focused on the kiss to even notice.

His other hand went to your neck, playing with the hairs in there, making you moan into his mouth, the sound making him excited and more eager to continue kissing you. 

At some point, happy new years were exchanged, champagne bottles were popped, other kisses were given along with tight hugs and laughter. Still, Jason’s lips were glued to yours, a perfect dance you did not want to stop.

Going into 2024 with your lips on his wasn’t on Jason New Year’s Eve plans, but he made sure to add them to his resolutions: to kiss you passionately, deeply, for as long as he can, for as long as his breathing allows him, for the entire year if you let him to, because he didn’t believe much in destiny but he was sure it wanted him there, on New Year’s day, sitting on a sofa beside the prettiest girl the room, her lips stuck on his, and a thousand possibilities to turn this moment into the first of many you’d share along 2024.

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

He heard wishes of “happy new year!” as the first fireworks exploded above the sea. Families, friends and couples erupting in joyful bursts of happiness and laughter, celebrating the beginning of the year with hope and excitement.. 

Dick wasn’t one of them. No, tonight wasn’t perfect. Not like it used to feel.

The arms wrapped tightly around his waist certainly didn’t feel perfect, and neither did the head resting on his chest. He watched the fireworks illuminating the night sky, reflecting on the water, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he wondered if you too were watching the scenery.

The guilt was eating at his chest, the words you’d told him earlier still lingering in his mind. There was a lump in his throat, he knew he’d screwed things up, that he ruined your favorite night of the year, your favorite holiday, and consequently, his too. 

It hurt even more now that he recognized that you were not wrong, that you didn’t lie.

“How did you forget to tell me, Dick? Today is New Year’s Eve, we’ve always spent it together.” you reminded him, staring at him through the mirror he fixed his collar on. “Why are you like this, huh? Why do you never put me first, even for one day?” “It’s always like this. You find a new girl, you forget about me. Yn does not exist anymore, and if she does, she’s just your shadow, your umbrella holder while you cozy up to some slut you won’t care anymore in a few months.” “It’s not that important? Fuck you, Dick! Fuck you, fuck you! It was our day, our tradition, to watch the fireworks at the beach together, to make wishes to the stars and countless other traditions we’ve had since we were teenagers… You’ve continuously neglected what I want, put me aside to fulfill your wishes, and I’m always okay, because I fucking love you. But when it comes to me… Forget it. You just made me realize none of this is worth it.”

He still remembered the sound your voice made when you told him you loved him, how it cracked, how your chin trembled and your eyes filled with tears. He had put you aside for countless others when you’d always, always, stood by him. It was your tradition, and he had broken it.

Two hands slid up his chest, coming together behind his neck, forcing him to finally look down, after avoiding it’s presence for as long as he could. “Happy New Year, Dickie.” she said, plump lips painted red, reaching for his, reaching for a kiss, but he couldn’t do it.

No. It wasn’t perfect.

“I’m sorry.” he told the girl, removing her hands from his body. She looked at him confused, as he apologized once more.

Turning on his heel, feeling the sand underneath his feet, Dick ran. Ran somewhere he didn’t know to, somewhere he hoped he’d find you.

He screamed your name, praying you’d hear him and call him back, call his name as you always did when you met him in the crowd. A toothy smile on your lips that reached your eyes, a sight he never realized he loved, that he’d miss if you were gone, too dumb, too much of an idiot, to realize.

He counted all the things you could’ve done already, checking your list of nye’s traditions that never cease to surprise him. Every year you’d bring something new, something fun, and he would follow along and watching you complete each one of them made him happy.

But you always said it wasn’t perfect. That something was missing. Every year, there was this one thing you couldn’t complete but you never told him what it was.

“Yn.” he screamed to the crowd, gaining side looks from some of the people around.

“Dick.” someone called back, but it wasn’t you. “What are you doing?”

“Tim, have you seen Yn?” he asked, almost breathless.

“You didn’t come with her?” he asked in return, eyes jolting out, incredulous of the words leaving his brother's mouth. Dick could only shake his head. “Dude.” he finished disapprovingly.

Tim wasn’t much of a help, not knowing if you were still at the beach, but at least now he was sure you’d come.

Of course you would, he thought. You’d never break a tradition.

He was sure he’d crossed to the other end of the sandy and pretty crowded beach. This year many more people came to enjoy the best “secret” new year’s party in the city, a secret you’d kept for years but that was slowly becoming more popular. 

You hate it. It was our place, I don’t want anyone else in it.

Letting out a chuckle, he remembered you pout as you let those words out. If only he had listened to them then.

He was almost giving up, the number of people diminishing with each step he took further in the sands. The groups fizzled out, just a few here and there now, long ignoring the still ongoing, god knows for how long, firework show, now too focused on drinks and gossip.

But then an oddity caught his eyes.

Someone alone, quietly watching the show of colors in the night. He had found you.

Even at a distance, he could see the colors reflecting in your eyes, watery and enamored as they were every year. You had your hands glued to your body, caressing the cold away as you dared to wear a sleeveless shirt this deep into winter.

He froze. The lump, the tightness in his throat, returning to torture him. He wanted to cry, get on his knees and beg you to forgive him. But he was too scared. Too scared you’d say no, because you should.

“Yn.” he whispered, hoping you wouldn’t hear.

You didn’t. You stayed in the same position, now staring at the moon as the fireworks had stopped, but he knew you’d love to stare at the moon even more.

Slowly, you stared at your feet, toes playing with the sand. Then, to his surprise, you looked to your side. You looked straight at him, he could swear your bore deep within his eyes, and all he could do was stare in return.

“D?” he saw you mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

Your head dipped to the side, and he watched your chin shaking again. His heart started to break, but soon enough, you were running into his arms.

Dick didn’t know that all night, you’d hoped you hadn’t told him anything. That the “I love you” hadn’t slipped out of your mouth, preferring to never have him fully than to never have him at all.

Although your heart was broken, seeing him tonight meant your friendship was not. And you could settle for this. You cried in his chest, tears staining his dress shirt. “Please don’t cry, please, please. I’m so fucking stupid for hurting you.”

His hands held the back of your head, caressing your hairs as you recomposed yourself, He listened to your breathing become steady, your cheek resting on his chest, arms wrapped around his torso. Perfect. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, and you looked up, your chin on his chest. His watery eyes still visible under the moonlight, you dried the tears from under his eyes. “I was stupid, a moron. I didn’t realize what I’d done. I didn’t realize you were the best thing to ever happen to me, and that I was pushing it all away.

“It’s okay,” you replied softly, snuggling back into his chest. “We’ll be alright.”

Breathing deeply, Dick held your face up to meet him again. “Yn…”

“Dick.” you cut him, wanting all this pain to just be over. He smiled at you, thumb drawing patterns on your cheek.

“Did you finish your list?” he inquired.

“No.”

Again, you didn’t. Dick never understood why. “You never told me what was missing.”

Staring deeply into his eyes, you found the courage to finally tell him. “A midnight kiss.”

It caught him by surprise, but it made him see everything clearly.

“Yn.” he called you, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips.

“Hmm.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, heart beating faster than it's ever done, not even the sprint on the beach making it go this quickly.

“It’s the thing I wanted.”

Pulling your face to his, you had to stand on your tiptoes to finally meet his lips. It was a slow kiss, lips melting together, fitting each other as if they were… perfect. Like you’d always dreamed of. It sets the butterflies in your stomach afire, your heart to stop beating, the world to stop spinning. You lost air, you lost your mind, you lost yourself within him.

You’d finally completed your list, you’d finally made your new year’s day perfect.

a/n: to all of you who made my 2023 very special, a happy new year and a blessed 2024 ♡

[nightwingsgirlfriend]

i hate golden child Dick Grayson. everyone ignores how ANGRY this kid actually was. We rarely get accurate dick grayson, all the teen titans shows have been so off on his personality (you cannot tell me they accidentally made the character tim and realised halfway through wrong robin) and the fandom sees him as "oh everyone finds him attractive + he's Bruce's perfect angel and Jason hates him because of that"

no he literally killed the joker.

why do we skim over that he KILLED THE JOKER. He didn't even know Jason; bruce was his father and he not only refused to kill the joker, interfered when someone else tried to but hit jason in the same way after he came back. His SON. But dick felt so strongly about a kid he regretted not getting close to that he killed a man.

and then if you think that was a one off

in that panel where he fully BEATS Bruce's ass in gotham war? served. ate.

people dumb him down way too often like he wasn't the first robin. you cannot out do the doer so they gotta drag him down to bring others up.

not to mention the fanon portrayal ignores the trauma he has from liu, mirage and tarantula. it looks at that and goes "ok! cool but he IS a flirt :3" he isn't allowed to grieve in the comics either because SOMEBODY (devin) won't let him because he "didn't say no"

and give jason his own friends DC please stop giving him handmedowns he deserves more (i do love him and roy i just wish they also maintained the roy dick friendship because it's usually one or the other)

thabk yoau and gooenight

[gemini-sensei]

Part Two of this Post - inspired by @sensei-venus CW: angst, bully targeting weight and body image, slapping, and crying.

What if after thinking about her best friends (secret crushes) so much, Reader can't finish the movie. But instead of dragging herself to her room, she decides to go to the party. She knows where it's being held, it isn't that far from her house. She's still in her costume...

Before much more thought can be put into the idea, she finds herself walking down the street. She's three houses down when she hears the music and sees all of the cars lining the road.

There are people in costumes coming in and out of the place, laughing and drinking and having a good time. No one questions her as she makes her way up to the door or when she walks inside. She wasn't invited but no one stops her from joining. It's loud and there are lights flashing and people dancing. The house itself is already a wreck, but no one cares. Everyone is having fun.

She mills around the place, seeing people she recognizes and others she doesn't. Kids from other schools have shown up to drink and eat food and hook up with people. That's what parties are for, right? So what the Hell am I doing here?

It isn't long before someone in a devil's mask stops her. He jumps out and scares her, laughing at her reaction. She tries to shrug it off with a scoff, but the guy is jeering at her. And she knows that voice. It's tormented her for years.

Kyler lifts the mask and laughs in her face. He points at her. "Ay yo, you shoulda seen the look on your face! You looked like you were about to shit yourself!"

"You're so gross," she tells him, shaking her head. She tries to walk around him so she can ignore him for the rest of the party - she might just go home. But he stops her by blocking her path.

"Hey, wait wait wait, what are you supposed to be, a witch?" he asked, checking out her outfit. He snickers and she knows an insult is coming. "More like a fat bitch!"

It shouldn't hurt anymore, she's been through it a million times before. At least that's what she thinks, that she shouldn't be affected by it anymore, but the tears spring up anyway. She tries to wipe them away before Kyler can see them, but he does and he starts laughing.

"Aw, c'mon don't be a baby, Reader. You're always so soft," he mocked, poking her doughy stomach. She recoils from him, but he just keeps jeering her, tormenting her like the perpetual child that he was. "Y'know, if you lost some weight you might look half decent. I might even sleep if you."

She let out a wretched noise between a scoff and a sob. "Is that supposed to be some kind of compliment?"

"You should want to sleep with me," he says smugly. "No one else is going to want to since you're such a pig."

She slaps him across the face, fed up with his bullshit. She cries hard, letting out the pain and frustration. As he holds his cheek and looks up at her, she backhands him to get a good hit on his other cheek. One of the rings she wore to go with her costume caught his skin and cut his face, a little blood trickling down his cheek.

"Go fuck yourself," she spit at him and turned to leave.

People who just witnessed the awful things he said to her and her retaliation move out of her way. No one offers to drive her home, only watching the tears streak down her face. It only makes her feel worse, opening her eyes to the fact that she actually came to the party friendless and alone. It sucks.

She gets halfway across the lawn when she hears someone running after her. "Reader! Wait!"

She doesn't know why she stops, but she does. She turns to find another masked figure following her. He's wearing a Jason Voorhees costume and carrying a prop machete. It's dark in front of the house, with all of the lights and action going on inside or in the backyard and anyone else would have a problem seeing who it is.

He stops in front of her.

"What do you want, Eli?"

"How'd you know it was me?" he asks, pulling the mask up. He looks at her tear-streaked and sad face.

She gestures to his costume. "You have a pattern with Halloween costumes. I didn't expect you to stray away from that. It doesn't matter, though. You can go back to your party."

She turns to leave, but he takes her hand into his, stopping her.

"You don't have to leave. You-"

"No, no it's fine. I don't even know why I came to this stupid party." She pulls her hand away from him. She wipes her eyes but the tears keep falling. "I don't know what I expected. This isn't some stupid movie where I can come to a cool party and things get magically fixed between us. So I'm going home. Don't stop me."

And he doesn't. He watched her walk down the sidewalk, unsure of what to do. He feels the tear in his heart reopen, or maybe it had never healed at all, but he can't deny how much he misses her. He slips his mask back down and hides the tear that falls down his cheek.

