#Wayne deserved so much fucking better...sorry not sorry

[missingexaltation]

"Steve stays with Eddie at the hospital" this and "Dustin stays with Eddie at the hospital" that.

Where's my "Wayne stays at the hospital with Eddie, and gets inducted into the upside down shenanigans when the other adults hear the news while comforting their kids" fic?

Hopper isn't Eddie's biggest fan because of the drugs thing. The kid's a fucking nightmare to get through to, but Wayne's a good man, a vet, and he deserves to know the truth as to why his nephew is in the hospital. On top of that, he squares things with Wayne's job to make sure he's not fired for absence, and takes the time to explain the past few years of hell in Hawkins to him. The more they talk, the more Hopper realises what they've been through, and how much bad luck and prejudice has forced them into near poverty.

Joyce stops by with Murray, and between them they manage to get the Munsons the same governmental protection and compensation that they have bargained for. There won't be any fees for Eddie's hospital stay, their old debts are wiped, and they get a new home (a house!) to replace the one they lost. The government agents are good, but Joyce is better, and Murray is terrifying.

Claudia Henderson stops by with meals, treats and books, often bringing her son with her. Eddie saved her boy's life, she says, and she'll do whatever she can do repay them both. She's the one who gets Eddie his diploma, getting him graduated on a technicality, and Wayne cries when he finds out. She's sweet and unrelenting, and a wonderful, wonderful lady. (Wayne won't admit it, but he's very much tongue-tied and brain-soupy when she's around.)

It takes a few weeks for Eddie to wake up, and a few months before he can leave the hospital. In that time Wayne realises that he has a new network of people he can rely on. For the first time in years he's out of debt, has enough cash to spoil his nephew like he deserves, and an actual house for a home, instead of that fucking trailer.

Hell, he even has a garden big enough for growing vegetables now, and that's something he's dreamed of for years. And a porch to sit on in the evenings with whoever stops by (or Eddie, who seems to be enjoying the peace and quiet for once).

[unsolved-duvall]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary you and eddie broke up because you were too scared to love him. so when you need someone and he's the only person you want to run to, what are you supposed to do? (4.8k)

warnings talk of a bad home situation, mentions of abuse, references to mental health, anxiety, crying, very subtle mention of a panic attack, angst i suppose?, fluff, smut, kissing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), lots of feelings. i have probably missed something i'm so sorry <3

The downpour of rain beat down against the windows of your car and was almost loud enough to drown out the myriad of thoughts that were swirling around your mind. 

You didn’t know why you were here. 

That was a lie, you knew exactly why you were there. It was because this was the only place you could think to go. And Eddie was the only person you felt safe with. Never mind the fact that you had broken up last month. You had been the one to break up with him. 

But tonight every emotion you were feeling felt too overwhelming. The sadness and anxiety that you could normally let go of seemed to consume your every thought, washing over you like a wave until they drowned you. Of course, it didn’t help that the only sounds around to drown out your thoughts were those of a not-so-calming nature. 

Your mom and her boyfriend had been fighting constantly. Screaming, shouting and harsh words became a sort of white noise in your household. You would listen with your door cracked open in case you needed to call for help. You felt an innate need to protect her, even from herself. 

The fighting was so common that it rarely bothered you anymore, but tonight everything had gotten to be too much. It was non-stop, pushing you to the edge and causing you to get in your car and drive over here without thinking twice about it. 

And now you were sitting in your car, fiddling with the necklace that hung delicately around your neck, before slipping it back underneath your jumper, letting the ring that hung from it hit your cold skin. And tried to figure out what the fuck you were thinking? What made you think he would even want to see you? You had broken his heart, he had told you that. And those words played on repeat in your head every day, like your own personal form of torture. 

Eddie knew you didn’t have a great home life. It was why you practically lived with him and Wayne when you were still together. You had your own drawer full of clothes and your belongings were always dotted through the trailer. A book you were reading thrown on the sofa, your blanket folded over the back of a chair, or your toiletries in the bathroom next to Eddie’s. 

You never spoke about the reason you were there so often. You didn’t need to. Eddie knew all too well what it felt like to live in that sort of environment, so you never needed to explain anything to him. When you would turn up at his door at midnight, tears streaming down your face and shaking hands clenched by your sides, he didn’t need you to tell him anything else. He pulled you into him and rested his head against yours and asked what you needed him to do. 

You just needed to be with him. 

So that became a sort of routine between the two of you. Eddie would wait for you each night, and when you would ultimately turn up in the early hours of the morning, almost no words would be exchanged between the two of you. Instead, you would walk to his bedroom and fall asleep next to him. He understood. He knew you were tired and didn’t feel safe falling asleep in your own home sometimes. 

If simply letting you fall asleep curled up next to him was all you needed, he would do it until the end of time. 

Until you let the guilt overwhelm you. Eddie deserved better, he didn’t deserve to be in a relationship where he felt like he had to protect you all the time. You could look after yourself, take care of yourself, you had done it for years until you met Eddie. But there was this nagging thought in the back of your mind that you were relying on Eddie too much, and would eventually hurt him in one way or another. The break-up was quick, you barely let him get a word in before you left him standing alone in his bedroom. Confused and heartbroken. 

You left so quickly because you didn’t trust yourself not to change your mind if you looked at him any longer. 

Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be knocking on his door right now. It was exactly why you should turn around and go home, instead of being in the one place you shouldn’t be. It was- 

“Oh- hey,” Eddie stood in front of you, his hair falling in loose curls around his shoulders. He looked tired, unsurprising considering it was almost midnight, but still, it was an unnerving sight. His usual honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen. 

There was uncertainty flickering in his doe eyes. But he didn’t tear his gaze away from you for even a second. 

“Hey um- fuck, okay I’m sorry I should-” your voice trembled as you fought to get the words out. The truth was you weren’t entirely sure what you should even say to him. 

Do you apologise? Do you tell him what’s going on at home? Do you tell him that you feel like you haven't been able to breathe since you broke up? 

You hadn’t realised how long it had been since you’d said anything, but you see Eddie raise his eyebrows, almost hidden behind his hair, and you stumble on your own feet, taking in a shaky breath and opening your mouth to say…something. 

But nothing came out. So instead, Eddie said, “Look, why don’t you- shit, at least come inside, it’s too fucking cold to be standing out here.” 

You nodded your head and he moved to the side to let you step into the warmth. You felt something heavy settle over your chest, being back here it was… it felt like home. The soft orange hue of the lamps lit up the rooms. The aroma of home-cooked food hit you and you remembered how many times Wayne would make sure there was a spare plate of food set aside for you, in case you turned up. 

The TV was playing quietly with the soft murmurs of the dialogue, from the film he had clearly been watching, echoed through the trailer. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Eddie calling you over to the couch where he had already sat down again. 

You considered telling him you had made a mistake, but your feet carried you over to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. You sat down on the other end of the couch, pulling your legs up and sitting with them crossed in front of you. Eddie watched your every move, taking in all of your little mannerisms he had missed so much. 

“Are you…are you okay? I mean you used to come here if it got- you know if it got bad.” Eddie asked you, his eyes fixed back onto the TV the minute he started speaking to you again; almost as if he was afraid of what he would say if he kept looking at you. 

“Yeah, they uh- I don’t fuckin’ know why they do this shit to themselves. They fight all the time, they’ve gotta be miserable.” you tried to sound as casual as you could, but even you could hear the distress your voice carried. 

Eddie heard it too and it made his whole body tense up. He still wanted to fix everything for you. He still wanted to pull you into him and tell you everything would be okay. 

“Yeah I know sweet-” he cut himself off before he could finish the word, but it made you feel close to tears nonetheless. Even after what had happened, he still immediately wanted to call you that. Fuck. 

Eddie cleared his throat before he carried on speaking, clearly thinking over his choice of words. “I know but- you know they’re fully grown adults, you can’t…you have to let them sort their own shit out.” 

“That’s my mom, Eddie-” 

“I know, shit I know.” You swear you could almost see the way his eyes glazed over as his memories came flooding back to him. You didn’t know everything about his past, but he had told you enough. 

“I just worry about her. He’s not a good guy, you know? But I couldn’t stay there tonight, and I know that makes me the worst fucking daughter but-” 

“Hey, no. Don’t say shit like that.” his voice was harsher than it had been before, with a kind of authority to it that sent shivers running down your spine. 

He still cared about you. Of course, he did. -

“You are not responsible for protecting your parents, that is their job. You are not a bad daughter, you’re a- shit, we’re still kids. We shouldn’t have to deal with all of that, it’s not fair.” you knew he was talking more about himself now, and that made it hurt even more. You being here, the reason you were here, brought up a lot of trauma for Eddie. But he would never outright admit that.

You turned to face Eddie, moving closer to him so your knees scraped his, and leaned against the back of the couch, resting your head on your hand. “Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie fiddled with one of his rings as he listened to you speak. You had to resist the urge to lean over and hold his hand in yours. “It’s not fair. But there’s nothing we can do, so…” 

“So…here you are.” 

“Here I am.” 

There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just…quiet, and relaxing. There was something unspoken exchanged between both of you. Some mutual understanding that right now wasn’t the time to talk about everything. Even though Eddie had a million questions for you, for now, he was happy enough to have you sit next to him again. Like you had done a million times before. 

You leant back again, sinking into the couch cushion beneath you and let your eyes drift back to the TV. Eddie copied you, relaxing into the couch and resting his head against the back of it as you both sat in silence. 

After ten minutes or so you couldn’t help but steal glances at Eddie every now and then. The light from the TV lit up his face, and from this close to him you could see the light freckles that dotted across his nose and underneath his eyes. His eyes were almost honey-brown in the orange hue of the room, and you could tell he had only washed his hair a few hours ago. His curls had a soft frizz to them and you missed how they felt between your fingers. 

Your gaze moved down to where his hands were resting. You didn’t realise how much you could miss someone's touch. He always used to have one of his hands on you. Whether he was holding your hand, resting it on your leg or letting it run up and down your back as you lay next to him. 

Soon enough the film ended and Eddie stood up to sort it out; you watched him and for a second you were sure he was going to ask you to leave. 

But then he stood up from where he had been kneeling down next to the TV and sighed before saying, “Come on.” 

“What- what are we doing?” you moved to sit up on the couch but didn’t stand up just yet. 

Eddie looked around the room for a second as if he was gathering his thoughts before he lifted and dropped his shoulders in contemplation and said, “What we used to do. I’m not letting you go home tonight.” 

You hesitated for a moment, “Well I can sleep on- on the couch.” 

“If that’s what you want to do then that’s okay. But you don’t have to, you can sleep in my room. No expectations, nothing. I promise.” A subtle rosy flush coloured his cheeks whilst he spoke, and you bit back a smile at how even the mention of it had him nervous. 

“No, yeah of course, um well thank- thank you.” You stood up and followed Eddie as he made his way to his room, turning off the lights as he went. 

Before you had time to ask Eddie for clothes to sleep in he was handing you one of his t-shirts and a pair of your pyjama shorts you must have left there. “You can get changed in here, I’ll go to the bathroom.” 

“Okay, thank you Eddie.” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. With Eddie out of the room, you took a second to gather yourself. You felt your heart start to race and your hands shake, a tell-tale sign that you were getting overwhelmed. Only this time you knew it would all be okay because Eddie would be back soon. 

You changed into the clothes he had given you and you sat on top of his bed waiting for him to come back. Even though you knew you would be sleeping in his bed tonight it still felt somewhat presumptuous of you to get under the comforter already. 

You heard movement from outside his room and sure enough, Eddie walked back through his bedroom door a moment later. He had a pair of boxers on and the same t-shirt he was wearing earlier. 

You knew he always sleeps in just his boxers, but you also appreciated he probably left his t-shirt on out of respect. 

The truth was you wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t leave it on. Feeling his skin pressed against yours used to ground you when nothing else could. But you supposed things couldn’t be the same anymore. Of course, they couldn’t. 

Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neckline, you weren’t sure what had caught his attention at first, “You still wear it?” 

What- 

Oh. 

