#but add money to the mix and no thank you
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Put it on My Tab 14
Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader
Warning:
Working with customers, rude customer, that stressful work life is all the rage these days
A/N:
Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!
As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.
If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.
“I can help the next customer in line over here!” Y/N shouted over the din of the teenagers that came flooding in after school. It was a mix of private school uniforms and fashionable public school students flaunting their name brand accessories and latest phones. It really was a marvel to see how carelessly they would just flash their parents’ money as if it was their own hard earned pay. “Next customer in line, please.” She spoke a little louder and watched as a rather quiet but handsome looking teenager walked up. It was obvious that his clothing was well made, tailored to fit him, but it lacked the flashy logos that everyone else was wearing. A public school kid? He looks like he’s a couple years younger than me. A senior perhaps? “Welcome, what would you like for me to get started for you today?” She cordially asked, though once again, there was something about him. Just like the young detective, she felt like she needed to be cautious.
“A large cup black eye with ristretto, light sugar, and a bear claw.”
“Did you want me to exchange the espresso with the ristretto or did you want me to add it with the espresso?” She hesitantly questioned, eyeing him a bit suspiciously. There was no sign of major fatigue aside from the slight bags under his lids. It was not uncommon to see some exhausted seniors who diligently worked to keep their top marks, but there was an edge to him. His gaze was not hazy from exhaustion. On the contrary it was sharp, too sharp.
“Add it to the drink and warm the pastry, please.” He pulled out his wallet and waited for her to ring him up.
A lot more crazy coffee drinkers on this side of Gotham than I originally thought. She hesitated for a moment before pressing the necessary buttons on the screen. “For here or to go?”
“Here.”
“The name for the order?”
“Tim.”
“Ok, your total comes out to $11.48, will you be paying cash or card?”
“Cash,” he quickly pulled out a $20 bill and handed it to her. The drawer sprung open with a ring and she handed him the change as she closed it.
“Please have a seat, we’ll call your name when your order is ready.” She gave him another cordial smile, waiting for him to move so the next customer could come up, but the young man called Tim did not budge. An awkward silence stretched between the two of them as he simply silently stared at her. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thanks.” He shook his head and dropped the change in the jar in front of her and left. Citlalli came over from her right, watching Tim as he sat down.
“Everything ok?” She whispered to Y/N who moved over to start his order.
“Yeah, we’ve dealt with much weirder things.” She shrugged it off to help ignore the sense of unease Tim gave her.
“True, but he was just standing there, staring at you.” She frowned, scanning the dining area quickly to see Tim watching them. “And he’s still watching you.”
“He’s probably thinking about what else he might want to order. Customers do it all the time, ordering one thing only to consider adding something else after the fact.” Y/N casually brushed it off. “You’re thinking too much about it, he’s just an overly caffeinated burnt out studious senior wishing for the school year to end already.”
“I guess,” Citlalli bit into her lower lip as concern for the safety of her dear friend doubled with her current streak of luck. “If he gives you any trouble, oi! Look at me, mija!” She grabbed Y/N’s face, squishing her cheeks while making her look at her. “You tell me right away. I'll have his ass kicked out at full speed!” She snapped her fingers after relinquishing Y/N’s face. “You've been through enough between that bill, my dumbass cousin, and the sudden midnight order that broke the window. Let me help where I can.”
“Thanks, Cici, I will, I promise. He's just like any other awkward teen trying to get out of high school that would pay big money for a coffee IV drip and I'm going to treat him as such. If he pulls any funny business, you'll be the first to know.” Y/N gently squeezed one of Citlalli’s shoulders before returning her attention to complete the order and call out to him for pick up.
The next few customers were of the usual variety, a majority of them ordering the sugar loaded ice blended drinks regardless of how cold some of the days have been. It was the technical orders with the highly detailed instructions that irked her.
If they think this is so easy to do, why don't they just go home and make it themselves? If I ever find out who came to with this ridiculous and disgusting sounding flavor combo, I'll throttle ‘em! She shared frustrated looks with her fellow baristas. It was clear that this drink would be burning through some of their supplies quickly.
When the fruity whipped up topping heavy blended drinks were completed, they were placed out for pick up by her coworker while Y/N went back to the register.
Tim quietly watched his person of interest deal with the complex orders and demanding customers. The smile plastered on her face the entire time was an impressive feat. One obnoxious customer was one too many in his opinion, but there was nothing that he could do and he knew any retaliation on her end would lead to disciplinary actions against her. She was responsible, respectful, and resilient; but none of this information got him any closer to solving the mystery that was her.
The customer is always right, like hell they are. He rolled his eyes at the passing thought. She’s smart, but is it enough to grab attention? What did she do with the ‘tip’ Dick gave her? Why did he think to give her that? What am I missing? He knows her, somehow. I need to figure out how. He finished the last of his order and stood up, tossing his trash and quietly leaving the establishment. He would need to observe her for longer and possibly try to gain some insight from the other customers and staff.
The daytime quickly became dark, the days slowly growing shorter as autumn progressed. The number of customers dwindled down as the evening hours struck. There were still a few lingering customers with their laptops, typing away. The loyalty customers occasionally came to the counter for the complimentary refill on regular coffee while the non-rewards customers ordered something different each time. Citlalli had gone home for the evening and soon it was simply Y/N and two other baristas as a few late night customers came in.
“Hello, what would you like to order?” Y/N smiled at the older woman. Much like all the other customers, she was well dressed and carried a designer bag. Her long sharp acrylics were clicking and tapping against every surface she touched as she looked through the large bag for something. Finding whatever it was, she kept her hand inside to hold whatever it was.
“Hi, I would like to order a medium iced mocha macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot of espresso. Have the mocha drizzle divided equally in the bottom and on top of the foam, with light ice. Add 3 pumps of caramel syrup, 2 pumps of toffee nut syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. Serve it in a grande cup with a separate cup of ice on the side and a packet of sweetner.” She kindly smiled back after quickly running through the instructions. Any relief Y/N had felt froze up in her veins at the complex order that was thrown at her.
“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that a little slower? I want to make sure I have it down correctly.” The older woman pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Thank you for your understanding in wanting to make sure your specific drink is made exactly as you ordered.” Y/N added for good measure. It seemed to do the trick as she nodded and slowly repeated the overly complicated order slower. Y/N read it back to her for verification before ringing out the order. “You can have a seat, we’ll call you when your order is ready, Susan. Thank you, again, for being a loyal customer.” She added, this was something their boss insisted they say to reward members.
“Ah, ah, I’m not done just yet!” Susan pulled out her hidden hand which held one of their decorative cups. “I bought this from your store and last time I was here I couldn’t help bit notice the little shelf over here.” She pointed to her left.
“Ah, yes, that is our discount shelf. Anything on that shelf is 30 to 40% off.”
“Exactly, and this thermos is on that shelf. You can see it on the second shelf towards the left over there.” Y/N leaned over to rhe left a bit to get a better view from the register before nodding her head.
“Looks like it’s there, so yes, it’s on sale now. Did you want to buy another one?” She offered, though she was not entirely sure why Susan brought her thermos. “Oh, did you want your drink made in your cup?”
“No, well yes, but that’s not why I’m bringing this up.”
“No, you didn't want to buy or no, don't use the cup?” Y/N frowned, unsure which answer went to which question.
“No, I do not want to buy another one. Yes, put my drink in here. The reason I am talkimg about this is because I am upset. When I bought this thermos, I paid full price.” Y/N silently stared at Susan for a few seconds, unsure where this was even going as she took the cup and placed it with the ticket for use.
“Yes, because it was full price when you purchased it.’
“Do you see the issue here?”
“No, I do not. What is the issue?”
“Well, why is it on sale now?”
“We’re clearing out the overstock we have of those designs to make room for new designs.” She calmly explained.
“Ok, the problem is that I paid full price for a product that you’re get it rid of anyway.”
“Well, this sale started a week ago. This style thermos was brand new or one of the newer products when you bought it, so it was not on sale. If you bought this cup anytime prior to a week ago, you would have paid full price..”
“Exactly, you see how this is discriminatory, right?”
“Driscriminatory,” she repeated the word and watched Susan nodd her head excitedly. “How?”
“Yes, you can see how this is discriminating against customers, like myself, who bought this before the sale!” She eagerly explained.
“Uh, no, you just happened to buy it before it was put on sale. We don't have control over which tumbler or thermos will sell out or not. This particular design had a few items left, so they are now on sale.”
“Ok, here is the cup and here is my receipt.” Susan continued to push through, ignoring everything that Y/N was explaining to her. “I would greatly appreciate it if you gave me the difference of the discount in cash.” She held out the thermal sheet of paper. Y/N took the slip, checking the date to see if there was something that could be done.
“Firstly, this was charged on a card. If I were to refund the difference, it would go back onto your card. That can't be done though, because you purchased this three months ago. This is proof that you did and are ineligible for a refund of the difference due to the current sale that has been placed three months after your purchase.”
“And why not?!” Susan snapped as she became more and more irate as the conversation went on.
If you listened to a single word I’ve said thus far instead of soewing your tosic stupidity all over the place, maybe you’d already know the answer! “Because you bought it three months before the sale.”
“Young lady, this is completely unfair! If you were going to put it on sale, you should’ve never put it at full price! This is robbery! I am due proper compensation for such poor financial etiquette and discrimination!” Her voice grew shrill as she raised it. All Y/N wanted to do was slap a piece of tape over the brighgly colored lips of the annoying customer and chuck the troublesome cup out the door with her.
“The only thing I am allowed to do is offer you another one at the discounted price. I cannot do anything else.”
“This is the most horrid customer service I have ever had in my life! How can you just stand there and deny a loyal paying customer what they want?! Where is your manager, I demand to speak with them!”
“I am the acting manager at this time.”Lucky me-not! “Even if I weren’t, the manager would have said the very same thing.”
“All you little brats act as a manager when it’s conveninet to you! I swear, this generation is nothing but trouble, full of disrespect, and lying! I want to speak with the owner, Donavan, yes I do know him.” She smugly smirked.
“Mr. D is not in at this moment. He left for the evening two hours ago and will be back tomorrow. You’re welcomed to come back at that time and speak with him.” Y/N flatly answered.
“No, call him now.” she slammed her manicured hand onto the counter, scaring some of the other customers and the other barista. A throbbing pain started to grow at Y/N’s temples as she took a few moments to keep her cool and not risk her job with a harsh response.
“Why don’t you call him? Since you say you know him so well, call him. Let him know that you’re harrassing his employee for doing her job and following his rules implemented in his establishment.” A calm male voice called out from the end of the line. Everyone turned to find the owner, only to see a tall and strong looking biker with a helmet. He stepped forward others made room for him. Pulling off his helmet, Y/N’s jaw fell open from shock at seeing Jason standing there.
He rides a motorcycle?! Of course he does! Wait, that’s not important! He’s going to cause trouble if this crazy lady actually calls Mr. D! Before she could try to de-escelate the situation, Jason turned so his back was to the register as he looked down at the rowdy customer. Y/N watched Susan’s face go from angry red to a blush pink the moment she laid eyes on the handsome young man. Straightening up her posture and adjusting her clothing, she turned to face Jason.
“I know how this might look just walking in, but she has been quite insolent this entire time. I am merely trying to teach her her place.” Her voice was calmer, sweeter, thick like molasses kind of sweet over a honeyed tone.
“Not from what I’ve seen since you walked up here. Did you forget you nearly hit a biker with your car and cursed them out? Hi, that biker was me. Now, get your drink and sit quietly or leave, or you can call the owner and he can check the CC footage to see what happened. You pick,” he calmly repeated. Y/N was not able to see the look in his eyes, but she could tell from the way Susan’s face paled that he was very intimidating. She quickly gathered her things, snatching the receipt as she hurried away to wait for her drink.
“Thanks for the help. I’m sorry you had to step in like that.” The genuine smile of relief she gave him was a direct shot to his heart, and the vigilante was none the wiser why. It injected warmth into his veins and filled his chest with immeasurable pride.
“Don’t mention it, I told you, I save damsels in distress. You just happen to be in distress more often than most.” He smirked and winked at her, earning an eye roll in response. “I’ll have to insist you clock out for the rest of the day though. You look exhausted and after all of that, you deserve a free night at the least.”
“Go on, Y/N. I’ll handle her drink. We told Cici already and she said to just clock out for the shift. She’s on her way now.” A coworker nudged her towards the back. “Don't keep your boyfriend waiting!”
“Yeah, you've covered enough of our shifts, go have fun!” The other joined in, ushering her through the back doors without giving her a chance to explain that they were not together like that. All she could do was sigh in defeat as she headed to the staff room to clock out and grab her things. This was a misunderstanding that could easily be fixed next time.
Returning to the front of the store, she avoided lengthy eye contact with her coworkers who were clearly having too much fun with this turn of events. One kept wiggling their eyebrows while the other was a fit of giggles. “C’mon Wonder Boy, let's go.” She grabbed his arm and led him back out the doors.
Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x fem!reader#y/n#jason todd fic#red hood x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x female reader#jason todd x you#jason peter todd#jason todd x female!reader#red hood fanfic#red hood x you#red hood fanfiction#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x y/n#your name#reader insert#batman#batman fanfic#batman fanfiction#tim drake#dc fanfiction#dc fanfic#dcu
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Day 183!!! Two more expressions to go, then on to coloring! Which, tbh, I might actually decide not to do? Idk, we'll see. Maybe I'll even do it later or something. I'm honestly kind of sick of looking at this and want to be done with it, move on to something else XD Buuuut, I also told my roommate I'd be working on doing this challenge for one of the characters for the comic we're trying to do, so I feel obligated to at least do that. At some point. Maybe not next, but at some point.
Anyway, Rage turned out even better inked than sketched, I'm super happy with it. And I managed to adjust Excited to look a whole lot better. Still not quite how I picture it in my head, but my current skill level will only take me so far. I also tweaked Teasing a bit, can you tell the difference? I might make the same or similar adjustments with Disgusted. Again, idk, we'll see.
#the great artscapade of 2022#bobbi's being weird again#art#my art#kingdom hearts fanart#kingdom hearts oc#oc: mizu#expression sheet#I'm considering opening a Patreon because a) I need money and b) it would give me incentive to finish things#but I really really REALLY don't want to make my art into a job of any flavor#I do this for fun and to relax#and yeah sure the challenge I set for myself on New Year's to draw every day plus posting to hold myself accountable#that's also a factor#but add money to the mix and no thank you#oh dang it I see something I want to fix in Excited#oh well if I still notice it tomorrow I'll get it then
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Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao
——
Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).
The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.
Danny took out his phone.
“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”
Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”
“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”
“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.
“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”
“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”
“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”
“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”
“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.
“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”
“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”
Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.
Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.
Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.
“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.
If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.
——
Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.
“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.
Batman grunted a yes.
“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”
Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.
"Is this..."
"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."
Batman stared at the picture.
"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"
"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."
Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.
"I heard you had something about Luthor?"
Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."
Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.
"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.
"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.
"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"
Batman grunted.
"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."
Batman swiveled his head over. "What."
Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."
Batman stilled.
"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."
Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."
"And why not?"
Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"
"... Point."
#dcxdp#danny phantom#batman#tim drake#lex luthor#lex luthor is hated in gotham#bamf danny phantom#sea cryptid danny phantom
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Do you know this tiktok trend where girls tell guys about paying at the mechanic's for premium air for their cars 😭 could you write a fic where y/n does that prank to Max?
"Premium Air?" - Max Verstappen
pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )
genre . . . fluff )
wc . . . 825 words )
read my other work . . . here )
request something . . . here )
“Oh Maxy, I was supposed to mention, I took your car to be serviced. I know you’ve been so busy lately I thought I’d do that and give you one less thing to worry about” You said to your boyfriend, trying your hardest to suppress any giggles that wanted to escape. Your phone sat propped up on the bookshelf, strategically hidden so Max didn't notice.
You had been seeing so many videos on TikTok where girls would prank their boyfriends or husbands by convincing them that they had bought “premium air” for the tires of their cars; and you decided that since so much of Max’s life revolved around cars, it would be the perfect way to prank him.
“Oh, thank you very much baby, that’s kind of you, everything okay with it?” he said, never lifting his head up from his phone.
“You’re welcome, yeah everything was okay they just said something about low tire pressure or something? I don’t really remember but I sorted it.” You said, fighting the mischievous grin that is trying to take its place on your face. At your words Max finally lifts his head up and looked at you, his brows furrowed.
“Really are you sure? They seemed to be fine last time I drove it” his voice has a hint of concern lacing though it, clearly unsure where this is leading.
“I’m not sure, that’s what the man said anyway. But I got it sorted. I even sprung for the premium air for you!” Your excitement was clear and the second the words left your lips, Max put his phone down, his full attention now on you. Confusion was etched on his face, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tightly in a fine line.
“Premium air?” he questioned
You nod enthusiastically, maintaining your poker face. "Yeah! It's the latest thing. It makes your car run smoother, improves fuel efficiency, and who knows, maybe it even adds a few extra horsepower."
Max looks at you like you’ve got two heads and you come so close to ruining the whole prank and bursting out laughing.
“Premium air?” he asked again, like he couldn’t find any other words to respond to your ridiculousness. “How much did this premium air cost you?” he asked with a bemused smile, that smile however, dropped as soon as you answered his question.
“Oh, it was a steal! Like €150 a tire.”
His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "€150 per tire? Are you serious Y/N? There's no such thing as premium air!"
You feign innocence, "Oh, come on, Maxy, it's a special service they offered. You can't put a price on a smooth ride” Max sighs, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face.
"Baby, I think you’ve been scammed. There's no such thing as premium air. Next time, let me know before you spend money on something like this."
You play dumb, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "Scammed? But how could I buy it if it doesn't exist?"