Reader cries on the walk home, pushing herself into her house when she arrives. She breaks down, running up to her room to hide from the world.

Maybe she should have just gone to bed to begin with...

[pedgito]

Could you do a love triangle between reader, Steve and Eddie? Like she can't decide who she's more attracted too and spin the bottle goes south really quick. Because they're jealous when someone dares the reader to kiss the other or someone else.

author's note: uh, yeah...i got carried away. this took on a life of it's own. i also got halfway through and tumblr deleted it and i had retype all of it, so if it seems a little disjointed, i'm sorry. hopefully it isn't too noticeable

cw: 18+ (to be safe), background!ronance, lots of making out and some suggestive touching, but nothing too crazy. there's not any interaction outside of the reader between steve & eddie, other than talking, ect, but i tried leaving the ending a little ambiguous for a reason :p

word count: 3.6k

You weren’t entirely too sure how you ended up in this situation—scratch that—you were definitely aware of how, but why was the real issue. A small group of teenagers huddled around a fire during of those infamous senior year parties, drinking until you couldn’t see straight and making far too many irrational decisions—which is the how on you ending up here, staring directly at the two boys you couldn’t stop thinking about, sans the few other kids who didn’t really matter—not to you, anyways. You hadn’t spoke to half these kids the entire school year, but spin the bottle was harmless, practically child’s play. What was the worst thing that could happen?

“So, how are we doing this?” Steve asks after a long silence. Everyone shares a glance around the circle, not a single word spoken. “Come on, at least one of you has to have some idea of how to play.”

You sigh, taking the bait. “Let’s do—spinner chooses the person to kiss for whoever it lands on. Fair enough?” There’s a collective shrug from everyone in response. “Great—I’ll go first.” No one argues against it.

It lands on Nancy first, who takes a small sip of her beer—liquid courage, maybe? Though, she already looked like she been through a few by the slight flush in her face. You glance over at your quirky, fast talking friend and an idea strikes you.

“Robin.” You grin, staring Nancy down. Part of you expects Nancy to back out, but she crosses the path to Robin, who sitting beside you. It’s a quick kiss—close mouthed and simple. Nancy offered a comforting smile to her friend before turning on her heels and returning to her seat—and if it weren’t for the four beers Robin had consumed in the time you had been here, she’d be shaking in her converse after being kissed—and by Nancy Wheeler, of all people. You nudge her shoulder comfortingly, watching the blush creep up her neck toward her face. “Alright, who’s next?” Robin asks, desperately hoping to avert the attention away from her.

A young blonde girl who’s name you couldn’t remember spun the bottle, landing on Jason, and to no surprise—she picked herself. You’ve never been more happy that Chrissy wasn’t much of a partier, she didn’t deserve this—Jason really didn’t deserve her. You couldn’t be bothered to watch, eyes averting to Eddie who was just as equally uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem like it was for the same reason. He rarely ever took part in group stuff or socialized outside of his D&D club—but he had you, Nancy, Robin, and Steve to thank for finally helping him branch out—even if it was against his own will most of the time.

Jason took the next turn, spinning the bottle. It spun and spun, lasting for what felt like hours until it stopped on you. You looked at Jason, bracing for whatever stupid choice he was about to.

“Harrington.” He says smugly, smirk covering his annoying face. “You get to kiss Harrington.”

Steve eyes you wearily, immediately feeling uncomfortable with all eyes on him. Luckily, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Had he been the Steve of two years ago, he would’ve had no shame, kissing you square on the mouth in front of the entire school if he needed to, just to prove a point. But this Steve, he was hesitant. You had been through a lot, together and apart.

“Lucky me.” You joke, flashing a sweet smile in Steve’s direction. You chug the rest of the beer, throwing the bottle off toward the other growing pile of empty bottles. You contemplate whether a simple kiss was enough, but the way Jason was staring you down—you just had to stick it to him, shove it right in his face.

Steve’s leg spread slightly as you moved forward, allowing you the space you needed to take a careful seat on his leg, one arm hung loosely around his back. “You can hate me later.” You whisper, hand coming up to cradle the side of his face before leaning in, pressing you lips against his own with all the confidence in the world.

You really don’t expect the pressure the Steve returns, parting your lips slightly. But, he seems to catch on to why you were putting on such a show—he would play along either way. And even if you did have the teensiest of crushes on Steve, you would never find the courage to act on it alone. Steve spent all of his time talking about girls that there was no reason for you to be anywhere on his radar. He sighs quietly, bring you in closer, hand gripping onto your waist gently.

Jason clears his throat awkwardly, “If you two want to get a room that’s fine.” Of course the jerk couldn’t take what he wanted to dish out. You pull away slowly, eyes immediately connecting with his.

“Sorry. Who’s next?” You ask simply, standing to smooth out your shirt where it had ridden up from Steve’s hand. “Robin?”

“Me?” She asks, voice shaken. Robin was always so inherently nervous, but it was part of her charm. "I, uh--Okay."

You could hear a pin drop as soon as it landed on Eddie, the entire group snapping their attention in his direction. He was fiddling with the neck of the bottle, not realizing everyone was staring at him until Steve nudges him.

He laughs lightly, not even the slightest bit uncomfortable. You would never understand how easily he brushed everything off. "Choose wisely, Robin." He teases, pointing a tantalizing finger her direction. Robin forces a laugh, eyes wandering around the group slowly, categorizing every person.

Not Jason, not Nancy, not to mention all the other kids who were vehemently making an effort to avoid Robin's gaze. She stops on Steve for half a second, considering--before she snaps to you. She mumbles a sheepish, "Sorry--I love you, please don't hate me."

But, there wasn't any reason to hate her. It was a game--a silly, stupid little game, right? You shrug, throwing your arms up in the air. "Rules are rules." You assure her, "Pucker up, Munson."

Much similar to your approach to Steve, Eddie widens his legs. But, he's perched higher, allowing his head to be level with you while he sat. "It's an honor, sweetheart." His voice dripping with honey, warm and entirely too welcoming--and now you really can't ignore the shiver that runs down your spine. It wasn't the alcohol this time, not even in the slightest.

He yanks you toward him gently, fingers carding their way through the hair at nape of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, searing kiss. You yelp quietly at the action, caught off guard by the way Eddie manhandled you into place--not that you were complaining.

The kiss quickly turns into something else, a mess of tongues and not much else. It was probably time to cut off the alcohol. Robin whistles loudly from behind you, the rest of the teenagers joining in quickly, pulling you both out of whatever trance you had both entered. You quickly stepped back from Eddie, pointedly avoiding his eyes--unfortunately, locking right onto Steve's. Except he's not looking back, he's staring directly at Eddie. And it's then, in the midst of all your drunkenness, that your existential crisis hits you.

Steve was jealous and Eddie wanted to make Steve jealous. It had worked perfectly, assuming by the look on Steve's face. But, what doesn't make sense, is why Steve couldn't bare to look at you now. Eddie coughs softly, causing you to separate further. "Sorry, sweetheart. Kinda got ahead of myself." You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but it couldn't have been more obvious--the problem was literally staring you directly in the face.

They were both jealous. They couldn't even share a glance with each other anymore, after an entire night of pointless chatting, it was like they couldn't be on further points of the universe, all over a harmless game.

"Well, I think that's enough for one night." Nancy finally says, breaking the tension that had been created between the three of you. "Robin?" She asks, making an effort to hope she would catch on.

"Yep!" She claps, standing up from her spot and immediately snatching Nancy away from the group. "God, please fill me in on whatever is going on with those two." Robin whispers into your ear before she finally flees, following Nancy toward the drink table, against her better judgement.

.ೃ࿐

After a few minutes of silence and stolen glances between each other, no one speaks. You sigh loudly, hands thrown out to your side. "I'm not dealing with you two. I'm not--I'm just gonna go find somewhere to sober up." You weren't sure what had brought out the behavior from Steve--well, Eddie had--but, you hadn't done a single thing to him. And Eddie, he couldn't even be bothered to look Steve's way.

You turn, stomping off into the deep brush of forest, desperate to escape the chaos of the party and calm your nerves. "Wait!" You hear Steve call out, but you don't stop. To no one's surprise, Steve trails closely behind--a quiet Eddie sticking behind, staring at the dirty, scuffed white sneakers he wore.

"Wait, please," Steve's voice is softer this time, but louder, void of all the loud music and chatter. He's staring at you with his soft, brown eyes--the type of look that would make any girl melt. But not you, not now, "stuff got weird back there, I'm sorry."

"Stuff got weird? Is that the excuse you're using?" You ask, entirely unconvinced by what he was telling you. "So, you staring down Eddie like you wanted to murder him isn't important? I shouldn't be worried about that?"

Steve looks away, jaw clenching. "I didn't think it would feel weird. But, I couldn't help it." He replies lamely, still not looking your way.

"Couldn't help what?" You ask, arms crossing over your chest, "Acting like a complete douche? It was a game, Steve." But, you were far past the point of it just being a game--you knew it was more to Steve, maybe not before, but definitely now.

"Just a game? So when you had your tongue shoved down Eddie's throat, that was just a game?" Steve turns toward you, eyes narrowing. You set yourself, brows furrowing in anger.

"So, you are jealous." Steve shakes his head in frustration, back turned toward you. "You're jealous that I kissed Eddie? Steve, I kissed you too, how does that make any sense?" He didn't even have the courage to look at you now, even after being so confrontational. "Steve, seriously?"

"Fuck this." He snaps, turning on his heels and stalking toward you, legs hitting the back of the worn out picnic table, sending you stumbling back, arm extended out in an effort to catch yourself, but Steve's hands are around you before you can even think, pulling you into him.

You hesitate for a split second, seeing his eyes scan over the expanse of your face, silently checking if you were okay--you were furious, but you couldn't help but want to lean in further, the tingle of alcohol filling your body. You sigh into Steve's mouth the moment it touches yours, immediately wrapping your arms around the expanse of his neck, allowing his hands to slip under your thighs and force you to be fully seated on the table now, wrapping your legs around his hips.

His tongue traces a line against your top lip, idle hand squeezing at the soft flesh of your waist, before delving into your mouth like he was a man dying of thirst, ready to bleed you dry. You fight back, lips pressing against his in an effort to gain an upper hand, fingers gently pulling at his hair. Steve moans outwardly, a filthy laugh slipping from his lips at the effort you were giving. "I guess I had a reason to be jealous, yeah?" He asks teasingly, his voice low and soft, only for your ears.

"Shut up." You bite back, pulling him back in for another kiss, leaving you practically breathless.

"Well, seems you two had a couple issues to work through." A voice bleeds through the trees, the familiar crackle of leaves coming closer and closer until..."Didn't think you had it in you, Harrington."

"Eddie." It's a warning. He knows it.

Eddie throws his hands up in defeat before resting them behind his back, slowly stepping closer. Steve was still pressed between your legs, but both of you were glued on Eddie and that stupid smirk he had.

"Don't act so innocent, sweetheart." He chides, his voice soft but condescending in it's tone. "You knew exactly what you were doing."

A step closer, than another, until he's practically kneeling on the bench beside you both, only a few inches away. "Steve's definitely got it out for you--problem is, I do too."

It couldn't have been more obvious, but the reality of hearing it fall from Eddie's mouth has your heart skipping a beat. Two of you bestfriends, two people you loved--it should feel wrong.

Eddie lets out a short chuckle, eyes dark, not soft like they usually are. He wasn't mad, you've known him long enough to understand what that looks like, but this--it was something else entirely. He leans in slowly, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You were too hyperaware of your position now--Steve crowded over you, Eddie pushed in beside you. Steve hadn't even bothered to move, to enraptured by the show Eddie was putting on, almost like he was amused by it. You glance over at Steve, his mouth hung open slightly, still caught up in all the emotion of the moment, his grip never faltering.

"You think Harrington likes to watch? Or maybe he'll join in?" Eddie asks teasingly, eyes glancing toward Steve. Steve's eyes flit toward Eddie quickly, before returning to your own, eyes glossing over slightly. "He does get a little feisty when he drinks, doesn't he?"

"Eddie, just get to the point." You beg tiredly, glancing up toward him now. Eddie smiles, but it's slight, barely noticeable at all. He's thinking, contemplating. But, it doesn't take long before Eddie's leaning forward, chin grasped between his fingers in an effort to maneuver your face toward him. It's surprisingly gentle, despite how aggressive it would look to anyone passing by, luckily you three were completely alone.

"Just couldn't resist another taste, sweetheart." Eddie flirted entirely to well, it was one of his more annoying traits. He flirted with everyone, anything, it wasn't something you ever put much thought into. But, this--this was dirty, this was real. "I'll let myself regret it in the morning."