The necklace. With his ring on it. He gave it to you after he had developed a habit of slipping his rings onto yours fingers whenever he got the chance. He gave you the necklace and his favourtie ring because then there would “always be a part of him with you.” Which was exactly why you still wore it. 

“Oh um- yeah, I do. I’m sorry if that’s strange or…” 

“No. No, it’s not weird.” you saw a pained expression paint his face before he smiled and turned around, facing away from you. 

“Are you gonna get into bed or?” You could hear his signature smirk even if you couldn’t see him, his back was turned to you as he finished taking his rings off. 

“Oh- yeah, okay. ‘M sorry-“

“You need to stop saying sorry, just act normal. This can be normal, right?” Eddie walked over to his bed and threw himself down under the covers, he was all long limbs and curly hair and for a second you didn’t know why the hell you had ever left him. 

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say in response. It felt like he was giving you a chance to explain yourself. To tell him what was going on in your head. 

“Yeah this can be normal” was you all could say. Because you did want this to be normal, but you needed to know what Eddie was thinking, so as you lay down next to him and stared up at the ceiling you said, “Do you hate me?” 

“Do I- shit, why would I hate you?” you weren’t sure if the disbelief in his voice made you feel better or worse. 

“I was an asshole.”

“You broke up with me, that doesn’t make you an asshole, that makes you a person who has her own thoughts and feelings. And makes her own decisions” Eddie’s voice didn’t carry much emotion. It was flat and monotone, and you had never heard him sound like that before. 

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be… I don’t know- annoyed with me for how I did it.” 

“What? You came over, you told me you didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore and you left. What else were you meant to do? A break up’s a break-up.” you couldn’t see his face, both of your expressions shrouded in the darkness of the room. 

“I shouldn’t have… I should have explained myself to you, but I was… I wasn’t doing good, you know? And I guess-” 

“You fell out of love with me, it’s okay. It happens.” 

His words hit you like a punch to the chest and your breath got caught in his throat as you processed his words. Fallen out of love? No. No, you could never fall out of love with him. You loved him too much. You loved him so much it terrified you. A stillness took over the room, and all you could hear was the ruffling of the sheets as Eddie turned over, muttering a reluctant good night under his breath.

You didn’t want to push any boundaries he was clearly putting up between the two of you. You had hurt him and you knew he was only protecting himself. But it killed you nevertheless. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and blinked back tears. Turning over to fall asleep, in the same bed you had done so many times, except this time you weren’t curled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. 

A few hours had passed and although you were trying, you couldn’t let yourself drift off to sleep. You lay in complete silence and let your thoughts ruin any chance of you getting a peaceful night. Eddie was asleep, you thought he was anyway. Just as you had decided to get out of bed and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water, you heard movement beside you. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie. His voice was thick with sleep, deeper and rougher than it usually sounded, but a voice you were all too familiar with. 

“Yeah ‘m fine.” 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie had turned onto his back now, waiting for an answer, and when you didn’ reply he simply said, “you only say you’re fine when you’re so far from it that it scares you.” 

“I just can’t sleep, that's all.” you lay back down and hesitated for a moment before whispering, “I never fell out of love with you.” 

You felt Eddie still next to you, and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears and your cheeks heating up. 

“Oh.” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I was so scared that- that we would end up being exactly the same as everyone around us. I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t-”

“You still love me?” you could hear the pain that laced his voice as he breathed out the words. 

“Yes.” 

The words sat heavy between the two of you, the room was still dark, almost pitch black, but a lone streetlamp from outside allowed a slither of orange light to screep through the space between the blinds, allowing you to see Eddie’s face. His eyes cut to yours when he said, “Then why did you do it?” 

If your heart wasn’t already in pieces then Eddie had just made sure of it. His voice was soft, as if he was afraid of the answer. 

“Because what if we turn into our parents.” 

“Oh, sweetheart-” 

You were crying. Silent tears that fell down your face, pooled in the corner of your eyes and stained your cheeks with the reminder that you couldn’t trust yourself to love someone in fear of hurting them. Eddie didn’t cry, but that was because he had cried so much after you had ended things with him that he didn’t have the energy left to cry now; although hearing your breath hitch with every tear that fell threatened to send him over that edge with you. 

“Come here, it’s okay.” Eddie cooed, and you didn’t waste another second not being in his arms. You stretched out your arms to find his already waiting for you, pulling you into his chest and letting your head rest there, where it used to rest every night. 

You let him wrap you in his arms and you let yourself sink into him, throwing a leg over his and nuzzling your face into his chest. He whispered comforting words into the still air and you listened to him, truly believing him when he told you he loved you. 

You told him you loved him too. 

You lay like that and spoke about everything you needed to until you noticed the sun peeking in through the curtains, replacing the soft orange light of the streetlamps that had graced the room throughout the night. Eddie told you that you should both try and get some sleep, you nodded your head with the little energy you had left and let your eyes drift shut. 

You slept knowing you were back where you were always meant to be. 

By the time you woke up the room had gone dark again, and you felt a panic surge through you at just how long you must have been asleep for. Eddie was stil there, holding you. 

“What time is it?” your voice was raspy, the way it always was when you had just woken up. 

“It’s only the afternoon, you’re okay.” Eddie ran his hand over your back and pushed your hair out off your face to look at you. 

“Why is it so dark?” you aksed him, perplexed. 

“The sun got really bright, you know as the sun does,” you laughed at his words, more so you laughed at how he didn’t even realise what he said was funny. “And you started getting restless, I didn’t know if it was bothering you so I put a blanket over the window and drew the blinds again, so it would be darker.” 

He must have pulled you back against him when he got back into bed. “How did you… put a blanket… over the window?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” It scared you how sincere he could sound even when he was joking. “I’m magical what can I say.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed “you really are.” 

Eddie let out a sigh as you moved off of him, laying on your side and staring at him. Eddie mirrored your actions, moving to rest on his side so you were face to face. 

“I’m still so sorry about-” 

“What will it take to get you to stop apologizing to me?” Eddie asked you, faked annoyance in his voice. 

You smiled and your eyes flicked down to his lips. He noticed, the same way he noticed everything. “Can you kiss me?” 

“Yeah” he breathed out before he had his hand resting on your cheek and his soft lips pressing onto yours, your bottom lips between both of his. He kissed you like he had never stoped kissing you. He kissed you like it was the one thing he had been put on this earth to do. And you kissed him back like you had something to prove. But mostly you kissed as if you were kissing the life back into each other. 

The kiss stayed slow and gentle for as long as either of you could hold out for; but suddenly it all became too much and when Eddie’s tongue ran over your bottom lip you let the dam break and allowed it to consume your entire being. 

You kissed like the other could slip away at any moment. Somehow, in between desperate kisses and his tongue running over yours, Eddie had moved to rest above you, his arms caged around either side of your head, holding him up. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair and he let his lips move down to your neck, his head nustled there as he kissed over your most sensitive spot. You already knew your neck would be covered in small reminders of him by the end of this; red and purple love bites marking your neck. 

You let him kiss you and touch you and you were sure you would let him do whatever else he wanted. When his hand slipped under your pjyama shorts and you let him touch you, you knew you would have to let him do whatever he wanted later. Because right now you needed to feel him inside of you. You needed to be as close to him as the laws of the universe would grant you. 

“Eddie, fuck, please I need you to fuck me.” you had never been paticurally graceful with words, not being blessed with a way of words like Eddie was, but right now that didn’t matter because with Eddie’s lips on your neck and his hands roaming your body there wasn’t a chance in the world of you stringing together a coherent sentence, let alone sounding like Shakespeare. 

You felt Eddie‘s lips curl up into a smile against your neck before he pulled away from you, lifing his head to rest his forehead against yours. “You don’t want me to-” 

“No. No, please baby I just need you inside me” you didn’t like to beg but with the way his eyes bore into yours you knew you would beg until the end of time if you had to. Not that Eddie would let you do that. 

“Okay, okay angel. I’ve got you, gonna give you what you need, huh?” Eddie pressed a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before he pulled away from you again, pulling of his boxers whilst you desperately tried to get your shorts and panties off as quickly as you could, your shaky hands making the tast exponentially more difficult than it should have been. Eddie took over for you, pulling them down your legs and tossing them off somewhere into the darkness of the room. 

You pulled him back to you, your hand resting on the back of his neck and kissed him until you felt dizzy, and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Sweets, I need to get a condom-” Eddie spoke between deep kisses. You knew he was right, but you were on the pill and you hadn’t slep with anyone else since Eddie so… 

“No. I need to feel all of you.” you knew your words had taken Eddie by surprise, but by the way his brows knitted together and his hips rolled against yours, you knew he was just as desperate for it as you were. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie looked right at you, watching your face for any uncertainty. But when all he was met with was a breathy yes and begging eyes he let himself do what you were asking of him. 

Shared okays and a bout of almost-nervous laughter was shared between the two of you, but was suddenly and brutally ripped away from you when Eddie sank into you and you felt the world re-align on its axis. Everything making sense again. 

“Fuck, you feel so fucking perfect sweetheart. I missed you so much, you have no idea-” 

“I missed you too.” 

Eddie let himself breathe for a minute or two before he eventually started rocking his hips gently into yours. He took it slow, wanting to savour every moment he got with you. He promised himself he would remember how your lips felt against his as he swallowed your whimpers and moans. He remembered how your nails felt scratching down his back whenever he hit that sweet spot inside of you that only he could reach. When your back arched off the back he let his arm slip underneath you, pulling you close to him and fucking you through everything you were both feeling. 

Not many words were exchanged, apart from the occasional whimper of one another’s name, because you didn’t need words to express what you were feeling right now. 

Once Eddie’s hand slipped between your bodies, you were coming undone underneath him like you had done so many times before. Only this time it felt like the start of something more. Eddie buried his head in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder as he came undone only a couple of seconds after you had. Both you of you held each other through the overwhelmingness of your highs, your hands running through his hair and his hands holding onto you like you were all he needed. 

You stayed like that for who knows how long. Sharing stolen kisses and whispered promises. Time didn’t matter when you were with Eddie. Nothing mattered when you were with him, that was the beauty of everything. You were the only people who could quieten each other’s minds.

.

.

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authors note hi loves. i wrote this tonight in just under two hours with a raging headache and the occasion cry. so, if there are spelling or grammar errors i can only apologise. it is 1am and i don't have the energy to reread it and check. i hope it wasn't too bad nonetheless <3

taglist @lunarzstarz @emmalee-01 @lma1986 @eddieshoneyy @harringtonfan4 @leelei1980 @joeschains @keirasreplies @niname92 (this means i tried to tag you but i couldn't!)

tumblr please don't delete any of this thank you love you

[artandshid]

*found this in my drafts and i was prob heartbroken when I read this lmaooo*

Eddie Munson didn’t do girlfriends, he didn’t do love outside of the platonic kind for that matter. Eddie loved girls, he loved sex, but the romantic bullshit just wasn’t for him. He didn’t have the money to pay for expensive dates, he didn’t have the maturity for a real relationship, and he didn’t even have anyone to bring a significant other home to. He had no family, I mean sure he had Uncle Wayne and Wayne was a great guy. But Wayne worked a lot and he was often grumpy when he came back from work, not the friendliest guy to meet. As a matter of fact, the only person in Eddie’s life who met Wayne was Y/n.

Y/n was someone very dear to Eddie. Y/n was Eddie’s fuck buddy, the girl that maybe he loved a little more than platonically, but most of all, Y/n was Eddie’s best friend.

The whole fuck buddy thing started after a horrible hookup on her end, and Eddie was certain that he could be better than whatever scumbag she went out with that night, and he was. He would never admit how proud he was of that, though.

Eddie is slightly aware of his feelings for his best friend, he’d never tell her, but he would be lying if he said her presence doesn’t make him feel better. That the sight of her doesn’t just have him turned on, but brings him a sense of inner peace. He knows what these feelings are, but he also knows that they’re wrong. People like Eddie don’t deserve to feel those feelings, especially towards someone as great as Y/n. So he’s just letting them be for now, because he knows that she’ll find better eventually and he’s going to be okay with that, because having her as his best friend is good enough.

