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#wayne's just out in the living room turning the tv up so he doesnt have to hear them making out
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Daily Ficlet
I'm challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today's prompt is coffee smell.
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Eddie wakes to the smell of coffee.
That's not unusual for him. Wayne drinks coffee like water, has it both to wake up and go to bed. It's just that, usually, the coffee smell is fainter, having to make its way from the kitchen and through the door to his bedroom.
Did he leave the door open last night? That'd have been a bad idea, given what Steve and he got up to-
Oh. Oh shit! Steve and he-
Eddie cracks his eyes open finally. He's where he usually is when he wakes up; on the side of the bed closest to the door, on his stomach, arm hanging off the bed and face turned towards the door. The door, which is open, and Eddie knows he closed it because he remembers Steve pinning him against it as soon as Eddie had turned back around. Steve crowding into his space, one hand braced on the door beside Eddie's head, the other curling possessively on Eddie's hip. Steve dipping his head to nibble at his shoulder, before kissing and nibbling his way up Eddie's neck, jaw line, capturing Eddie's bottom lip between his teeth before kissing him properly, like Eddie has been wanting him to do since- well, forever probably.
He does a quick scan of the room, but Steve's shirt isn't on the floor by the door where Eddie had ripped it off him. And that. It's fine. Eddie's used to not getting the guy at the end of the story. There were no expectations, they didn't- well, there were promises whispered, but that's just. It's just the kind of words that slip out when wrapped up in the heat of the moment, yeah?
("God, you're so beautiful, Stevie. Beautiful and perfect for me." "Yes, yes, perfect for you. Wanna be. Wanna be perfect for you. Just you. Yours." "Mine. Just mine. You're mine, and I'm yours." "Yes yes yes yes!")
Just words said in the dark of night. Even if Eddie wants them to be real now. Wants to be Steve's and wants Steve to be his. If he just lays here, he can pretend a bit more. He can pretend that Steve's still asleep on the other side of the bed. That the door is open for any other reason than Steve slipping out while Eddie slept.
His other arm, the one trapped beneath him, is starting to get pins and needles, though, so he has to move. He heaves a sigh and digs his elbow into the mattress, using it as leverage to roll onto his back and away from the edge of the bed and-
"You awake babe?"
Eddie doesn't yelp. He'll deny it happening to the end of his days, but he wasn't expecting to hear a voice. Wasn't expecting- "Stevie."
"That's me," Steve says with a laugh. Steve, who has, apparently this whole time, been sitting up on the other side of the bed, Eddie's well-loved copy of The Hobbit in his hands, his shirt tragically back on. He tosses it softly towards the foot of the bed before shifting to drape himself across Eddie, propping himself up with an elbow near Eddie's head. Steve's other hand comes up to brush the hair from Eddie's face before trailing down his neck, across his shoulder, and down his whole arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before Steve tangles their fingers together and gives Eddie's hand a light squeeze that he reciprocates on instinct. It's the right thing to do, Eddie decides, because the smile the spreads across Steve's face is soft and so fond before disappearing from view because Steve lowers himself down to press sweet and gentle kisses to Eddie's lips, once, twice, thrice, before peppering kisses to every inch of Eddie's face he can. Eddie is expecting morning breath, but Steve smells of coffee.
A smile spreads across Eddie's own lips, and laughter follows, because this is so sweet, so fond, makes him feel so safe and loved that the joy Eddie feels has to break free from his body somehow. He chases Steve's mouth down again to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth to chase the coffee taste. The kisses turn lazy and eventually Steve pulls back, a dopey smile on his face that Eddie is sure is also on his own face. "Good morning."
"Good morning indeed," Eddie says, his thumb rubbing softly against Steve's where they're still holding hands. "Why're you wearing your shirt?"
Steve gives a one shoulder shrug. "Didn't think Wayne would appreciate the view as much as you do."
Eddie blinks up at him. "Wayne's up?"
"He made the coffee that lured me from your bed," Steve says, and his tone is teasing but there's something in his eyes, in the way Eddie feels him tense just the slightest that makes Eddie think 'Oh!' again.
Eddie had been so sure early, that Steve would rather slink away before Eddie woke, but he thinks Steve has the fear of being kicked out now that he's awake. Of having overstayed his welcome, or pushed at a boundary he didn't know Eddie set. Can't have him thinking that. "Well, you're probably right, he wouldn't enjoy the view as much as I. You let me know if that ever changes. I'll not have an old man trying to steal my boyfriend."
That's the right thing to say, Eddie knows immediately. Steve settles completely against him in a way Eddie hadn't known was possible. It's not that Steve gets heavier as he lays across him more, but Eddie feels him press more into him somehow. Clutches tighter at their joined hands and leans back down to rubs his nose against Eddie's cheek. "Worry not, babe. There's only one Munson I want to call boyfriend."
And that. Well. How is Eddie supposed to not kiss Steve -his boyfriend- silly after that?