But, it's you who closes that gap, hand reaching up to graze the side of Eddie's face, fingers catching in one of his curls. Steve's grip on your waist tightens, but he doesn't move, doesn't let go. He hasn't even made a sound. Eddie licks into your mouth, desperate for more of you, teeth grazing against your bottom lip, nipping gently. Eddie was messy with passion in the way that Steve was slightly more coordinated--and the idea that you were even comparing the two was insane, but that was a thought for a later time. There were more pressing issues at hand--like, Eddie pulling away to suck at a particular spot on your neck, allowing you to finally lock eyes with Steve again.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice was rough, eyes drawn to where Eddie was sucking along your neck. You couldn't even be bothered to answer, nodding quickly in response. He pulls you in carefully, the hand that wasn't holding your waist a featherlight touch against your thigh, pulling your leg higher up his hip. He didn't seem to mind that Eddie wanted to join in, but he wanted to make sure his presence was still known. Not like you could forget it--this would be burned into your mind forever.

You sigh, desperate for more and more touch, from either of them. It was driving you wild, the way Eddie was whispering in your ear, taking the time to claim up your skin with his own mouth, all while being devoured by Steve’s, his tongue breaching past your lips, desperate to pull any little sound he could out of you. Words were pointless, you couldn’t even form one. It wasn’t like you were drunk enough to the point where you couldn’t make a rational decision, not that anything was making sense right now, but you were definitely aware.

“Switch me, Harrington.” Eddie sighs out, hand reaching around to grip at the thigh that Steve wasn’t occupying, squeezing at the sensitive flesh. You whine softly, the cold sting of his rings a very prominent reminder. This was Eddie, your best friend, and Steve—also your best friend—how were you going to recover from this?

Steve doesn’t put up a fight, surprisingly, switching with Eddie quickly, hand wandering up your chest, slipping under the thin material of your shirt. “This okay?” He asks into crown of your head, mouth buried into your hair, squeezing at your breast, over the flimsy bralette that covered them.

“So okay. So much better than okay.” You confess, pleasure having taken over your rational thinking completely. You catch the glance that Eddie sends Steve's way, watching his hand disappear under your shirt. And for a split second, Steve locks eyes with him. They could've buried you six feet under at this point, not even feeling like you were in control of yourself anymore. But, the feeling of Eddie's lips brushing against your own has you jolting back to reality, your hand coming up to push his hair out of his face, delving into his mouth, a sloppy mess of tongue and spit, just like before.

It was a stark contrast, the way Eddie was ready to devour you whole, compared to Steve, who was sure of himself, but never taking a step too far without checking in with you. It had you reeling, two of the boys you care about most, drawing sounds out of you that you had no idea existed. You had to stop this at some point, before you three woke up the next morning, unable to look at each other.

You sighed, reaching back to rub tenderly at Steve's arm, pulling his attention away from where his face was buried in your neck, barely grazing Eddie's, but it's enough to interrupt him. He pulls back, eyes softer now.

"We have to stop." You say, regretfully. As much as you wanted to let the alcohol think for you, some things just couldn't get out of control, not this. "We can't do this."

They both pull back slowly, slightly dejected. "Sorry." Steve says softly, attempting to subtly adjust the front of his pants, but he fails.

"Damn, Harrington." Eddie laughs, finally pulling back, fishing his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "You just keep surprising me."

"Shut up." Steve shoots back, but there's no real emotion behind it. He almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation, not having fully processed everything either.

"I need to get back before Robin comes looking for me." You tell them both, the flick of Eddie's lighter louder in the silence that had settled.

"Eh, I don't know about that." Eddie gives you a playful look, taking a long drag from the cigarette. "She might be a little busy."

"With?" You ask, eyeing him carefully.

"Let's just say, Wheeler was pretty eager to run off with her earlier," He glances over at Steve, then back at you, "and I definitely didn't catch them making out over by the parking lot."

"Damn, I didn't think Robin had it in her." Steve comments offhandedly, seemingly proud of his friend.

"God," You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face tiredly, "this is the last party I'm ever tagging along on."

"Probably a good idea," Eddie says, smiling down at you, "you might end up falling in love with us." It's a lame attempt at a joke, but the way your heart flutters scares you.

"Yeah." You force a laugh, pushing yourself off the table and attempting to walk back toward the wild group of drunk teenagers. The boys trail closely behind, exchanging glances between each other unbeknownst you. Steve shakes his head in disbelief.

"Hey!" You hear Robin yells, jogging toward you. Nancy was close behind her, an obvious pep in her step. You gave Robin a suspicious look, eyeing her up and down. "So, these two ever stop acting so grumpy?"

"Yeah." You say slowly, glancing over at Nancy, who was forcing herself to hide the obvious smile on her face. "They'll be okay, we talked it out."

"Good, at least they finally figured their shit out." Robin whispers to you, glancing up at the two boys who were both wearing the same pair of shit-eating grins on their face at the sight of their other two friends.

"I could say the same for you."

The look on Robin's face is priceless, sending you running in the direction of Steve's car at the startled yell of your name. "She's gonna kill you for that." Eddie comments, gasping for breath when you finally come to a stop, arm draped over your shoulder gently.

"I told you, she just needed a nudge." Steve smirks, jingling the keys to his car in front of you. "Need a ride?"

It didn't matter if you three ended up in the back of Steve's car that night, somehow in the same situation as earlier, you could regret it in the morning. But truthfully, that wasn't the last time—and none of you ever regretted it.

[allsortsedits]

Scars

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You and Eddie go to the same school. Both have unspoken feelings for each other. Eddie is having trouble adjusting to his noticeable scars on his body from the upside down. You help him see the beauty of himself

Warnings: Body image, Jason, Just lots of fluff (if i missed anything let me know!)

After the upside Eddie was never the same. He was more withdrawn, quiet, kept to himself. He wore long sleeved shirts to hide his scars from the bats. He was embarrassed. One time the basketball team saw his scars and called him freak and a few other horrible names only this time he truly believed it. Ever since he’s hidden them

Now Jason was beating the shit out of him because of one dumb jock comment. No one bothered to break up the fight. Eddie gave up halfway through. He could suddenly hear someone shouting to stop the fight. He saw someone stand between him and Jason. Who walks away in a huff

“Are you okay?” He opens his eyes to see you kneeling down. Your face full of worry and concern. He quickly darts his eyes around the cafeteria noticing it was empty. He doesn’t answer you. He finally lets his tears fall as he curls in a ball

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up? No one’s in the first aide room it’ll just be us” You say softly trying to get him up. After a few minutes he nods and finally takes your hand. Your hand is soft in his. He half expected you to drop it but you held firmly. Once you’ve entered you close the door and lock it giving Eddie peace of mind no one can come in

“You’ll have to take your shirt off so i can see what Jason’s done to you” You turn around rummaging in the cupboards trying to find the first aide kit

“No” He mumbles

“Eddie… I know about.. you know..It’s okay. I promise I won’t say anything. I just want to see if you’re hurt” He can hear the sadness and concern in your voice. He doesn’t know why but he trusts you. You two have never spoken until now. You’re in the same English class though. You’re quiet and keep to yourself mostly

“Okay” He whispers. You turn around to give him some sort of privacy

“You can turn around now” He mumbles. He’s ready for you to judge him just like everyone else. You turn around and your heart aches. They look so painful. But you didn’t understand why the jocks were horrible about it. You were friends with Dustin and he told you everything. Because you believed him. You instinctively go to touch his stomach where some of the deeper scars are but you pull away at the last minute not wanting to cross a boundary

“See? I’m a freak. I’ll always be a freak” He huffs. For some reason he wanted you to touch his scars. The way you looked at him was different to how everyone else did. He didn’t know what it was but it wasn’t a bad look like everyone else

You pull up a chair to sit in front of him with the antiseptic wipes to clean his face. His stomach and torso were actually okay. But you could see bruises already forming where Jason had kicked him. You looked at his face seeing the damage. He had a split lip, a forming black eye and a cut just under his eye

“I’m sorry, this is going to hurt” You apologise softly before cleaning his face. When you get to his eye he wasn’t expecting it to sting so much. So he grabbed onto your thigh giving it a squeeze as you continued cleaning the area

“M sorry..” He hiccups as he takes his hand away from you. You feel him take his warmth with him. For some reason you liked having his hand on you. It wasn’t menacing like everyone else had said. He was quite gentle despite his hands feeling rough like anything else

“Eddie, I don’t think you’re a freak. You’re a hero okay?” You look at him. You watch as his eyes grow wide. He knew Dustin had told you everything but he wasn’t expecting you to comment on what he had done. It was the first time someone outside the group had called him a hero

You stand up to go put the first aide kit away but before you could do that Eddie pulls on your wrist bringing you into his body. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. You’re standing in between his thighs as he hugs you. You hear a faint “thank you” escape his lips. You rub his bare back gently. He breathes deep taking in your body spray and shampoo you used this morning. The smell brought a sense of calmness to him and he liked it. He hoped you didn’t think it was weird

When Eddie pulls away and lets you go you just stare at each other for a while. Not knowing what to say. He stands up and you see the scars stretch with him as he does so

“Do they hurt?” You whisper. You hope they don’t. He doesn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve that. And the crap the jocks put him through? He definitely doesn’t deserve that

“Not anymore. They’re hideous though” He gulps as he looks at himself. He hates it. He hates the way he looks now. Before he didn’t mind…. Now? He cannot stand the sight of his body. You watch his face as he looks at them. You step forward a little so you’re standing in front of him

“I don’t think they’re hideous. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. They tell a story. A heroic one” You don’t look away from his deep brown eyes. You love how the thin ring around his eyes deepens the already sweet chocolate colour he has. You feel him take hold of your wrist and you watch as he places your hand on his chest and spreads your fingers across his skin

He doesn’t let go and he traces his scars with your fingers. Even though he’s in control you try to be as gentle as possible. He was warm and you liked how he made you feel when he let you trace his scars. He lets go and you let your hand drop back to your side

“You think they’re beautiful?” He chokes out his brown eyes glistening over with fresh tears. No one has ever complimented him like this before. He’s never heard someone say such sweet words like that about him before. He likes it. Especially when it’s you who’s saying it. He likes the sound of your voice. It’s calming and gentle. It’s genuine

“Yes. They are. They are nothing to be ashamed of” You go to trace his scars again and as you do so he lightly traces his own fingers against your hand. You lace your hand with his own giving him a squeeze

“And if anyone gives you a hard time or says something horrible I’ll be there to set them straight” Telling him you’ll be there for him. He smiles lightly at what you said

“That means hanging out with the freak” He gives your hand a squeeze using the term lightly. He doesn’t mind using it with you. He watches as you smile and open your mouth like a goldfish

“You mean, hero. I don’t see any freaks here” You step a little closer to him. He wraps his other hand around your waist resting on your lower back. You let your hand rest on his chest. His warmth spreading to your fingers. You didn’t understand why people were so cruel. He’s very sweet and just needed some kind words and affection

“Okay, I meant h-hero” He hesitates at the word hero but it comes out and that makes you smile brightly. He can’t help but smile back. You have a contagious smile. You let go of his hand and move to hold his cheek in the palm of your hand. He stiffens at your touch but doesn’t tell you to stop. You lean forward bringing him down slightly. You kiss his cheek softly and pull away

“What was that for?” It comes out as whisper. He liked it. You were so soft and tender with him. He can still feel how soft your lips were against his skin

“Just for being you. It’s almost lunch did you want to sit together?” You ask shyly. You’re not sure if he’ll want to sit with his friends after what happened. They didn’t see it and they’ll definitely ask questions. He nods his head and slips his shirt back on. You both walk out of the first aide room and head for your lockers to grab your food

Eddie watches as you walk to the other end of the corridor. He wishes your lockers were closer. He wondered if you’d go back on your word. He looks inside his locker and grabs his sad looking lunch. He wonders if you’ll come and get him. Or should he go and get you? He was broken out of his trance when you spoke. “Ready?” You give him a soft smile. “Yeah let’s go” He says in his normal voice. He’s more at peace with you now. You two walk side by side down the corridor

Eddie wanted to sit outside away from everyone. So you both sit down cross legged on the grass. You notice he only has half a sandwich while you have pasta from your dinner last night. You hear his stomach grumble

“Here, let’s switch. I’m not that hungry” You hold out your container for him. He shakes his head no but you don’t take it for an answer. You place the container and fork on his lap. He doesn’t say much but you hear a soft “thank you”

After he pretty much licked the container clean you both lay on the grass looking up at the bright blue sky. Your fingers millimetres apart. Eddie liked this. Laying here next to you like this. It was peaceful and calm

“Why do you care?” He suddenly asks. He didn’t mean to be rude but he wants to know. No one like you had paid much attention to him and when they do it’s to ridicule or bully him

“You’re a good person. And I care about you” You turn your head facing him and he does the same. You both just admire each other. He can see in your eyes you meant every word. Your eyes flick to the long scar that wraps itself around his neck. Your heart absolutely aches for what he went through

“You care about me?” He whispers. He could get used to having someone like you in his life. His friends are there for him sure. But they haven’t been the target of certain people lately. They get left alone while he gets the full blown target practice

“I do” You smile warmly as you hook your little finger with his little finger. He just had to smile back. He moves slightly getting closer to you as your shoulders are now almost touching. Your eyes dart around him. You like his smile. It lights up his eyes and he has such gorgeous deep brown eyes you could just stare into them forever if he let you

He moves his body more now so he’s laying on his side. He hasn’t let go of your finger and he doesn’t plan too. Using his other hand he caresses the side of your face gently. His eyes lock with yours and he can see a glimmer in them from the sunlight. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers as he leans forward. He watches for your reaction and waits on an answer. You just nod as you close the gap between you two. It’s a soft gentle kiss. You tangle your fingers in his hair tugging him closer

He pulls away smiling as he lays back down on his back on the grass. You shuffle your body closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. You both don’t say anything as you don’t need to. You have each other and that was enough. You place your free hand on his chest. “Such a pretty boy” you murmur. With his free hand he places it on top of yours and holds it. “Can I hold you?” He whispers. “For as long as you want” You whisper back. He’s found someone who will be there no matter what

[beepbeepstop]

Stop the Tension

Summary: After getting your hair braided for the summer Oscar helps you rub oil on your scalp to relieve some of the tension Pairing: Oscar x Black!Reader Genre: Fluff Visuals

I watched as all the houses we passed by blend into a blur through the window. I wasn't able to truly focus on the environment that we were driving by. All I could focus on was the tight sensation on my scalp. Each part having its own different level of tension, and the braids having a slightly heavier weight that was almost unfamiliar. Whenever I move my head the slightest bit the weight shifts and the sharp pain takes turns on which side it wants to travel to, but at the same time I hear the nostalgic click and clack of the beads as they bounce off of each other. I lean my head against the window of the passenger window of Oscar's car and close my eyes. I feel his warm hand rub circles onto my exposed thigh.