“Oh fuck Eddie.” Y/n moans from underneath him, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Eddie rocks above her, panting and moaning the entire time. “Fuck babe I’m close, so fucking close. Oh shit, here I come babe.” He says as his eyes squeeze shut and he fucks his orgasm into her, her climax quickly approaching.

He pulls out and rolls next to her, both of them panting. They make eye contact and smile, both of their stomachs doing flips, neither one knowing about the other.

“We did good, huh?” Eddie says jokingly and pulls a cigarette out, offering her one, which she happily takes.

Y/n laughs out loud and lightly hits his chest, “Shut up.”

“No I’m serious, that was one of our best rounds yet.”

She laughs again, but slowly goes into a trance.

Eddie lightly shakes her shoulder, “What’s wrong y/n/n?”

You look him in the eyes and Eddie gulps, “Eds, I think I’m in love with you.”

Eddie freezes, even though he’s in love with you, he also knows that your feelings aren’t real. Maybe you guys have slept with each other too many times that you’re just getting confused. But you can’t love him and you can’t be in love with him. You’re far too good for him.

“Eddie please say something. Please tell me you feel the same way.”She now has tears in her eyes knowing that she’s going to lose him.

“Y/n, baby, you know I can’t. I’m sorry, but you’ve known me for how long, I’m not a relationship guy.” He says and he shrugs you off.

You look at him incredulously. To not reciprocate feelings is one thing, but to completely blow you off by saying ‘i’m not a relationship” guy after all of your history together, is what makes you mad. And the tone he said it in, too, like an arrogant prick.

“So that’s that? You can’t say anything else.” She says with tears now streaming down her face.

Eddie is feeling a lot of things right now and that’s never good. When he feels too much he gets overwhelmed and deals with it by being angry. He’s never been angry at her before, though, but seeing her cry, mixed with her “confession” and he’s still dealing with his feelings for her, Eddie is feeling more than overwhelmed.

“What else do you want me to fucking say? You’ve known me for how many fucking years? Never once have I done relationships, and you’re no fucking different. What did you think just because we have a bit of history it would make any difference.” He yells at her, taking another puff of his cigarette trying to calm his nerves.

“‘A bit of history’ is that what your chalking up our years of friendship to now? You never act like this with me, and I try to be honest with you and you just lash out on me? I’m your best friend, not some asshole at school, try treating me with a little respect.” She says, finally putting her clothes back on while he stay naked under the covers. Even with the clothes covering her, she’s never felt more exposed in her life.

“Respect?!” Eddie laughs out loud. “I just had you a moaning mess underneath me and you’re demanding respect?” He instantly regrets saying this at the pain on her face, but again, he won’t let her see that.

“You are such a selfish dick, I’m leaving.” She says and starts walking out with tears and mascara streaking her face.

“I may be selfish, but at least I didn’t sleep with my best friend and catch feelings, ruining years of friendship!” He yelled back even though she’s already almost out the front door. Now he’s not only selfish, but a selfish liar.

[nburkhardt]

Mainly for my love, @strangersteddierthings ily

An overly sappy and fluffy follow up to this angst piece

“-Christ, I’m coming!”

It’s- Jesus Christ, only eight in the morning on a goddamn Saturday and someone decided to call him now? He roughly picks the phone up, “whoever the fuck this is, you better have a goddamn good reason to be calling!”

“Well, I’m sorry. It’s even earlier for me, nerd” Robin’s voice comes through, and now he’s confused.

If anyone should still be asleep, it should be her. Since she’s ya know, in California, in a different timezone. It’s- “why the fuck are you awake at five? Aren’t you on vacation?”

He can hear the eye roll Robin does, but it’s only fair. She woke him up, she gets to deal with a little bit of bitchy Eddie.

“I am, doesn’t matter. What are your plans again for Christmas?”

Tilting his head, squinting his eyes, he blinks hard before rubbing a hand down his face. “Buckley. You did not fucking just ask me what my plans are. The hell? You’re not even here! Why?”

Robin groans, obnoxious and long. Then a huff, and after that he hears tapping and he can imagine she’s bumping the phone against her head and straighten up with a glare on her face. He gets the look a lot from her to see it clearly.

“Edward Munson. I need to know what your Christmas plans are for very good reasons. Actually, what are you doing for that whole weekend? I need a favor and you’re going to do it, because it’s very very important. So important that if you do not do this and I find out, you will be a dead man and wish the demobats were after you.” She takes a deep breath, “do you understand?”

It must be, if she’s bringing up violence this early.

“Okay, geez I’ll bite. My plans for Christmas is just hanging around with Wayne, we usually just hang around watching Christmas movies and eat together. I got nothing planned the weekend, all of ya and my band are busy with family and shit.” He leaned against the fridge, closing his eyes and hoping whatever Robin is thinking doesn’t involve much.

“You need to kidnap Steve.”

He opened his eyes quick to widen them, straightening up and looking around for his keys. “Can I keep him then?”

Robin groans and he smiles, “if I’m kidnapping Stevie, I get to keep him. Finders keepers, Buck!”

“If you can only promise to love him and care for him.”

“Always, Robin. My Honeylove deserves it and so much more, he doesn’t even know how much,” he sighs, “I’ve agreed, now can you explain why?”

He’s met with silence and he looks at the phone wondering weather it’s not working or Robin hung up; already satisfied with him agreeing. Which would be fucking rude of her.

As he brings the phone back, he hears her sigh and- “i know my platonic soulmate and he doesn’t think I’ve noticed him being withdrawn or sad. He’s determined to make me go grey by suffering in silence, and he doesn’t believe how much I care or how much you care. So, he’s alone, like right now.” She sniffles and he can imagine she’s gripping her hair while also leaning up against whatever wall or surface, “SO, I would appreciate you for the rest of my life, if you help me and make him very, so very happy. Please.”

Taking a step out of his van, Eddie shifts his weight as he looks at the single flower he managed to pluck from his neighbors bush, it’s probably cheesy and maybe a little much but he couldn’t help himself.

Picking it up, he quickly slams his door before marching his way to Steve’s front door and stands straight. Taking a breath before moving his arm behind his back, knocking on the door with the other.

It’s been a few days since Robin’s call and his plan couldn’t take any shape until this morning. Wayne had noticed he was off the rest of that day and a complete word-for-word retelling happened and he ended with Wayne telling him, “Jesus kid, ya didn’t need to ask. That boy of yours is welcomed here”

And that was that.

He holds his fist up again as the door swings open and he’s met with an adorable sight, Steve wearing his glasses a little askew and his favorite yellow sweater along with some plaid sweats.

“Eddie?”

Smiling, Eddie pulls the flower out and brings it in front of their faces. Twirling the flower around before lightly bumping it on Steve’s nose, “My dear, Stevie Honeylove Harrington, I am here on this lovely December twenty third to officially kidnap you.” He watched as Steve pulls the door open more looking even more confused, it makes him smile at him.

“Eds, what the hell? Please don’t tell me you’re high right now?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie shakes his head. “I am very sober, and come on, get things together. You’re coming home with me”

They move into the kitchen and Steve looked at him before shaking his head.

“Can my kidnapper explain one more time, because he deserves to know why he’s being kidnapped- two days before Christmas” Steve asks and grabs the flower from him, putting it in a cup before leaning up against the counter to look at him.

He doesn’t bother sitting anywhere, instead comes right up to Steve and tapping his temple. “Because, my heart, you selfless dummy. You will be spending the rest of this holiday, with me and Wayne.”

Steve’s eyes widen, before darting around to avoid looking at him. It pulls a frown on Eddie’s face and he steps back just a bit, just to let Steve avoid his gaze more. He knows when it’s necessary to give more space, especially this lovely boy.

“I don’t want to impose on you both, I’m fine here. My parents called and said they’ll be her-”

“Nuh uh. Nope, I will not accept that. Even if they were coming, I’d still be kidnapping you, sweet boy.” He interrupts, crossing his arms and glances around the room before settling his eyes back on the important thing, Steve.

Steve who is still looking anywhere but at him, his own arms crossed but looking much more like he’s hugging himself, his fingers drumming along his arm.

“Sweetheart, Steve, I would truly and utterly love if you come along with me to your first official Munson Christmas.”

A smile pulling at his lips, as the words process in Steve’s head. A light blush is slowly creeping up. It makes his own cheeks start to burn, his own blush coming up from seeing Steve looking soft and confused.

Eddie moves closer to him again, arms no longer crossed and instead coming up around Steve. Enjoying how he instantly shifts to wrap his arms around Eddie, it makes his heart happy.

“Yeah okay, Teddy. I’ll go”

It’s the smell of bacon that makes him stir and the light sound of Christmas music playing.

Steve blinks a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, his vision getting as clear as they can without his glasses. Along with that his other senses also kicks up and he can feel the weight of an arm around his waist and legs tangled with his.

He shifts just enough to see Eddie behind him, face still relaxed as he lightly snores. Clearly still asleep. It’s only then that he relaxes back down and looking away with a blush and tiny smile.

For once happy to wake up on Christmas morning in years.

“Merry Christmas, Love” Eddie’s arm tightens around his waist as he spoke, pulling him closer.

His face completely breaking out into a smile now. “Yeah?”

Eddie hums and squeezes his waist again, “yeah course, it’s Christmas”

Steve shakes his head, “no, well, yeah it’s Christmas but um, the love thing.” He squeezes his eyes shut and mentally counts to five before turning around to face Eddie, “are you serious? Because I’m, um, starting to think that you’re-”

There’s a smile tugging on Eddie’s lips and he moves his arms to settle back snug around Steve, “In love with you? Yeah, Honeylove. I am, I love you Steve and I would be the happiest man alive if you let me keep you”

Steve’s eyes are watering as he nods and breaks into a breathless laugh, the words bouncing around in his head over and over.

“Yeah, yeah. Please. I love you too”

It brings a bright smile to Eddie’s face that Steve matches, Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and promises that they’ll share their first kiss once they lose the morning breath and Steve holds him to it.

They’ll get up, brush their teeth and share a soft kiss before walking out to see Wayne busy finishing off some pancakes. They’ll wish him a merry Christmas, enjoy their breakfast together before settling in the living room to watch Christmas movies and unwrap the presents under the tree.

There’s not much; only a few gifts for each of them.

Steve doesn’t even pay much attention to his, he’s really truly happy because his favorite present is currently sitting on the floor in a Santa hat obnoxiously shaking a gift next to his head with a big smile on his face.

It’s the best Christmas he’s had in a long time.

One of my all time favorite tropes is “they’re not dating” and guess what, they weren’t dating at all in this until Christmas 🥰 Eddie was very obviously in love with Steve from the start though, Steve was just a little slow on catching the very point-blank flirting :D

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this sappy piece and it made up for the angst I put you through in the first part. ☺️

Those who also asked/commented: @goodolefashionedloverboi @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @vampirestevie @steviesummer

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[stevebabey]

Eddie loves to complain.

It’s a known fact to Eddie, to Wayne, to every single sorry son-of-a-bitch who winds up being friends with him, that Eddie loves to complain. Half the time he opens his mouth, it’s to let an absurd about of bitching fall out of it. Trailer trash with a trash mouth, is what he calls himself sometimes, always with a wry grin.

Even more so, Eddie loves to complain about how Steve Harrington seems to get everything he wants in life.

He gets the big house at the end of the block, the spot of captain of the basketball team (not that that’s a position Eddie would ever gun for), the stupid title of ‘King Steve’ that let him soar through high school, untouched.

Missing homework? Well, King Steve Harrington just gets a gentle reprimand, a reminder to make homework a priority next time. Whereas, Mr. McKay had nearly popped his eyeball out in stress when chewing Eddie out for his missing homework in the very same week.

Double fucking standards. He’s pretty sure he’s seen Steve get free shakes down at Harper’s Diner which made Eddie scoff— as if the likes of Steve Harrington can’t pay for his own shakes.

So, yeah, to Eddie? Steve Harrington gets everything he wants.