Max laughs, shaking his head. "You're too precious. Next time, let me come with you to the garage, okay? I'll make sure you don't fall for any tricks."
You're left feeling a bit confused. Most of the prank videos you’ve seen end with frustration or annoyance, but Max seems more amused than anything else.
As you sit there, still feeling a bit bewildered by Max's surprisingly lighthearted reaction, you gather the courage to ask him the burning question. "Hey, Max," you begin cautiously, "why aren't you mad at me?"
He looks at you with genuine confusion. "Mad? What do you mean?"
You take a deep breath and decide it's time to come clean. "The whole premium air thing—it was a prank," you admit, pointing discreetly at the camera you had strategically placed in the room to capture his reaction.
Max's eyes widen in realization, and he breaks into a hearty laugh. "You got me!" he exclaims, playfully pushing you.
You can't help but smile at his reaction, relieved that he found it amusing. "Seriously, though, why aren't you mad? Everyone else in those prank videos gets upset."
Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I didn't want to make you feel bad," he confesses. "You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I didn't want to ruin that by getting angry over a harmless mistake” You look up at him, touched by his understanding and kindness. "But I wasted money on something that doesn't exist. You could have been really mad." He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Money comes and goes, but you trying to make me happy means the world to me.”
"I love you," you say, a mixture of gratitude and affection in your voice.
Max smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, baby. Just remember, next time you decide to prank me, I'll be one step ahead."
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#formula one x reader#f1 imagine
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DIRTY SEXY MONEY || 1,1k || pt 2 of Like It’s The Last Time
Summary: Joel has fun with you after the heist.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, f!oral, size kink, squirting, cum eating, mention of violence and guns
Thank you @milla-frenchy for beta reading!<3
Part 3 || Series masterlist
*****
“What the hell..?”
You gawk at the sight in front of you, fingers clutching the towel wrapped around your body, still slightly wet from the shower.
“Hop on, baby. Gonna fuck you on it,” Joel growls standing at the side of the bed with a pile of 100 dollar bills scattered all over the ugly motel bedding. You two always fuck like rabbits after the heist but this is new.
His dark gaze is set on you as his bare foot pushes an open bag full of stacks of cash out of the way and he stalks towards you. He’s naked except for a towel hanging low on his hips, just out of the shower too. His slicked back hair is dripping wet, pupils are blown, as the adrenaline of the job is still coursing through his veins. A noticeable lump under the towel tells you he’s not going to tell you twice.
Your nervous giggle breaks the silence as you shuffle back from him, raising your hands in the air.
“N-no, Joel. It’s dirty…and we’re wet. No!”
He steps up close, caging you against the opposite wall, a smirk on his handsome face.
“ ‘course it’s dirty, baby. We earned it with our guns.”
His arms snake around your body and he squeezes you in his python-like grip.
“No, literally dirty,” you mumble as his embrace quickly overwhelms you, making you feel small and helpless. Your pussy is gushing for him as a drop of fear adds to the arousal pooling deep in your lower belly. He’d never hurt you but the terror that you saw in people’s eyes today at the bank is still fresh in your mind.
“Wanna eat you out on this dirty cash.”
His whisper sends chills down your spine as he slowly pulls you to the bed.
You follow him like you always do and in a second you both fall on the pile of money. He pins you with his massive side as your back dips into the heap of bills. Their crinkling sound mixes with your whimper when Joel unwraps your towel exposing your naked body to the cold air of the motel room. Your skin erupts in goosebumps and he groans at the sight of you.
He puts his big warm palm over the base of your throat and then glides it down between your breasts over your heaving belly and to your pussy that is already throbbing for him. He cups it and slightly squeezes your flesh like it belongs to him. It does belong to him.
“Tommy'll kill us,” you moan, lifting your hips into his touch. Joel nuzzles your cheek, breathing in your scent and then nibbles on your earlobe.
“He’s gettin’ shitfaced in some bar, baby. By the time he’s back and sober it’ll all be in the bag.”
“Do you trust me to keep this a secret, Miller?”
“Trust ya with my life, baby,” he rasps and kisses you.
It’s full of fire and passion as his tongue tangles with yours inside your welcoming mouth. The bills splash around when Joel takes his towel off, not leaving your lips even for a second, and shifts his body to get between your thighs, elbows planted by your shoulders. His hand slides under the back of your head, keeping you in place for him to devour.
The outside world stops existing when he holds you under his massive body like this. No more people, problems, fears, concerns. You’re not running anymore. Even if this feeling is fleeting, you cherish it like the most valuable gift.
You open your thighs wider to welcome his hard cock that twitches against your mound, the tip smearing precum over your belly.
“Fuck me, Joel,” you beg but he has other plans.
He parts from you and moves down, peppering open-mouth kisses on your neck and breasts. He sucks on your nipples, one and then the other and you squirm under him, moaning, fingers running through his wet hair.
He grunts from the sensation but then gets off the bed and kneels on the floor.
“Told ya ‘m gonna eat ya.” He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the foot of the bed making you gasp. You slide down on the money with ease, some of the dollar bills falling on the floor next to Joel.
“Spread ‘em wide.”
He presses on the insides of your thighs with his massive hands and a memory of those hands throwing a security guard into a wall just a few hours ago sends more slick to your dripping entrance. You lift yourself on your elbows and whimper at the image of him on his knees between your thighs.
“Fuck… so wet, baby… look at this,” he presses his tongue to your hole and pulls his head away, as you watch a string of arousal hang between his mouth and your pussy.
A few seconds later you’re nothing but a moaning trembling mess as he’s devouring your cunt like it’s his last meal before an execution.
His tongue is everywhere, gliding between your folds, swirling infinities over your clit, fucking into your clenching hole. A scream announces your climax and he drinks from you, humming with pleasure.
With a carnal gaze and a mischievous smirk, not waiting for your aftershocks to stop, he pushes two thick fingers into your soaked pussy. The first stroke tells you exactly what the devil wants from you.
“Oh fuck no, Joel!” You try to squirm up the bed but he grabs your hip pinning you to the bed with his strong hand, expression focused on the goal.
You slump into the cash with another nervous giggle and stare at the ceiling.
“C’mon, baby, let’s christen this batch,” Joel chuckles, pushing his thick digits in and out of your entrance, expertly coaxing another explosion out of you.
“Tommy’ll kill us,” you say again before he presses something deep inside you once, twice and your juices spurt out of your stretched hole, soaking Joel’s chest.
He pulls his fingers out but doesn’t stop playing with your pussy as he vigorously rubs it with his whole palm, making you come harder and squirt more. The drops of your liquid drizzle over the scrunched dollar bills and your heated bodies.
Through the haze in your eyes and mind you see Joel standing up, jerking his cock for a few moments and then painting your puffy folds with his pearly cum.
He plops on the bed next to you and pulls your exhausted body into his arms. It’s messy and filthy, you are both covered in cum as well as the money around you.
“I hate you, Joel,” you murmur into his neck as he holds you tight.
“Hate you too, baby,” he rasps and you two rest, spent and satisfied, listening to each other’s heartbeats.
Suddenly a knock on the door breaks the peaceful silence. One shared glance and you two rush to grab your guns.
*****
Thank you for reading! 🌸
Part 3 || Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST
If you’d like to be tagged in the series let me know.
Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal characters#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#the last of us#joel miller tlou#kiss kiss bang bang series#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fan fiction#joel fanfiction#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel miller the last of us
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Levi doesn’t get how you find The Sims entertaining.
“It’s a virtual dollhouse.” He tells you. “That’s what so great about it!” You retort. “Whatever floats your boat…” He mutters to himself. He says this but he makes sure you have all the sims 4 packs (there are A LOT of them). And when one is coming out, He’ll listen to you passionately explain the premise of the pack. “When it comes out, just let me know.” He’ll give you his credit card info so you can charge it as he doesn’t want you to spend any of your money.
“I made us in the Sims!” You excitedly sit in Levi’s lap with your laptop in hand.
“Hm?” Levi places his chin on the crook of your neck as his hands gently graze the sides of your thighs.
“The Sims!” You exclaim again. “Look, there’s you and there’s me…” Your finger points out each of your sims on the screen. “Oh, and we have a child together!” Levi’s eyes follow your finger as you point at the child sim. “Her name is Kuchel.”
You feel Levi tense up behind you for a moment. “Wait…what’s her name?”
“Kuchel.” You repeat, quieter this time. “Sorry, I can change her name if you don’t feel comfortable with it.” You add quickly.
Levi’s expression softens; he stays silent for a moment before speaking again. “...Can you make her?” He asks you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Your mom?” You turn slightly so you can see his face.
He nods to confirm.
“Of course, I'll do my best.” You tell him with a soft smile.
You ask Levi to describe her to you, his eyes filled with fondness as he recalls her features and her personality. You spend hours on the Kuchel sim, wanting her to look and be as accurate as possible.
After a few days, you show Levi the finished product in the game as you have the Kuchel sim interact with the Levi sim. You look at Levi for a brief moment while the Sims are speaking to each other. The expression on his face is hard to read. It’s a mix of pleasant surprise, awe, and sadness.
“Is it okay, is there anything I should change?” You ask him, worried you didn’t capture her likeness as you watch him study her.
He silently shakes his head. “No…she’s perfect.”
You tell Levi he’s more than welcome to play whenever he wants. You’re surprised when he does take you up on that offer. He picks up on the mechanics quickly and soon he has the whole family (Your sim, Levi’s sim, your daughter, and Kuchel) traveling all over the world, going on adventures, and trying new things together. At one point you suggest the Levi sim and the Kuchel sim spend some time alone together and Levi does just that, taking them to coffee and tea shops, having them take walks in the park, and going to the library. As you and Levi continue to play together, you learn more about Kuchel as some of the actions in the game trigger different memories of his mother.
Levi doesn’t say it but he’s thankful for this silly little game you introduced him to because he can now have a cup of tea with his mother, even if it’s only pretend.
#I was thinking about playing the sims since I haven't played in the world with the Levi sim and I just thought about how Levi would react#I didn't mean for it to turn into this now I'm crying in the club#My actual heart#levi#levi ackerman#levi aot#levi x reader#levi x you#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi x y/n#levi drabble#levi fluff#levi hurt/comfort#manda writes
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May I Request a part 2 to Dealbreaker!Reader (same characters) but it’s the characters reactions to the reader surprisingly breaking their deal? I loved what you wrote!
Angel, Husk and Alastor with a dealbreaker S/O pt. 2
[ Part 1 ] < > [ More lore on DBs ]
A/N Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it, I loved writing this and the last one. Dealbreaker lore brainrot fr.
With how dealbreaking usually goes, it's not instantly a happy ending, unfortunately. These are all pretty happy endings, though.
Fairly long reads for all of these, but it's worth it, I promise 🙏
!(MY REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN. THIS IS JUST LEFT OVER FROM WHEN THEY LAST WERE.)!
Cw: SFW, depictions of violence, mentions of murder, Husk and Angel's is romantic, Alastor's is platonic, gn reader, male reader in mind for Angel's (forgot to add this aaaages back omg)
**Alastor's is written under the assumption that the Lilith owning his soul theory is real + is making a great big assumptions about Lilith + the nature of her deal that will likely be disproven.
She's a great big mystery, I'm just heavily leaning into pure theory in that one.
Angel
- When you break his contract, Angel is overwhelmed with a potent mixture of relief and gratitude.
- The path this far had been fairly easy as far as the process of actually breaking the contract goes.
- The chains on him were poorly crafted and the format was extremely simple with a lot of loopholes to bust the contract wide open.
- It was honestly much harder to fully knock Angel out of the all-encompassing fear-rooted belief that he was doing something incredibly wrong after years of Val's manipulation and control over every part of him.
- It didn't take long to make the counter-contract, just a few minutes referencing the draft as you quickly wrote everything down upon the page pressed against the filthy bench you were sitting at. Angel hovered over you anxiously wringing his hands as he watched you work.
- The lock on his prison cell was quickly broken, along with the actual collar around his neck.
- You cheered as you threw your arms around the disbelieving man next to you. Angel cracked a smile, giddy as he realised that you had done it.
- This peace was short-lived, however.
- You now had to deal with the consequences of actually breaking Angel's deal. Valentino does not take kindly to people taking his toys away from him, especially not one of his top money-makers and favourite souls.
- You had, of course, crafted the counter-contract that was now clutched in your palm in some random location far away from the hotel so Val wouldn't be knocking at the front door knowing it was done then and there.
- However, you two still needed to run.
- Hand in hand, you run away from the approaching sound of distant but loudly approaching cars with the sound of gunshots echoing, legs and lungs burning with exertion.
- As a contrast to your very evident worry, Angel is laughing joyously and more boisterously then he thinks he ever has as the feeling of the heavy sensation of the collar that has been weighing on him is lifts alongside the inability to speak his real name without choking on it.
- The feeling of his newfound freedom and adrenaline mixes in his body, making his blood sing out in his veins like a symphony. An indescribably rich sensation of being alive that he thought he'd never be able to feel again while sober.
- "So long, you overly tall rat bastard! I've found something that's better then anything you could ever fucking give me!" Angel yells out into the warm air of the night as he flips off the general direction of the sound of the gunshots, laughing all the way as you get to the getaway car.
- You're panting as you crank the car into gear, speeding away and putting the glowing counter-contract on the back seat.
- As the distant sounds of gunshots fades into the distance behind you, you turn to the passenger side of the car to make absolutely sure Angel is really okay as he calms down from the high of the chase.
- Your boyfriend is absolutely beaming next to you, glowing with a sense of natural light you'd never before seen in your time being together. It's a beautiful contrast to the artificial sense of life you are so used to seeing broadcast within the studio and his films.
- He looks so different, and not only due to the disguise he had decided upon to lay low until shit calmed down a bit.
- As you make it to your destination - a small house youd been allowed to stay at courtesy of Charlie - you put the car into park and sit there for a for a few seconds.
- "Holy shit. I did it. I actually freed you. And we're not dead." You said, stunned.
- Angel snickered, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning over to you to kiss you on the cheek. "Never doubted you for a second, baby."
- You laugh, relieved, turning to him and gently pull his face close to yours, kissing him deeply. You chuckle at the feeling of the giant smile on Angel's face.
- As you move to settle in to live in the small house for a couple of weeks, you regret turning on the television.
- Angel's face flashes across the screen with text quickly scrolling past a smiling but seemingly close to tweaking Vox on the screen, the man looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit if one more mild inconvenience happens. The Video Star's eye twitches sightly as if hearing something irritating as he speaks.
- "There is a hefty reward for anyone who can find Angel Dust and the dealbreaker who has interfered with his contract. Any useful information will be welcome. To give us tips, go to the website listed below or call-" You switch the TV off, unplugging it as well just in case.
- If Vox got well and truly involved in this situation to attempt to placate Valentino as soon as possible, this would be even more difficult of a situation. You hadn't much considered the rest of the vees getting involved, assuming they would stsy in their own lanes while Valentino stopped being pissy.
- You shake your head, and move to go to the room where Angel is unpacking. The outside world could wait until later. All that shit could wait until later.
- Angel smiles at you as you walk into the room, such a lightness in it that makes your heart burn.
- You hug him tightly and then fall down on your side into the bed, both of you laughing joyously and filling the empty house with life.
- The road ahead would not be easy, but you were finally on the road to starting your life with him.
- Your life with him as Anothony, not Angel Dust.
Husk
- The road to forming a counter-contract was hard as all hell.
- Alastor's deals are absolutely air tight, crafted with the uptmost skill and attention to detail, so you finding a vague clause to dig your claws into to get it rolling after weeks of arduously reviewing it again and again was a goddamn miracle.
- When he saw that you had made progress, he's shocked as can be. Has a 'well I'll be' moment as you point it out to him after another sleepless night as he wanders up to you.
- Feels bad for fully doubting you after that. He's still pessimistic about your chances of actually succeeding in the counter-contract, but the flame of hope inside of him sparks to embers as you manage to do what nobody has managed to even remotely succeed to do in centuries.
- When you make further progress, he becomes deeply afraid for your safety. If Alastor ever found out you'd been able to get this far, you'd be toast.
- Never in a million years would Alastor allow someone who's managed to undermine his skills to this degree to live. When you say that you've got it covered when he brings it up, he's incredibly skeptical and is even more concerned when you say you can't tell him 'just in case'.
- Is in utter disbelief when you insist you just stay in the hotel as you actually write the counter-contract to break the deal while Alastor is out doing some shenanigans.
- When you say that you don't, in fact, have a death wish, he's extremely stressed and sweating bullets as you begin to write what you'd been drafting for weeks.
- The lights flash and then go out as you're about halfway through writing the contract. Unnatural green light fills the room and Alastor casts a great big shadow on the wall as he materialises out of nowhere.
- Husk feels dread sink into every part of himself.
- The ground shakes as Alastor physically shows up, much larger then usual and snarling. "What do you think you're doing."
- His voice is dripping with malice and static which hurts your ears greatly, but the movement of your pen on the page doesn't stop even though you can feel your heart thudding in terror and your vision is becoming blurry.
- Husk feels nauseous as Alastor looks down at you, growing all the more aggressive the more he feels his hold on Husk slipping.
- Husk fights a panicked yell as Alastor's neck snaps to the side loudly, now looking directly at him with an absolutely vile grin on his face. He cannot make it in time as Alastor's hand moves to crush you, and he fears the absolute worst as you are no longer in his sights.
- His deep despair is interrupted however, as from underneath Alastor's palm great big rose briers grow from underneath and pry it backwards, revealing you still writing - albeit looking extremely stressed - and the figure of Rosie who looks rather angry at Al.
- Alastor's eyes widen in shock and disbelief that one of his oldest friends are currently blocking him from destroying the one trying to take his property.