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word-wytch · 2 years
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Emotional abt the idea of caring for Eddie SO SO SO much and him just being dumbfounded cuz why the hell would you care about a freak like him? He's not complaining, far from it, he just... doesnt understand? And you just wanna SHAKE HIM sjshdbddb
UGH god I know. It makes me wanna cry.
Eddie had to grow up really fast. Uncle Wayne tries his best but he’s really never been much of a cook. A lot of the time it was frozen dinners and drive-thru takeout. Eddie never complained but he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss a real home cooked meal that went beyond spaghetti, like his mom used to make. He’d just gotten used to it. Gotten used to doing most everything for himself.
When you see his empty fridge and sparse cupboards something in you is stirred. You’d never seen yourself as very domestic, but for Eddie? You were a domestic goddess.
See, Eddie doesn’t know how to ask for things. Wouldn’t ever want to burden anyone with asking. He felt like enough of a burden already. Wayne sleeping in the living room while he took the only bedroom. He sacrificed it so graciously, always made Eddie feel like he was welcome to it, the poor boy had been through enough anyway. But Eddie still didn’t like asking.
When he sees you with a casserole the first time at his doorstep he’s so confused. “What did you bring that for?” he asks with a nervous sort of chuckle, perplexed, “Shit is there some kinda potluck I didn’t know about?” he jokes to deflect.
But the warmth in his eyes as he looks at you with a mouthful of food in his cheeks, so satisfied and full, the little chuckle he gives you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. It sends your heart tumbling and you make a silent pact with yourself that you will do whatever it takes to see that more often.
That’s how it started anyway, with the casseroles. The easy transportable stuff like lasagna. Then it turned into you just bringing all the ingredients over and cooking there a few nights a week. Playing records and making a little party out of it. Wayne would ask Eddie where he managed to find such an angel.
Then in the evenings when everything was quiet and you were watching tv in the darkness, you would snake your arm around him and card your hand through his hair. And he would get so comfortable, really let his guard down, and sometimes let you guide his head gently to your lap where you would continue the hypnotic, gentle raking of your fingers across his scalp. And sometimes, sometimes you could hear his breathing deepen, a telltale shudder of his chest, a twitch of his leg, and you would sit there for hours if that’s how long he slept for.
He would always wake up apologizing, lamenting about how your legs must be asleep or how badly you must have to piss. But you would always reassure him, always make sure that he knew he was never a burden.
Always reassure him that the little things he never asked for were the things that you loved to do for him the most.
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Misjudgement
Requested by; Anon
“If request open, will u pls do some angst bruce x reader? Where they used to date for months but he doesnt take their relationship seriously. Its just a cover for public image to him. He thought the reader is a shallow person like the usual women he dated before. But reader is actually smart but choose to pretend to be shallow. Bruce broke up with her. Then years later they met n he learn who she is. He want to get to know her n pursue her but she still hurt with him. Thanks in advance.”
Warning; Angst (not really because I suck) and sudden change of POV. And off the prompt, just a little.
You had your arms around Bruce's, smile not leaving your lips as you went to your 12th date with him. You've dated for months with him, you love him with all your heart. You always at your best when you were with him, all dolled up so you wouldn't feel self-conscious and out of place when he brought you to a fancy looking place.
Tonight was the night he promised that he would spend his time with you, he brought you to a quite fancy restaurant. You thanked all the gods up there that you've made the right decisions to dress as fancy as you could even though your intention was only to spent the night with him, playing or whatever, but being a shy woman that you were you couldn't say it. The words were stuck in your throat.
So you gave up and just spent your night dining in a restaurant nearby until late. You didn't have any appointments or meeting with your manager and the other agencies tomorrow morning, being a model as a job was hard, you were treated like a barbie doll.
The both of you sat down on a table near the window, the view was so great you couldn't take your eyes off it. But when you did you spotted a tinge of uncomfortableness in Bruce's blue eyes, he somehow didn't look as happy as you did.
"Bruce?" You called to the billionaire softly, placing your much smaller hand on top of his. You could feel he tensed as he looked at you, "what's wrong?"
"Don't worry darling," he finally responded after a moment of awkward silence, he moved his hand from your gentle grip to put it into his pocket. "I'm okay." He assured.
You didn't believe any of his words but decided to let it drop because you knew he wouldn't like it if you pushed the topic too far. You also had this weird feeling, your chest tightened when you think about it. Why?
The foods came, the two of you had a little chit chat, you did most of the talk since Bruce had preferred to listen instead of talking. You asked him about his day he only answered with boring as usual with a chuckle.
It went on and on, it got worse each day. You were always the one who called him, asking him about his day, what is he doing, telling him that you missed him, saying goodnight even I love you. You missed him a lot. On Saturday night you decided not to contact him to see if he would do it.
You received no calls and no messages. No nothing.
It saddened you, it made your heart drop when you woke up to work. Your manager had warned you about him, telling you that he was just using you to which you answered with,
"Give him a break, he's a kind and generous man. He's sweet, all of you need to see past his walls, his barriers. I love him not for his money, I love him for...Him, nothing else matters."
You managed to smile for the entire day until someone came into your changing room. A mail woman, you greeted her with the widest smile on your face. She returned your smile and gave you a letter.