It becomes so much of a habit — bitching and blaming King Steve for every other minuscule inconvenience as well — that even when Eddie has the week from hell and his entire worldview is shifted, quite literally, upside down, he still complains about Steve.

Because, damn it, even at all this, Steve is better than Eddie is.

Ignoring the fact it’s definitely not Steve’s first rodeo, Eddie can’t help but keep the bite in his tone. It feels a bit too humiliating, being kept bed-ridden in Steve’s empty mansion due to wounds that need tending to every day. Hidden from angry mobs because he’s that unlikable in this town.

Worse, is that even though Steve got a bite taken out of him too, he seems just fucking peachy compared to Eddie.

Pathetic Eddie who can’t even change his own bandages yet. Steve’s more gentle than Eddie probably deserves for all his bitching at him.

Because, of course he bitches. Eddie can’t help it; some defence mechanism from within that isn’t sure how to handle the fact Steve is, like actually genuinely, a decent person. It’s worse when Steve waves it off. Shrugs off his pointy comments, might make a comment about being ‘someone’s grouchy and tired’ but is still so fucking nice.

Until the one day he doesn’t shrug off the comment— this time when Eddie makes a complaint, whinging and grumbling about can’t believe I’m stuck with Steve Harrington playing nurse, Steve narrows his eyes. Then he sighs.

“What’s your problem with me, man?” Steve asks, not unkind, just probing. He’s still winding one of the bandages around Eddie’s torso, the latter propped against the bathroom sink.

Fuck, this bathrooms massive. It’s bigger than Eddie’s entire room at the trailer. He hates it for that. He hates that he’s had more gentle touches in this bathroom in the weeks living here, with Steve, than he had in his whole 20 years since— well, since his mama died really. He tries not to think about that much.

Eddie really glad he asked; he thinks he’s had this whole speech prepped since sophomore year and Steve’s stupidly fluffy hair and smarmy grin walked through Hawkins High’s front doors. Charmed his way to top of the school with his stupid perfect life.

But, well, not all of that is true anymore. Eddie knows there’s quite a few holes in his original fantasised idea of what the perfect life of Steve Harrington looks like. Doesn’t matter, Eddie’s still got a bone to pick. He’s stubborn that way.

“What’s my problem? Did you meet yourself in high school?”

Steve winces a bit at that, his eyes ducking away but his hands keep moving, winding the gauze slowly and carefully. He doesn’t say anything, thinking, but Eddie rolls on regardless.

“Dude, you get— you have everything. You have the house, the popularity- shit, half the population of the school had the hots for you.” He doesn’t mention that he was at one point part of that population. Might still be if Steve keeps being so nice to him. Damn, he’s easy.

His tone as he talks tells a completely different story though, all annoyed and dramatic. “I once saw Miss O’Donnell wave off a failed test just cos. Just cos you were you! That’s the same fucking test that failed me the first time round.”

Eddie waves his hand around, on a roll now; he’s had plenty of practice with bitching about the likes of how Steve Harrington has it all.

“I know all this shit is, well, not fuckin’ ideal but even then! It’s like, of course, you’ll roll out of this with some badass scars that the chicks will dig.”

Steve is still listening intently, Eddie can tell because his eyes flick up to meet his every couple of seconds. His hands keep working.

Eddie huffs and winces at the pain that radiates up and down his side. “If you had these scars,” he gestures up and down. His side is undeniably worse than Steve’s own, they both know. “It would just be badass. Survivor shit, yanno? On me, it’s just, like, shitty mutilation.”

The sentence hangs in the air and Eddie feels his embarrassment creep up by how quickly that turned into a pity-fest, which absolutely not the point. The point is that Steve gets it all and Eddie gets nothing — and that’s how it’s always been.

Steve says quiet for a bit thinking as he ties off the end of Eddie’s bandage. He has to pull it tight and Eddie winces again, another flush on pain. Even if it’s not as embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, Steve taking care of these wounds for him, Eddie still hates it.

“So, that’s your problem with me? You think I get everything I want?” Steve asks plainly, pulling his hands back and folding them across his chest. Eddie hates how handsome he looks doing it. Then hates himself for noticing it.

“In a manner of words, yes.”

Steve uncrosses his arms and suddenly leans forward, planting his hands on either side of Eddie’s hips on the bathroom counter. He leans into his space and Eddie has to force himself not to pull back instinctively. Steve’s face is very close to his.

“And... if I want you?” Steve asks, voice dipping quieter in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach tighten. He represses a shudder and only after, do the words dawn on him; there’s no hiding the way he gets a little wide-eyed and fuck, he just looked at Steve’s lips. Wait, what? Eddie’s heart is thudding like a trapped rabbit’s, wild and quick.

Steve’s stare is intense, eyes a little darker than usual. He looks at Eddie and just for a moment, his gaze drops to his lips. Steve licks his own, his knuckles on the counter growing whiter as he grips it tighter and steels his nerve.

“Do I still get everything I want?”

[allysunny]

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

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Part 3 to the fwb series.

You leave Eddie feeling a little blue after your last encounter... In more ways than one. Wayne visits and Eddie finds out distressing news...

18+ only. Minors shoo!

Angst ahead 🖤

Eddie had spent the weekend after your visit unbelievably cranky, horny and on edge. His argument with Chrissy had resulted in her storming out. "I'm not coming back this time Eddie, I mean it" she warned him.

Was it bad that he was really struggling to care? All Eddie could think of quite frankly, was you. After you left there was a sick feeling in his gut, some weird ache in his chest that he hadn't felt before.

Whatever it was he didn't like it. Not one fucking bit. Even strumming along on his guitar was no comfort and that always helped when he was feeling out of sorts.

He jolts out of his by a knock on the door, it'd probably Chrissy he sighs and signals for her to come in, dreading the argument that's sure to follow.

Turns out that it isn't Chrissy, it's his Uncle Wayne who's holding a casserole dish full of macaroni cheese and sets it on the table.

Eddie greets his uncle with a wave, his uncle merely nods then promptly cuffs him around the head, Eddie yelps and his eyes widen.

"What the fuck old man?" Wayne glares at him, he looks disappointed and Eddie hasn't seen that look in a long time. It makes him feel like he's a kid again, or an unruly teenager.

"Sorry boy, you know I love you but you deserved that. Had a long chat with that lovely girl who's dating Joanthan, Nancy Wheeler'' Wayne pauses to glance at Eddie and make sure he's listening.

'Now you wanna tell me why you're stringing along some poor girl, hurt her real bad Nancy said" Eddie grows flustered, runs his hands through his hair and wilts under Wayne's stern gaze.

"It was just a friends with benefits type thing, I made that clear Uncle Wayne" his uncle cocks an eyebrow and settles at the rickety old table, that Eddie has been meaning to fix for a while.

"Right, and you never gave her false hope I take it?" Eddie opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and shuts up. ''That's what I thought boy" his uncle shakes his head.

"She left. We aren't together anymore" he tries to explain, doesn't dare mention what happened a few days ago. Wayne begins to dish out the macaroni cheese and two beers, sets the meal and the drinks down on the table.

"That's not the point son, the point is I raised you better than to be such an asshole to a lady. Same goes for Chrissy, that shit ain't working Eddie so you need to do the right thing"

Eddie slumps down on the chair and nods feeling suitably chastised. Begins to shove forkfuls of his Uncle's delicious mac and cheese in his mouth but his Uncle's next words stop him in his tracks.

"Suppose you'll be happy to know that you won't be bothered by that ex anymore. Yn is it? Heard she's on a date with some hot shot tonight" Wayne shrugs and looks to Eddie, who's mouth has went suddenly dry.

"She's on a date?" he asks just to make sure he's heard right, Uncle Wayne nods and he suddenly doesn't feel hungry anymore.

"It's not to late to fix things son" Wayne claps him on the shoulder, gives his a sympathetic look. Suddenly, the knee jerk reaction to saying to himself that he doesn't care isn't working so much anymore.

...

He doesn't know why he drives to your house, he's sure he's just being a fucking martyr... Or an idiot.

Still it doesn't take long before he's knocking on your door, shielding himself from the wind and rain.

You answer and don't look happy to see him, his heart sinks and he's beginning to realise how badly he's fucked up.

"Wayne said you had a date" he says to you and you nod, don't give anything else away.

"Why are you here Munson?" Munson not Eddie, he doesn't know what to say, he's scrambling for something, anything to think of.

"I messed up, I'm sorry sweetheart" you pause, clearly you weren't expecting Eddie to outright apologise, show up at your door.

"Apology accepted, but it's too late Eddie. You hurt me so many times, dangled hope in front of me that we could be more, then you swept it away. You didn't care when I left so why should I care that you're here now"

He growls frustrated, wants you to so desperately understand that he's sorry, that he knows he fucked up.

"I'm sorry okay? I don't want to lose you alright. I admit that now" he watches as tears pool in your eyes, you immediately chase them away and steel yourself.

"You already have lost me Eddie" your voice shakes but it doesn't stop you from closing the door on Eddie's face.

[slavicviking]

Long Jump, Huge Leap

wc: 5k | Pre-Season 3 steddie

[Ao3]

Whoever said Eddie Munson doesn’t like sports is wrong.

One can dislike a candy bar, a type of soda, a likewise mundane thing that comes down to preferences. No, no. What Eddie Munson feels towards sports cannot be condensed into such a simple term. His body itself outright refuses to take part in any sport activity – sweat immediately pooling at his pits and back and ass, legs acting disjointed, arms too long and too weak to do anything of significance, except for maybe making a fool of himself. With that particular element of his P.E. experience helps his mouth which, funnily enough, is the only part of Eddie that runs quicker than anyone, especially its owner, can catch up. Not that the rest of his group feels exceptionally impressed with the skill presented.

Hawkins High doesn’t need a furry mascot for laugh-inducing entertainment when it has Eddie Munson.

“Munson, you’re in Hagan’s team.”

“Oh, for fuck’s-“

“Do not fret, little ol’ Thomas, I sincerely vouch to not dare touch the balls you play with-“

And as the usual song and dance goes, the ball is thrust directly into his stomach.

Several bruises left on his body and ego later Eddie decides it’s simply not worth it, he skips P.E. entirely – avoids it as if it were the ninth circle of Hell. It may as well be, he thinks. Uncle Wayne seems persistent to convince Eddie to try again but after a long and, frankly tiring, conversation the subject is dropped.

Until now.

Eddie stretches out his legs in front of him, the uncomfortable plastic chair digging into his spine and reshaping his already barely-there ass into a flat tire. It’s psychological warfare, it must be, because how else can one explain furniture that defies its primary function so well. Principal Higgins knew well what she did when she chose them to be placed in front of her office. Her own personal little torture chamber.

“The Principal is ready to see you now, Mr. Munson,” the secretary, a pretty blonde in her twenties, tries to smile at him but all that comes out as a result is a grimace stretched thin over her face. It dims further when Eddie stands up making the most noise he possibly could have with the chair sliding across the parquet.

“Sorry,” he says because he is actually sorry. For all his bold persona and jumping on tables, he hates the idea of bothering someone who absolutely does not deserve it. The secretary is nice, he can say that with confidence he’s gained over sitting in that damned red plastic chair too many times to bother counting. He also knows he can be a lot when seated in it – constantly twitching and shifting, mind all too self-aware of the pre-attached uncoordinated body.

Principal Higgins doesn’t look pleased to see him but when does she ever? Eddie personally believes they see each other often enough to be on first-name basis, or at least have this unspoken camaraderie between each other. He thinks the name Margaret would fit her. Tiffany? The only obstacle of their everlasting friendship he can think of is the boundless hatred she has for him. And he has for her.

“Mr. Munson, I’m glad you could join us,” she says, voice syrupy-sweet, so much so it clogs Eddie’s ears for a moment. She has a maroon sweater on today and Eddie thinks it complements the stark bags under her eyes very well. A white blouse ironed to the bone peeks out from underneath it, sleeves rolled up. It’s then that he notices Coach Collins sitting in the chair usually reserved for the culprit’s legal guardian. This is not a usual part of their – Higgins’ and Eddie’s – routine and so it throws him out of the loop a little.