- Husk hardly hears the back and forth and stalling that goes on between the two overlords as he's running to you to try and pull you the hell out of here.
- He stops in place as he feels it, and hears Alastor let out a terrifying frustrated growling noise. The green collar and chain around his throat appears, and then it breaks with a loud snapping sound. You've succeeded.
- You actually fucking did it.
- The next few moment are a blur as Husk is rendered motionless and speechless, eyes wide and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as if he's about to wake up from this moment.
- He slowly walks towards you, looking to the side blankly as Alastor shrinks back to his normal size and is escorted out of the hotel with a look of pure bewilderment on his face by a now smiling and laughing Rosie. The leader of the cannibals winks at you and gives you a thumbs up as she leaves.
- You turn to Husk and grin at him wearily, still sweating nervously with clear relief on your face. You literally could have just died.
- Husk sinks to his knees beside you from where you sit on the ground, having fallen from your chair as Alastor tried to crush you.
- Husk grips your face in his shaking hands as he looks up at you. He can now see that one of your eyes is black with a deal you've made yourself but for now he doesn't address it.
- "Thank you." His voice is hoarse, low. Tears stream down his face for the first time in a long long time.
- Your face crumples as you allow your brave face to fall to bits. Your heart is still racing and you are still getting over the fear you felt.
- Husk pulls your crying face to his, leaning his forehead against yours as he wraps his arms tightly around you. "Thank you so much." Husk says, closing his eyes and causing more tears to roll down his cheeks.
- "If you ever do something that fucking stupid again, I'll not be humouring you." He added after the wonderful moment stretched out for a couple of seconds.
- You laugh softly, and nuzzle into his cheek as you kiss it. "You're welcome, Husker my love."
- Husk hums in fake annoyance, but he cannot even hide how much lighter he feels.
- The bonds which had kept him trapped for decades had been broken down all at once, leaving him free.
- He had no idea what kind of deal you made with Rosie, but he sure hoped it kept Alastor the fuck away from you and him for the rest of your lives.
- And, for your sake, he desperately hopes it is not the type of deal you will regret making later.
Alastor
- The path to dealbreaking Alastor's is bar fucking none with difficulty, mostly because he doesn't want your help.
- Hurts his his ego so much to see that even though his consistent efforts to tell you to get lost have failed. He's opted to scaring you off multiple times and yet you're still relentless.
- After yet another time of him growing into that massive form and snarling down at you, you snap.
- "Maybe I'm 'overestimating my abilities', but what if I'm not? What if a fresh pair of eyes are what you need rather than you just pissing off to your radio tower and staring at everything until you have a mental breakdown over it!" You yell at him weakly as he turns his back to leave. Blood is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and you're only just regaining your vision from the former static, which blacked it out.
- Alastor stops in his tracks, startled that you know about that too.
- "Maybe I don't have as much experience as you, but I have a different mind and way of looking at things! What if that's exactly why you can't break it? What if whoever it is knows how you think so they've designed this thing so you can't do this alone?"
- You can't see Alastor's face, but he's standing there still not saying anything. One of his ears is pointed backwards in your direction. He's actually listening.
- You gulp, and stand up shakily. "What if they knew that you would never seek assistance, so they've done things which won't be visible to you and only you. If you just give me a chance." You're no longer shouting, rather speaking in a tone you're trying to keep even despite how afraid you are.
- Alastor grits his teeth, ears twitching as he considers it. He's pissed off because you're actually making a good point.
- It goes against every instinct in his body, but suddenly, he's right in front of you, holding out his hand to you as he glares menacingly at you. "A week, and if you find nothing, you will never fucking approach this with me again, or share what you have seen and heard about my deal with anybody."
- You gulp audibly. It's a ridiculously slim deadline for this kind of business, but it's more than nothing. As you accept the deal, he utters a single word you're shocked to hear.
- "Lilith."
- Without any further words, he disappears, leaving a glowing copy of the contract at your feet.
- The week of reviewing the contract was utter fucking hell.
- it's not just that the contract was super air tight, it's just that it was so ridiculously complicated and hard to understand that you could hardly fucking comprehend what you were reading most of the time. It was utterly maddening.
- Your breakthrough, however, came not through solely just reading the words, but from actually talking to Lucifer himself about Lilith when he came to visit the hotel while Alastor left.
- As per the deal, you didn't share anything about the contract, but you did ask about her in private with him and he was actually surprisingly happy to discuss her.
- So that's, how on the last day of the deadline, you cracked the contract wide open with a counter-contract draft you had written in a few hours.
- Alastor almost screams out in pure unadulterated fury when he sees what you've written and hears the explanation behind it.
- Lilith wasn't some skilled dealmaker hellbent on controlling demons. She was a broken down dreamer who had no idea what she was actually doing in the contract, but being Lilith, her words held so much weight that they'd chained him despite that.
- It actually takes every bone in your body to not burst out laughing with how utterly humiliated he looks.
- His ears are pressed forward on his head, and he's making an odd high-pitched audio feedback kind of sound as his face is hidden in his hands.
- He'd been stressing over this thing for years as a skilled dealmaker looking at it, and yet that was exactly why he couldn't do it.
- Couldn't do what you did in a fucking week.
- "So, do you want me to undo this thing now or-?"
- You startle as suddenly he's in front of you, both hands on either one of your shoulders.
- you try so hard to not snicker as you see his expression finally, but fail. He's pressing his still ever-smiling mouth into a crooked line, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed. Dark flush covers his cheeks and neck.
- "Yes. Please." He says those words as if they are poison in his mouth. "I'm.. Sorry. That I underestimated you." Alastor opens his eyes to look at you as he begins to regain his composure a bit more, the hard part of this interaction being over with.
- Fortunately, and also infuriatingly, Alastor had not had his soul contract used once. Lilith simply had him in her back pocket and didn't lift a finger whenever she felt him try to break it again and again. It's like she didn't even give a fuck that she literally owned him.
- This fact burnt hot embarrassment and frustration into him as it destroyed his ego, but now it was a relief as she would most likely not try and come after him. Or you for that matter.
- His claws grip painfully into your shoulders as you fail to stop snickering loudly in disbelief that he actually apologised. Admitted losing essentially.
- "S-sorry! I just can't believe I'm seeing you like this." You apologised.
- Alastor gritted his teeth. "Don't get used to it." He growls before his mask slips right back on like it never happened. "I'm simply admitting my mistake in assuming you could not do this, darling! It turns out you truly can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or deer, in this case." He clears his throat, straightening up.
- You smile up at him, heavy bags under your eyes from where you've barely slept for the past week pouring over this.
- "If it makes you feel any better, it makes sense why you couldn't solve this thing. It's utter bullshit nonsense." You shake your head at the contract.
- The deal was undone embarrassingly quickly after that using the draft you had written. No pushback at all on it.
- Alastor feels his collar slacken and break to bits as you write the counter-contract and sighs with extreme relief as he watches the other contract disintegrate, feeling the power which had been stolen coming back as it turns to dust. It doesn't cure the utter humiliation that still sits heavy upon his shoulders however.
- After everything, he would threaten to kill you if you tell anyone about what went on or how he had fallen apart. Though, it would be a lie to say you two don't grow significantly closer.
- Alastor is still hesitant to fully let his guard down around you, however the massive wake that existed between you two even as fairly good friends has now significantly closed.
- He's still a lying, scheming asshole, but he'll be much more inclined to not be so much with you considering you've kept multiple giant blows to his ego fully secret.
This was a lot longer than what I usually write for requests holy moly, but I absolutely loved writing these. I hope I fulfilled your vision anon 🙏
You get through Angel's and Husk's, which are really emotional and sweet, then you get to Alastor's 💀
Masterlist
#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust headcanons#hazbin hotel angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel husk headcanons#fun fact: i thought i accidentally deleted this from my drafts and nearly flipped my shit about it#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#angel dust fanfiction#hazbin hotel alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#husk headcanons#husk x reader#husk fanfiction#alastor x reader#alastor fanfiction#hazbin rosie#hazbin lucifer
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"You clean up nicely, Stevie"
cw: mentioned blood and gore | mafia/mob AU | steddie pre-murderhusbands relationship
big thanks to @dapandapod for beta reading and improving my poor attempt to write sth
Steve Harrington is good at his job. He's quick, he is thorough and most importantly, he doesn't ask questions.
There's nothing that could shock him anymore. He's seen everything.
Steve doesn’t mind severed limbs, gore, blood and body fluids, sometimes creatively mixed in more ways than are pleasant to imagine.
He's used to it, and cleaning it is what earns him a nice living as a crime scene cleaner.
Or just... scene cleaner maybe.
He doesn't work with the police or authorities. No, his specialty lies outside the law, which means he arrives before a mess becomes a nuisance. He cleans until there is not a speck of blood left, until there is nothing to indicate that something happened there. Was there ever a crime committed if there is no crime scene?
The money's amazing by the way. Of course cleaning the remains is a shit job but if you add the hush money on top, well, ain't that a nice bonus.
Again, Steve doesn't ask questions. He doesn't care. It's none of his business.
–
Eddie's shoes are squeaking in the puddle of blood he tried and failed to not step into.
He flips the business card around and squints at the hurried scribble of a phone number that was added right under the name "Stevie".
He trusts Chrissy's background check.
They were in a dire need of a new guy after the previous one decided to catch a bullet with his face after snooping one time too many.
Eddie looks up to the blood stained walls and ceiling and dials the number on the card.
"Hello?"
"Watergate Street 53", is all Eddie replies.
"How many?", Stevie asks.
"Uhm, five?"
"You sure? Might wanna go check again?", Stevie laughs into the phone.
Bitch.
"It's five." Eddie answers, annoyed.
There's a low whistle. "Alright, I'll be there in 20. Payment upfront. 50k."
Then the line goes dead. Eddie rolls his eyes, pockets his phone and looks around for a clean spot to sit while he waits.
–
It's exactly three hours and thirty two minutes later when Stevie empties his water bucket for the last time.
Eddie watches curiously as Stevie takes off the gloves, mask and safety glasses he arrived in. Eddie didn't mean to stick around but he's not trusting this new guy yet (he's also curious, sue him).
His gaze turns into a stare when the other man pulls down the zipper of his squeaky yellow biohazard suit, throwing back the hood and running a clean hand through his sweat soaked hair. He has a strong jaw and long, mole dotted neck that Eddie just wants to taste.
Eyes wide, Eddie’s not able to hold back the sharp intake of breath as he watches in horror the moment Stevie's eyes lock with his and -
Fuck.
Stevie's lips curl into a smirk.
Eddie is so fucked.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#stranger things#inspired by the game “Crime Scene Cleaner” that i saw on twitch yesterday#i got this weird idea and wasn't able to let it go#this is kei's first attempt at writing 🙈 holy shit#it's a one time thing. writing is too stressful for me xD
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idk if u accept asks like this but what do u think would be svt thoughts/reactions to u scratching up their back during sex???
just a random random thought LOL (thank u sm!! please feel free ignoring this if its not vibing)
svt + scratches on their back
tags: smut ..,, sort of (18+),
a/n: ngl i miss doing ot13 reactions to stuff like this so!! so glad that u requested :3
seungcheol: not a surprise but seungcheol absolutely loves it. he's obsessed with it, even. like takes pictures of it in the mirror after you fuck when the marks are still raw and red and fresh. it's part of the reason why missionary is probably his favorite position ... and i feel like cheol would shower you with money just so you can get your nails done perfectly sharp enough to rake into his back every time you guys fuck.
jeonghan: the only who i think is truly indifferent. it doesn’t bother him nor does he feel like it adds anything but he figures if you like it he’ll let you do as you please
joshua: i feel like he's also indifferent, but sometimes he'll use it as an excuse to be a little mean ... "aw baby can't keep her hands to herself ..,, might have to tie you up"
jun: loves it because of the pain. hear me out but he thinks your nails digging into his back adds onto his own pleasure from the sensation alone, but he's also a little shy about that fact and so just makes it a point to fuck you as hard as he can so you scratch his back involuntarily.
soonyoung: a mix of jun and joshua. he doesn't care too much for it, but occasionally the sting is pretty pleasurable ...,, other times he might use it as an excuse to pin your hands above your head
wonwoo: i actually think he's one of the few members who does not like getting scratches on his back because when he is being dominant, he likes have full control !! and that includes dictating where your hands get to be and what they get to do. although, wonwoo thinks it's cute when you get so lost in pleasure that you forget about his rules and can't help but scratch his back ...,, makes it a point to punish u for that and he always enjoys that
jihoon: secretly judges his self reflection of well he fucked you based on how messed up his back is after every round. loves every single mark.
seokmin: isn't a huge fan of the feeling while getting them—the sting kinda hurts, however he loves how scratches look afterwards ...,, admires himself in the mirror a lot when you leave loads of marks
mingyu: likes them a decent amount. he no strong opinions on it, if you like it, then he likes it. sometimes the feeling of you giving them eggs him in a bit more and boosts his ego
minghao: i feel like he doesn't really care about the pain while it's happening, and might even like that you get so lost in pleasure that you end up digging your nails into his back, but he doesn't like how the scratches sting afterwards so he probably asks you to hold off on the claws when you fuck
seungkwan: enjoys it occasionally, but other times he might straight up ask you to stop and oil / massage his back afterwards, and help him treat the marks with ointment
vernon: he wasn't the biggest fan at first but he didn't tell you to stop because it seemed like you liked it ..,, it eventually grew on him and he would never admit it to anyone but he really started to enjoy the sting while fucking, along with the view of his back all red and raw with scratches afterwards
chan: likes showing it off more than the actual process of getting the scratches to be honest. i have this feeling that the first time you scratched his back while fucking, chan was kinda surprised and, leaning into his more dominant side, wanted to make sure you didn't do that again ..,, but soon he grew to appreciate how the scratches were a sign of how good he's fucking you .,,
#answered#✰ anon#mdni#svt smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#svt scenarios#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol smut#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan smut#joshua hong smut#joshua hong x reader#jeonghan imagines#jun x reader#jun smut#hoshi x reader#hoshi smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo smut#wonwoo scenarios#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#mingyu scenarios#woozi smut#woozi x reader#dokyeom smut#doyeom x reader#minghao x reader
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Hi, I love your WHB headcanons, they make me smile all the time! I don't know if I can request something, ignore this message if it's not allowed! But if you can…
Can you tell us how you think the Kings (especially Satan and Lucifer) would react to finding out their MC's birthday? Would they give you some gift or perhaps for them, immortals, birthdays are a useless celebration?
Thank you very much for all your wonderful work! And…sorry if my English is horrible
Oh my gosh celebrating your birth would be a special occasion let's see how these kings celebrate it
Whb Kings celebrating your birthday.
Sfw cut for length
Satan
The nobles celebrated together in the hall of the castle. They have a party what humans call a potluck. Where they bring their own food and snacks and their gifts.
Since demons live so long their birthdays are not as celebrated except for maybe the birth of their kings. But even then a birthday was not really a devil thing. But that didn't mean they They didn't like doing it They want to celebrate birthdays the way humans do and what better way to celebrate it with a human!
They want to do everything a human does at their birthday even the most silliest things like pinatas or pin the tail in the donkey everything anything you mentioned they will add it. But they also want to celebrate you in a devil way so you end up just getting this weird mix of demon human celebration.
The nobles and Satan are celebrating your birthday together but later Satan will give you an extra special gift ;)
Mammon
His version of parties are more relaxed with golden ballrooms fancy dresses and suits with expensive wine and catering. He will grant you anything on your birthday and for your party anything you wish. Of course unlike the other demons he will not be talked in out of making your party what you deserve. Your venue will be at a golden Mansion with hot tubs pools endless five star foods.
Anything you suggest he will pump it up to tenfold. At a park? No problem You shall have your party at a beautiful garden venue with exotic flowers plants and fruits. In a familiar place like his house? No problem He shall make it work. (Bimet with a money donation booth)
Your cake must have the least be five tiers. All five flavors and fillings as well as designed to your desire. You will be working with a five-star bakery and they will provide samples to make sure your cake is to what you desire.
"anything you want my dearest, this day is yours I will make sure your birth is celebrated as a national holiday"
Leviathan
He keeps your birthday a secret He wants to be the only one celebrating it! And he gets mad jealous if you ever tell anyone. Of course you throw a hissy fit. And Levi assures you that he'll give you enough gifts to make up for the fact only he knows.
Listen Levi may be an envious little bug but he has his limits... He knows he'd rather be celebrating the day of your conception and he realizes the special day since he never had a birthday himself nor he wanted to celebrate his birthday because of his past. He doesn't even remember what day it was.
Anything you want any wish you want to Grant for the entire day he is yours. And I guess the other Hades nobles will give you gifts as well since you made such a big stink about it.
If you ever mentioned to celebrate your birthdays together his eyes will go wide and his job will go slack. You're willing to share a special occasion with him? He just fell even deeper for you.
Beelzebub
Parties are a Abyssos specialty! your party will be a grand celebration. Wild and fun not like the parties in Tartaros we're rich people got like fancy little birds with their tiny fancy drinks and little crackers and cheeses, chirping about how rich they are. A real party!
And of course the grander the party the more strict the planning will be. Beelzebub takes these parties very seriously You can call him a party aficionado. Of course what you want also matters so he will ask Bael to keep notes because he'll probably forget. You can pick the venue pick the snacks it's starting to sound more like a wedding than just a birthday party.
It will have the most fun most lively most wild venue. Devils from across the seven kingdoms will hear about it and want to come bringing gifts to party in Abyssos. The nobles and King talking excitedly how this will be the greatest party in millenia. Will it last a day no a whole week of partying!