"You okay, Mami" Oscar asks with a hint of concern in his voice.

"My head just hurts"

"I don't understand why you keep going back to that shop, knowing damn well that they be braiding tight as hell" he said slightly annoyed

"I want them to last Oscar. I don't have the time or money to be sitting up in a chair whenever I need my braids refreshed, because that shit was all loosey goosey"

"I have the money and time to take you to someone who isnt gonna braid your thoughts to the point where its gonna give you a headache" he chuckled

"They got the touch Oscar. You know them African Aunties be gripping with the strength of the ancestors whenever they braid"

Oscar and I made eye contact as we pulled up into the driveway of his house, and all we could do is laugh and smile at each other.

"You stupid for saying that" he said flashing his beautiful smile at me as he tries to hold back more of his laughs.

"Nah nigga you stupid. 'Braiding my thoughts' who fucking thinks of that" I say lightly hitting his shoulder as I laugh

"We're both stupid so get your dumbass in the house and I'll rub oil on your scalp to help loosen the braids up a little bit"

The moment the word oil left his lips I was already unbuckling my seatbelt and halfway out the door.

"Damn where you going" Oscar said grabbing my hand

"You said you were gonna rub oil on my scalp"

"Yea but why you rushing" he chuckled

"You dont gotta tell me twice. Hurry up papi"

The way I was rushing to the door you would've thought that Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Kreuger, the fucking Candyman or whatever scary shit that haunts your dreams was chasing me. All I know is that I was way too fucking excited for Oscar to put his fingers to good use on my scalp. The feeling of oil being rubbed into your scalp is an already enjoyable experience whether it be done by yourself or by someone else, but it's just something about Oscar that takes the feeling to a whole new level of almost ecstasy.

"Chop chop you got work to do"

"Damn patience is virtue (y/n)" Oscar said walking at the slowest pace I've ever seen. At first glance you wouldn't think he was moving until you see the dumb look on his face.

"Why you playing with me"

"Just be patient I'mma get there" he chuckles

"In like 40 fucking years, by the time you get here i'll be old ass grandma with a bunch of grandkids"

"Do you think our grandkids would be cute"

"Who said they were related to you. Keep this shit up and I might start homie hopping"

In the blink of an eye Oscar was towering over me on his porch

"That shit ain't funny (y/n)"

"Oh now you wanna stop playing when I wanna joke around"

"That didn't sound like a joke it sounded more like a warning" he says as he unlocks the door

"Good then you got my message loud and clear" I say smiling at him

"Hurry up and get your ass on the couch"

I giddily skipped over to the couch and sat down waiting for Oscar to bring over the oil. He walked out with a dropper bottle of the Mielle rosemary and mint hair oil.

"Oh okay I see you Mr. Big Baller bringing out the expensive oil. I feel all special"

"Shut up it was 15 dollars"

"Yea but look at this tiny ass bottle. I could've bought 3 bottles of wild growth with that money"

"Do you want your scalp oiled or no"

"Okay I'll shut up, go ahead and do your job"

I turned around and instantly felt the slick oil travel along the parts on my scalp. As Oscar moves the braids out of the way to get to different sections he rubs his fingers in a circular motions working the oil into my scalp. It felt heavenly the way his fingers glided between my braids. The cooling sensation of the oil easing the tension whilst lifting the pain leaving nothing but the feeling of his strong hands massaging my scalp.

"This is how bitches fall in love you know. You over here massaging you manifestations into my brain"

"So that means I should do this more often if I want you to stay in love with me"

"Yup, do this shit once a week and i'll be putty in your hands" I say closing my eyes

"You're already putty in my hands"

"Nigga shut up"

[lipglosscherrybomb]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 �� 𝐌.𝐖. ❦

𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙜𝙡��𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚. ⁂

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 (𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙧𝙚 17), 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 (𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩), 𝙧𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙧, 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨. <3

𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ❦

unfortunately, your social skills peaked in the first grade. when you befriended your now best friend, will byers. sometimes you wished you’d gotten a warning beforehand, considering you didn’t realize that would also mean befriending mike wheeler, and joining their ‘dnd’ party.

you weren’t upset about the ‘dnd’ part, you honestly loved it. and you loved lucas and dustin, who had grown to love you back after their “no girls” phase had come to an end.

and all of that led you here. halfway-wasted. contemplating to hook up with the next guy who walked by you for entertainment purposes. although that might not be the best idea. but who cares? right?

you got up off the couch. gripping the red plastic cup some guy named jason had given you when you first walked in. you figured you’d stick with it. not knowing if it would be considered rude or something to discard it and take a new one each time you got a refill. which, coincidentally, was exactly what you were about to do before a hand you immediately recognized could stop you.

“chill out with that, harrington. you’re already drunk enough.” he said. his slender fingers lingering on your wrist. you looked down at his hand placement. too intoxicated to fully register what he was feeling at the moment, or what you were. he never touched you, i mean, if we’re being honest, he barely ever spoke to you unless you two were having some argument about whatever random topic he’d decided to disagree with you on simply to spite you.

he pulled away quickly. “that shit’s pretty strong.” refusing to even glance at you. “yeah, you’d know with all of those ragers you never got invited to.” you replied. ignoring the boy and dipping your cup into the red liquid. filling it up a bit above the half.

“i’m just saying. no one’s gonna carry your drunk ass home. so if you get fucked up, it’s on you.” he said. it was like his tone shifted entirely. before it was leaning more towards concern, now he was just defensive.

you didn’t say anything. instead you looked at him, confused as to why he suddenly cared at all what happened to you. he never had before.

he took your silence as a sign to carry on. but before he did, you noticed his eyes trail up and down your body as if to examine your outfit. it was a tight red dress. something you’d had stored up in your closet and figured now would be as good a time as ever to wear it. not like you went out a whole lot anyway. “guess i’ve got nothing to worry about. with the way you’re dressed, some other guy will probably take you home anyway.” he continued. pushing past you to make his way towards lucas and max.

you scoff, taking a sip from the drink in your hand. as if it was his queue, dustin approached you. without even turning to look at him, you began complaining. “that boy has a stick up his ass, i swear.” you mumbled. periodically taking sips from the cup, more for entertainment than actual enjoyment or wanting to get even drunker than you already were.

“who?” he asks, looking at you. probably half interested in your response. he could already tell when you were upset about mike or if it was about someone else, he had years of practice. with you knocking on his door every other day either to complain about something mike had said, or complain about him in general. most of the party presumed you both secretly liked each other and constantly placed bets on when you’d finally accept it. as far as you know, they were still making you and mike-related bets, just behind your back.

“mike! it’s like i can’t catch a break. i mean, he basically just called me a whore for no reason- and he’s so frustrating and annoying and he always speaks in such a condescending tone… it makes me want to punch him in the face.” you rant. dustin stepping away a bit as if you were going to explode in rage.

“right…so, is your brother coming?” he asks. you shoot him the meanest look you could conjure up in the moment in response to him ignoring you. “no. he said he had shit to do so i told him to forget about the party.” you responded. your interest still fixated on mike who was sitting on the couch across the room, talking to lucas about something.

“what?! he’s my ride back.” he complains, throwing his arms up in protest.

“hitch.” you responded. very aware of how sour your tone turned. dustin just stared at you in disbelief. you let out a small laugh at his expressions.

“chill, i told him to pick you up later.”

“me? what about you?”

you let out a dry laugh. “are you joking? remember how freaked he was last time? if steve finds out i got wasted again he’ll kill me. i think i’d rather walk back.” you said. remembering the time steve picked you up from the wheeler’s and you’d been drinking with nancy.

“ha, good luck with that.” dustin said. walking away after giving you a pat in the back.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ❦

it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment you got absolutely shitfaced. you knew you drank a lot, maybe a little too much, but you still didn’t think you’d get this bad. with all the shit that had been going on, then mike setting you off, you needed to forget about all of it before you completely lost your shit.

steve had already picked dustin up, and your brother offered you a ride back home for the last time before he drove off with your curly-headed friend, but you decided to stick around in the hopes of the party getting a bit more fun. spoiler alert: it didn’t.

you spent half the night drinking alone in a corner while a bunch of guys you didn’t even know tried to make passes at you. normally you would’ve accepted, but tonight, something was different.

it was like mike took up every single one of your thoughts. making you completely ignore any other guy that tried to talk to you.

you tried to blame the alcohol, told yourself it was just that having your head spinning. but you were absolutely lying to yourself, you knew damn well he’d been taking up your mind ever since you met him. he’d been all you could ever think about. but you pushed those thoughts away for as long as you could. because somehow, hating him was easier than loving him.

and now, there you were. sitting on the floor of a stranger’s bathroom, thinking about mike wheeler out of all people. you threw your head back in order to stop the room from spinning. closing your eyes and ignoring the entire world that was behind that door.

“i’ll come back in a sec-“ he stumbled in the bathroom, calling out to our friends in a rush. he stopped when he spotted you. he looked at you for a second, or better yet, he admired you. almost like he was in a trance.

you open your eyes to find him still staring at you. although his eyes weren’t where you’d expect them to be. he was looking at your…waist? nope- lower…oh.

you close your legs quickly, having finally felt the cold air hitting you. “sorry.” you mutter. leaning against the sink.

“uh, it’s cool. sorry for barging in like that, it was unlocked and i kind of just-“ he cuts himself off. something you’d never seen him do in his entire life. something you wish he’d do more. “are you okay?”

“i’m great. why do you ask?” you retort, sarcasm coating your voice.

“well, it’s been almost a minute and you haven’t insulted me or anything.” he adds.

“taking the night off!” you exclaimed with almost no energy. raising your now empty cup in the air.

“you’re wasted…” he pointed out, awkwardly.

“you should be a detective. honestly, hawkins p.d. is really missing out, wheeler.”

“ok…we really need to get you home, harrington.” he said. suddenly forgetting about whatever he had gone into the bathroom for.

he reached for you, and in your drunken state, you didn’t even try to protest, slinging your arm around his neck and him settling his arm around your waist to hold you steady.

after that it was all kind of a blur. you remember some of the walk back to your house, and you also remember him looking at you every once in a while to make sure you were still conscious.

once you got to your house, you thanked any and every higher power you didn’t believe in that your brother wasn’t there yet, and neither were your parents.

mike led you upstairs. laying you down on your bed and making sure you were settled.

“mike,” you whispered, apparently loud enough for him to hear, seeing as he turned towards you almost like he was waiting for you to say it. “yeah?” he responded. matching your quiet tone.

you didn’t continue whatever you were about to say. instead, you looked into his eyes. his stare avoiding yours as he examined you. “hey, what’s that on your arm?” he perks up, his eyes finally meeting yours.

you look down, curious as to what he meant. when you finally find what he was referring to, you raise your other hand to go and touch the bleeding spot on your skin. which you don’t remember getting. therefore, you wondered if it had been self- inflicted, or accidental.

“i don’t know.” you say, wondering where you could’ve gotten it from.