“Please sit,” Higgins points to the only empty seat in her office. Eddie is glad, for what’s it worth, that the chairs here are leagues better than whatever monstrosity his ass still feels the imprint of awaits in the waiting room.

“It wasn’t me,” Eddie says what he always does as he sits down. The Principal doesn’t look any more or less impressed with the line than usual, only letting out a silent sigh.

“Mr. Munson, your attendance ratio in Mr. Collins’ class is abhorrent.”

 Ah. Rough and straight to the point, just the way he likes it.

“I might have missed… a couple of days,” Eddie admits, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. His eyes roam the intricate designs on the carpet. Surprisingly enough they look exactly the same as the last time he’s seen them.

“More like a whole semester, son,” Coach finally decides to take part in this excruciating exchange.

“Normally that amount of missed classes is enough to fail the grade but Mr. Collins was considerate enough to offer you a deal,” Higgins pointedly stares Eddie down as if wanting to force him to slide down to his knees and thank the Coach for the opportunity. As if ‘Mr. Collins’ didn’t turn his head at all the harassment Eddie has faced in his class to begin with.

“Uh-huh.”

“Sport’s Day is coming up. We’d like you to join us this year, Mr. Munson,” she adds, implying she very much would not like him to be there at all but some predestined script requires it. “I believe some teamwork could do you good.”

Yes. Because being stuck with the school’s entire jock population on the football field is somehow better than ten or so of them in a P.E. class. He’s going to die, for sure .

The thing is, he knows they are giving him an excellent out. Sport’s Day is sort-of mandatory, though he’s only attended it once himself. It’s a big event for the school that, in theory, is a great opportunity to let a bit loose and get to know each other. Except, as it often is, a certain part of the Hawkins High population deems themselves as better than others and what should be all fun and games turns puckingly nerve-wracking if you dare to not be pristinely perfect and screw up. Eddie had one attempt in 1982 and hasn’t stick in a foot or arm onto school grounds that day ever since.

“Right,” he says in the end, voice a little strangled. They both clearly take it as him agreeing and, well, he doesn’t really have a choice, does he? Unless he wants to repeat Senior Year again.

He doesn’t.

He really, really doesn’t.

So one full day of excruciating pain it is.

-&-

It’s hot as fucking balls.

The event hasn’t started yet but Eddie can already feel the sweat pooling all over his body. Students stand in small groups all around the yard and it takes him a long while before he spots the Corroded Coffin.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Eddie Munson?”

“Yeah, yeah, yack it up,” he rolls his eyes at Jeff, eyes scanning the area for a semi-hidden smoking spot and finding none. It’s too risky, anyway. He lifts the hem of his shirt to fan himself. “Not like I had a choice.”

They all know about the quote unquote ‘olive branch’ handed out to him by the school but he can feel they’re surprised he decided to follow through with the spectacle anyway.

A long queue forms in the middle of the court, Coach Collins and Jenkins right at the top of it all along with Principle Higgins, each with a jar filled with differently colored strips of material in their hands. Even with no say in the matter, Eddie feels his hand sweating the closer he gets to the harbinger of his doom. Soon enough he will know who is going to make his life hell the next ten or so hours.

“Team yellow,” Collins tells him and gives him the appropriately colored ribbon. Eddie does a apathetic ‘woohoo’ with it before sliding off the side where his new team members reside. He ties the material loosely around his neck because he lives to disrupt the norm. Because fuck Collins.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to go there, dude,” Hawkins’ personal eye-candy, Steve Harrington, tells him upon arrival. Even in this horrid damp weather he keeps smiling for some unknown reason, no strand of hair out of place. He has his basketball uniform on – a simple gray shirt and, oh God, tiny shorts that expose those legs- Eddie snaps his head up so fast he’s surprised it hasn’t cracked and rolled off yet. Perhaps that would be the more merciful solution. A yellow ribbon is residing around Harrington’s sun-kissed bicep.

Great.

“Yeah, well, I’m not a great fan of rules,” he bites, hoping Harrington will just leave him be.

“I know. It’s your whole shtick.” So. That’s a no. Harrington shrugs.

“But sometimes rules are there for a reason,” he says and hooks his finger under the ribbon around Eddie’s neck to tug at it lightly. “To, like, not die.”

However eloquently phrased, Eddie begrudgingly admits – to himself, in his head, never out loud – that there might be a good point hidden somewhere underneath all that hair spray. He wonders if it were Hagan in Harrington’s place would there be a more hands-on approach to this warning. With Eddie being left strangled.

Quite possibly.

He’s not going to test that theory.

“Whatever his majesty wants,” Eddie says as he dutifully unties the yellow ribbon from his neck. And because he never knows when to shut up, he adds, “You don’t have to pretend to be nice, dude. I know me being in your team, like, disrupts your mojo, or whatever.”

Harrington is noticeably not smiling anymore. He doesn’t cross his arms though it looks like he really wants to. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows. It should not be attractive but, alas, Eddie is but a weak man.

“It’s supposed to be fun, man.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Eddie ends up mumbling, feeling out of energy all of a sudden. The queue of students doesn’t seem to be getting any shorter, not that it matters much because all his friends have been scattered throughout all the other teams. He moves to sit on the grass at the edge of their little Yellow group, legs spread out in front of him. The grass is dry under his palms as he leans back, and he wishes he could light an inconspicuous smoke. Even more so when a body slams into him.

“Jesus Christ, what the f-“

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” a girl yelps. “I was trying to tie my shoe but I have, like, no coordination so I kind of fell over you? I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry. Balancing on one leg is so much harder than it looks. Like, honestly, how do cheerleaders even do that thing where they-“

“Whoa, hey, it’s fine,” Eddie jumps in before the girl – Robin Buckley, turns out – faints from lack of air. A yellow ribbon hangs limply off her wrist. Maybe it makes him a bad person but there is a sense of relief knowing he will not be the only ‘uncoordinated’ one on the team. Harrington is going to have an aneurysm for sure.

Robin blinks down at him, lips pulling down in a frown. “Oh, it’s you.”

Okay? Mean.

“Yes?” Whatever imaginary comradery Eddie hoped for seems off the table all of a sudden. Well, that’s a bummer. “Why the long face? Not happy to see a fellow nerd on the team?”

“You stepped on my sandwich last week.”

Ah. Well. That would do it, he supposes. The lunch break speeches… they sometimes get a little intense. Eddie gets a little intense, is what the rest of the Hellfire Club would probably say. Eddie’s shoes have been known to slam face – sole? – first into the best of what the Hawkins High cafeteria had to offer; which is not saying much, to be completely honest.

“My humble apologies,” he tries a little bow and hopes it comes off sincere. Buckley looks less than convinced. Tough crowd, what can he say?

“Alrighty, I think that’s all of us,” Harrington’s overly cheery voice thunders somewhere from above him and Eddie, like a moth drawn to a flame, has no other option but to look up. With his hands power-posed strategically onto his sinfully slim waist and the sun positioned perfectly behind him, Steve Harrington seems to have taken it upon himself to alter Eddie’s brain chemistry, braincells leaving left and right, leaking right through his ears, never to be seen again.

“You’re drooling,” Robin’s monotone informs him from his right and he promptly slams his mouth shut, even though he knows the claim is wildly exaggerated. Buckley may be the best or the worst person he’s ever met – he desperately needs to befriend her.

“First up is the relay-race. We need four people. Anyone up?”

Harrington is met with painful silence and that does dim the cheery smile a little bit. Eddie wonders if that is where the famous King Steve comes out of the hiding, all scary sharp teeth and disregard of basic human decency. He himself stills, for once not wanting to draw any attention to himself, feeling like a student who doesn’t know the correct answer which, not to brag, if you asked Higgins or any other teacher in Hawkins High, is something Eddie excels in. Curiosity, though, is a fickle thing and he’s fallen victim to it more times than he can count, and so when the uncomfortable silence drowns on, Eddie can’t help but take a look around to meet the Team Yellow, so to speak.

Fred Benson peers at him from his thick glasses. A group of scared freshman cower together. There’s a couple of band kids other than Robin Buckley who forgone glaring at the back of Eddie’s head in order to chew on her lip nervously and stare at the ground. Not a jock in sight.

Steve Harrington couldn’t have landed a worse team if he tried. Surprisingly he doesn’t look like he’s about to piss himself over it. Huh.

“Alright, well. I volunteer myself then,” he raises his hand. “That leaves three. Hm? Come on, it’s gonna be fun!”

Eddie can’t help it. He snorts. It’s loud and ugly.

“Well, I guess we have another volunteer,” Harrington preens and Eddie has to see who is idiotic enough to- It’s him, isn’t it? Harrington pulled out the classic teacher move and Eddie fell right into the trap.

“You do not want that, Harrington,” he tells him, trying his best not to show how much the intense eye contact from the jock affects him. It does not. It affects him even less when Steve juts out his bottom lip and tilts his head to the side like a goddamn Golden Retriever.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to lose?”

“It’s not about winning, it’s about teamwork,” Harrington trudges on stubbornly, sounding eerily sincere even while basically quoting every fake-cheery pamphlet in existence. It doesn’t matter how much Eddie tries to convince him it’s a bad idea – a terrible, awful, horrible idea – he doesn’t budge an inch like the stubborn asshole that he is.

“I’ll go last,” he informs Eddie and the other two unfortunate ‘volunteers’ once they reach the track.

“Hey, Harrington,” cuts a familiar voice and there’s Hagan suddenly all up Harrington’s business. “Ready to lose?”

To his credit, all Steve does is raise one eyebrow. “Did Hargrove tell you to come here, or what?”

Eddie appreciates balls on a man, literally and metaphorically, so this cheery but assertive combo is doing things to him that he is not proud of. There is a reason he avoided Steve Harrington for most of high school, and it wasn’t only because of the King Steve jock persona. Eddie may not have a good taste in men but he does have eyes.

“Whatever, man,” Hagan finishes off their little pissing contest in the meantime, strutting right back to Billy, both arms adored by blue ribbons. Harrington’s nostrils flare with each breath before he closes his eyes for a second.  

Eddie isn’t known to make wise choices. One would argue bad decisions run in his blood, screwing things up his very own a generational pattern.

“Uh, you okay, man?”

Harrington’s eyes snap open. Eddie should have never opened his mouth. With Harrington’s intense eyes on him, he feels like Icarus, flying too close to the sun. Steve smiles. Eddie is going to crush and burn any minute now.

“Yeah, sorry,” he keeps his voice light but there’s underlying tension that hasn’t been there before. His eyes appear almost glazed over when he looks over to Billy Hargrove. Eddie’s gut-instinct wants to pin the strange interaction on some jock-code that he is simply not familiar with but that’s not all there is to it. Eddie has fallen victim to the rumor mill many a time during his prolonged high school career and so he tries not to lean into them too much, even when the juicy news of a fight between the former and new king of Hawkins High broke out. One look at Harrington now and he knows, deep down, the impressive shiner on Steve’s face last fall has truthfully been Hargrove’s doing.

Doesn’t matter, really, because Harrington, emanating a true father-at-vacation energy, claps his hands together with too much enthusiasm. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

Getting the show on the road, so to speak, is Abby, a freshman, who does not at all look very confident. Eddie cannot, for a fact, tell if the time passes too fast or too slow as the whistle toots and Abby is on the go, then Nigel, and then-

Eddie leans forward, bends his knees. Suddenly there’s a weight in his hand. Someone is screaming for him to ‘ go, go, go’ !

And Eddie does what he does best. He runs.

By the halfway point, his lungs are on fire, his legs feel like jello. His hair flies out of his bun and he can barely see but, he muses, he might as well try and actually finish something for once. And it’s not because Steve Harrington happens to be waiting on the other side. But maybe that’s a bonus. Who can tell?

The second his hand touches Harrington’s and passes on the stick, his legs give out from underneath him and he falls on his ass with a deeply unsatisfying thunk .

“Nice job, Munson,” says a blurry hand with a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he says, or tries to, though it comes out slurred. A big swing of water helps.