It will take A LOT of talking if you want your party to be anything other than the greatest celebration that Abyssos has to offer. In the end you'll just get sad pouty puppy Demons just wants to give you the best that Abyssos has to offer and parties are their specialty :(((. They will give in because it's what you want and whatever the birthday human decides.
Lucifer
Angels do not celebrate birthdays The only birthday they celebrate is either God or Jesus. So it completely slipped his mind until you mentioned it. His eyes went wide Oh yeah human celebrate their birth...
He's not one to ask for a party or anything, He brings you flowers and gives you cake and a little gift. The gift is the most expensive thing he always gets you jewelry or something you like.
Asking you out for birthday dinner is something he would probably do too. The other citizens of Paradise lost is allowed to celebrate as they please. Gamigin is not okay with this He is planning a party for you right now. Lucifer thinks it's unnecessary but he will attend anyway.
He tells his subordinate to please keep in mind that your day should be up to you. And if the young dragon is planning on anything you do not want he will be punished.
#whb lucifer#whb leviathan#whb satan#whb beelzebub#whb mammon#whb x reader#wihib#wihib x reader#whb#what in hell is bad#whb headcanons#whb sfw
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Hii, firstly I LOVE ur writing so much, you’re really talented 🌟💘
Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!
I was wondering if you could do 27+r for Bruce 🥰 something like he left to protect her, it hurt him more than anything and he realized that it was mistake and wants her back. Happy ending tho, I’m a sucker for that haha 😄❤️
Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻
“You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me” + Protecting you x Bale!Bruce
Words: 15.8k words
Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, lots of angst, pregnancy, break-up, suggestive themes and one (1) very poorly written and short nsfw scene (it's like 5 lines long I think), one (1) death, Bruce Wayne being a mess (relatable), a lot of heartbreak and pining, not proofread. I literally wrote this in a span of like, one week, and it's not proofread, so oh my god I'm so sorry if there's anything wrong with it...
A/N: Oh my god. Hello everyone. Holy fuck. Okay so, I hope you guys are interested to know what the fuck happened here. I don't want to waste any more time (the explanation is quite big), so I'll add it after the fic, in the final Author Note. Small context: I got two requests that were kinda similar, so I decided to mix the two together!
Just a heads up, due to reasons that I'll expand on at the end, I feel like the end drags on a bit. I did not proofread because I was a bit saturated with this piece, and I think that at some point, I actually cried because I was panicking real hard.
Anyway!!! I love Bruce!!!! I hope you guys enjoy this <3
Bruce knew you were the one after you'd first spilled coffee all over his suit.
You just looked so worried, your pretty eyes wide with fear as you tried to think of what to say to this stranger you'd just bumped into – or so he thought. You, in fact, knew exactly what you wanted to say to him.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, asshole!" you'd exclaimed, looking at what remained of your iced coffee. "This thing was almost 10 dollars, what am I supposed to do now?"
Bruce eyed you up and down, honestly surprised you had the guts to raise your voice at him. Didn't you know who he was? Did you simply not care?
Either way, he was enthralled.
"Hey!" you waved your arms in front of him, trying to get his attention. "Look at me!"
"May I be so bold to point out you spilled your coffee onto me?" Bruce asked with a small scoff. "If anything, you are the one supposed to do something about it."
"This wouldn't have happened if you watched where you were going." You were very pretty, Bruce noted. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, and your arms were crossed over your chest, making his eyes dart towards it.
"And what am I supposed to do?" He replied.
"I don't know! Give me my money back or something, that coffee is super expensive! It's my special celebration cup!"
""Your money back?"
"Yeah! You're dressed up all nice, I bet that suit costs more than my rent."
"Oh, really?" Bruce was amused one. You were feisty, clearly. "And what makes you think that?"
"No one walks around Gotham dressed like that, unless they're rich, powerful, law agents, or I don't know, Bruce Fucking Wayne."
"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"
You scoffed, shaking your head and gesticulating a lot with your arms.
"Probably! I mean, it's not like anyone has ever seen the guy, but let's be honest, he probably dresses in expensive as fuck silk, or like, placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies or something."
You only seemed to get better by the second.
Bruce placed a hand on his chin, truly intrigued by your line of thinking.
"Placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies?" He had to admit, this was pretty amusing. Did you have any sort of filter? If so, he never wished that you turned it off.
"Maybe – I don't know – It's Bruce Wayne, so who actually does know? Maybe he's running a society of baby-shitting placenta. It's Gotham. One day we have masked vigilantes jumping off roofs, and the other, bomb threats. Regular Tuesdays for us Gothamites. But the real question here is," you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. "What are you going to do to repay me my very well-earned 10$ worth of iced coffee?"
Bruce was just about to reply, when a very familiar voice spoke up behind him.
"Ah, Mr. Wayne!" Lucius's Fox deep timbre was unmistakable, and Bruce turned around to offer him a polite smile. "I'm happy to run into you, there's a few things – " He took one good look at his boss's shirt and grimaced. "Hell, Mr. Wayne, how'd that happen?"
The younger man turned around to glance at you. Poor, poor you, with eyes even wider, and a matching mouth. You blinked several times, looking from his shirt to his face, and from his face to his shirt.
"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot to introduce myself," he put a hand forward, offering you what you thought was the most dazzling smile ever. Geez, women must basically throw their panties at him.
"Bruce Wayne. Baby-shitting-placenta cult leader."
You blinked a few more times, wishing the earth swallowed you whole. You'd literally never done anything wrong in your life. Sure, you talked trash about Suzy Carpenter's sweater in 8th grade, but it was warranted – it did look like vomit – and you had stolen a yogurt from a coworker once, but surely that did not warrant running into Bruce Fucking Wayne of all people, spilling coffee all over his clothes, and accuse him of eating placenta. Maybe Suzy still held a grudge.
"Mr. Fox, how about I stop by your office later today? I'm quite busy this morning. Have something to do."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne. I'll be patiently waiting." Lucius gave him and you an acknowledging nod, before walking away.
You were still staring at Bruce, completely at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? Was there anything at all you could say?
"I – Mr. Wayne, I – Well, I'm – I," you stuttered and stuttered, and Bruce could only chuckle, before shaking his head. He looked to his left and took a few steps, opening a door before him.
"After you."
Confusion took over your expressions. What was he up to? Where was he going?
"I promise not to kidnap you into a placenta cult," he chuckled, nodding towards the door. You looked at the name written in green letters on the glass. "Coffee House". "I believe I have a cup of coffee to make up for?"
He offered you a very subtle version of that dazzling smile of his, and you couldn't help but return in kind.
"I'm not going to apologize or kiss your ass or anything," you told him.
"That's fine," Bruce shrugged, "I didn't want you to."
You pondered your options.
You didn't know this man. But someone had called him Mr. Wayne, and now that you take a good look at him, he does look like the face gossip magazines and tabloids love to splatter on the cover. And he really did not look like he meant any harm.
And you really wanted a cup of coffee. "Alright, Mr. Placenta Cult Leader."
It did not take long for Bruce to fall in love with you, with your kindness, with your looks, with your beautiful personality. You always maintained that feisty attitude of yours, refusing to treat him or anyone in his world differently simply because you were now a part of it.
And Bruce loved it.
Loved how you couldn't care less what other socialite families thought of you, eating chocolate covered fruit after chocolate covered fruit at fundraisers, loved the way you latched onto him and "claimed" your property so to say whenever other women approached him and tried their luck (not that it would've worked, this man was whipped for you), telling other, more arrogant seniors off whenever they made judgements on yours, or Gotham forbid, Bruce.
But above all, he loved you,
And he made sure to show you just how much whenever possible. He wasn't the best with words, never had been, so he tried to show his devotions through actions. Breakfasts in bed, gentle caresses while you cuddled together on the couch, copies of your favourite books, soft kisses pressed against the hollow of your throat while he brought you to a climax with his fingers. Bruce would never stop showing you his love, for as long as he lived.
Alfred was very fond of you too.
The two of you had gotten along very well immediately after your first meeting, with Alfred telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from Bruce's childhood. You laughed and replied in kind, and the two of you sort of teamed up to make his life a living hell (in the best way possible), teasing him to no end and cursing him with the worst jokes known to mankind.
Alfred too could see you were the one for his boss.
Saw it in the way Bruce looked at you, like everyone else in the world was gone and the only thing that mattered was the shine in your eyes. Saw it in the way he bent over to whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle out loud, just the way he saw Thomas Wayne do with his wife.
Saw it in the way Bruce paced holes into his study, pondering on what ring to get you. He bothered him to exhaustion that day, wondering about the colours you'd prefer, what size and shaped rock to get you, how, when, and where to propose.
"It has to be perfect, Alfred," he muttered, shaking his head and sighing incessantly. "I can't just pick any ring. It has to be meaningful. Her birthstone? No. No, absolutely not, that's lame. It's lame – it's dated. She wouldn't like it. Maybe she doesn't even like her birthstone. A diamond. A diamond! No. Out of the question. What if she doesn't like diamonds?"
"If I may give you a piece of advice, sir?" Alfred asked. However entertaining it was to see the mighty Bruce Wayne freak out over an engagement ring, this man was still his boy, and he couldn't bear to see him distressed. "If I recall, it was in your mother's will that her ring was to be stored and kept locked away in the possibility of her passing. I believe it is stored away in her old jewel box, as she was never buried with it. She wanted you to have it."
Bruce's eyes softened, as they often did at the mention of his parents.
"My mother's ring?" he asked to which Alfred nodded dutifully.
"It has been in your family for more than 6 generations now. Your mother wanted you to have it."
Some mixed feeling akin to grief and love passed through his eyes, and Bruce found himself staring at the floor. His mother's ring. A family heirloom, passed on from generation to generation. And now it was his. And would become yours. A million thoughts could've crossed through his mind. "Should I give something this important to her?" or "Is she the right person for this ring?" or maybe even "This is far too important. I need to think twice before making this decision".
But surprisingly, the only thought that came to him was "There is no one out there more deserving of this ring than her".
It was endearing, really, and Alfred Pennyworth was more than happy to see the boy he'd watched grow and loved as his own become his own man, and finally find the love he so much deserved.
When you got home on a warm May night and showed off your ring to him, smiling from ear to ear, eyes red and makeup slightly smudged from the tears you'd no doubt shed, he hugged you tightly and wished you all the best. He was sure the late Mr. and Mrs. Wayne would've loved you, and his eyes teared up at the thought.
Bruce caught sight of this and made his way towards the older man, worried that something might be wrong, the answer almost made him cry as well.
"It seemed like only yesterday I was patching your arm up after a rough fall, Master Wayne. And here you are today, carrying the legacy of your family, a man of your own, about to embark on this beautiful journey that's marriage. I am so very proud of the man you have become, and I'm sure your parents would too."
The two of them hugged warmly. Alfred was the only person besides you who got to see the more vulnerable side of Bruce – well, rather, you were the other person beside him. Having grown up with only his butler, Bruce saw him as a father figure. Sure, he'd never be able to replace his actual dad, but Bruce looked up and admired Alfred very much, considering him part of the family. No one seemed to care about him as much, and he was forever grateful.
That very night, you three toasted with champagne, sharing stories and anecdotes from Bruce's childhood, your relationship, and making plans for the future. And after Alfred had long retired for the night, Bruce took you in his arms, carried you off to his bedroom and made sure to remind you over and over again just how much he loved you.
After the engagement, Bruce told you about his double identity as Batman. You'd never suspected it – you were both responsible adults, each had your own job and errands to run. Not to mention that Bruce was the CEO of a whole company. To you, it was normal if he had to cancel one or two dates, or if you went a few days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, and sometimes it made your heart ache, but you were a busy woman yourself, and always found yourself surrounded by things to do; hobbies, errands, work – you always had a lot going on, so Bruce's absence felt normal.
He was afraid you'd leave him, but in true you fashion, it just made you even more in love. The man you adored more than anything and wanted to spend the rest of your life with was the one keeping Gotham safe at night. You begged him there and then to show you all his cool gadgets, teach you how everything worked, and your mouth watered at the possibility of having sex in what you called "the Batcar".
"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.
"No – that sounds terrible. Hmmm... Batengine?"
"It's called the Tumbler, and that's all. No Bat prefixes."
"No – no, it doesn't work like that. It needs a name. Oh. OH – Oh, holy fuck. Okay, get ready for this." You placed your hands in front of you, smiling. "You ready?"
"Just get on with it."
"I was just making sure you were ready. Okay listen. The Batmobile."
Bruce looked at you.
You looked at him.
Bruce looked at you.
You looked at him.
Bruce looked at you.
And then he made your wish come true, carrying you off towards the Batmobile.
Later, when you were curled up in his arms, you grinned, placing a cheeky kiss on his jaw.
"You're wearing the suit next time.”
Your engagement was happily lived.
You and Bruce tried to keep it a secret for as long as you could, wanting to enjoy some time together away from the prying eyes of Gotham, but as soon as one photographer caught you taking a spoon to your lips, and the beautiful diamond ring caught in the light, it was over.
“So much for privacy,” you muttered, collapsing on your couch, gripping the latest gossip magazine. The words “WAYNE HEIR TO FINALLY SETTLE! Billionaire playboy finally tamed!?” were plastered on the cover, as well as a big picture of you hiding your face with your left hand as Bruce brought you close to him. “I wonder if they’ll ever leave us alone.”
“Probably not. You’ll get used to it; it comes with the name.” Bruce kissed the top of your head, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled and sat up straight, taking a sip from it and humming in delight.
“This is real good. Did Alfred make it?”
“Why is it so hard to believe that I would make a good cup of coffee?” Your fiancé asked, sitting beside you. One hand snaked around your waist and brought you closer, and the other softly flicked your nose.
“You burned the coffee beans last time you tried. I don’t even know how that’s possible, Bruce,” you sighed.
“I did my best.” Was his response.
“Maybe stick to being Bruce Wayne by day, and Batman by night. I love a good alliteration, but you were not meant to be a barista.”
Bruce chuckled and kissed you, tasting the sweet coffee off your lips. He hummed, gazing at you through his dark lashes.
“You’re right, this is good. Most likely wasn’t made by me.”
“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”
“You are such a hater,” Bruce sighed, playfully kissing your nose. “I’m never making you any more coffee from now on.”
Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.
“Is that a promise?”
Bruce just shook his head and bent down to kiss you. You smiled against his lips, and he took the opportunity to give your waist a good squeeze, causing you to flinch.
“Stop that! I’m going to spill this all over the couch!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time – I recall someone spilling coffee all over me and somehow making it my fault,” Bruce joked, raising a quizzical brow. You smiled fondly at the memory. It was your favourite story to tell.
“You weren’t watching your step. It wasn’t my fault.”
“You bumped into me.”
“No, you bumped into me because you weren’t paying attention. And then you made me spill your coffee all over you.” You smiled and kissed him again. When you pulled away, you felt him chase after you, capturing your lips with his own once again.
Brushing his lips against yours, he murmured, “And I’m glad I did. I got to meet the love of my life that way.”
“You’re so corny, Bruce Wayne. I wonder what the public would think of you if they saw you like this.”
“I don’t care what the public thinks of me as long as you’re by my side.”
You smiled, and so did he. Truer words had never been spoken.
Now that you knew he was Batman, you worried more often.
What before was considered simply a “busy night for Mr. CEO” was now “night out in Gotham, fighting criminals and possibly getting injured”. You found yourself pacing circles around your bedroom, biting on your nails, and hoping that Bruce would come home soon.
You’d asked Alfred for some tips – how could he appear so relaxed knowing that the boy he treated as his own son was out there, doing what he did? Knowing that he put himself in the face of danger so often and sometimes with no regard for his own life?
“It’s hard, Miss,” he told you over a warm cup of tea. “But in the end, Master Wayne knows what he is doing. And now he has one more reason to get back home safely. Everything will be alright.”
And thankfully, he usually did.
You two had a sort of unspoken deal.
Bruce would always wake you up whenever he returned, even if just to let you know he was safe and home. Sometimes, you’d wake up, insisting on checking him for bruises and marks, and even going as far as patching them up.
“The kitchen has better lighting, c’mon,” you mumbled, voice still coated in exhaustion. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, yawning as you made your way towards the kitchen to deal with his bruises. It was routine, at this point. Bruce sat down, you opened your first-aid kit, you two had a snack and went back to bed. It was domestic, in a way. Not really something a regular couple would do, but you and Bruce had never really been regular.
“You’re lucky that one isn’t big,” you said, pointing towards the purple bruise forming on top of his right pectoral. You’d seen worse – sometimes he came home with bullet wounds, or deep gashes on his skin. Not that this was any more reassuring, but you were just glad that compared to other nights, he didn’t seem to be suffering too much. “It should heal in a few days, as long as you keep applying the cream.”
“What would I do without you?” he asked, with a soft smile. This is how you knew Bruce had truly returned home. Some nights he’d be far too tired to speak, choosing to kiss you and softly touch you to remind you of his love. Others, he would lock himself up in the Batcave, somehow convinced he wasn’t worthy of you. Of course you offered to talk to him, to help carry his burdens, but he never wanted to drag you into that side of his life, so most of the time, he would keep to himself.
Right now, though, he seemed to be doing fine. He told you patrol was rather easy, there were no major criminals out, and that nothing was wrong. His smiles and chuckles meant that Bruce, your Bruce was back.
“I don’t know,” you said, moving to open the fridge. As soon as you did, you turned away from it and gagged. “Shit – that’s disgusting,” you said, closing the door and shaking your head.
“What?” Bruce turned to you. “Is there something wrong?”
“I think there must be something rotten in here, it smells foul. Fuck, it smells so disgusting, I think I’m going to vomit,” you mumbled, moving away from the fridge as quickly as you could. Bruce got up right after and carefully opened the door. Nothing. Nothing seemed to smell rotten – nor it would make any sense if it did. Alfred was always on top of groceries, and never in his life he recalled a moment where something was rotten or went to waste.