“c’mon,” he continues, holding out his hand for you to take. you reluctantly took it, feeling as he pulled up your weight with just one arm and then led you into the bathroom.

he sat you down on the toilet, frantically looking for whatever he could find to disinfect your injury. your head spun as you wondered why the hell he even cared about you right now. first he said he wouldn’t help you if you got wasted, but then proceeded to do just that. you were tired of his mixed signals, and in your drunken state you decided to press for answers. no matter how uncomfortable it might make you.

he kneeled in front of you. a comfortable silence filling the room as he signaled for you to hold out your arm. he began to cure the cut. and now that you could see it in a brighter setting, you’d realized it was pretty damn big. you couldn’t remember where you’d gotten it, but it didn’t matter.

“hey, mike…”

“don’t worry, i’m almost done.” he muttered, placing his right hand on your thigh for a split second as a reassuring gesture. he must’ve thought he was hurting you or something.

“no, um…” you started, pulling back your arm so his focus would be on you.

and so it was. you looked down at him, his dark curls falling over his face. and for some reason you forgot what you were saying, what you were thinking. he was so beautiful.

“yeah?” his soft voice snaps you back into reality. making you regain your train of thought.

“why are you being so nice to me?” word vomit.

“what?”

“well- earlier…at the party, you said you wouldn’t take me home. and then you did. and you always fight with me, but then you’re nice…i don’t get it. do you like me or not?” you slurred your words. making it clear that your intoxication level was still very much over his.

he didn’t respond right away. he raised his right hand up to your face, pushing back the strands of hair that covered your eyes. eyes he could get lost in for hours, the eyes of the only girl he’d ever loved.

his hand lingered on your cheek for a while, struggling to let go. you stared at him, begging over and over in your mind that he’d make a move already. it was like your thoughts were moving so fast you couldn’t keep up.

he finally leaned in, as if he could read your mind, staring profusely into your eyes. the eyes of the only girl he’d ever loved, the eyes for the girl he hoped loved him back.

his face was inches away from yours. you could smell the alcohol on him, even though he looked a thousand times more sober than you did.

without even thinking about it, you pressed your lips against his. tasting the lingering vodka on him. you couldn’t believe it, a few hours before this, you “hated” mike wheeler, and as far as you were concerned, he hated you too.

but in this moment, you couldn’t remember an exact reason for that hatred. all you could do was think about him. the guy you’d been in love with your entire life. the guy who had changed your perspective on everything ever since you two connected. like, really connected.

all your senses were filled by all that was mike wheeler. and you couldn’t get enough.

he deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. years of love he’d believe to be unrequited being unfolded in this single moment, one he’d remember forever.

you tugged on his black shirt, pulling him closer as he placed his hands on your thighs, still kneeling on the floor as you sat only slightly taller than him.

his hands traveled a little higher, “is that okay?” he whispered into your lips, holding eye contact as he waited for a response.

“yes.” you said, missing his proximity already. god, he had to know how you felt about him, right?

“wait, wait-“ he stopped, backing up from you. he put his hands up to his face as if he’d done something wrong. “you’re drunk- this isn’t right.”

you couldn’t really say anything. it’s not like he was wrong, but he wasn’t sober either.

“mike-“

“no, wait. i need to say something.” you shut up, hearing him out before you began to express your own feelings.

“i like you, y/n. i always have. i know i don’t show it but i kind of always thought you hated me so i thought that maybe hating you would be easier than to actually face facts….” he kneeled back down. keeping his tone soft and his movements gentle. before continuing, he brought a hand up to your face, cradling it.

“i love you. i always have and honestly i probably always will. it’s okay if you don’t feel the same- i know i’ve been an asshole to you, i just-“ he sighed. “i wanted you to know that.”

you looked at him, waiting for him to signal that he’d stopped talking.

“mike,” you paused purposely, bringing your hand up to play with his hair, admiring the way he was looking at you. as if you were the only person in this world. “i love you too. always have, always will.”

[wrencatte]

Oh, hello. What’s this? Is this a 800 word WIP that’s a little follow up to this weight is mine? It might be!

Breathing still hurts when he comes to. He doesn’t open his eyes. Just takes a moment to himself, catalogues what he can through hearing and touch alone. Immediately Jason’s aware of a heart monitor beeping and cool, dry oxygen flooding his lungs with every inhale – that’s followed up by registering the mask over his face and the port in his arm. Everything, not just breathing, hurts, but it’s muted by good drugs. The kinda drugs usually found back home –

Home that he was thousands of miles away from last time he checked. Because he’d been…He was in Toulouse, wasn’t he? And – and –

Noémie!

Jason surges up and the screaming pain isn’t enough to send him back down because – Noémie. There’s hands on his shoulders, voices speaking quickly. He struggles against them uncomprehendingly. Noémie, who he last remembers was trapped and bleeding and crying so hard she could barely breathe. He remembers asking her to match his breathing and how much that fucking hurt. He remembers – he remembers –

“Jason!”

He shoves off a hand, elbows someone else in the chest. There’s no responding sharp gasp and his elbow hurts way more than it should for that sorta attack, but he doesn’t fucking care.

“Jason, stop!” More hands, cradling his face around the oxygen mask, sliding through his hair. “Jaylad, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

Jaylad. He sags, energy draining out of him as swiftly as it had come on. Jason slumps forward, forehead pressing against a solid shoulder, his breathing ragged and short. The hand comes back up through his hair, resting on the back of his neck and squeezing comfortingly.

“That’s it,” Bruce murmurs in his ear, cheek resting against Jason’s temple. “I got you. Just breathe.”

Jason steadies his breathing just long enough to gain enough of it back to mumble out, “Noémie.”

Bruce sighs fondly. “Better off than you,” he says. “You’ve been unconscious for four days. She’s already spent three of them demanding to see you to make sure with her own two eyes you’re alive and well.”

Alive, yes. Well….not so much. There’s blood coating the back of his throat still, making his whole mouth taste nasty. Now that he’s not half-delirious in panic, the pain that had been dulled by drugs has been amplified that he’s shaking where he leans into Bruce.

None of that matters because Noémie is safe. She’s okay.

Jason breathes out all shuddery, his eyes burning. His shoulders protest any sort of movement – and it’s not hard to forget holding up a collapsing building for hours – but he reaches up and clings to his dad anyway. Just. Holds him, lets himself be grounded.

Bruce wraps his other arm around Jason’s back loosely, mindful of the minefield of bruising. “I got you,” he repeats softly. “Breathe in – Breathe out.” His chest expands and contracts exaggeratedly and Jason nearly laughs out loud for how much it matches what he did with Noémie. He follows the pattern, though, until his breathing evens out and he feels like he’s less likely to burst into stress and pain induced tears. “That’s it. Think you can open your eyes? You don’t have to move, just tilt your head to the left.”

He debates for half a second then decides that since Bruce is asking instead of demanding, he can probably do it. His eyelashes stick together so it takes a couple tries, but eventually he’s looking at a…at a Watchtower med bay?

A Watchtower med bay that is no longer it’s dull white and grey, but an explosion of color. Flowers everywhere. Some have tags, most don’t. But what catches his attention the most, though, is the plush bear sitting on the bedside table.

Bruce chuckles. “Superman helped,” he says. “Your Noémie is quite the firecracker.”

Jason huffs out a laugh – a fraction of what he actually wants to do – and leans up to reach for it. He aborts the movement not even halfway, a broken whimper escaping before he can think about holding it back. Bruce moves past him and plucks both the bear and the card from the table, pulling Jason back to lean against him as he settles back down.

He should probably be laying down. He appreciates the fact that Bruce isn’t making him lay down.

Bruce hands him the bear first. He takes it, cradling it in his arms. Stares. Because it’s not a normal bear. It’s not a hospital gift shop bear or even something you’d find at a normal store. He can tell because –

It’s wearing a red motorcycle helmet. Not quite like his own Red Hood helmet, but the colors are an exact match. And it’s wearing a little T-shirt with his symbol on it. The stitching is a little haphazard and the vinyl transfer isn’t quite right – it’s homemade.

[pvtty-wh0re]

Pick me | Eddie Munson

eddie munson x fem!Harrington!reader

cw: jealousy, smut, P in V, dom!eddie, oral(m&f), angst, yelling, multiple orgasms, cum denial, edging, drug use

this is smut so beware it has sex. 18+ (MDI)

AN: this is my first smut so i’m sorry if it’s not that good but i love eddie so this is my take. thank uu <33

you had been head over heals in love with eddie since middle school. watching him play guitar with his buzzcut just, drew you in. now you’re in highschool, you’re a senior. same as eddie “the freak” munson.

you dreamed about being with him, what yalls dates would look like, how he would kiss you. but he didn’t know how you felt. what made it worse was he was falling for someone too. chrissy cunningham, the beautiful, pretty cheerleader.

she was with jason, the head of the basketball team. you knew she wouldn’t get with eddie, but you could, at least you could try. but that all changed when you went to eddie’s house to give him a hand-man guitar pic you painted “CORRODED COFFIN” his bands name. it was a surprise for him but u got surprised too.

you knocked on his door 3 times and he didn’t answer, but you heard something. you looked through the window to see chrissy the fucking cheerleader smoking with eddie. she was on his lap laughing, her head tilting back as he looked at her. the look you’ve craved for him to look at you. but it was chrissy who got his look.

you couldn’t look away but wanted to do bad. your eyes beginning to tear up. you just put your hand on the window, face covered in tears and cold as the breeze of winter hit you.

“huh” eddie says as he takes a hit of his joint. “w-what eddie?” chrissy says. “i think someone’s here.” he says as he pushes chrissy off his lap. when he gets up, he sees your face in his window. he sees how much you were crying, he goes to open the door. “Y/N!” he yells your name but you’re crying so hard and running home.

you and eddie lived close in the trailer park. it began to rain. when u got home, you just went to your room and cried so hard. “why couldn’t he just pick me” you said repeatedly.

you woke up the morning after you saw chrissy on eddie. eventually lunch came and it felt like i’d been forever. you go to sit in your spot by eddie at the lunch table. mike and dustin are happy to see you, per usual, since you were the only girl in Hellfire. you talk to the freshman until you see eddie, and your face that is usually with a smile was down on the table. flashbacks from last night filled your brain. you feel someone touch your arm, it was eddie, your unrequited love. “hey y/n” he says as he wants to say something more. “hey eds” you say very dry, sounding like you were about to cry.

halfway through lunch you got up and left. you were just gonna go home and skip, then eddie grabs your hand. “hey, what happened last night?” he asks you, you start to tear up again but try to hold it together. “just- um- i like this guy and i found out he liked someone else so i was crying..” you say, not confident at all. you were an okay liar but not this time.

“oh- i didn’t know you liked a guy down here,” he laughs bc you’ve never had a boyfriend or went out on a date, and you’re 18 so it was just funny to him. “yeah”you sigh out. “soo” he says pressing your upper arm like a little kid. “tell me who this douche is, a guy who doesn’t want you but someone else- dumbass.” he laughs. eddie has always protected you and maybe that’s why you fell in love with him. “he’s..no one.” you say with tears coming out of your eyes.

“hey hey, don’t cry y/n, just tell me who he is i’ll teach him a lesson.” eddie says, visibly upset because a random guy has you crying like this. “eddie stop.” you say, crossing your arms. “cmon tell me, no one gets to hurt you and get away with it.” he says bending down to your face to wipe your tears. “it’s..” you say trying to calm yourself. “eds, if you wanna find the guy, just go look in the mirror.” you say as your brother pulls up, steve harrington. “YO” steve yells at you, you look back at him then at eddie. “y/n..” eddie says as he’s going to say something like ‘i don’t like you like that’ but you leave before he can finish. you didn’t want to hear how he didn’t love you back.

steve was your brother, about a year older than you, but he was your best friend. he knew your feelings towards eddie since you told him when you were 11 years old. he knew what happened and why you were crying. “y/n listen, it’s okay maybe talk to him about it.” he says trying to calm you down. you stay quiet until you get home.

when you get to your house, which your dad bought you, a small trailer. you saw eddie’s van, and sucked your cheeks in, biting them too. “love you sis” steve says while driving away back to the house him and your dad lived in.

“eddie, what are you doing here.” you say with your head looking at the grass trying to walk to your front door. he grabs your hand, “i don’t understand” he says. “understand what?” you say confused. “you said look in a mirror and i don’t know what that means.” eddie explains. “GOD” you scream out, “ITS YOU! YOU EDDIE, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU AND I TRIED SO HARD TO MAKE YOU SEE ME BUT U CHOSE HER!” you scream, tears streaming down your face. you hit eddie’s chest lightly. “why couldn’t you have seen, why didn’t you pick me. eddie.” you say crying before going inside your trailer. “what are you talking about? y/n i’m not dating anyone.” he tries to explain, confusing by who “her” was. “i saw you and chrissy, that’s why i’ve been crying. you chose little cheerleader chrissy over me.” you say, your voice trembling. “oh angel, she was just buying weed and she spilled shit on me so she tried to clean it off.” he says, grabbing your face. “eddie, just stop. i saw the way you looked at her.” you say, crying in your hands.