“You okay?” Robin leans over him before taking a whiff of L’eau d’Eddie and promptly taking an out.

“Aw, I knew you cared, Buckley.”

“I just don’t want you to hurl all over my shoes,” she simply says.

Somehow they are not last. Eddie doesn’t know whether he helped at all or is it simply the power of Steve Harrington’s godlike legs that did all the heavy-lifting, but they finish off in second place, right after Hagan.

Eddie would never admit it out loud, not under threats of death, but it was…kind of fun. Satisfying.

“Eddie, you were amazing!” Harrington runs up to him, sweat pooling over his forehead and neck and Eddie has to stop himself from offering to lick it off.

“Hu-?”

“You never mentioned you’re this fast!”

“Because I’m not? Have you hit your head on the way here, or-?”

Something weird happens with Harrington’s face for a split second but it’s so quick Eddie doesn’t have the time to properly analyze it before he’s smiling again.  

“Not this time, no,” he forces a chuckle. “But you had fun, right?”

Eddie sighs, flops down on the ground to make it extra dramatic. Eyes closed, he reaches out with his hand to make a tiny gap between his index finger and thumb. “Maybe a little.”

A small laugh rings above him, this time genuine, and he hates how he can feel a lazy grin tug at his lips.

Eddie misses at least one round while he lays on the grass. It’s a blissful fifteen-thirty-forty minutes and he revels in it with every whiff of a colder breeze but by minute forty-two the ground doesn’t seem nearly as comfortable as it used to right after the race. The sun assaults his eyes the moment he opens them and he swiftly sits up, trying to shake off loose twigs and dry grass that have gotten entangled with his hair.

Team Yellow has seen better days. While Eddie lounged in the grass they have become a mass of sweat and red heat-swollen cheeks. Whatever disciplines he’s missed, he is glad he has. They are not last on the leaderboard, though – by what miracle, he cannot figure out.

“Eddie!” Steve Harrington, of course, has been spared the same treatment as his team. Hair slightly whipped by the wind and rosy cheeks, he looks as though he just about stepped out of a salon. A tattered yellow-white-blue volleyball sits against his hip. “Just the guy I was looking for. You willing to give it a try?”

Eddie is not.

Not under any normal-adjacent circumstances anyway but Harrington is, consciously or not, giving him his best rendition of puppy eyes. That and Eddie can feel a heated gaze located on the back of his head coming coach’s way. No matter how tempting, he cannot afford to screw this up.

So, in the driest monotone he can muster, Eddie says, “Been waitin’ for that my whole life.”

“Cool,” is all Harrington says before his achingly warm fingers wrap themselves around Eddie’s wrist and tug him towards the court. Buckley is already standing by the net, sending Eddie a miniscule smile of encouragement when he settles on her left, Harrington just behind him.

“Was worried you were a goner by now,” Gareth calls from the other side of the net, a green ribbon tied to his wrist.

“Nah, you know me, Gare-bear,” he flexes his non-existent biceps. “I'm prime material for the next super athlete.”

Someone – Harrington – chokes and coughs behind him. Eddie refuses to look, contribute to the hot and sticky flush of embarrassment that settles over his organs like slime. He has a reputation to uphold, though, so when Gareth raises his eyebrow, silently asking if he is okay – in this team, with King Steve, here and now – Eddie simply rolls his eyes and conspicuously whispers ‘Little Miss Primadonna’, their little nickname for King Steve back in the day.

He doesn’t like how instead of feeling lighter he just feels sick afterwards.

A resounding whistle starts the first set.

Eddie has forgotten how violent and competitive volleyball can get. He jumps away every time the ball comes anywhere near him, Harrington’s sweaty body miraculously appearing right there and then to save the day. It’s maybe the first time today that he can see blips of annoyance on the jock’s face but then as soon as it appears it smooths out and Steve graces him with yet another smile.

“You don’t have to be afraid of the ball,” Harrington off-handedly tells him in-between sets.

“Yeah, well, you tend to start feeling a little bit wary about it after you’ve been hit in the face a few times,” Eddie can’t help but bite back. Harrington looks sad all of a sudden, as though his friends haven’t been the ones to attempt their best at making Eddie’s face concave. He can’t help but yelp when a hairy mass – Steve’s arm – settles over his back and shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Harrington teases but there’s a sincere note in his voice. “I won’t let any balls come near you.”

Harrington – blessed, innocent, Harrington – is thankfully too straight to realize the innuendo he accidentally made but Eddie is most definitely not, face red as he mumbles under his breath ‘I mean, some balls are fine.”

Thankfully he does not hear that either.

Steve keeps his promise with surprising accuracy; no volleyball flies anywhere near Eddie and Harrington is always close by. Which should not bring as much comfort to him as it does. Especially considering Eddie still is unable to figure out why – why is Harrington this nice? Why does he care about Eddie at all? Part of him worries it’s all an act, a grand performance by one King Steve, with a grand finale that promises pain and humiliation right at the crescendo.

Nothing happens.

Well, they lose. Spectacularly. One game, then another, then a third one.

Amid this disaster and despite them being the singularly least athletic team possible, Steve Harrington remains an encouraging and patient captain. Not once does he yell or complain when the majority of the team scrambles away from the ball instead of towards it. Surprising, when Harrington has spent years under the wing of Coach Daniels as the Hawkins High very own basketball team captain.

“You’re good at this,” Eddie thinks out loud, promptly pursing his lips because he did not mean to actually say it. It is in particularly bad self-preservation taste to give a jock more ammo.

“I promised,” is all Steve says with a wink. And for a second, a blink-and-you-miss-it, his eyes go up and down along Eddie’s body, and- But that’s impossible. Harrington is not- He wouldn’t have-

It’s a preposterous cherry on the wild-buck cake he’s been offered today. There must have been a ball hurled his way at one point or another, punching him into another dimension that is similar enough yet decidedly feels a little bit off at every step. He’s rooted in his spot like the idiot that he is. What finally breaks him from the self-induced coma is what caused it in the first place - his ears catch the melodic tune of a Harrington laugh and, just like that, from feet above the ground he falls back to Earth, popping like a balloon with a gun.

For all Buckley piss-poor attempts at appearing done with it all, she sure looks chummy with Steve Harrington all of a sudden, and he does with her as well. It was foolish, stupidly childish, to assume the jock’s attention was for Eddie and Eddie alone.

Harrington pulling out his patented charm with Buckley the same way he did a second ago with Eddie feels like a light stab in his chest. What twists it is them looking Eddie’s way, red cheeks and mirth in their eyes, and letting out a short but audible laugh.

“I’m telling you, dingus.”

 “God, shut up,” but Harrington laughs as he says it, even when he elbows Robin right in the boob.

Dead-set on keeping his eyes on the ground, Eddie tries to move past them. He doesn’t get far.

“Hey, Eddie, I’m trying to convince Robin to go for tug of war,” Harrington tells him for some fucking reason.

“No way, dingus.”

“She’s stronger than she looks,” he adds, poking Buckley in the bicep-less arm. “From carrying that tuba around.”

“Trumpet.”

I haul up the amp at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie wants to say – would that impress you?

He’s pathetic. He’s fallen from the high pedestal he self-appointed himself at – above the bullshit popularity contest and suffocating do’s and don’ts of small-town’s high school lore – right at the feet of the walking and breathing representation of everything he resents about how the world works, and-

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles.

A good smoke is exactly what Eddie needs right now. Fill his being with nothing but puffs of smoke. Students and teachers and even some parents roam around the school grounds but his trusty spot behind the gym is free of the intruders. Two cigarettes in, he refuses to feel sorry for himself any longer.

He’s not going to dwell on something that was a pipe dream to begin with. Not too long anyway. Whatever. He’s fine.

He is .

Steve seems wary of him when he gets back but he brushes it off as well as he can and gets in line behind Fred Benson instead. It’s long jump time.

“Robin’s pretty cool, right?” comes a voice behind him. Eddie yelps.

“Jesus Christ, warn a guy.”

Steve has the audacity to look a little sheepish, hand going to scratch at the back of his neck. “Sorry, man.”

Silence.

“Turns out we have some things in common,” he says, then. And stares. For a long time.

“Okay?”

What does he want Eddie to say? You have my blessing? Congrats?

Steve looks slightly discouraged from continuing his ventures but seems willing to trudge on, for whatever reason. “Maybe-“

“Munson, you’re up!”

Oh, thank God .

Eddie may not be the fastest or the strongest but he has years of avoiding bullies under his belt. That is to say, if he wants to avoid someone, he will find a way to become, well, not invisible, but unreachable at the least. It does not help that at this point he understands Harrington’s newfound obsession with him even less. Maybe for a second Eddie could have thought that – well, that doesn’t matter.  

By hour eight and with only one event left, Eddie feels pretty confident he’s going to survive the whole thing after all and not even be on the losing team somehow. That is until Coach Jenkins announces the farewell match.

“Dodgeball! Yellow against blue,” and whistles loud and clear, no room for complaints.

It all goes surprisingly well until it doesn’t. Until there’s a ball flying his way. Until he faceplants into next week.

Of course it’s Steve Harrington who insists on patching him up in the nurse’s office. “I’m the captain,” he says before anyone else can offer. Not that they were people scrambling to do so, really.

“I’m sorry,” Harrington adds when an icepack settles on the side of Eddie’s head once they arrive.

“What for? ‘Far as I can tell it wasn’t you who threw that,” Eddie narrows his eyes. “Right?”

“No, of course not, Eddie, I would never-“ Steve stops himself and Eddie wants so badly to point out that he ‘would ever’, in fact he ‘did ever’, but that would be a lie. King Steve never stooped as law as the likes of Tommy Hagan or other low-esteem high school bullies. King Steve was always above it all, too high and mighty to bother with mundane shit such as head shooting a nerd with a basketball in P.E. or offering a swirlie. Doesn’t make it right, doesn’t make him any less of an asshole for standing by and watching it happen.

But Harrington hasn’t been King Steve for a while now, has he?

It’s morally questionable. It’s confusing.

Eddie thinks he might be having a concussion.

“I promised,” Steve says instead, and Eddie is really even more convinced a visit to the ER is going to be necessary because- “That I wouldn’t let any ball come near you.”

Ah.

A strange oath to so stubbornly hang onto all things considered.

While Eddie struggles to find an appropriate response Steve decides to take it upon himself to start cleaning the scraped knee with a feather-light touch and precision that comes as a surprise. A minute stretches into five, into ten, as he works, clearing his throat at the end.

“I’ve been told that I’ve been,” he makes quotation marks in the air. “acting like a weirdo.”

“Ah. Well. Who am I to disagree with the King?” Eddie juts out his bottom lip and Steve snorts. Clamps a hand to his mouth, embarrassed, though a glint in his eyes betrays him.

“What’s so funny, Harrington?”

“Nothing. Just – I really do have a type,” Steve shrugs.

“Women that are probably too good for you?”

“Mmm, that, too, but also,” he grabs one of the loose strands that have escaped Eddie’s bun and twirls it between his fingers. Heat rushes to his ears fast and warm and he can barely make out what Steve says next. But he does and- “Cute pout. Curly hair. Beautiful brown eyes. Super smart.”

Eddie swallows. “Steve.”

“Not ‘Harrington’ anymore?”

“If this is a joke-“

“It’s not,” Steve’s hand quickly links and tugs at his. “I promise it’s not.”

“I’m a little lost, dude, not gonna lie.”

“The whole day, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You’re… pretty, so pretty. And Robin insisted that you like me, too,” Steve slows down, disentangles his hands from Eddie’s. “But – did I misread this? I- Don’t leave me hanging like that, man.”

Eddie can see the growing panic in Steve’s eyes, desperation in his voice. He can’t help it, his mind comes to a shattering halt.

“Wait, hold on, I- You’re being serious?” Steve nods. “Okay, shit. I-uh. Fuck.”

“This was a bad idea, wasn't it?” Steve fists his hand in his hair, making a mess of it and oh, Eddie cannot allow that, not unless he’s the one that- “I’m so sorry, Eddie-“

One hand on a grey shirt, one with rings getting tangled in-between strands of puffy hair, two pair of lips collide for just a split second. Only a quick pause follows before they are reunited again, and again, and-

“Does that mean,” Steve asks, breathless, between peppering kisses. “that you’ll go out with me?”