“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you. “I can’t smell anything bad.” Searching through the items, he opened and closed lids, smelling whatever was inside. Everything seemed to be intact.
“Are you serious? It smells disgusting – close that door!”
“Honey, I can’t find anything in here that smells bad. Maybe you’re just sensitive or something.” Bruce closed the door and walked towards you, wrapping you around his arms. “We should go to sleep. It’s late.”
You nodded into his chest and allowed him to carry you back to bed.
As you drifted off to sleep, you thought of how nice it would be if every single day was like this – patrol-wise. Bruce would come home with barely any scratches, you’d take care of him in about 10 minutes, and before you knew it, you’d be back in bed, hugging him tightly against you.
Unfortunately, the future held other plans.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t The Dark Knight himself,” a very familiar voice said.
Bruce turned around and faced the familiar mask of the Scarecrow, the man he knew to be Dr. Jonathan Crane. And he seemed to be in top shape – last time he’d seen the bastard, he was mumbling incoherently and out of his mind. How he’d gotten himself out of Arkham, Bruce had no idea, but he was sure to send him back there in no time.
“Crane.” Bruce said, ready to fight at any time. He knew Crane used a special toxin to induce fear in his enemies, and although he was immune to it, he had no idea what other people he’d convinced to do his dirty work. Had no idea if he should suspect any surprise attacks and did not want to take chances.
“You know, it’s funny that I find you here, especially after all the… studying I was doing just last night.” Crane paced around the alley, trying to get Bruce’s – the Batman’s – attention. “I was thinking, what is the big bad bat afraid of?” Placing a hand on his chin, he pretended to be deep in thought.
“Cut the crap Crane,” Bruce all but spat, “What do you want?”
Crane – the Scarecrow – however, did not seem in the mood to stop.
“At first, I couldn’t quite get it. After all, you’re just a man,” Crane put extra emphasis on his words. Bruce saw right through him. He wasn’t the first one who tried to make him feel helpless. “But then, it hit me.”
The Scarecrow kept walking around, weaving a narrative to get into Bruce’s head. The latter one stood his ground. He had half a mind to slam Crane against the nearest wall and just hand him over to the authorities, who’d already been called and were on their way, but part of him wanted to hear whatever the maniac had to say.
He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but something inside him stirred. Crane looked carefree, relaxed. What had he done?
“Tell me, Bruce,” he said the name with a twisted kind of glee, something that made Bruce’s stomach drop unpleasantly. “Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?”
What?
How did he know about him?
Most importantly, how did he know about you? Had he investigated you? Put the pieces together? Had Bruce accidentally left any sort of clue that led him to make the connection?
“Ah – right,” Crane said, removing his mask and offering Bruce a sadistic smile, “You thought no one would figure out your little secret, would you, Batman? How unfortunate.”
In about a second, Bruce was close to Crane, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.
“What have you done to her!?” He snapped, anger clouding his judgement.
“Ah, ah, ah! Now, don’t be crass, Bruce, we’re both respected men and can do this the hard way or the easy way. And I would hate for someone to find out your little secret. Wouldn’t you agree?” The man smiled mockingly, making Bruce’s blood boil.
“Who knows!? Who have you told?” he roared. All judgement and common sense had jumped off the window. Bruce remembered his training; remembered how he was told to keep his emotions at bay. Use his head, not his heart.
“This is where things get complicated now, Batman.” Crane spoke calmly. “I’m the only one who’s aware of your little secret.” Bruce almost sighed in relief. “But that can easily change. Help me get what I want, and I won’t tell a soul. Do anything to stop me, and I’ll let the whole world know who’s hiding under the mask. And believe me – every Arkham inmate would like to know.”
Bruce lowered the Scarecrow onto the ground, breathing heavily. Jonathan Crane knew his identity, knew who he was, where he lived, knew who his wife was. If he didn’t play this correctly, you’d be in great danger.
Reaching towards his pocket, Crane pulled out a small phone.
“In here, I have all the information about you, and the Missus. If you cross me, call for backup, or do anything that would sabotage my plan, I’m sending this file to every phone in Arkham City.”
Bruce weighed his options. He had to be careful. Get the phone out of Crane’s hands, lock him up –
A loud gunshot could be heard through the alley, and the man with the mask in his hand fell on the ground. It took a while for Bruce to understand what was going on, but Jim Gordon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I didn’t say you could shoot –“
“Sargeant, we’ve been after Crane for months now, I wasn’t going to let him go this easily!” A younger man in a GCPD office called out, moving towards Bruce and the now dead body lying on the floor.
Jonathan Crane was dead. The Scarecrow was dead. The only person who knew his secret was now dead. Instinctively, he bent down to pry the phone from the dead man’s hands. With a few clicks, he realised he wasn’t bluffing. A message with a large file entitled THE BAT was ready to be sent at any time. Bruce deleted the thing and destroyed the phone with his bare hands.
That had been close.
Too close.
The GCPD had killed Crane, and while normally Bruce would be against the killing policy, part of him kept thanking whatever inexperienced officer had decided to shoot him.
That was too close.
Crane had said no one else knew of his identity. What if he was bluffing? What if the phone was just a means to threaten him, meanwhile, everyone back in Arkham already knew?
“You okay?” Bruce turned to look at Jim Gordon’s worried expression. “It’s not often we see the Batman worried.”
“He knew who I am.”
Gordon took a step back – quite literally – eyes wide as he put his hands on his hips.
“Did he now?”
“He was going to tell everyone in Arkham City should I not help him along with his plan.”
Both men remained silent, staring at each other, before Gordon turned to look at his officers.
“I know you stick to your no-killing policy, but maybe this one was for the – “
The Batman was gone.
“ – Best.”
He’d spent the night at the cave, terrified to return to you.
What was he going to do?
Jonathan Crane had found out about him, so who’s to say someone else wouldn’t? Sure, the average criminal could not simply put together that he was Bruce Wayne, but there were always going to be people like Crane, who held big grudges and had a very high intellect.
It was simply a matter of time before someone else found out about you.
And Bruce couldn’t have that.
He ran Crane’s words over and over again in his head.
Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?
He was right. While he was out at night, protecting the city, you were at home, with no one to protect you. He couldn’t bring you along – that was out of the question. And he couldn’t confine you to some secluded area. He knew you’d get upset that he was treating you like a baby, assuring him you could take care of yourself just fine.
You couldn’t.
Bruce had to protect you. He had to keep you safe, out of harm’s and criminal’s ways. Tonight, it was Crane, merely threatening to tell everyone about you. Tomorrow, it could be someone doing good on their promise.
He tried hard to think of what to do.
And the only idea that seemed like it could work, made his heart ache immensely.
He loved you. He loved you more than what he could possibly say. It tore him apart to be away from you, it broke him to simply think of hurting you.
And yet, it would keep you safe.
Bruce loved you.
So, so much.
He loved you so very much, that he was willing to do whatever he had to keep you safe from harm.
It would break his heart, yes. And yours too, surely. But after tonight, he couldn’t risk it. He would go the lengths of the earth to keep you safe and sound. He made his way towards the Manor and thought over his plan.
There was no way you’d believe him if he ever told you he did not love you. No, that wouldn’t work. You knew him far too well to know when he was lying.
He couldn’t say he was trying to protect you either. One thing he loved the most about you, was your stubbornness. If he told you all he was trying to do was keep you safe, you’d laugh in his face and promise you some measly criminals did not phase you. It warmed his heart, in a way, to know you’d stick with him through thick and thin, but it also made him worry.
What could he possibly do to keep you away from him?
And that’s when it hit him.
You had to see it.
It wasn’t an ideal solution – hell, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to even think about it. But if it would keep you safe? Bruce was willing to give it a try.
You’d gotten home earlier from work. Bruce knew this. You were supposed to get home around 6 and a half on Tuesdays, but it was currently 6 and you were already hanging your coat by the door.
“Good afternoon, Miss.” Alfred said with a polite nod, hurrying to your side. “You’re home earlier than expected.” A lie. Bruce had spoken to your coworkers earlier, and they’d told him you’d be off work sooner than expected. Alfred was in on the whole plan as well. It didn’t please him one bit, but he knew once Bruce got an idea, he would go through it until the very end.
“I told you to stop with the ‘Miss’, Alfred, my name is fine. It’s been fine for four years, and I’m sure it’ll be fine for the rest of our lives.” You smiled at him. You’d been trying to get Alfred to use your name for all the years you’d been dating Bruce, but to no avail.
“I’m sorry Miss,” he replied. “Old habits die hard. And please, allow me. It’s part of my job.”
“You’re family, Alfred. What would it take for you to call me by my name?”
“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”
“I’ll see that he takes care of it right away.”
Alfred smiled as you turned to make your way towards the bedroom, and when you were no longer facing him, your expression turned to one of sadness. Was this really what it had come to? Was he about to go on with this?
He didn’t want to, but there was no way he was going against his boss’s rules.
Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.
“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”
“Oh,” you hummed, “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him to return.” You continued walking.
“No, Miss – he’s in his office. He’s told me not to disturb him, nor let anyone do it, since he’s working on some very important projects for Wayne Enterprises.”
Weird. Bruce never shut you out, even when he was busy. Sure, he might have things to do, but he would always keep his door open should you want to talk to him, or just kiss him.
“Well, that’s fine, I’ll just say hello to him and go take a shower.” You offered Alfred a smile and turned to instead walk towards Bruce’s office. “Did he tell you what work? He never mentioned anything about a project. Is it new?”
“I’m not sure Miss.” Alfred said, his heart beating slightly faster now that you approached the office’s door. He knew exactly what to expect once you opened the door, but it didn’t really make it easier. “He told me he was going to be busy all afternoon, told me not to go in, and closed the door.”
“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”
“I suppose so, Miss.”
You furrowed a brow. Odd. And it’s not like he told you anything at all – letting you know he’d be busy or working up until late.
“That’s alright, Alfred. I’ll go check up on him. He must be really tired,” You said, and approached the door. And now, you were even more confused than ever. Weird sounds were coming from inside the office. You could make out two voices – Bruce’s, of course (you’d know his voice from a mile away), and a female one.
What in the world could Bruce be possibly doing behind locked doors with a woman?
You stilled, straining your ears to better make out the noises coming from inside. And you flushed deep red once the realisation hit you. Grunting, groaning, moaning.
No.
It couldn’t be, now, could it? There was no way.
You turned around to face Alfred, whose face seemed to go white as a sheet of paper.
“Y-You said he locked himself inside and sent you away?” You asked.
“Yes, Miss.”
“O-Okay.” You mumbled, facing the door.
The voices got louder. The female voice got higher and shriller, and tears clouded your vision. You mustered up all the courage you could find in yourself, and burst the door open, gasping loudly at the scene before you.
A naked woman was lying on top of your fiancé’s desk, cheeks flushed and hands desperately clawing at his back – Bruce’s back. He was on top of her, hand hidden in the crook of her neck as he groaned, rutting faster against her.
You stilled in your place, completely paralyzed. There were no possible words to describe what you were feeling now. Anger? Heartbreak? Sadness?
The woman let out a loud moan and wrapped her legs tighter around him.
“You like that?” Bruce grunted, lifting his head to look at the woman, who replied with another broken moan and a tug of his hair.
“Bruce?” you said, heart breaking in a million pieces.
He looked up. Really looked up, staring into your eyes. Inside him, something broke as well. He was doing this for your own good. For your safety. He had to keep you away, had to give you the life he knew you couldn’t have as his wife. It was too dangerous.
“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly getting away from the woman on the desk. He stared at you, dumbfounded, scrambling around to quickly get his clothes.
“Hey – hey – what are you doing?” The woman asked, looking at him, before turning to you and her eyes widened. “Oh!”
You scoffed, looking in between the two, and stormed away, tears running down your cheeks.
“Honey!” Bruce called. He quickly managed to put on a pair of pants, and ran after you, heart pounding in his chest. You were mad. This was really happening. He was going to forever ruin the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and all because of the Batman. He’d betrayed you and broken your heart.
But it was for your own good.
“I can’t believe this,” you said through gritted teeth, walking towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you. Bruce was able to catch it right before it shut closed, and the expression in your face was sure to haunt him forever. Your lovely eyes, usually bright and lively, were dull and red. Your tear-streaked face was something Bruce had never wanted to see in his life – at least not when it pertained to something bad.
“Honey, please, it’s not what it looks like.” He pleaded, walking towards you.
You were quick to move aside.
“Don’t give me that not what it looks like bullshit! I saw you Bruce – God damn it, I saw you with another woman.” You said, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably. “How could you!?”
“Look, darling, if you could just let me explain –“
“Oh! Explain!” You hurried inside the closet, fetching one of your travel suitcases. There was no way you were staying inside this house – his house – any longer. You needed to get out. Needed fresh air, needed to get away from him. “What is there to explain? How you were balls deep inside some woman you’ve found somewhere? Oh, really nice, Bruce, lovely explanation!”
“You have to understand –“ Bruce explained, in between shallow breaths. “You weren’t supposed to find out, you were supposed to be at work.”
“Ah, yes. Of course I wasn’t supposed to find out.” You scoffed and busied yourself with throwing clothes inside your suitcase. “That much I know.”
“I’m sorry – “
“I’m sure you are.”
“I didn’t want it to come to this!” Bruce snapped, and you finally turned to him.
“Come to this?” Your voice was low, frail, frightened. Fuck. What was he doing? What was Bruce doing? Was this worth ruining your relationship over? Yes. Yes – of course it did. If it meant you’d be safe. Everything was worth it if you were safe.
You’d have your heart broken, yes. But in a few months, maybe years, you’d find someone else. A nice, normal man, with no secret identities and no secret life. You’d find a nice man and settle down. He would give you all his time, worship you like you deserved to be worshipped. Would take care of you and love you, and never put you in danger.
And you’d be happy. You’d be so happy; you’d have long forgotten about the asshole Bruce Wayne, who’d cheated on you and broke your heart.
“Yes, come to this.” He repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I was supposed to have ended this long ago, and yet I let go for far too long.” Bruce tried to force some venom, some harshness into his words. He wasn’t used to talking like this to you, nor did he want to – but he had to try.
“What do you mean?” The clothes in your hands were long forgotten, and you just stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I just – look, I hate to do this right now, and in these circumstances, but…”
“But?”
“We can’t be together anymore.”
Your eyes widened. What?
“I can’t keep lying to you. I don’t love you anymore.”
These words hit you like a truck.
Didn’t love you anymore?
“What?”
“That’s right.” Bruce sighed, trying to keep his composure. “This relationship is a mistake. You’re holding me back, and I just don’t love you anymore.” His voice was devoid of any emotion, while inside, he could feel everything slipping out of control. He loved you. How could he say such things? How were such words leaving his mouth?
“You – you don’t love me anymore?” You asked, eyes tearing up once more. Your breaths were coming in shallow; you couldn’t breathe, nor believe the stuff you were hearing.
“I don’t. I’ve been miserable – miserable – in this relationship,” He said your name, running a finger through his already unkempt hair. “I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Propose, settle down, get married – I can’t do it. I don’t see a future with you anymore. Please, you can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same!”
“No! I can’t!” You didn’t sound like yourself. You sounded sad, broken, out of breath, completely terrified. You thought your life with Bruce was going very well. You loved him, and he loved you. Yeah, okay, maybe he had some more work to take care of as of late, but that didn’t warrant a breakup. Did it? “We – we’ve been so happy, Bruce!”
“Fuck – I don’t love you anymore! This, this – this relationship is killing me here! I can’t keep on doing this, can’t wake up and pretend to be your Brucie, or a family man, or God forbid, someday your husband!” Bruce was fighting hard to keep his emotions away from this. Instead, he channelled all that energy into pretending to be angry with you. He put all the anger he felt towards the outside world and every criminal in Gotham, into this fake argument.
And by the look of your face, he was doing a good job.
“How… How long have you been doing this?” You whispered. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. Weren’t sure if you wanted to know how long your husband had been betraying you, sleeping with some other woman. Or women. It made you nauseous just to think of that.
“I…”
“Just tell me, Bruce!”
Bruce sighed, looking away.
“Three months.”
A choked sob was ripped from your throat, and you grabbed the nearest thing – a shoebox – raising it above your head. There were a million thoughts racing through your head, a million emotions plaguing your mind. But before you could throw the damned box at his head, you ran into the nearest bathroom, puking your guts out.
The whole situation made you nauseous alright.
As soon as you’d puked whatever you had to, you got up, washing your mouth and your teeth. Then, you turned to Bruce. He was standing in the middle of your bedroom, looking at you with a mixture of sorrow, disgust, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
You couldn’t stare at him any longer.
“I’d appreciate it if you left the Manor until the end of the day,” he said, looking at the ground. “I would like the master bedroom to be clean of your things.”
How could he speak like this? How could he say all of this after everything you two shared? Every word, every kiss, every touch? Had it not meant anything to him? Clearly not, by the way he was behaving.
You wiped your tears (unsuccessfully, since they just kept on rolling down your cheeks), and walked towards your closet, proceeding to stuff your clothes inside the suitcase. Just as you were about to shut your first suitcase, Bruce interrupted you.
“I’ll have someone else take to you the rest of your things. Just take that right now.”
You stood up, turning to him. First, he cheated on you, then he admitted to not loving you, then he broke up with you, and now he was kicking you out at full force.
You sneered.
“Where the hell am I supposed to stay, then? I live here.”
“Lived. Not live. You don’t live here anymore. Just get a hotel room somewhere, I’ll pay for it. But you have to go.”
“Why? So you can go back to fucking your new girlfriend?”