“you think i like her, you think i’d choose her.” he says making you look at him. “you already did.” you mutter. “y/n, chrissy is pregnant and is with jason the douche. i’ve loved you for so long but i knew you didn’t feel the same.” eddie says, bringing his hands from your face to your knees. “oh- well congrats to her.” you say awkwardly. “but eddie, you- you love me?” you ask. “do i love you, i’ve always loved you. you are my angel. i never thought you’d love me back y/n, i never would choose her over you.” he says, making you feel like this is a dream.

“i love you eddie, i want you.” you say cupping his face. you bring him into a very heated kiss, a kiss that has been wanted for years. his tongue pressed against your lips, asking for entrance into your mouth. you can tell what he wants and you open your lips for him. you two fight each other with your tongues, he wins and explores every inch of your mouth.

you break the kiss, in need of oxygen. eddie just goes to attack your neck, making you let out a small moan. you two were now on the couch, your hands in eddie’s frizzy hair. his lips on your neck his hands on your wait and the back of your neck. eddie could feel himself start getting hard, he moved the hand that was on your waist to your clothed boob. he squeezes it slowly and massaging it. making you let out a louder moan than before, putting your head back. eddie loved see this, the girl of his dreams under him moaning and whining at his touch.

“does this make u feel good, princess?” eddie asks seductively, putting his hand up your shirt and under your bra, feeling your bare boob. “m-mhm” you stutter, it was just him touching your boob but it was HIM touching YOU. he unbuttons your shirt and bra, and dives face first for your boobs. “cmere” he says as he picks you up and takes you to your bedroom. slamming you on the bed, legs still wrapped around his waist. he takes off his shirt but putting his arms behind him and pulling the shirt off. reveling his back muscles first then his abs. he was so pretty and the way he took off his shirt made your pussy wet.

“oh baby, i’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget about chrissy and only know my name.” eddie whispers into your ear, nibbling on it a little. “please eddie, fuck me till i can’t walk.” you say, kissing his jawline. you can feel how hard he is when his boner is pushed against your leg. “god you get me so worked up.” he says, as like you’ve gotten him ‘worked up’ before. “i’ve been dreaming of this since i was 12 years old.” he says as he unbuckles his jeans, leaving him in his boxers and you in your skirt and underwear.

eddie pulls your skirt off and begins to rub your throbbing clit against your underwear. “god your already so wet for me, such a slut for your best friend huh,” eddie says making your body tingle when he calls you a whore. he pushes your underwear to the side and rubs your exposed clit, which makes you let out a moan. his dick throbbing from the noises that he made you make. he slowly puts his middle finger inside you and curling it up, making your back arch. he decides to add another finger making you moan out and your hips buckle.

“baby my dick is throbbing for you so bad.” he says in your ear. “how about we fix that” you say touching his chest…

AN: okay so this was fun so tell me if you want a part 2 bc i will make one <33 ty so much for reading

[entireoranges]

Playing it over and over

Had something scary happen the other day and now I keep replaying what occurred and wondering if I should have done more or anything.

My dad came out of his bedroom because the doorbell rang. It was clear he came out in a hurry and rushed to put his pants on. Though I don't understand the reason behind the rush, he knew others were home and 9 times out of 10 it's a package left at the door, which it was.

I was semi-struggling with getting it inside because they blocked the screen door (so annoying) but I easily could have handled it. Still, my dad jumped in and got it. He put it on a little table thing we have by the door and got his knife out to cut it open. About halfway through, he stopped and started shaking.

I honestly didn't think much of it because sometimes he has hand tremors, so I assumed it was that. But then I did think it was odd because he wasn’t muttering/bitching about it like he does when it happens. So, that was the point I was like ... oh no...

Then his hands got only way to describe is floppy and then he started falling and stopped himself. I believe at this point I said "be careful" though I knew he couldn't hear me. It was obvious he wasn't with it.

Then it happened. He fell backward like a ton of bricks and despite me rushing to try to catch him, SLAMMED his head into the corner of the wall. He moaned/reacted immediately and stood up fairly quickly. Proceed to return to the box and the same thing happened, this time he fell the opposite direction and hit his hand on the metal divider between the door and screen door.

The fall wasn't as forceful that time, but what was more concerning was he immediately started snoring and his arm was in a weird upward motion. At this point, I caught Jason's eye who was in the bedroom and waved him to come here. He did, and a few seconds later my dad came to and muttered about being on the floor again and stood up.

I told him to take a seat and I think he did. No, actually, he finished opening the box, checked something on his computer, then sat in the living room. My mom was running errands, so I called her and explained what happened, adding he was acting a bit off, a bit slow? To be fair, he just had a big shock fall.

She said ok and would turn the car around. When she arrived about 10 minutes later, I played it off she came home early on her own. I know my dad; he won't like making a fuss.

Pretty much the rest of the day, she sat by him, asking throughout the day how he felt. He did freely say what happened and asked for an ice pack, but refused to go to the hospital. We told him if it got worse, we would take him. He did fairly quickly start acting normal and not dazed as he had been.

The next day my mom told us he complained about a horrible headache in the front of his head the day prior and she was like "why didn't you say anything!?" "Because you would have made me go to the hospital." Seriously?! Jason and I suspect it did shake him up more than he's acting because the first thing he did was tell Jason's infusion nurse was sharing what happened.

Don't think for advice, but a general I need to share this WTF moment with someone else! Jason thinks I should have called 911, but he could have too. Perhaps when my mom got home, the three of us should have insisted he in the car and go to urgent care, etc. He has a doctor's appointment tomorrow, if specifically made for this or just happened to have one, I don't know.

[galkyrie]

i wish you would write a fic that’s just jason simping for tim, except tim can actually hear it

Oh man poor Jason, let's do this lmao

“Ever since you lost the cowl I’m half convinced I gotta follow you ‘round on patrol to keep you outta trouble.” Hood jokes as he lands on the roof beside Red Robin, easing into his usual spot beside the vigilante. It’d become a routine he enjoyed- them meeting up when their patrols intersected once a week, sharing a few minutes of bullshit or a snack or just the quiet reassurance of the presence of an ally among a city of threats. It was a routine he’d missed while on his last trip with the Outlaws. Judging by the way Tim lights up when he turns to look at him- he’s not the only one.

“I don’t look that young.” Tim answers with a snort before taking a gulp from his water.

“It ain’t about lookin’ young. You’re the kind of pretty no fuckin’ domino can hide, Babybird. Makes a guy worry about your well-being and wanna stare at you all night in the moonlight.” Jason says before he can stop himself, eyes going wide as soon as his brain catches up with his mouth. Tim chokes on his drink, sputtering. He’s still coughing when Jason starts fucking talking again, words falling unbidden from his lips.

“What the fuck. I didn’t mean to say that. I definitely thought it; not like any of that’s exactly new, but-” Tim’s staring at him. Fuck. He wishes he could see the blue of his eyes instead of the white lenses. They’re so pretty at night- turning Gotham’s light pollution into something beautiful reflected back. What he can see of Tim’s face goes pink when he sincerely informs him as much.

“Hood- have you encountered anything strange lately? Maybe on your last mission?” The serious set to his mouth is comforting- at least the man isn’t laughing at him over this. He does his best to try and trace back the last dumb bullshit he encountered was- and let out a horrendous stream of curses as he realizes he’d walked right into this.

Jason hadn’t killed anyone in a long while- well, he hasn’t actively sought out making someone specific dead in a while- but the asshole magic user he and Roy had stopped from draining the life force of an entire town might be the first in a while. “Fuckin’ warlock worshiping Eris, I shit you not.” 

“Wow, I definitely want that story once we figure this out, but- we should- let’s get you to the ‘Cave.” Tim sounds strained. “Maybe we can find a way to reverse this-” 

“Good thinking. You’re so smart, Red. It’s another thing that makes me crazy about you-” A gauntleted hand claps over his mouth before he can volunteer more shit straight from the part of his brain carefully reserved for ‘thoughts on Tim Drake.’ It was supposed to be a vault where he shoved these thoughts as soon as they came and then promptly resealed- but someone had blown the fuckin’ door wide open. That someone was gonna pay. 

“Okay! Right- so this seems like a pretty strong compulsion. So. I can just-” Tim kept his hand over his mouth, looking down and grabbing the hood from his grasp. “-have you made a stealth setting?” Jason nodded against the hand pressing to his lips, not even able to pretend he wasn’t enjoying even this amount of contact. The wizard was going to die for revealing to Tim just how pathetic he was.

“Okay, cool.” Tim nods, apparently pleased with his plan. Jason scrambles to pull on the helmet before he can say anything else, cutting off an invitation for Tim to keep his hands on him halfway through. It muffles the confessions of his affections, allowing him to go on about the many and varied ways he admires Tim in relative privacy. 

He’s not sure it’s better, considering it’s leaving Tim to assume. He should know exactly how he feels in his words- not whatever self-deprecating escape hatch the man in front of him is trying to find in the one-sided silence.

This is humiliating. But try as he might, he can’t bring himself to leave Tim’s side- spare them both the embarrassment of him running his mouth. Seems the compulsion also extended to how badly he wanted to stay close to Tim. Hopefully the physical part of this compulsion didn’t escalate to any other desires. He thought of how he’d gotten back from the mission with almost a single-minded focus on getting to their usual rendezvous point. It was embarrassing to realize he was so used to wanting to be around him that he hadn’t even found skipping dinner in favor of seeking him out to be odd. 

“I’ve got Redbird en route. I don’t want you driving in this state- just ride with me.” Jason nodded, already relieved he didn’t have to focus on the road in his state. He’d much rather watch Tim in action. He’s good at driving- he’s good at everything. He wants- needs to tell him. The hood starts to itch like crazy, a maddening obstacle in his path. 

He manages to grit through the itching for half the drive. “Fuck, that hurts-” are thankfully the first words out of his mouth, though Tim’s looking his way in blatant concern. 

“-You okay?” Tim responding to him immediately eases the ache. 

“-Now that you’re listening, yeah.” He wiped a hand over his face, checking for hives. 

“Oh.” Tim chews on the implications of his words for a moment, before setting his jaw and looking resolutely out the front window. “Then, I’ll keep listening.” It’s all it takes for the floodgates to open. 

“Every day I get to see you is better for it, no matter what shit goes down. You give me one’a your rare little smiles or laugh at something I say and I-.” Tim makes a soft noise, quiet enough that the engine nearly drowns it out, eyes staying on the road. “-I think about it all the time. Making you laugh or smile. Think about what it’d be like to get to take care of you. You don’t take the best care of yourself- like you’re an afterthought and I- you’re not. Not to me.” Oh god, he’s pretty sure he’d prefer the burning to the pained expression that flits across Tim’s pretty features at that- “I’m sorry, Tim-” He scrambles to make that expression go away, anything is better than seeing the man hurting. 

“-I’m sorry.” Tim cuts him off, voice thick as he weaves through traffic with effortless ease. Getting to the ‘Cave and getting him fixed seems to have kicked up to an actual emergency judging by the way he’s driving. The rejection stings. Even if it’s not surprising, that knowing it was the only possible outcome was the reason he’d held it back for as long as he had, it still- hurts. “-you shouldn’t be forced to tell me any of this.” Tim continues, not risking a glance in his direction. Jason’s almost grateful to not have to see the pity undoubtedly in his gaze. 

“I never wanted to put you in this position, Prettybird.” He admits. “I know I’ve got no right to want anything from you-”

“-You haven’t done anything wrong.” Tim grits out, “some asshole magic user forcing this out of you as retribution- I’m so sorry, Jay.” 

Jason’s pretty sure the speed at which they make it to the ‘Cave is a record, tires squealing to a stop once they’re safely inside. Bruce and Alfred are already there, both rushing over. Tim meets them as Jason takes his time getting out of the passenger seat. Tim wasn’t interested- was gently and carefully avoiding even saying as much in a way that made his chest ache in affection and sorrow- and was filling them in on the details. He just- he needed the moment Tim was giving him to get himself together. 

“Jason.” Bruce is heading over once he does get himself under enough control to know he’s not going to start crying in front of the three men. “Can you lie to me?” He does, easily. He lies to Alfred with the same level of difficulty as normal- more than Bruce, but not impossible. 

Turns out he can lie to them about anything but Tim, something he’s sure all three of them regret once he starts answering their questions about the man down to the smallest detail. Bruce and Alfred both have vaguely pained expressions on their faces as he waxes poetic about Tim’s fucking bone structure as he watches the little bird get onto the network and start contacting people who can fix this. 

“Zat’s coming.” Tim interrupts the train of thought he was voicing about how hot it was that Tim was scarily efficient before it can gather too much steam, shooting Jason an apologetic grimace. “Sorry to subject you to Zach but he’s the one that owes me-” 

“Zatanna was not available?” Bruce butts in, shooting Tim a look. 

“No, sorry. Look- I’m not exactly thrilled to call him in either-” Tim pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. It's adorable. Jason’s pretty sure he coos, judging by the pink crawling up Tim’s neck. “He’s gonna give me so much shit for this.” And that wasn’t good- Jason didn’t want to mess anything up for Tim, not with his allies. 