“Keep the kisses coming and you have yourself a deal.”

Steve leans away and smirks. Eddie can’t help the little embarrassing whine that leaves his lips. “We stopped. Why did we stop?”

“Told you it’s all about teamwork.”

[eyesofshinigami]

Take A Leap (Someone Will Catch You)

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Pre-relationship, Wayne POV, fluff, mentions of Eddie's bad parents, mentions of Steve's bad parents, Supportive Wayne Munson

Prompt: From @unclewaynemunson "Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap"

WC: 1742 (this one got away from me a little!)

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 3

Wayne knows his boy is a runner. It may not always look like his feet hitting the pavement, but it’s running just the same. Eddie runs away from his problems with a smirk and a joint, just as much as the sound of his tires squealing against the road. Wayne figures it’s why Eddie doesn’t try in school even though the boy is smart as a whip. It’s probably why he spends so much time noodling around on his guitar, or building the fantasy world that him and those kids get lost in for hours on end.

He doesn’t hold it against him, not one bit. Al Munson was the same, so was Lilah. Al ran from his responsibilities and ended himself up in prison, and Lilah ran away from the trouble Al brought her by curling up in the bottom of a whiskey bottle. It’s all they knew, all they’d been taught. That’s why Wayne didn’t bat an eye when Eddie ran away not long after he showed up on Wayne’s doorstep, small and angry and so full of hurt that Wayne thought he looked too much like an animal backed into a corner.

Wayne just had to show Eddie he wasn’t going to run. Eddie was his boy, the kid he never thought he’d had but he sure was glad he does now.

--

Wayne nearly fell out of his boots when he heard the story of what happened to Eddie, about how his boy stood up between the devil and his friends and he didn’t run. Not because he thought Eddie wasn’t capable of something like that, god knows the kid has heart too big for his chest, but Wayne’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact that it’s the Harrington kid telling him this story. The boy’s looking at Wayne with stars and pain in his eyes in equal parts as he tells Wayne exactly why Eddie’s lying in a hospital bed, looking like he was chewed up one side and down the other.

“Eddie’s the bravest guy I know, Mr. Munson. He didn’t deserve what happened to him, but don’t worry. Hopper and Dr Owens are going to take care of it all. You don’t have to worry about any of it.”

Harrington doesn’t look much better, the angry scar around his neck and the bandages wrapped around his torso where his scrub top creeps up. It makes Wayne angry, because as much as he’s not fond of Harrington Senior, there’s no reason this kid should look like this. Not to mention, his parents are notably absent and Harrington is just… hanging around in Eddie’s room.

It would make him wary, except he doesn’t miss the look in Harrington’s eye ever time he glances over at Eddie in the bed. There’s something there, but he can’t put his finger on it. It’ll come to him, he’s sure.

--

Eddie wakes up two days later, with Steve holding one hand and Wayne holding the other, and he looks like he’s confused. “Where the fuck am I?” he whispers, voice harsh and gritty.

“The hospital. I dragged your sorry ass out of the Upside Down. I told you not to be a hero, Munson,” Steve complains, but there’s no heat behind it. His fingers are curled around Eddie’s and Wayne can see the way the boy is shaking.

Eddie scoffs, but tucks his face into his shoulder. “Just taking a page out of your book, big boy. What can I say, I was inspired.”

Oh. Oh. Wayne knows that look. He’s seen Eddie lovesick before, even if his boy buried it under half-baked lyrics and hid it in those stories he writes. He doesn’t miss the way his cheeks pink and he bites his lip.

He’d almost worry, but he hasn’t missed the way Steve has sat by Eddie’s bedside, how he’s taken the time to talk Wayne through the mess of Hawkins and how Eddie got caught up in it. He’s seen the soft look on Steve’s face, the way his thumb traced over the skin of Eddie’s fingers as he held his hand tight.

“You’re an idiot.” Steve sounds so fond, it makes Wayne smile. He sees the moment their eyes meet, can practically see the hearts twirling around their heads like some kind of Looney Tunes cartoon.

But, he knows his boy. It’s why he’s not surprised when Eddie pulls back, starts to tuck into himself like a pill bug. He knows this look too, the one right before Eddie’s sprinting in the other direction. Steve must know it too, judging by the way his face falls and he starts to frown as he gets to his feet.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Eddie. I’m going to go check on Max, give you two some time to catch up.”  And with that, Steve’s out the door and Wayne sees the way Eddie’s face twists into something like a frown, like he’s in pain.

Wayne gives him all of one minute before he says, “Boy, I thought you were smarter than that.”

Eddie jolts. “What?”

Wayne lets out a sigh. “You heard me, boy. You’re gonna tell me that you stood between the devil and your friends and now you’re gonna lose that spine?” It’s none of his business, he’s sure, but Wayne sees it. He’s talked with Steve enough to know that some kind of seed between them has been planted, and he’s not going to let Eddie yank it up by the roots because of whatever idea he’s got in his head. It’s some kind of Munson curse, thinking that they don’t deserve the things they have so they find a way to run away from it. Eddie’s better than most, but Wayne’s not having it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eddie grumps, but the red in his cheeks gives him away. They stare at each other for a long moment until Eddie deflates. “It’s not like that, Wayne. He’s… not like that.” Not like me. “It could be something good, what we have. I don’t want to fuck it up by making it into something it’s not.”

Maybe, maybe not, but Wayne’s no fool. He’s seen the way Steve looks at Eddie, the tender way he touched him while he slept. The way that Steve slept hunched over Eddie’s bedside like some kind of sentinel, only leaving when Wayne told him to take a breather. Wayne’s never been a gambling man, but he’d put good money down on the fact that it appears mighty close to being like that.

“Boy, let me tell you something. Love is scary. Love is being so goddamn terrified but not letting that stop you from loving someone enough to take a leap. You love that racket you listen to even though no one else does. You love that game and those kids you play with even when you know it can make the roof crash down on your head. And it did.” Wayne pauses to give him a look. He wouldn’t push if he thought he was wrong. But he’s loved this kid since he showed on his doorstep, full of piss and vinegar, and he was terrified that he was going to fuck him up more than his daddy did because Wayne didn’t know anything about raising a kid. “And I’m telling you, I’d bet my last dollar bill that Harrington feels the same way you do right now, scared he was going to lose you and scared you don’t feel the way he does.” Steve had said as much, in not so many words, when he thought Wayne was sleeping one night. “You didn’t run from hell, kid. Don’t run from this either.”

He watches Eddie stare at him in shock. He almost feels like he needs to make sure he was speaking English, or whatever happened to Eddie hadn’t affected his brain at all. “He said that?” is what Eddie manages to say.

Wayne rolls his eyes. “He’s been here since before I got here. He hasn’t left your side but maybe a couple of times to go check on that Max girl from next door. If it ain’t love, kid, I don’t know what it is.”

Eddie looks like he wants to argue, but he chews on his lip instead. Good. Give the kid something to think about. “And if you’re worried about what I’m gonna think because you’re both boys, you can stop right here. Doesn’t matter to me what pieces and parts you have, as long as you’re good to each other.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears and he reaches up to pull his hair over his face, the way he’s done since he was eleven years old and overwhelmed with what Wayne tried to offer him. “Thanks, Wayne. I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“See that you do. Now, tell me all about this guitar solo of yours. Steve couldn’t shut up about it.”

--

Wayne had stepped out for a smoke, taking a moment outside to breathe so he stopped feeling so trapped by the white walls of his boy’s hospital room. It’s a nice evening, the moon shining full. Steve had stopped by with some sort of casserole, courtesy of Dustin’s mama, and Eddie had squawked in pleasure and made grabby hands at the dish. Wayne took that as his cue to step out.

He crushes the butt beneath his boot and tucks it back into his pack of cigarettes. He lets out a sigh and starts heading back up the stairs towards Eddie’s room.

It’s quiet when he opens the door, starting when he realizes what he’s seeing. Both boys are fast asleep, curled around each other as much as they can with Eddie’s wires and cords still attached to his hand. Eddie’s tucked into Steve’s chest and Steve’s hair is wrapped tight into Eddie’s curls, still tucked between Eddie and the door like he’s a barrier so the world can’t get him. Their lips are both a bit pink and swollen, and Wayne would be a right fool if he couldn’t put two and two together. It makes him smile, knowing he was right. All they needed to do was take that leap.

He closes the door with a quiet click. He can come back in the morning. Steve’s got Eddie, and Eddie’s got Steve. And he hopes it’s for a long, long time.

[thesupreme316]

hiiiiii I hope you have a amazing day,

I was wondering how the Aew boys react if someone try to use you against them like during the matches with them or in backstage with them busy with a other match ( like the attacker interrupt the match to show you being attacked) , I hope this makes sense 😭

i gotchuuuuu sweetheartttt

AEW Stars React To: You Being Attacked by Their Opponents

Pairings: Kenny Omega X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, Hook X Reader, Darius Martin X Reader, Nick Wayne X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader, Eddie Kingston X Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Supreme Speaks: Thanks to anon for this request (YALL KEEP EM COMING), this was really fun and a little bit different than how I typically post these. please know that you are loved and appreciated

Warnings: ANGST and fluff but ANGST, GIFS are NOT mine, not proofread

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @wwenhlimagines @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom

**Every person has their own backstory (in a wrestling world where I am a fantastic booker/producer) and the person who attacked them are in ()**

Eddie Kingston (BCC)

This happened during Eddie’s match against Christian Cage

Eddie didn’t want you out there in fear that Christian might rizz you up (or even Luchasurus no judgment)

So as he’s about to finish the match; the titantron shows up with you on the floor as Wheeler Yuta and Claudio tower over you

Eddie goes berserk; he no longer cares about the match; fuck the match

He leaves the match to rush to your aid with a kendo stick; whacking and cursing anyone who dares get in the way

He gets to you and hits Claudio and Wheeler as they run away; he holds you with so much care and curses himself out too

“Fuck Claudio and his Yorkie bitch! Fuck, I should have kept an eye on you doll. I’m sorry, it’s my fault”

Legit feels bad about the situation (it almost reduces him to tears) as you are put in an ambulance

Looks at Mox and says “You betta pray that she’s okay or Renee won’t be able to recognize her husband”

Darius Martin (Kingdom)

Okay hear me out; the Kingdom attacks you and then throws you on stage during Darius’ match to distract him

He looks at Action Andretti and Matt Sydal as they tell him to check on you; Darius goes with you backstage as doctors check on you

He’s silent….which is unusual and almost unsettling for you; he’s really taking everything to heart and is angrily simmering

“I’m so sorry that they dragged you into my mess, but I promise I will fix this”

He really feels remorseful about everything and certainly disappointed with himself that he allowed this to happen

Next week; he comes out with a chair and whoops ass

But I think he would go so far to the point where Andretti and Matt have to come out and say stop

He calms down and sits with you backstage for the rest of the show (he prolly will never take his eyes off you again)

Hook (Jack Perry)

Mans is fucking up everyone in sight

Bad enough that Jack took his title and refused to give him a rematch; so Hook is wrestling a jobber

As Hook has his opponent in the Redrum; Jack pops up on the screen with Anna Jay who is just choking you out (wish it was me)

Hook keeps the submission on long enough for the bell to ring before zooming backstage; just as Anna and Jack getaway

He is livid and starts throwing people left and right until he realizes that you are still on the ground

I think he feels exposed at the fact you were attacked cause he really does care about you

He helps you up and is visibly upset; vows to get revenge but then has a better idea

Two weeks later; he returns with you in tow and you two start WHOOPING THOSE TRICKS (to the point where the FTW championship is on the line in a tag team match; ex Edge and Kelly Kelly vs Dolph Ziggler and Laycool)

Nick Wayne (Swerve)

THIS SWEET BABY

He honestly doesn’t know what to think (and what he did to deserve Swerve hating him so much)

I feel like as soon as he sees your unconscious self on the screen, he would immediately dash backstage (like Eddie)

He would run up to your body “Y/N! Are you okay?” Before getting attacked by Swerve and AR Fox; who would then be run off by Best Friends

As he falls to the ground and when he wakes up, Nick would think that he’s a failure (DESPITE NOTHING IS HIS FAULT)

It would really take you constantly reassuring him that he was fine and nothing is his fault

“Yeah sure, but if I can’t protect you from attacks; then what kind of a man and wrestler am I?”