“Precisely.” The bite in his words shocked you.
There were no words. No words beside three little things you’d never thought you’d utter at the man standing before you.
“I hate you. I hate you, Bruce Wayne.” You said, tears cascading down your cheeks and marring your so lovely face. “Everyone warned me about you, but I didn’t listen. I was too in love with you to care about what anyone said.”
Bruce still refused to meet your gaze. He was sure that if he did, he’d break down too. And he was close, too close to let all of this go to waste.
“Should’ve listened to them.” You whispered.
And walked out, suitcase in hand.
“Alfred, make sure you take her – “
“I’ll see to it myself, thanks. I don’t need your help.”
With these words, you were out the door, and out of Bruce’s life.
As soon as you were no longer in vision, Bruce broke down.
He sat on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. You were truly gone. Forever. He’d done what he had to, and now you were gone. It was for the best, yeah, but that’s not to say it didn’t hurt.
Alfred quietly walked into the room. The sight of his boss leaning forward, looking absolutely miserable was a low blow. Finally, he’d found a source of happiness, of peace, of solace. Finally, he’d get to see his boy grow up, start his own family.
But all of that was over now.
He wouldn’t be there to walk you down the aisle and congratulate Bruce on his wedding day. He wouldn’t be there to see him drop to his knees when he found out you were carrying his child. He wouldn’t get to teach Bruce all the little hacks he learned from caring for him as a baby, wouldn’t get to tell your child the charming love story his parents had.
Master Wayne was miserable before you.
He was sure he’d get worse now.
“Master Wayne, I’ve sent Miss Roberts on her way.” He said quietly, standing on the doorway.
“Did you pay her?”
“Yes.”
“Enough?”
“She won’t tell a soul.”
The two men remained in silent for a while. Alfred did not know what to say. He understood where Bruce was coming from. He’d tried to talk some sense into his young master’s head, but to no avail – Bruce was going through with this madness and that was it. He’d tried telling him it wouldn’t matter; you loved him and would remain by his side forever, but he wouldn’t hear it.
In his head, this was the only solution.
“She’s going to be fine,” Bruce mumbled, dropping his hands, and looking at the ground.
“You’ve broken her heart, sir.” Alfred replied.
“She’ll be fine, Alfred,” Bruce retorted harshly. “She’ll go on with her life, forget about me, and she will be safe and that’s why we’re doing this – so she’s safe!”
The older man closed his mouth. There was nothing else he could do or say. It was done, and there was no turning back.
“Will you be fine, Master Wayne?” he asked at last.
Bruce did not answer right away. He shook his head, and Alfred swore he could make out the shape of his shoulders shaking ever so slightly – was he crying?
After a few moments, Bruce finally managed to calm himself. He took a deep breath, quickly wiped away any tears that might’ve escaped, and nodded, still avoiding his butler’s gaze.
“I will be. All that matters is that she’s safe. I’ll learn to be fine.”
“Is there anything you wish, sir?”
“No, you’re dismissed.”
And so, Alfred walked away, leaving Bruce to think the last few minutes over.
He’d lost you, sure.
But he would keep an eye on you from afar. Protect you from a distance. Make sure you were doing alright and that no harm had come to you. He’d be a silent protector.
And although he was hurting, he would bottle up his emotions.
Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.
But keeping tabs on you had proved to be quite harder than what Bruce expected.
You’d gone completely off the map, off-grid. You’d forsaken social media and most electronics and were doing a fantastic job of keeping away from his prying eyes. He knew for a fact you’d left Gotham, but to where, he did not know exactly. His sources told him you’d probably changed your identity, not wanting to be seen as Bruce Wayne’s ex-girlfriend anymore, wanting a life of your own.
At first, Bruce was terrified.
If you changed your identity and moved away, how was he supposed to protect you? This whole thing was meant to keep you safe – how was he supposed to live without knowing if all of his and your suffering had been in vain?
“Master Wayne, I understand your concern for the Miss’s well-being.” Alfred had told him one night as Bruce was drowning his sorrows in some very-expensive liquor. “But sometimes, we must respect the choices people make for their own safety.”
“What if something happens to her, Alfred?” Bruce asked, voice raspy from exhaustion and the drink. “What if she’s in danger and I can’t reach her? What if this whole thing was for nothing?”
“Sir, part of caring for someone is respecting their decisions. Dr. Jonathan Crane is long gone, and you yourself told me the information he had died with him. There is no one after you or the ones you love anymore. And most important, there is no one after her. If she’s changed her name, it only means she’ll be safer.”
Bruce sighed. Alfred was right to some extent – as he usually was. Crane was dead, and he hadn’t told anyone about you. Changing your name and your identity would probably keep you even safer.
“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”
“I know, Master Wayne. I did too.” Alfred sighed, placing a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “But you did what had to be done, now, didn’t you? You said it yourself. She is safe, and that’s all that matters.”
Bruce tried to follow that mentality.
For months, he tried to forget you.
Unfortunately, not only had you wormed your way into his heart, you’d done the same thing to his mind. He would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, swearing he could feel your lingering touch, hear your heavenly voice.
During meetings, all he could think of was how you’d usually send him funny texts and memes you found on your lunch breaks. He no longer got your calls, telling him all about the gossip you’d heard at your workplace, and how much you missed him.
The manor felt empty without your touch, your laughter, your presence. Just the mere existence of your toothbrush was enough to calm him down, to remind him you were there, and real, and his.
But he was left with nothing.
You’d gone, and with you, taken his heart.
And yet, despite all the pain, all the heartbreak, life went on.
Days passed; seasons changed.
The daily cycle continued, interrupted.
The sun rose and the sun set, a small reminder that life waited for no one. Alfred told him many times that he couldn’t dwell on the past, and while he tried to, it was hard.
Winter became spring, spring became summer.
And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.
He tried to move on – really, he did. But he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved it. He didn’t think of you as much anymore, but he also didn’t think of much else. It was as if he was numb to the outside world, going about his daily routine as Bruce Wayne and his nightly duties as Batman automatically.
It was as if he was on autopilot. Charity galas were boring without you to make fun of everyone, fundraisers sucked if you couldn’t talk to whoever was interesting and get him to have a good time.
Life went on, but it was as if his had paused.
Alfred did his best to keep him in check. Did not allow him to go without any meals, made sure he attended whatever events he had to, and patched him up after rough patrols. He too missed your presence but knew better not to mention it to his boss. All he wanted was for the young master to go back to the person he once was.
One day, he was on his way to Wayne Enterprises. It was late in the morning, but as the CEO of the company, he could afford to be late once or twice. Not only that, but it was also only natural for Bruce Wayne to be fashionably late – even if it was to his own job.
The car suddenly came to a halt. Something underneath Bruce seemed to deflate, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.
“I’m sorry sir, there seems to be something wrong with the tires. Perhaps you could go out and check?” The butler replied with a cheeky grin.
“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”
“Not nearly, sir.”
“How unfortunate. Well, I’m quite comfortable here, so why don’t you check it yourself?”
Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.
After around 5 minutes, he looked inside the limo and sighed.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a flat tire. But we also don’t have a spare one in the trunk, so I’ll have to call someone.”
“Really?”
“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”
Bruce shook his head, waving his newspaper dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go by foot.”
“Are you sure, sir? It’s still a few blocks away. Perhaps we should wait until someone comes to fix it. And what if something happens to you?”
Bruce gave his butler a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, to which the older man just sighed.
“Alright, fine, you stubborn, stubborn man.”
Bruce chuckled and exited the limo, quickly making his way down the street.
It would be good, clear his head of all the torment. Walking gave him peace, made his mind feel at ease. It was as if a burden as lifted off his shoulders, even if momentarily.
Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.
He was busy looking around himself – eyes trailing the balconies of older Gotham buildings, taking in every person, every door, every window, every life that lives inside each apartment – to notice the figures before him.
But once he was content with the things he’d seen (and decided to organise some sort of charity event, since his city needed him, especially the older streets, with decaying buildings and lives he were sure must be hanging by a thread), he looked up.
And what he saw stole his breath away.
You were standing a few meters away from him, pointing at a shopwindow that had caught your eye. A friend stood by your side; arm linked with yours. He couldn’t care less about her, eyes focused on you, on the big summer hat resting on top of your head and providing shade to your face, on the beautiful smile you wore, on the way your lips moved as you spoke animatedly, on the lovely white dress you adorned.
But most importantly, his eyes were focused on the pretty swell of your belly, and on how one of your hands cupped it lovingly, and the other trailed circles on top of it. He eyed the swell of your breasts that had grown larger, the way your entire being seemed to glow. Not from the sun, just entirely from you.
Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.
You were back. Back in Gotham, back in his life, back to him.
Don’t be an idiot – surely, she’s not back for you.
And how beautiful you looked, hand protectively over your belly. How dazzling, how breathtaking, how shining.
Without even realising it, Bruce stepped forward, eyes glued on your figure. You didn’t seem to notice him, still paying attention to the store in front of you. He could make out the small chatter you were having with your friend – and how much he’d missed the sound of your voice, the lovely musicality of your laughter – it made him feel lighter, fuller, happier.
“I like the blue one,” you said, turning to your friend, “And it’s rather big, so I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”
Your friend seemed to agree with you, “It’ll last for a few months, yeah. But the yellow one is pretty too, don’t you think?”
“Please. A Batman onesie? The last thing I want is my son to wear one of those. He won’t even know who he is, anyway, it’s not like I’m raising him here.” You scoffed.
The girl you were with chuckled, and only then did she notice Bruce, standing far too close.
“Um,” she poked your arm, and you turned to him.
It was as if the whole world faded away.
Your whole story played on your head. Your first meeting, spilling coffee all over his shirt, having a coffee bought by him, the countless dates you went on, dating, moving in together, living what you thought were your happiest years ever, getting proposed to, and eventually finding your husband fucking someone else.
You quickly dropped your gaze to your stomach before looking at him once again and taking a step back. It was stronger than you, an instinct to get away from this man as soon as possible.
"Hey," the words were tumbling out of Bruce's mouth before he could control himself.
When you didn't reply, he took another step forward, making you step back again.
"I have nothing to say to you," you mumbled, looking at your friend. You whispered a quick "let's go” to her and turned on your back to leave. Before you could do it, the man called out your name. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the worry, the heartbreak, the grief.
Tch, you thought, what is there for him to grieve? You're the one who lost your relationship, your home, the chance for your child to meet his father.
"Please, listen to me," he said, and you saw in his face such vulnerability it scared you. You didn't remember the last time you'd seen Bruce like this, face looking as if he was holding on by a threat.
You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.
"Did you not hear her?" Your friend came to your rescue, hand protectively over your shoulders. "She doesn't want to talk to you. Now leave it."
Bruce wondered if she knew him. If she knew what he'd done. Had you told anyone? Had you kept it a secret? Might've been hard to do so – after all, tabloids had loved to exploit his breakup, plastering it all over every cover of ever magazine in Gotham. He'd paid them off to spare you from the spotlight and public eye, but it was too late. People had already begun talking; and what they were saying wasn't polite at all.
"You need to listen to me," he said softly, "You need to listen to what I have to say."
What was he doing? What was he saying? He shouldn't even be talking to you, should be keeping his distance like he'd been doing the past few months. His head told him to stay away – to turn around, go back to the pain and the sulking and the sleepless nights between empty sheets. But his heart was reaching towards you, hoping so desperately that you'd reach out too and save him from the torment he'd been living.
He knew he had no right doing this. He'd hurt you terribly – but it'd been for a good reason, no? He'd kept you safe long enough, hadn't he?
Was it selfish of him to want you back?
Because he did – desperately so. He missed your warmth and your touch. He missed your smiles in the morning and your giggles in the evening. He missed the way you scrunched your nose whenever you took a sip out of his coffee – black with one sugar. He missed the way you walked around with nothing but his shirts on when Alfred was out, teasing him to no end and relishing in the way Bruce's breath hitched when his eyes landed upon you.
But most of all, he missed the way you always comforted him and promised everything would be alright. He missed your tender touch and your warm embrace. Missed your love, and the effect it had on him.
He needed you back.
That much was certain, and he had no doubts about it.
He couldn't bear to be without you any longer. He would keep you safe – God damn it, he would, even if it was the last thing he ever did, but he couldn't be without you anymore. He couldn't live his days inside a Manor that seemed so dull without your shine, eat at a table that seemed so quiet without your chatter, and sleep in a bed that seemed so cold without your body next to his.
Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"There's nothing you could say to me that I would possibly want to listen," you said. But your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were sure if he were to strain his ears just a bit, he'd listen to how fast it was racing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."
Bruce's heart fell. He was about to lose you again. He couldn't. His hand dropped to yours, and he held it tightly in between his palms.
"Please," he all but begged, "Just listen to what I have to say. And if you don't care about it, if you don't like what you hear, if you want to go, I'll let you."
"I don't care. Happy? Now let me go."
"Please."
The way he said it made your heart churn. His face was the epitome of heart break, eyes sagged, with deep dark bags under them. You knew Bruce hardly got any sleep as Batman, but this seemed too much. And there was something about the way he looked at you, as if you were some sort of mirage that could disappear within seconds.
You couldn't quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was your hormones feeling nostalgic. Perhaps it was curiosity, making you wonder what the hell he had to say to you that's so important.
Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.
And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.
As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.
"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."
"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"
It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.
Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.
"Tomorrow is fine."
"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"
It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.
Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.
"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"
"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.
Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.
"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?
"May I ask why, sir?"
Bruce beamed.
"We have company."
Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.
On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.
On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.
Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.
"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.
"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.
The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?
"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.
"I think we can manage."
You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.
"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.
"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "
"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."
With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.
"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.
Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.
"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.
"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."
"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,
"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"
"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar – something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"
"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.
You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.
"Please, do sit down."
You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"
Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.
"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."
"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.
Still home.
"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.
"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?
"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"
You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.
"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."
Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.
"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."
"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"
Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?
No, not bitter. You were right, after all.
"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."
"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.
"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."
"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."
"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.
"I just need to tell you what really happened."
Another sneer.
"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."
"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."
"Tempting."
"But please, just let me speak."
"Okay."
Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?
"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."
The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.
"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."
You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."
"I ran into Crane."
It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.
"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.
"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."
Your face was pale with worry.
"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"
"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."
You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.
"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."
In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?
"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."
"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,
"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."
"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.
"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."
The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."
"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."
Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.
"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."
"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"
"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."
"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"
"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?
"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."
"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."
"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"
Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.
"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"
"By breaking my heart."
"It had to be done."
"It didn't.
"I was thinking of you."
"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"
Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.
"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."
"You left me!"
"I was protecting you!"
"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"
It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.
"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."
"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"
"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.
"Is the child mine?"
You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.
"You have no right to ask that."
"Please. Just... Is it mine?"
You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.
"Yes," you mumbled, softly.
Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.
"When did you find out?"
"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."
"Him?"
"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."
Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.
"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."
These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?
"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"
Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."
"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."
"You don't love me anymore?"
"That's not what I said."
"So you do?" A hint of a smile.
"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."
"I understand."
Bruce sighed and stood up.
"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."
Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.
"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?
"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."
Your eyes widened.
"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.
You looked away at the ground.
Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.
"Have you been with anyone, after..."
"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."
You nodded thoughtfully.
"Would you like to feel your son?"
"Huh?"
"He's kicking. Would you?"
Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.
"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."
You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.
"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...
"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."
You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.
"But... I'm willing to try."
Bruce's head shot up.
What?
"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?
"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.
And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.
It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.
"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."
Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.
"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."
It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.
"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"
He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.
"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."
He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.
"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."
He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.
"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.
You replied in kind.
"Please."
And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.
His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.
You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.
When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.
"I love you." You spoke.
"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."
You smiled.
Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.
You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.
But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.
You'd finally found each other again.
A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!
So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.
So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.
A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"
This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.
I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.
I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.
Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bale!bruce wayne#bale!batman x reader#bale!batman#bale!bruce wayne x reader#the dark knight#the dark knight trilogy#nolanverse#the dark knight fanfiction#the dark knight fanfic#nolanverse fanfiction#bruce wayne fanfiction#batman fanfiction#batman x reader#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader
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Stuffed Full
Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru
A/N - Again another part of CursedKitty universe! This is basically a smut series at this point but im not complaining lmao, this was partly requested by a lovely anon, which i also mixed with a request from someone on AO3 <333 Ty my lovess, ive been so busy recently and ive been getting little sleep but ive finally got another part for you all, they seem to get longer and longer lmao, And thank you all so much for all the love on my CursedKitty Universe <3333 It means a lot to me that you all enjoy it so much, i love to read any comments you guys leave it really makes my day :,) <333333 Ily all so much i hope you enjoy my second written smut ever </3 If you want to request anything feel free! <3
summary - You beg them for cock so don't be surprised when you get two.
warnings - she kinda begs for it so ig consensual? But Dubcon to be safe, female anatomy, smut, two cocks in one hole, double stuffed, clit play, squirting, a lot of cum, lots of praise, dumbification? i think so, very vague yandere vibes but theres something there, crying during sex, overstimulation? probably, shes desperate lol, heat vibes, (let me know if i need to add more please)
genre - Oneshot
wc - 2.3k
-not edited yet, will be soon-
It’s the end of the day when Geto and Gojo come back to see Kitty. They arrive at the high end apartment complex and start making their way up to the top. It’s paid for by Gojo who has the most money amongst the two of them, but Geto pitches in with the bills every now and then and food stock when they want to stay here instead.
It wasn’t often that they’d use Gojos apartment, but it was nice for some privacy every now and then. True privacy. It was also good during their vacation times. It’s especially come in handy now that they have a cute little kitty to look after.