“Prettybird-” He starts, ignoring the way Bruce and Alfred’s eyebrows raise at the endearment, “you don’t gotta waste a favor on me-” 

“-You deserve to keep your feelings to yourself,” and Tim deserves not to have to hear them, “and Zat’s not that bad.” He assures with a wave of his hand and a small smile. 

Jason can’t help but disagree once he meets the guy. For one, he spends a solid five minutes laughing after Tim explains the situation. He’s not much better about it once he’s actually performing the ritual to tease out the details of his specific curse. “Sorry,” Zat says with a smirk sent Tim’s way that makes Jason kinda want to smack him. “I’ve got an antidote- but you’re not gonna like it.” 

“I’ll do whatever-” 

“Unfortunately, you can’t fix it. Eris is the goddess of chaos, and apparently the most chaotic way to mess with you is to make you honest with Red about something I’m assuming you were never gonna get the nerve to say.” Zach doesn’t wait for him to respond, gesturing to Tim. “The only way to break the curse is to get this boy to be honest back. Couldn’t have been crafted more expertly if they’d known who the object of your heart’s desire was. Sorry, man.” 

Tim blanched, eyes widening behind the domino in a brief flash of panic before smoothing out into a forced calm. Oh. Jason’s heart clenches at the thought, of having to hear the rejection Tim had been delicately skating around since this started. It was inevitable, had been since the moment he’d started feeling this way, but- fuck, this wasn’t fair. 

“Okay, then. Thanks Zat. I’ll um- do that.” Zach snorts, somewhat disbelieving, but does take his leave. Tim fidgets once the man is gone, peeling off his domino and eyeing Bruce and Alfred. “Can you guys, uh. Give us a minute?” Tim was so sweet, letting him down easy in private. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d be cured and able to slink away to lick his wounds without having to see the other two men until he was well and truly over it.

“Tim, you don’t gotta be so worried about how I’m gonna take it, I already know-” He rushes to assure him once the two men made their way up to the manor. His heart had been broken the moment he realized this conversation was inevitable- 

“-I’m sorry,” Tim looks up at him, blue eyes wide, “I know you didn’t want me to know and it’s not fair that this is how I found out-” he lets out a harsh sigh, visibly gathering his courage before continuing, “I-” Tim cuts himself off, making a frustrated noise and shaking his head.

He apparently decides using words for honesty is too hard, because he stalks into Jason’s space and yanks him down into a kiss by the collar of his jacket. Jason’s arms reflexively circle his waist, pulling him in close before he realizes what’s happening. He’s dazed, staring down at him in disbelief when Tim breaks the kiss. “I’m bad with this stuff. You’re- even like this-” 

“You like me?” Jason’s grinning, giddy disbelief lacing his voice. 

“Obviously-” 

“Why didn’t you just say that?” 

“You’re magically cursed! I don’t wanna- I can’t take advantage of that-” Jason pulls him into the kiss this time, humming as Tim slides up against him and wraps his arms around his shoulders to deepen the embrace. 

“I suddenly don’t feel like killing that asshole warlock anymore.” Jason quips, beaming a grin down at a pretty dazed looking Tim. “Maybe I’ll send him a fruit basket.”

“Oh, fuck that. We’re still ruining his day- this should’ve been on our terms and he’s gonna learn why.” This time, when Jason bends down to whisper just how hot he finds that mean streak of his and watches in delight as Tim turns another shade of pink, it’s completely under his own power.

[michael-fucking-myers1978]

Bad dad jokes with the slashers

Warnings: cussing and bad puns

Baby Firefly:

Dad jokes and puns are like candy to Baby. She loves them. You both annoy her family with corny jokes all the time. Her favorite are the question and answer ones. She waits for you to bring them up in conversation and giggles like a mad man when you drop the punch line. You two could be talking about food or some random thing and all of a sudden you ask “Hey Baby. Did you hear about the baguette at the zoo?” then Baby starts giggling while her family lets out exasperated sighs. “No can’t say I have Y/n,” she says through her giggles “It was bread in captivity” cue the groans from everyone else and the howling laughter from Mother and Baby

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms is on the fence about dad jokes. There are some really good ones but you always manage to find the corniest ones. An example of this would be when you both sat down to watch Pirates Of The Caribbean and halfway through the movie you ask him “Why can’t pirates recite the alphabet.” Poor thing thinks it’s an actual historical fact coming up but no it’s “Because they get lost at C” Brahms pauses the movie and gets up and leaves for about half an hour while you laugh at your own joke.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba loves bad jokes and puns but not when he’s trying to prepare a victim. You come downstairs from your room after he just killed someone and go to the fridge before knocking on it. Drayton asks what the hell you were doing to which you reply “You should always knock on the fridge before you open it.” Nubbins ask why you say that “There could be a salad dressing” Everyone in the room sighs and Drayton even threatens you if you make another horrible joke like that again.

Jason Voorhees:

Jason has a love-hate relationship with puns. On one hand, you love them. On the other, they are so bad. After killing some teens for their partying too close to your house he decided to dig a grave for them to hide the bodies. You brought two shovels and started working. It was quiet until you started to giggle to yourself. Jason stopped and tilted his head to inquire what was so funny “Just thinking about the shovel. It’s quite a ground-breaking invention.” You said. Jason took your shovel and pointed to the house. “Aw you love my puns so don’t pretend you don’t” He kept pointing at the house as you walked away laughing like a madman.

Michael Myers:

Michael despises puns. He hates it when you come up with “funny” quips about everything under the sun. One day you both were on the couch. Michael had you on his lap while you were watching a horror movie. You decided to mess with him and say this as the main character went to investigate a noise at the top of some stairs “I don’t trust stairs,” you paused “they’re always up to something” That’s when Micheal pushed you off of him to the other side of the couch and continued to fend you off the rest of the movie.

Sal Fisher (Sally face):

Sal loves puns. He and Larry always make stupid puns all the time. When you were introduced to Larry it got one thousand times worse. After the whole “I wish I was dead” situation you decided to get help and started to take antidepressants. Every time you ran out you would say the same thing. “Whoever stole my antidepressants I hope you’re fucking happy.” You knew nobody stole them but it made you and Sal laugh regardless. Larry even started in on the joke and started to reply “Don’t worry, I am.”

Yautja (Both genders unless specified):

Yautja have their own kinds of jokes but puns are something they really don’t understand. Once you start explaining the reason for puns they get it quickly and laugh along with you. One day you decided to mess with them by saying “My mate says I’m getting fat, but in my defense, I’ve had a lot on my plate recently.” At first, your mate was mortified by what you said and argued they never said that. Once they realize it was a pun they laugh it off saying “Silly ooman, always telling jokes.”

[citrinesparkles]

welcome home.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 2,086 words. notes: requested by an incredibly flattering anon as part of my hundred followers celebration! thank you again for the feedback, and for enabling me :) also was subconsciously influenced by this piece. warnings: arguing, discussion of danger, reader gets accidentally threatened, patching up wounds, lots more swearing than my usual (but it's all mild language). angst and comfort, i think. super dialogue heavy. this is so long and a little (lot) messy just. prepare yourself

"man," a robotic voice echoed dangerously through the dark living room, sending chills through you. "did you pick the wrong apartment."

luckily, the voice was familiar. "um, the one i live in?"

he choked out your name, startled, and you flicked on the light switch to find him frozen in place with a gun in his hand.

"right." you said tensely, glancing at it- which made him jerk his hand down, shoving the gun into its holster as though it burned him- and looking back up at the eyes of his helmet. "so, uh, i'll turn a light on next time."

"you shouldn't be home yet," he said stiffly.

"i texted you like, three hours ago to let you know i'd be home a day early."

he swore quietly. "my phone's in the river."

"how did it- you know what, at least that explains the radio silence. you didn't think to have someone else- anyone else- let me know?"

"uh." he paused, tensing almost imperceptibly for a moment. "no. i was, uh, i was busy. i'm sorry."

"busy, huh?" something felt very wrong, and not just the fact that he had nearly shot you. "okay, i'll bite, busy with what?"

"nothing important."

the sinking feeling in your stomach intensified and your eyes narrowed dangerously. "important enough that you forgot to tell me you weren't dead in an alley somewhere, when you knew i'd be texting to check in anyway. leaving me worrying in a hotel room in another city."

"nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about." you were really getting sick of the sound of his modulator, but he continued before you could say anything. "go back to what you were doing, babe."

"yeah... uh, no." you stepped forwards and he flinched back defensively, making you freeze. "seriously, what is up with you tonight?"

"noth-"

"jason, i promise if you say nothing one more time, i'm going to lose my mind."

he shifted his foot back slightly, and you took a deep breath.

"okay," you conceded, raising your hands up in surrender and moving backwards yourself. "respecting your space now. that wasn't my best decis-"

your voice cut out when something under his jacket caught your eye.

something red.

"holy crap, jason, what the hell?"

he winced quietly. "you weren't supposed to be home yet, okay?"

"take that stupid helmet off already, would you?" you snapped, already moving to get the first aid kit.

"i would've gone somewhere else if i'd known, okay?" his voice, now clear and crisp without the filter, followed you down the hall.

"that does not make this better!"

"can you please not yell at me right now?"

you dashed back into the room, shooting a vicious glare at him. "jacket."

he slid it off gingerly, dropping it on the couch next to his helmet.

"can you get the armor, or do i need to help?"

even despite the domino mask he was wearing, you could tell he was rolling his eyes. "if i couldn't do it on my own, why would i have come here if i didn't think you'd be home?"

"hm," you took the piece he handed you and carefully set it on the couch, "maybe because you're a stubborn jackass?"

he grunted, sliding his undershirt off and passing it to you. "i don't wanna stain the couch with that."

"your priorities suck."

"it's the nicest piece of furniture we own!"

"it's still a couch!"

"it was expensive!"

"oh for crying out loud-" you threw your hands up again, this time in frustration. "fine! fine. i'll go put this in the tub and get a soak going. you-" you shoved the kit towards him pointedly- "start washing that off."

"how come you're calling the shots?" he snapped back petulantly.

"because my torso's in one piece."

"i have way more experience with this, i should be making the decisions here."

"oh, of course, my apologies!" your voice was absolutely dripping in sarcasm. "what, pray tell, would you have us do?"

he scowled at you for a moment before reaching for the first aid kit and flicking the lid open. "whatever."

you turned on your heel, stomping into the bathroom.

the shirt got thrown into the tub and the tap got tossed all the way on, and as the water crashed into the gray fabric, you took the opportunity to squeeze your eyes shut and breathe deeply.

you opened your eyes a minute later, finding the water dyed a rusty almost-red from blood.

his blood.

you turned off the tap- gently pushed the handle, this time, the fire in your chest now largely extinguished- and made your way back to the living room to find him running a rag over the space below his ribs.

"may i?" you asked softly, stopping a few feet away and holding a hand out to him.

his jaw clenched and relaxed three times in quick succession, but he finally sighed and dropped his shoulders before holding the rag out. "yeah, c'mere."

you worked in silence, being as gentle as possible. jerking your hand back and mumbling apologies when he hissed.

"s'okay, comes with the territory."

you pressed the alcohol-soaked towel back against him, and he sighed.

"that was stupid, huh."

a small laugh escaped you. "it so was."

"can we..."

"try that again?"

"yeah."

you pulled back, standing up straight to meet his eyes. "only if i can take the dumb mask off of you."

"i thought you liked the mask," he teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"jason."

he chuckled, wincing again when it jostled his wounds. "ouch. uh, yeah, mask. g'head."

you gently pulled it from his face, setting it neatly on his other gear before running your thumbs across the line of adhesive it left on his cheekbones. "hi there."

"hey." he leaned into your touch, vibrant eyes fluttering halfway shut. "so uh, welcome home."

"thanks. could've done without the gun, though."

a choking sound tore from his throat, his eyes flying back open. "holy shit, baby, i almost-" he jerked back from you, no regard for his side. "you almost- shit, shit, are you- i'm so sorry, i didn't-"

"okay, woah, hey-"

"i could have killed you."

it was a whisper, horrified and harsh, and while it was technically true, his tone teetered on the edge of a dark space you had seen before and really didn't want him falling back into.

"yeah."

you desperately searched for the right thing to say, rejecting variations of "but hey, you didn't actually", "maybe you should be more careful about waving a gun at people", and one particularly unhelpful "no shit, sherlock".

finally, you settled on a quiet, calm "but i'm still right here, okay?"

his hand flew up to cover his mouth, doing absolutely nothing to hide the near panic written on his features. "i could have killed you."

"okay, so, in the future, we'll... we'll uh, we'll come up with some kind of system for letting you know when i'm home, or something."

"oh, like a phone?" he asked harshly. "the one i was stupid and sloppy enough to dunk in the harbor?"