"Oh, from Bruce." You smiled softly after reading where it was from. Your smile dropped at what you saw next.
Let's end this. This won't ever work.
-B.
The mail woman saw your tears that slowly dripping down to the paper, they dropped right on Bruce's signature. The ink slowly faded because of your tears, the old woman you didn't know hugged you hoping it would bring you some comfort. You gladly accepted her little embrace as you cried.
Your manager who just came back from a coffee shop saw your state. She immediately put the coffee cups down and joined to embrace you. You kept on breaking down, everything was so blurry, so monochrome. All colors were gone from your eyes.
Since then you stopped being a model, your manager understands and she supported you. She even helped you looked for a new job, she knew how much of a smarty you were, she knew your abilities and skill because you were the one who helped her with everything that she couldn't handle. You became a scientist and your manager who also a lowkey smarty became your partner.
It took years for you to completely forgot about Bruce Wayne, about the good times you soon realized that you were the only one who enjoyed it, all the talks, everything. You even realized that he never took your relationship seriously, he used you. You were wrong... Or weren't you?
Soon your names were spread all over the news and cities, not because of your successful model career this time, instead, it was because of your brain. Your accomplishments, your ideas to make the city a better place, your works, your inventions. Not your body.
It was so satisfying, it felt good to be yourself and not the shallow woman everybody had come to know.
Everything you did reached Bruce's ears, he watched you from his TV in his office, he even watched every speech you made. He misjudged you, he made a wrong move. He looked down at a scarf you made for him on your first ever Valentine's day, he should've known that you weren't like any woman he had met and dated.
Those women never made something for him, they never even tried to. Bruce only could imagine how broken you were when he sent you that letter, that heartbreaking letter.
He ran his fingers through his raven hair, a sigh of frustration left his chapped lips. He had never felt like this before, why should he care? You were nothing. You were supposed to be nothing.
Then without him knowing 2 years had passed, Bruce couldn't get you off his mind. Karma is a bitch. He lived 2 more years of his life thinking about you, he now had fallen for you. He wanted to know you better, apologizes for what he did and even telling you the truth. Hours after hours he made up his mind.
He needs you.
2.31 PM, your work will be over in another 29 minutes. You didn't mind to stay longer in the lab since you enjoyed it, you enjoyed making things.
"(Y/N)! Someone is looking for you." Your colleague said, the blonde man brought in someone you hadn't met in years, you never expected to meet him here. You stared up at Bruce with wide eyes as soon as your gaze landed on him, you slowly gaining your composure back and looked at your male colleague.
"Thank you, I need some privacy."
He gave you a nod, a hint of worry was visible on his face. Of course, he knew your little scandal with the playboy, it reached everybody's ears.
"Please sit." You offered, he didn't budge and walked to where you were currently working on. It was a little device, a really small device. "What is it, Mr. Wayne?" You asked politely.
Bruce was taken aback upon hearing your voice, it was so different. It somehow had changed. When he first heard your voice it was so annoying he wanted to cover his ears every time you talked but now it sounded like a music. gentle, melodic and soothing were the only thing that could describe you right now.
Bruce didn't realize he had been silent the whole time until he heard your voice calling his name again.
"Mr. Wayne?"
"Oh, sorry." He quickly apologized.
"You should be." Your words made him tensed in his place, he looked at you still with his usual face but inside he felt his stomach churned and filled with an uncomfortable feeling.
"I shouldn't have done that." He finally responded.
"No, you shouldn't have."
More silence, you seemed so calm under the awkwardness. You couldn't help it, you were used to it. This awkwardness was the same thing you felt when you were still with him, still happy.
"Are you trying to get me back?"
Yes. He answered in his mind, I want to know you better I want to see you better from a different perspective.
"You're too dangerous for me Bruce." You continued, stopping your work and leaned your back against the seat. Eyes looking up at him sadly, "You turned me away like I begged for your money." You added.
Bruce didn't say anything, he couldn't say anything which you took as an opportunity to continue your speech. "I loved you, I did. I thought I saw through you but I was so naïve and stupid, so wrong."
You didn't notice Bruce had knelt down in front of you and gently took your smaller hand in his, it felt so warm now. The only thing you could feel when you dated him was coldness, it felt weird.
Bruce felt your fingers twitched in surprise but he didn't draw his hand back, he gave you a gentle squeeze.
"I was blind back then." He finally spoke up, "I didn't know it would hurt you that much. I thought you were like the other women and I was wrong I misjudged you. I'm just going to ask you once, I don't want to force you, will you give me another chance to get to know you better?"
You stared at his blue eyes, noticing that he didn't get enough sleep. Another silence filled the room once more before you stood up and drew your hand back from him.
"I don't know Bruce, I'm still scared." You grabbed your bag, walking towards the door before opening it open and stepped out. "I'll think about it."
[ END ]
Nope, not gonna continue this, I'm sorry!!!
Sorry for grammar errors hope you enjoyed!
-K!
Oh a little fun fact, I rewrote this like... 2 times. The other two has 2000 more words XD AND I DELETED THEM!
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