They only keep things stocked really for them since Kitty doesn't need to eat any human food, but every now and then she gets curious about the snacks they eat. Being able to smell the scent of the chicken broth, or Gojo’s sweets looking particularly alluring with bright colors and fluffy insides.
So they’d feed her every now and then while she has fun enjoying the new tastes and textures in her mouth. Besides, they have fun too, pulling her into their laps and squeezing her hips and flesh while she nibbles on the soft sweets in their hands and licks the remaining scraps off of their fingers.
When they get to the door Gojo begins unlocking it and they make their way inside. Runes decorate the door on the inside, as well as every window in the apartment. Just a precaution they’re taking to ensure she doesn't accidentally escape, to keep her contained.
Gojo lets his bag slump to the floor while he stretches obnoxiously, looking forward to the entire week off they have with Kitty. Geto trails in behind him and actually hangs his bag up, closing the door behind him he calls out, “Kitty cat, where are you?”
A shuffle and thump could be heard down the hallway before the pitter patter of bare feet on the floor could be heard coming towards them. When Kitty rounds the corner she practically pounces on the first person she can see.
Her hands immediately gravitate towards Getos trousers, where she tries tugging and pulling on them in an attempt to get to what's inside.
A startled sound escapes Geto as he instinctively grabs onto her wrists and pulls her hands away from his dick. Now holding her squirming arms in the air his brows furrow as he looks to Gojo.
“Don’t look at me!” he says, holding his own hands up in the air in a mocking act of surrender. He’s leaned up against the back of the couch, one leg hooked over the other as he watches on in amusement from behind his glasses. “What’s got her so riled up?”
Geto huffs and looks back down at the squirming curse in his arms. She’s resorted to crying, large drops of tears trickling down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin. Her bottom lip is wobbling and she's looking up at Geto almost pleadingly.
The more the two men take in the curse the more they notice and the more curious they get. They notice the light sheen of sweat glistening on her skin, the way her thighs try and rub themselves together and the sticky wet sounds they make when they do.
Geto seems to clock it a second before Gojo does. Cooing down at the Kitty caught in his arms he practically purrs, “Awh, such a good kitty, were you trying to ask for my cock? Is that it? Need my cock to make yourself feel better?”
She's blubbering, pretty tears still falling down her cheeks as her hands still try and squirm away from his hold. She seemed to register his words at least somewhat as she looked down to his trousers again before looking back up at him with those begging eyes.
God, he can already feel himself hardening in his boxers.
“Oh? Kitty is asking to be stuffed, is she? This is a first.” Gojo says, already standing up and making his way to the bedroom.
Geto follows shortly behind him, lightly dragging Kitty along with him as she fumbles over her steps, his strides being bigger than hers. He hums in response to Gojo. Gently sitting Kitty down onto the ruffled sheets. It's clear she was in them before they got home.
Gojo grabs onto Kitty and pulls her further up the bed, pushing her onto her front when she tries to grab at his trousers as well. He keeps his hand on her head and pulls her hips up with the other, flipping the loose shirt over her ass and hips to rest on her arched back.
Her hips wiggle and Gojo groans. He brings one hand up to massage her ass, fondling and gripping the flesh. “She’s dripping Sugu.” He murmurs, voice dropping a few octaves and becoming husky.
Her tail had been curled around one of her thighs the entire time, some of the fur wet with slick as it uncurled itself and rested against her back, the tip flicking back and forth every now and then.
His hand pushing her head into the sheets briefly massages her scalp when she starts whining, becoming restless. A gentle purr starts up in her chest while her ears flatten against her head but she still continues to squirm.
“Okay Kitty, don't worry you’ll get your milk soon.” He brings the hand that was groping her flesh to his zipper, pulling down his trousers just past his hips, his boxers following shortly after. He spits in his hand and takes his already hard cock, giving himself a few quick pumps before lining himself up to her pulsing hole and pushing his way in.
He leans over her, one hand still keeping her head down while the other goes back to gripping onto her hip, no doubt bruising the flesh beneath his fingers. His glasses slide down his nose as he finishes sheathing himself inside of her.
Her little hands are resting either side of her head while gripping the sheets beneath. Her eyes are half lidded and small pants leave her open mouth, leftover tears dribble over her water line and soak into the sheets below her.
Gojo groans squeezing his eyes shut tight while his chest heaves, her tight walls still trying to suck him in further while they pulsate and flutter around his hard cock.
When his eyes open again he catches Geto’s gaze from where he's standing at the edge of the bed in front of Kitty’s head. “You didn’t waste any time, huh?” he says while raising an eyebrow.
“I was already hard and besides, she was begging for it.” Gojo responds after catching his breath.
“You didn’t even prep her.”
“She can take it.”
“Can she?”
“Are you jealous I got here first Sugu?”
Geto goes quiet for a second at that while they stare each other down. It’s only when Kitty starts trying to move her hips and whine again that he speaks up. “So what if I am?”
It’s Gojos turn to go quiet for a second until he blurts out, “I’m sure she can take two.”
Geto stares at him in shock as a small smirk graces Gojos face, his glasses slid down far enough that his eyes are exposed. A glint of mischief and lust present in the irises.
Geto sighs before smirking himself, “I guess we’ll find out.”
Gojo huffs out a laugh before reaching under Kitty and pulling her up with him so they're both kneeling on the sheets. She yelps when he pulls her up, his cock moving inside of her, before leaning against his chest. He rests his head between her fluffy ears while watching Geto climb onto the bed and kneel in front of Kitty.
Geto unzips his trousers and pulls them just below his hips exactly like Gojo did. The impatience getting to him as he eyes her dripping pussy being stuffed full with Gojos cock. He brings one hand between her legs to swirl loose circles around her engorged clit while he pulls his cock out.
Kitty squeals and her hips jolt at the sudden contact of his cold fingers to her hot flesh. She begins mewling at the consistent pleasure to her nub while Gojos cock presses against all her sensitive spots from inside. Her ears are pressed flat to her head while she twitches and gasps in his arms. Her hands grasping on tightly to the arm wrapped around her middle holding her up.
“Can feel her squeezing me.” Gojo murmurs into her hair, head tilted slightly so he can watch Getos fingers pleasure the cursed kitty in his arms.
Geto shuffles forward a bit more so he's pressed against Kittys front, her perky breasts squished between them while he stops circling her clit to rest the hand on her hip. The hand still gripping tight on his cock guids it to her already stuffed hole.
“It’s going to be a tight fit.” Is all he says before trying to squeeze his way inside the desperate Kitty they caught.
She wails at the extra intrusion, Gojo trying to calm her down with hushes and coos, using his hands to caress her flesh. When Geto is about half way in he stops for a second to groan and pant, murmuring about how tight she is before pushing the rest of the way in.
Kitty squeals at the feeling, being stuffed full with two cocks overwhelming her senses. She's mewling and blubbering, the pretty tears from before had returned to caress her cheeks. Geto joins Gojo in rubbing and whispering to Kitty, giving her a second to get used to them together. They weren’t that cruel.
Gojo brings his hands up to fondle and massage her Kitty ears, helping her relax faster as a small purr tries building in her chest, Geto continuing his caresses over her hips, sides of her breasts, shoulders and back.
It’s Gojo that starts moving first, beginning to thrust in her tight walls the smallest amount. Geto’s breath catches at the feeling before he begins to do the same.
They’re alternating between thrusts, whenever Gojo pulls out a bit, Geto pushes in. They’ve resorted to resting their hands on parts of her flesh to give them something to hold onto as they pick up the pace.
Gojo has one hand on her hip and the other arm wrapped around her middle. Geto has one hand on the other hip and the other hand holding the back of her head, pressing her into him more.
The more their pace picks up, the louder Kitty gets, sputtering and gurgling between the two of them, gasping and mewling as well. Her little pussy was stretched to its limit, pulsing and gushing at the unrelenting pleasure. It was getting easier and easier for the two to move inside her from all the slick she was producing.
When they’re finally at a consistent pace they both lean down to whisper and murmur in her ears, barely making out words of, “Such a good girl.”, “Such a pretty little Kitty, taking us so well.”, “Letting us fuck you at the same time, naughty Kitty.”, “ You’re my perfect little curse aren’t you?”, “God, listen to your pussy taking us so well.”
Neverending praises being fed to her while they pounded her with their cocks.
She's almost sobbing by the time they’re about to cum, her chest heaving, cheeks and chest flushed, eyes lidded while the tip of her tongue pokes out of her mouth, droplets of tears still fresh in her eyes.
When the two of them start panting and groaning, their rhythm starts to get sloppy, one of them reaching down with two fingers to rub and flick over the exposed nub. The juices that have dripped onto the sheets below provide more than enough lube to smoothly glide over the flesh.
They can both feel her tense up around them, an inhuman shriek leaving her as her whole body shakes. Gojo throws his head back and starts fucking into her with a rabid pace, chasing his orgasm with Geto. Her walls suddenly tense up further, almost making it impossible for them to move as her walls pulse and gush fluid, squirting out juices onto both of their cocks and soaking the sheets below them.
Kitty goes limp between the two of them. Holding her up while they finish groaning and moaning, fucking their orgasm up into her.
None of them move or say anything for a few minutes after they finish cumming. Leaning against each other while they try and catch their breath.
Eventually Gojo pulls out, bringing a whine out of the overstimulated Kitty in his arms. More of her juices, now mixed with their cum, drip from her hole, onto the ruined sheets below and down the length of Getos cock which was still inside of her.
No one says anything as Geto shuffles the both of them up the bed a little before collapsing onto his back, Kitty tucked into his chest with an arm going around her back and the other burying itself into her hair to massage the base of her ears.
A few light mewls escape her as another gentle purr begins building up in her chest, content now after being stuffed to the max.
Gojo comes back a few minutes later, collapsing into a pile on the sheets next to the pair after having run a bath for them all to relax in.
He looks over at the two, making eye contact with Kitty as she gazes at him with half lidded eyes. The small purr audible if you listen in closely. Gojo reaches over with one hand to caress her cheek. Dancing the tips of his fingers under her eyes and down the sides of her face.
“We really picked a cutie, didn't we Sugu?” Gojo murmurs.
Geto hums in response, voice husky, “Never letting her go.”
Gojo huffs a laugh as he brings his hand back to join the other tucked behind his head. “Wouldn't dream of it. Our pretty little curse.”
#Enjoy my second attempt at smut <3#geto x reader#gojo x reader#geto suguru#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere geto#yandere geto suguru#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#CursedKitty#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#gojo x reader x geto#gojo smut#geto smut
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hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant
I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.
I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.
Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.
This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.
I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.
I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.
That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.
I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.
Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.
About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.
But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?
A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.
Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.
#good omens fandom#good omens mascot#asmi#weirdly-specific-but-ok#this is me y'all#good omens brainrot#thanks for breaking me i figured you should know about me#crowley#just crowley i'm going to shatter soon#drarry#draco malfoy#fandom culture#fandom things#doctor who#dw fandom#more inaccurate summaries coming up#good omens#fanfiction#and how it ruined and saved me
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6,98,99. Sorry for the multiple numbers, they just work so well together.
Also love your work!💜
my kink is karma - matty healy
(mdni) in which your ex wants to give you a birthday treat. too bad for your boyfriend. 2099 words.
warnings: cheating, semi-public sex, daddy kink
Firstly, you’d like to say that you’re not a spiteful person, thank you very much. But fuck if it doesn’t feel good to run into your ex drinking alone while celebrating your birthday with your friends and your shiny, new boyfriend. Matty salutes you with his glass when you spot him, and you ignore him pointedly. He won’t fucking leave it alone, though — that’s always been his problem.
“Of all the gin joints in all the world, she walks into mine,” says Matty, low in your ear as you go to order yourself another drink at the bar. You hope he doesn’t notice the shudder that runs through you at the sound of his voice. “Whatever she’s having on my tab, yeah?” he adds smoothly, and you roll your eyes.
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll have a bottle of the most expensive champagne you’ve got,” you grin. What? He’s got the money for it, and you aren’t going to turn down a free drink on your birthday, of all days. Matty shrugs when the bartender looks at him to confirm, and she hands you the bottle in a cooler.
You turn to leave, go back to your friends, but Matty takes hold of your wrist, gentle enough that you could break out of it. Something stops you, though. “Happy birthday,” he mutters. “Thought about callin’, but…” he blows out a breath. “The way we left things, I didn’t know if you’d wanna hear from me.”
Feigning casualness, you shrug, pretending like the reminder of your heart-wrenching breakup doesn’t tear at you all over again. “Yeah… Well, you’re here now,” you say matter-of-factly. “How’ve you been?” you ask, despite knowing the answer. Over the last six months, you’ve taken some kind of twisted pleasure in keeping tabs on him, in watching his life fall apart.
The two of you split in April, leaving you forced to move out of the apartment you loved that was in his name, nine days after you’d paid your half of the rent. June, he got arrested in a drunken bar fight; July crashed his car, the car he loved more than almost anything, leaving it completely written off; August, the girl he’d been seeing since suspiciously soon after your breakup left him with no warning. Meanwhile, you’ve had a promotion, gotten into the perfect relationship and everything is falling neatly into place.
Your reaction to him being around is involuntary, you tell yourself, fucking Pavlovian. You were together for three fucking years, of course your body still responds to him. It’s still learning what it’s like to live without him. Matty sighs, and you jolt out of your reverie as you remember you asked him a question. “Not great,” he admits. “Drinkin’ alone on a Friday night not tip you off?” he says, bitterness tracing his tone. “And yourself?”
“Oh, I’ve been great,” you say blithely. “I’m making great money, I’m in love, properly this time,” you can’t resist adding. “And you just bought me a bottle of champagne and told me everything sucks for you! What more could a girl want on her birthday?”
Matty scoffs. “You’re still the same,” he says coolly. “Bratty when you’re not getting fucked right, huh?” he adds, your stomach swooping at his words.
You don’t know what makes you admit it, some heady combination of mixed drinks and Matty’s presence for the first time in months overcoming all sense, but you murmur, “M’not. He’s not as good as you. S’the only thing I miss.” You try to weaken the admission.
Matty’s eyes light up, and you groan internally. “Is that so?” His grip tightens on your wrist and you stumble towards him when he tugs on it, a sickening pulse of arousal dripping down your spine. “Got everything you want, huh? Even down to your perfect little boyfriend. But you think about me when he’s fucking you, don’t you?” he breathes, something hard and dangerous in his tone, your heart thudding traitorously as he leans closer.
“I… That’s not true.” you say, but the wavering of your voice betrays you, and he smirks wickedly.
“You can’t lie to me, baby. I know you too well.” The statement lodges in your throat like you’ve dry-swallowed a pill, the truth ringing disgustingly clear. “What do you say? You want one last good fuck, for old times’ sake?”
You should pull away. You need to pull away. You have to pull away. But you can’t. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” you say. Matty’s eyes darken, but you know he took note of the most crucial element first: it wasn’t a refusal.
“I never cheated on you,” Matty says seriously. “I did a lot of other shit, I know I did, but not that. Never that.”
You swallow hard. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“One more time. One more fuck. I need you out of my system,” you breathe, and you could almost cum from the filthy look on his face. Guiltily, you slink to the bathroom, casting furtive glances around and praying nobody spots you trailing after Matty and slipping behind a locked door.
Matty slams you against the door the second it shuts, devouring you in a harsh kiss, teeth and tongue sliding together almost violently. Having his hands on you again feels horrifyingly good, nauseatingly familiar. He’s hard, you can feel as he presses his body against yours, and you whimper pathetically into his mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Matty groans, like he can’t help himself. “Makes me sick. Been fuckin’ dying for you, baby.”
“So hurry up,” you snap. “I know you’re here alone, but I have people who care, and not much time before one of them notices I’m missing.”
“Such a brat,” Matty teases. “Need a good fuck to shut you up, yeah? S’alright, baby. Daddy’s here now. Gonna give you what you need.” The bottom falls out of your stomach and his words, a helpless, strangled moan escaping you. “Oh, missed your Daddy, have you, darling? Not given your little boyfriend my name, right?”
“N-no,” you stammer. “He… he wouldn’t understand. You’re my Daddy, couldn’t replace you.” Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your mind dizzy with desire, the words spilling from your lips without permission.
You’d forgotten how it feels with him, how Matty gets you sick with lust, thick and palpable in the air of the small room. “Good girl,” he croons. “Bend over for Daddy, yeah? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
You obey, the sight of your reflection sickening. You look fucked-out already, flushed red and panting. Matty’s hands come to rest on your hips, stroking appreciatively over the curve of your ass and pushing your too-short dress up around your hips. Torturously slow, he pulls your panties off, motioning for you to step out of them when they hit the floor. “I’m keeping these,” he says, slipping the scrap of lace into his pocket. “Something to remember you by, yeah?”
Wrapped up in his touch as you were, the reminder that this is a one-time thing shocks you like you’ve been doused with ice water. Right now, you don’t have a fucking clue why you even broke up, not when his fingers are so achingly close to your dripping core. “God, Matty, please!” you choke out, widening your legs desperately.
“Give me a minute, baby. Missed this pretty cunt so much. Gotta make sure I don’t forget a thing, if this is the last time m’gonna get to have you.” He brushes his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the barest touch over your swollen clit. Meeting your gaze in the dingy mirror, Matty wraps his lips around his wet fingers, moaning exaggeratedly as he sucks them clean. “God, missed the way you taste, darling. Sweetest fucking girl I’ve ever had,” he promises, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.
You squirm, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. You hear the sound of a foil wrapper tearing open, and before you can process, Matty slides into you, your knees buckling at the sudden fullness. “F-fuck,” you whimper, the feeling of being wholly surrounded by him familiar as he thrusts deep into you, pleasure cascading over your bones.