"that wasn't- i'm guessing that you had a lot on your plate." you waved the cold, bloody towel in your hand at his wounds. it made him curl in on himself slightly, stepping backwards again until his back hit the arm of the couch.

"no excuses. i could have killed you."

"i-"

"no, i almost shot without saying anything!" he exclaimed, brow furrowed and eyes stormy. "i thought someone had broken in, and i got so- i don't even know, damn territorial or some stupid shit- that i almost put a bullet between your eyes. i could have-"

"jason!"

he screwed his eyes shut and dropped his head, roughly tugging his fingers through his hair. "i almost-"

"but you didn't. okay?" every fiber of your being wanted to hold him, to tug him into you and put his hand against your ribs and show him you were okay and breathing, heart still pumping, but he looked enough like a cornered animal that you half expected him to bite you if you tried. "c'mon, jaybird. a life like yours, can you really afford almosts?"

"life like mine, i can't afford to let anyone close to me. apparently, if the goons and thugs don't kill you, i will."

"that's not-"

"what if i hadn't said something?" he snapped venomously. "what if i'd lost more blood and was loopy from it? what if i'd come home with a concussion- again- and didn't think past 'point and shoot'?"

"jason," you finally interjected. "you think i haven't thought about that?"

his eyes, grim and vicious and so full of emotion that you thought you could drown in them, dropped to the floor.

"because it's not a secret that your life is risky. you're risky. i know that. but you're worth every ounce of danger, okay? i'm choosing this, choosing you, knowing full well what i'm getting into, because you're worth all of it."

"i'm not worth any of it."

"that's not your call to make."

"it-"

"you think i need you to make my choices for me?"

"no, of course not."

"you think im stuck here?"

"do you feel like you are?"

"absolutely not." you inched forward again. "i'm here because i want to be."

"...i just... i don't..."

"don't want me to get hurt?"

he finally looked back up at you, eyes watery and jaw tense. "or worse."

"i know, baby. i know," you sighed. "but that's part of life, right? and if the hurt's inevitable, i want the rest of my time to be as nice as possible, and you make my life better. make me better."

"by putting you in danger?"

"it's gotham, handsome, i'm gonna be in danger either way. at least with you, i know i have someone looking out for me. right?"

"always," he said immediately.

"okay then." you took the last step between the two of you slowly, watching for any resistance. meeting none, you brushed your knuckles against his. "i can't think of anywhere i'd feel safer."

"you know that's crazy, right?"

you hummed quietly. "nah."

"i'm being serious."

"me too."

he studied your face silently. you smiled softly at him.

finally, a sigh escaped him and he scooted his hand forward, wrapping his index finger around your own and squeezing gently. "you're sure you want this? i can set you up with a place downtown for a bit. you'd never have to see me again, never have to worry about... all of this."

"i've never been more sure of anything." you said it firmly, confidently, letting the words hang in the air for a few moments before popping one eyebrow up playfully. "why, need to make room for a side piece?"

a startled choking sound escaped him. "excuse me?"

"i mean, when you were talking about being busy, it felt kinda suspicious."

"what is wrong with you?" he asked, exasperation and laughter coating his voice.

"listen, you were being evasive!" his head fell forwards, resting on your shoulder as he laughed.

"i didn't want you to know i was bleeding all over the place!"

"why, didn't want me to worry?"

"exactly!"

you reached your free hand up, gently resting it on the back of his head and playing with his hair. "then maybe, just maybe, you should have gotten someone to tell me your phone went for a swim."

"fair enough."

you stood quietly for a long time, running your fingers through his hair and enjoying the feeling of his breath against your collar.

"i..." he muttered, pulling back to look in your eyes. "i don't think- um. i don't think i'm..." he groaned, gaze darting to the ceiling. "i love you. but the minute you have enough of- of all of this-"

"i won't."

"but if you do, i'll... i'll understand, okay?"

you squeezed his finger gently. "okay." you inhaled deeply, dropping the bloody towel you were still clutching and slid your hand forward to hold his completely. "can we get a bandage on that and go to bed, now?"

"....yes please."

---

"wait!" you yelled, throwing the first aid kit haphazardly onto the bathroom counter and racing after him into the bedroom, where he whirled around with wide eyes. "i love you too! i never said it back- i love you too."

"don't yell like that- i thought something was wrong!"

"me not saying it back is urgently wrong, jason!"

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[ragingbookdragon]

I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 6

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy @foreverthefloor @natatawa-ako (I discounted the names of those whose blogs I couldn't tag! Y'all gotta get that figured out on your end!)

Author's Note: And here we are with the long awaited PT. 6 after like...five days of hiatus. FLASHBACK TIME. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The silver doors closed in his face and Wally couldn’t find it in himself to turn around and face the family behind. She wasn’t wrong for being upset and hostile, but something deep down inside naively assumed there would’ve been a teary reunion at the end of the night.

He hung his head and sighed heavily, turning around to pay the piper. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I thought…I thought I could—”

“How could you keep this from us!” Dick interrupted, angrily thrusting the letter towards Bruce. “We could’ve done more to find her! Released some statement about this! Told her earlier that she was wrong!”

Bruce’s face still held that indomitable impassivity as he responded calmly, “Dick, it would’ve caused more problems for us all if we’d released something pertaining to the information on the letter.”

“And making up some bullshit about (Y/N) fucking off to Europe was the betteroption?” Jason retorted, pointing at his father as he accused, “All those letters and pictures she supposedly sent were bullshit too, weren’t they?” He scoffed. “Of course they were. She’s been living here for the last three years.”

Tim, who’d been silent as his brothers delivered their harsh criticisms, murmured, “Bruce has a point guys.”

“Seriously?” Jason replied, eyes wide in shock. “You’re defending this?”

“Putting out the information in the letter would’ve made it seem like Bruce was irresponsible and inattentive to us.”

“But we—”

“Jason, Child Services would’ve conducted investigations into the manor.” Tim leveled him with a serious expression. “They could’ve taken me and Damian if they found things not to their likings.”

Jason went silent in agreement, but his pursed lips told Tim that he didn’t like it, and the rest of them matched the stillness.

Wally collapsed into the seat beside Dick. “I’m sorry, Dick,” he murmured remorsefully. “I thought I could help fix things.”

Dick was silent for a long time, then he sighed and shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Wally. You did the best you could.” He turned his blue eyes onto the speedster. “If anything, it was ours for cornering her.” He rubbed his temples. “I should’ve listened to you the first time when you told me to meet in Central instead of doing…this. She might’ve felt less threatened if we hadn’t ganged up on her.”

Wally looked away, the memory of (Y/N)’s disappearance still fresh in his mind and replaying as if it was still happening.

***

He could count on one hand how many times things had actually unnerved him to his core, and this one by far topped every instance of dread filled panic. And it certainly wasn’t the ecstatic atmosphere of Wayne-Family-Pizza-Fridays that was drilling him so hard—it was the confession that kept slipping onto his tongue, forcing him to swallow it down to avoid ruining everything.

“Wally, you good?”

His eyes darted to Jason’s, who were uncharacteristically concerned, and he gave a tight smile. “Yeah man, just chilling.”

Jason snorted. “You look like you’ve got a stick up your a—your butt,” he finished when Alfred’s glare hit him.

“Sorry, just thinking about some things.” He took a piece of pizza from one of the boxes, handing it to Cass who silently held her plate out, then proceeded to get himself one. “Don’t let me stop the story,” he quipped, and Jason shook his head, but went back into some story about kicking Two-Face’s ass the other night.

Maybe he should tell Dick later? Wouldn’t that be better than telling the whole family? A frown etched onto his face as he chewed, but it all tasted bitter. (Y/N) didn’t want to be found and she seemed pretty adamant about it as well. Maybe she was right? Maybe they did ignore her a lot. Bruce doesn’t exactly have the best track record of keeping up with all his kids, I mean look at Jason. And then everybody else gets sidetracked in their own lives and things just get forgotten along the way. Was she one of those things? Their own sister? No, they couldn’t—

Laughter exploded across the table, Cass pressing her face into Tim’s arm to stifle her giggles, Stephanie cackling at Tim for snorting soda out of his nose, and that just set everyone off again. Dick and Damian pointing at Tim while their faces turned red from laughing so hard, Jason was crying at that point, and surprisingly, Barbara and Bruce had their heads in their hands. The only one not laughing was Wally.

“I know where (Y/N) is.” He blurted and the table went dead quiet as everyone stared at him.

For a full minute, no one said a word.

“What did you just say?” Dick asked and Wally swallowed, looking at him.

“I…I know where (Y/N) is.” He looked at Bruce and that weighted stare made the words fall right out of his mouth. “She’s been living in Central under the alias Melisandre Hale. Has been for the last three years.”

“What,” Dick started, but shook his head like he couldn’t comprehend. “What are you talking about, Wally? (Y/N)’s in Italy.”

Wally shook his head. “No, Dick, she’s not. And she never was. She left three years ago and has been living a completely different life up until now.”

“Until now?” Jason repeated. “What do you mean until now?”

“Dick and the other Titans came to hang out in Central two months ago and Melisan—(Y/N)mentioned herself. Rather curiously I might add.” He shrugged. “Now that I think about it, that was her way of dipping a toe into the water to see the ripples. To see where she was in the grand scheme of things.”

His eyes drifted to Dick’s. “When I showed you her picture you offhandedly commented on how similar they looked to one another and that night—”

“You went to confront her,” Dick finished, eyes flashing, and Wally wasn’t sure if it was from anger or sadness or some other heavy emotion the eldest brother was feeling about his baby sister. “…How’d she react when you did?”

Wally sighed, slouching in the hardwood chair. “Not in the positive, Dick.” He glanced at Bruce. “She doesn’t want to be found. And she certainly doesn’t want to be met by anyone. Especially…especially anyone here.”

“(Y/N)’s our sister,” Tim retorted. “What do you mean she doesn’t want to meet us?” he was already rising from his seat and that seemed to spark every brother to do so.

Wally’s hand shot out, wrapping around Dick’s wrist. “Dick, I’m being serious. Don’t corner her. Let me handle this.”

Dick tried to pull away, but he held tight. “You will handle this. We’ll all handle it together.”

“You don’t understand, Dick. If you want this to play out the way you’re planning, you need to come to Central alone with me.” He gazed at the others. “We need Dick to do this himself and then we can see about bringing her back here.”

Jason scowled. “With all due respect Wally, she’s our sister. Not yours.”

And with that, Dick pulled away firmly and Wally watched as the lot headed for the cave, the young women and Bruce still seated at the dinner table. He groaned and put his head in his hands, knowing this was going to come back to bite him in the ass.

“Wally,” someone said quietly. “Is she okay?”

He looked up, meeting Bruce’s eyes. His mouth opened, ready to lie, but he sighed and shook his head. “No,” he answered honestly. “(Y/N) isn’t the shy girl I remember. Especially when I confronted her. She was…cold and indifferent.” His mouth drew into a taut line and he stared at Bruce. “This isn’t going to end well, isn’t it?”

Bruce wiped his mouth on the napkin in his lap then stood from his seat, pushing in the chair behind him. “No, Wally. No, it’s not.”

***

He shook the memory away and instead of looking at any of the brothers, he looked at Bruce. “So, what do we do now?”

“We go find her and bring her back to Gotham, that’s what we do,” Jason griped, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No,” Bruce said firmly. “If (Y/N) wants to stay here, then we’ll let her.”

“WHAT?!” all three of the boys around him shouted in unison, their eyes practically bulging out of their heads.

He merely looked on. “We’ll wait for her to meet us halfway.”

“And what if she tries to leave again?” Dick questioned angrily and Bruce turned his slate gray eyes to him.

“We’ll know.”

“How?” Tim asked. “If she left the first time, what’s stopping her from leaving again?”

Wally cleared his throat and if he were a lesser man, he would’ve cowered under their withering glares as he admitted, “Actually, I tagged (Y/N) with a bug.”

“You did what?” Jason questioned, brows furrowing.

“I tagged a pocket in her purse with a bug when she wasn’t paying attention earlier in the car.”

“And you’re sure she won’t just throw that purse away? She left the house with money and a suitcase of necessities. A purse doesn’t seem that way.”

Wally snorted and crossed his arms. “(Y/N)’s purse is a Givenchy black bag that she found at a thrift store for thirty dollars. She might be a different person after living on minimum wage, but deep down she’s still a billionaire’s daughter who can’t help but love expensive things.” He grinned rather cockily. “She’s not going to get rid of a two-thousand-dollar purse she found for thirty. Even if she throws away everything else she’s got.”

He shifted his gaze to Bruce. “I think waiting for her is a good option, but you might want to do something more.”

“Like what?” Tim asked.

Wally shrugged. “Write her personal letters. The semester ends in three months and she won’t leave before it does, or she’ll have to pay those classes off.” He stared them down. “You’ve got three months to wear her down into staying on grid before she goes off again.” His eyes hardened. “And you know as well as I that if she goes off…we won’t find her ever again.”