“God, you feel so fucking good, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Daddy’s gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name,” Matty promises, shushing you soothingly as you whimper. His hips slam against yours, ecstasy flooding your veins as your thighs bash against the sink. He fists a hand in your hair, dragging you up to meet your own gaze in the mirror. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how gorgeous you are, falling apart on my dick. Right where you should be, hm?” he murmurs, heat flooding your belly as you watch yourself take his cock over and over. “He could never fuck you like this, huh? Whose girl are you, really?”
“M’yours, Daddy. Yours, still yours, all yours,” you babble, cunt clenching wantonly around him as his smirk grows and his pace speeds. You moan horrifyingly loud when he hits that spot inside of you, too dizzy with desire to control your noises.
“Shh, baby, shh. Try not to be so noisy, yeah? Can’t let anyone know what we’re doin’ in here, that this lying fucking bastard has you split open and begging on his cock.” He throws your words from your final fight back in your face, pinching your clit meanly and fucking you deep. You can’t hold back another whimpering scream, and he scoffs. “Needy little whore can’t keep quiet, huh?” he murmurs, sliding two of his fingers into your mouth. Eagerly, you suck on them, your moans muffled as saliva pools under your tongue.
Heat scorches through you, every thrust of Matty’s hips and grunt that falls from his lips sending an illicit spark of pure pleasure racing up your spine. You can’t think, can barely breathe, choked in desperate lust that drips out of you and soaks him. He’s right, you can’t remember anything but him, his name circling your head, denting your brain out of shape. Nothing but Matty, Matty, Matty. “This fuckin’ pussy drives me insane, baby. Always so wet for me, so wet for your Daddy. Could have this all the time, if you wanted.”
His words cut through the fog in your mind as Matty slides his fingers free from your mouth to let you answer. “What do you mean?” you stammer, your disloyal heart skipping a beat.
“We had issues, yeah. But we were good together,” Matty murmurs, rubbing distracting circles into your clit, training you into giving the right response. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last six months. About us.” He slams his hips against yours on the final word, pleasure roiling in your stomach, every muscle in your body stringing taut. “I want another try. I know it would be better this time. I’d be better,” he promises, nails digging possessively into your hips.
“Matty, I–” You’re at a loss for words. His face crumples almost imperceptibly; if you weren’t so attuned to him, you wouldn’t have known.
“S’okay, baby. Fucked you too dumb to answer, I get it. You wanna be a good girl and cum for Daddy?” You nod wildly, his circles over your clit getting tighter and faster and you whimper helplessly, but you don’t miss how he’s stopped meeting your eyes.
Ecstasy winds around your veins, sticky, hot desire pinning you still as Matty fucks into you. “Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp out, the tension in your body finally breaking, stars going supernova behind your eyelids. Your legs tremble, your entire body going limp as waves of pleasure swirl in your stomach and buffet your organs.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Matty murmurs soothingly. “Daddy’s got you. Whenever you want, I’ll be here,” he promises, and a split-second later you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, the feeling of his cum spilling in your cunt sorely missing.
It takes a few moments before your legs have stopped shaking enough for you to stand, Matty supporting your waist as you clutch your abused muscles. “We should… I should get back out there,” you say, raking your fingers through your hair in an effort to tame it. You both look well-fucked, the question of how you’re going to explain your absence rattling around your mind. Matty meets your eyes one last time, looking over his shoulder as he unlocks the door.
“When you get bored of him, call me. I’ll be waiting.”
#Sorry for all the daddy kink i unlocked something in myself writing white and gold#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy imagine#writing#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 smut#smut#smut prompt fills#request
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Saw you had requests! And this may be a trigger warning but it’s a fix I’ve thought about for months.
Eddie, bestie female reader. You are newer to Hawkins and go to a party with Eddie robin and Steve. Not big into drugs or drinking to stick with punch.
While Eddie is off making some money you’re not paying attention to your cup. And someone slips in something.
Soon you start to feel weird… and scared. Someone finds Eddie who is by your side in a second. Friends freak out your crying and scared possible culprit is found and Eddie wants to kick his ass but he is taking care of you. And then from there where ever you think it could lead? Ed’s taking you home but staying and helping you through your high/trip so sweet doesn’t even need to be secretly in love or it could be but nothing happens because… well after a scary thing like that… no thanks.
Idk it’s been stuck in my head and again don’t write if you’re not comfortable.
Im not going to anon because I’m afraid I may miss if you do write. But again if not that’s totally okay!
Hey, thanks so much for your request!
Word count: 1,723
CW: reader gets roofied, let me know if there’s anything I missed!
Eddie x bestie!fem!reader
You looked around Steve’s house which was filled a bunch of people you didn’t know. You hadn’t really liked parties, but Eddie had begged you to go and you found yourself unable to say no to him. He was just so cool and pretty that you wanted to do whatever he asked when he flashed you those doe brown eyes.
You were still new to town and in no position to pass up friends so that meant hanging around people you didn’t like just so full your social circles. People like Brad were who you despised the most. He had been trying to sleep with you for months only to be met by rejection. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, approaching you every chance he got and that night hadn’t been an exception.
“Hey,” he smiled, leaning over the back of the couch. Eddie was always quick to jump to your defense, but of course he was nowhere to be found, taking an opportunity to sell, it being a huge party and all.
You ignored him, looking down at the red plastic cup in your hand. Eddie had given you some punch that had just been a bunch of different types of alcohol mixed with some juice. You didn’t drink much so it was perfect, the juice completely covering up the bitter alcohol taste that you weren’t a fan of.
You thought that not speaking to Brad would help him get the hint, but that only made him speak again. He took your silence as playing hard to get and goddamn was he determined to get you.
To Brad, you were just another body to use. He loved that you were innocent, having never slept with anyone. He just wanted to add yet another notch to his bedpost, wanting your name to be on the list of virgins he had fucked.
You had felt bad for the girls who had been desperate enough to sleep with Brad and you definitely weren’t going to be one of them. He was gross and you had eyes for only one man. That man being nowhere to be found when you needed him.
You hadn’t been paying attention and Brad had slipped something into your drink, quickly moving away before anyone could catch him. If you wouldn’t say yes, he was going to take matters into his own hands.
But Robin had caught him and hurried over to you to stop you from drinking the now contaminated juice. You had already taken a sip before she was able to get to you. She watched in horror as you swallowed the liquid and quickly took the cup from you. She pulled you in the kitchen to keep an eye on you and poured the juice down the sink.
She then grabbed onto Steve who just so happened to also be in the kitchen and turned him around to face her, panic in her eyes.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He could see the look on her face and started to worry. Robin was known to freak out on a regular basis, but this was different. He could feel it. Something was wrong.
“Y/n was roofied.” He felt his knees go weak at her words and looked at you for any signs of sickness, but you seemed fine. It was only a matter of time before the symptoms took over.
“I’m gonna go get Eddie. Take her to your room,” she told him, looking around the house for the curly head of hair.
Robin was quick to run from the kitchen, pushing through all of the partygoers to find the metal head. She didn’t have much time and it didn’t help that Steve’s house was packed and there was no trace of Eddie anywhere.
Steve took you to his room so you could have some quiet. You already felt dizzy, having trouble walking, feeling like the place was spinning. Everything was distorted and didn’t look right.
You continued you to try to walk but fell to the floor, the drugs in your system quickly taking over. You fell face first in the foyer and people were quick to part like the Red Sea as you laid there in the middle of them.
Everyone just stared at you while Steve was picked. He looked down at your face to see that your nose was red from where it hit the floor. He carried you up the stairs and to his room, hoping that Eddie was going to be there soon. You were fading fast and you looked so scared, it was terrifying to him. He didn’t know you as well as Eddie, but you were his friend and he hated seeing you like that. So scared and helpless.
Steve opened the door and closed it behind him with his foot before carefully laying you on his bed. His heart was racing and he was wondering where the fuck Eddie was. It didn’t take long to get to his room no matter when in the house you were coming from.
Steve sat you up against his headboard, making sure you didn’t fall asleep. He laid next to you awkwardly, not taking his eyes off of you.
“I need Eddie,” you slurred. Steve wanted Eddie too. He was the only one who always knew what you needed. Steve was going to try his best, but he was terrified for you. He couldn’t imagine going through something so scary.
“Eddie’s coming sweetheart. He’ll be here in a second.” Steve wasn’t sure how sure his statement was true, but he was going to believe it anyway.
The door burst open and Eddie and Robin rushed into the room. She sat on the bed next to Steve while Eddie made a beeline for you. He took you into his arms and the two of you slowly lowered yourselves to the floor. You cried into his chest and he let you, knowing how scared you were. You needed to let it out and he was going to let you talk about it if you wanted to.
Robin and Steve made themselves scarce, wanting to give to two of you some space. Eddie pulled you onto the bed and you cuddled up into his side, feeling nothing but dizzy. Everything was doubled and you had to close your eyes so it would go away, but it didn’t. It only got worse when you closed your eyes.
“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I should have been there with you.” Eddie was going to blame himself for the rest of his life. Sure, if he had been with you, you wouldn’t have been drugged, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just horrible incident and the only person to blame was Brad.
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you slurred. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve been paying more attention.” He was getting angry that you were blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault at all. You should have been able to have a drink without worrying whether there were drugs in it or not.
“No,” he said a bit too harshly, sitting up he so could look you in the eyes. “None of this is your fault, y/n. It’s Brad’s.”
“Exactly,” you opened your eyes. “So you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. You should be allowed to leave me for a few minutes without worrying about me.”
“I always worry about you. You’re my best friend. That’s my job. And I didn’t do my job for one night and something horrifying happened to you, y/n. You were assaulted.” That word made it sound so much worse. You knew that was what happened to you, but didn’t really have time to think about it until Eddie had said it.
Just because Brad hadn’t done anything to you physically didn’t mean that you weren’t a victim. Eddie wanted you to know the severity of what had happened and wanted to you to know that you had every right to feel scared.
You fell silent after that, the words heavy between the two of you. Your heart rate quickened as everything set it. You didn’t want to believe it, very much in denial of the severity of the situation. In your mind, if you didn’t acknowledge it, it wasn’t actually happening.
You slowly drifted to sleep and Eddie kept an eye on you to make sure you were okay. He felt sick seeing you like that. You hadn’t been acting like yourself and even after your discussion, he was still blaming himself for what had happened to you. He’d get over it eventually, but for now, he was going to let himself drown in his guilt.
You woke up the next morning from the sun shining through the window. You felt so much better, but you were still a little groggy. You sat up and panicked when Eddie wasn’t by your side but let out a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting at Steve’s desk. He had some toilet paper in his nose and a bag of frozen peas was sitting onto top of one of his hands, his other hand of top of the bag.
He smiled when he looked at you and you returned it, his smile always infections. You eyed the peas once more and wondered what had happened while you were asleep. It seemed like Eddie was always up to trouble.
“What did you do this time?”
“I punched Brad.” He said the words so proudly and for once, you didn’t feel like scolding him. If anyone deserved to have the shit punched out of them, it was him. He deserved a lot more, but you were going to take what you could get as far as his ass kickings went.
“Steve helped. We went to his house this morning and taught him a lesson about dragging women before calling the cops. They arrested him an hour later so he’s definitely not to be bothering you anymore.”
You didn’t think anyone had done something so nice for you. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie would have done anything for you. He would have even left Brad alone if you asked.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You walked over to him and planted yourself in his lap. He wasn’t caught off guard at first, but arm quickly wrapped around your waist while you rested your head on his shoulder.
“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to. And that was the least that fucking dick deserved.” It was true, and even though you would probably never to get over what had happened to you, knowing that Brad was behind bars made you feel a whole lot better.
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I was hallucinating a few hours ago due to lack of sleep bUT-
Thinking about Steve who's confident in his bisexuality, told the kids that he likes both and that's okay because he knows they need, trying to flirt with Eddie who is in denial bc it has to be a joke, right? Harrington, the straightest man alive? Steve lady's man Harrington? Nah, it's only on his mind. Meanwhile Steve is getting more and more sad thinking he's being rejected.
Now, think about the Hellfire members knowing that Eddie's a crush on Steve because he talks about it CONSTANTLY and be sad because "he doesn't have a fat chance in hell". They're also very protective of him so if anyone new in the club is being homophobic, they just throw them out.
So one day Steve is in the Hellfire to wait for the kids and flirt a little, telling himself that "this is the last time, you'll get a GRIP and MOVE THE FUCK ON!" is what he tells to himself. He tries a little and drops after a while, so in the break time the old members tell him that he needs to leave, because they won't allow anyone doing that to Eddie, as in: they think Steve knows that Eddie's gay and likes him so he's flirting with him in a mocking way.
So he leaves.
And when everyone (Eddie + the kids) is asking where is Steve, they say that he was being homophobic, an automat answer and they quickly try to cover up because they don't want to do that to Eddie, but Dustin immediately response was:
"how can Steve be homophobic if he's bi?"
And the world freaking EXPLOSES!
not the steddie hallucinations LMAO
Thank you for sending me this ask because I'm president of "Steve is a confident disaster Bisexual" and I'm making t-shirts for club members as we speak.
Anyways, I think Steve would be extremely confident in his sexuality to the point where he just likes whoever and goes for it (with the right precautions of course). When Eddie comes out to him and the rest of their group, Steve doesn't even think about coming out to him as well because he's been out to the group for so long he just assumes that everyone close to him knows.
So when he realizes he likes Eddie and flirts with him, he doesn't know what to take from his reactions: he doesn't look annoyed or uninterested (think about the girls he would flirt with at Scoops) but he doesn't respond either, which is weird for someone like Eddie, who engages flirty banters even with plants.
Let's add to the mix that Steve's love life has been a mess recently, how many times can you be rejected before you think there's something wrong with you?
That's why he decides to go all in one last time and then leave Eddie alone, but even the worst scenarios in his head did not prepare him for Eddie's friends telling him off on his behalf.
Steve's head is a mess but most of it all, he's ashamed. He thinks he must've been so annoying and oblivious to Eddie's disinterest that the guy had to ask his friends to put Steve in his place for him.
So he finds himself in the school's parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car and mentally counting how much money he and Robin will need to move to another country (because not even the most embarrassing moment of his life will make him go anywhere without her), completely unaware of the chaos inside the Hellfire room.
Eddie isn't in a better mental state than Steve, so he's letting the kids and the band do the talk for him.
"What do you mean he's bisexual? of course he isn't, he's Steve Harrington!" Gareth exclaims, voicing out one of Eddie's many thoughts.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? do you need a special license for that?" Mike huffs, crossing his arms.
Jeff steps in to defend his friend "Of course not! But he's king Steve! And he's constantly picking on Eddie, you heard him!"
"Picking on him? Even a child could see that he has been throwing hints at Eddie for weeks now! What are you, five?"
Erica's words put an end to the discussion, silence falls down abruptly.
Eddie jumps up off his throne and follows wherever Steve had disappeared before, distantly hearing his friends muttered apologies.
He sighs in relief when he sees Steve hasn't left yet.
The car is parked the opposite way of the entrance, so Eddie can only see Steve's back, but he can tell he's gesturing and, when he's close enough, he can hear him talk.
"You can never take a hint, can you? This is so stupid, how can you go around saying you got game when you can't even tell if someone's interested in you? Harrington charm my ass" Steve's hands are all up in the air and Eddie realizes he's gesturing similar to how Eddie does on a daily basis.
It's cute.
"Please leave the Harrington charm out of this" Eddie interjects, making Steve jump in surprise.
He looks like a deer caught by car lights, but he hides it quickly behind a smirk that Eddie refers to - at least in his head - as bitchy Steve "so, no more sending your gang after me? are you worried they didn't do a good job? or am I forbidden to stay even in the parking lot? I'll let you know that I-"
Eddie loves mean girl Steve, but he has no time for him now, so he interrupts "Go on a date with me."
Steve's raised eyebrow and incredulous look tell him that he doesn't take him seriously in the slightest.
"I said, go on a date with me" he repeats.
"I heard you the first time" Steve's voice is close to a whisper "I just think you must've hit your head on your way here."
"You're the one always taking hits on the head, not me" Eddie takes a step closer to him.
Steve steps back "well, there's a first time for everyone" he says, looking away.
Eddie moves close again, his face only a few inches from Steve's "I don't hear an answer."
Steve's eyes flicker on Eddie's lips for half a second, "I didn't hear a question" he bites back.
Eddie smirks and, under Steve's shocked look, jumps on his car.
"Eddie, what the fuck? get down of my car!" he's trying to maintain a firm tone but Eddie can tell he's amused by his antics. Eddie couldn't ask for anything better.
He looks around the parking lot to make sure they're alone, then loudly enounces "Steve Fucking Harrington-"
"Don't say it like it's my middle name!"
Eddie ignores him "- king of the school grounds, best Scoops Ahoy model-"
"what does that even mean-"
"Worst employee that family video has ever had, Faberge Organics favorite costumer-"
"I told you that in confidence."
"Would you do this humble commoner kneeling at your presence" he kneels down theatrically as he says so "the honor of accompanying him for an evening of frivolous romantic shit that society expects you to do when you find a respectable partner?"
“If I say yes will you get down?”
Eddie moves his weight from one foot to the other, making the car under him bounce “I might consider it.”
Steve lifts his arms, apprehensively “Okay, yes fine! Now please get down-”
Eddie jumps down, right into Steve’s arms.
———
All the hellfire club members decide to stop spying on them and get back inside when Eddie’s highly entertaining antics turn into a gross make out session.
“So” Dustin elbows Gareth’s side “does that look homophobic to you?”
#sorry for any mistakes#I’m falling asleep as I’m writing this lmao#and for making you wait#but I had fun writing it!!#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and eddie#stranger things#steve x eddie#bi steve harrington#ask me anything#steddie ficlet#ficlets#sbc writes
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