Like Darius, Nick would never allow you to leave his sight

Not until he ended this feud with Swerve

Kenny Omega (Will Ospreay)

Kenny would be that person who would just fill his mind continuously

During his match against Jon Moxley (sorry), The United Empire shows up with you about to go through a table

He turns his attention as Jon rolls him up and wins; Kenny immediately runs to the back

The Bucks attack the group and you are dropped on the floor (not through the table); you have no injuries

As he approaches backstage, mans is worried and anxiety has filled his body

Subconsciously declares war with Opsreay and will allow guilt to take over his mind

“I swear to you that Ospreay, that son of a bitch, will pay for this shit. And he will literally pay for your therapy (bitch take the free therapy plz)”

So much to the point where he’s not smiling anymore and treats every match like a deathmatch

Tbh, as long as Will shows up, Kenny will attack him without fail

Ricky Starks (CM Punk/The Factory)

OKAY LISTEN TO ME I believe that CM Punk would do some fucked up shit (as a true heel)

So during after Ricky’s match on Collision (who hasn’t seen you all night), Punk would show the footage of you being attacked by The Factory

But then he would say; “but that was earlier tonight”

And then BAM Punk attacks Ricky from behind and leaves him the ring

Ricky is upset at himself for not recognizing that you were missing all night and mad that he allowed Punk to attack him and you

Immediately checks on you and apologizes profusely

“I’m so sorry; I should have noticed, I should have made sure you were beside me-” “Ricky, you have been saying I’m sorry for the past hour” “Because I am!”

Would cut a vicious promo on Punk that embarrassed and angered him at the same time

Vows to get his revenge and starts it by attacking Punk

Daniel Garcia (Chris Jericho)

OKAY WOULD LOVE TO DO A POST ON HOW I WOULD BOOK DANNY’S EXIT FROM JAS

Danny is on the verge of leaving the JAS due to differences and Chris’ power trips, and you are his escape from it all

Chris knows this and tries to use it to his advantage; he tries to talk to you about Danny and keeping him in the JAS

To which you disagree and say it’s his decision; to which he got angry….and to which he may or may not have hit you with the baseball bat (CAUSE HE’S A JACKASS)

All of this was shown during Daniel and Sammy’s tag team match; Danny immediately jumped down from the apron (essentially leaving Sammy hanging) and ran to the back

He would be so angry that he would quit the JAS right then and there

Time skip, you were okay; when Danny told you the news, you were happy but you wouldn’t show it to him, asking him if he was sure

“Y/N, your safety, and well-being is more important to me than Jericho’s trash ass club. And it always will be.”

The following weeks are filled with confrontations until Daniel joins the BCC (who are not complete assholes in this universe)

HES FREE

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[andyling]

WAIT FUCK GUYS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA FOR A COMIC SERIES THAT WILL APPEAL TO ME AND MAYBE SOME OTHER PEOPLE BUT LIKE DEFINITELY TO ME IF DONE CORRECTLY

So like, y’know how Tim and Damien are kinda having a custody battle for the Robin title right now because DC never really managed to successfully give Tim his own identity? Well maybe we can have a series focused on exactly that, Tim finding a new hero identity. 

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL FOLKS, BECAUSE DO YOU KNOW WHO ELSE NEEDS A NEW HERO IDENTITY?

KON EL FUCKING KENT

Do I ship Tim and Kon? Yes. Do I understand that Tim is in a relationship with Bernard right now? Yes. Do I know that DC would never let the poly relationship happen? Yes. 

But guess what, I don’t give a fuck. I’m desperate here. These two don’t need to smooch I just need them to talk to each other and be best friends and go on adventures and figure their shit out. I MISS THEM. THEIR RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC, EXCLUDING ANY ROMANCE, IS AMAZING AND I NEED MORE OF IT. 

Think about it, Kon and Tim know that Jon and Damien are going to take the mantles of “Superboy” and “Robin” and they have to learn to move on. They struggle to let go, they doubt whether they truly can make a name for themselves. So, they decide to leave Metropolis and Gotham. They separate themselves from the people that have defined their entire heroic lives. But both of them are afraid of being alone, so they go together. One last journey as Robin and Superboy. 

They travel the world together. They meet some familiar faces. 

Maybe they go visit Greta and Cissie and we get to see how their civilian lives are going. Perhaps the girls suggest that maybe the two need to let the hero life go. Maybe Tim and Kon even consider it, but they realize that being a hero is what they want to do. (AND THEY DON’T FIGURE IT OUT WHILE IN A FIGHT OR SOMETHING, NO THEY JUST FUCKING TALK. THEY BEAT SOME SHITHEAD UP AND THEN THEY TALK. WHY DID THEY BECOME HEROS? WHY DO THEY WANT TO KEEP BEING HEROS? GIVE THEM SOME FUCKING DEPTH DC I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD) 

Maybe they run into Anita. She’s found out that Slobo is alive and the three of them go to save him. (AND HE FINALLY GETS FUCKING RESCUED AFTER GETTING TRAPPED AS A CONCIOUS STATUE FOR SO FUCKING LONG FOR NO GODDAMN REASON I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WAS PUT IN THE FINALE FOR THE ORIGINAL YOUNG JUSTICE SERIES THAT LAST HALF OF THAT RUN SUCKED ASS AND EVEN IF YOU DON’T AGREE WITH ME ABOUT THAT WE SHOULD ALL AGREE THAT SLOBO DESERVED BETTER). There is a reunion and it’s sweet and happy and just a nice moment. 

Shenanigans ensure, blah blah blah. They meet more familiar faces, some friendlier than others. They meet new people that help them along their journey. They now fully understand what makes them different from other heros and how they want to put those skills to use. They know what kind of heros they want to be and are ready to pave a new path for themselves.

And at the end of it the two choose new names for themselves that are hopefully not stupid and are very cool and suits them. The two have a touching moment where they say just how much the other means to them. Then they hug, maybe kiss (sorry i’m delusional), and then go their separate ways. 

Tim returns to Gotham, returns to his family, and we get a nice little reunion between the bat family. He officially resigns as Robin and the first time his new hero identity is put into action is in Gotham with the rest of his family because no matter what, he’s still a bat. Tim, as a hero, does his thing and stops crime and keeps the city safe. However he also focuses his attention on the political and corporate corruption happening in not just Gotham city, but all around the world. He even uses his influence as Tim Drake-Wayne if it can help. Most people won’t know he’s the one digging up evidence and ensuring justice is served, but that’s okay. So long as people’s lives can be changed for the better, he’ll be happy. 

Kon returns to Metropolis and talks to Clark. They have a heart to heart conversation and Kon official gives up the title of Superboy. He then goes to Jon and Kon officially gives his mantle to him. Kon was the first Superboy and Jon will be a more than worthy successor. Unlike Tim, Kon doesn’t stay in his home city. He bounces around from place to place aiding whoever is need of his assistance, whether that be working with another hero to stop a villain or helping a small community recover from a devastating natural disaster. He may not have a home city like other heros, but he still has a home. That home is simply spread out all over the world. After all for Kon, home is wherever his friends are. 

We fast forward a few months. Tim and Kon meet up at the old Young Justice base. They joke about how much they hated each other when they first met, which leads into a serious conversation about much has changed. Despite everything, they both agree that they’ve changed for the better and will continue to keep improving themselves and their lives. And yet, even after all of that . . .

“Kon, we may have given up our old names, but we’re still a part of those legacies. No matter what the future has in store, there are some things that will never change. You’re my Superboy. Always will be.”

“And you’ll always be my Robin.” 

And the comic ends. 

[sweet-villain]

Miles Away~ E.M 

@pleasantlycrazyworld asked:

I have an angst idea! Do it as angsty as you want!!!

But the idea is Eddie breaks up with you before the first tour him and the guys go on (it's for like 6 months or something) and he claims he wanted the full Rockstar experience and couldn't be in a relationship. The reader is like fine whatever but everyone can tell they're upset and miss him. Even though Eddie left the reader has been still taking care of Wayne like they did while being with Eddie. They still come over and drop food off and clean and stuff but they haven't really talked or spent time with him and he's mad at Eddie for what he did.

Angst

Tears run down cheeks watching him pack up. He was finally going on tour with the rest of the guys. Corroded Coffin is going to be big. Girls were going to be all over your ex boyfriend.

Gareth makes his way over to you as he pulls you into a hug.

" I'm so sorry" he whispers into your hair. " I wish there was more that I could do" he says. He hugs you tighter. Gareth was like a brother to you, always looking out to you and making sure you never stopped smiling. " You deserve better than him" he pulls away, brushing your tears away.

" I'll miss you Emerson" he chuckles and pokes your nose, " Here" he takes out his drumming sticks from the back pocket of his pants and hands them to you. " I want you to have these"

You gap at him in shock, " But these are your favorite"

" You're my favorite too" he says as he bounces on his feet with a shrug. " I'll miss you" you say it again as he pulls you into a hug. " Quit hogging her, man" Jeff says he tugs you from Gareth.

" I'm not going anywhere. Hugs for all of you guys" Jeff wraps his arms around you while the other member that you kept forgetting his name, hugged you from the other side like a sandwich while Gareth wrapped his arms around the other two and you.

" Guys! Your squishing me!" you screamed trying to get away from them. They laughed feeling you squirm in their arms. They pull away and you dramatically gasped for air.

" Jesus, grab some deodorant before you guys go" you coughed. The boys put their hands on their chest like an insult.

" We smell like men, thank you for your suggestion. We will take it into consideration" the member that you forgot his name said.

" I'll miss you guys. Don't forget me" your lip quiver in a small pout as you looked at the three. " We will never!" they shouted together, scaring you. " Jesus guys, warn a girl before you decide to give her a heart attack"

Gareth stuck his tongue out. Jeff and the other rolled their eyes. Your eyes lock with him as he stood by the doors. His mane of curls were pulled back in a messy bun. He sported on the leather jacket he always wore with a cigarette in his mouth.

His eyes locked with yours.

" So that's it? We're done just like that? You don't want me to wait for you when you come back?" you asked as Eddie paced the trailer getting his things into the bag he found underneath his bed. It was worn out with holes in it.

" There is no point of waiting for me Y/N" he says shoving his shirts in. " I'll have girls lined up on me, I'll be busy on tour and won't have much time for you" your mouth dropped hearing how he is just throwing the relationship away.

" Do I mean nothing to you?" you asked, tears spilling down your cheeks. Eddie stands up with his back to you, his eyes close hearing how broken you sound.

" You do, you're my best friend and my best girl. But I'm going to be gone for six months. Who know what might happen in those six months? You'll just be holding me back"

" Fuck you! Go on tour, fuck all the girls you want. If this is what you want, fine. I'm not going to stand in your way, be your girlfriend. You're an asshole, Edward. Good luck on your precious tour" you spatted. He sighs as he grabs a hold of you wrist but you turn around and slapped him. He stumbles back with his hand on his cheek as he stares at you in shock.

" Don't touch me! Fuck you" you walk out of the trailer making sure it slammed on your way out as you headed towards your car.

The reason that Corroded Coffin got signed and noticed was because of you. You had made a couple of calls and finally reached a producer that was willing to come to the Hide Out to see the guys. Once he saw them, how talented they were and how you talked about them, the producer met with them. They found out that it was you that got the producer to come.

Eddie made love to you that night, thanking you each time his lips placed any part of your skin.

He continue to stare at you, finishing off the cigarette as he threw it on the ground and stomped on it with his boots. The same boots that you got him for his birthday.

He didn't say a word as each of them got on the bus. He stood with his back to you as he thought to look at you one more time before he left. He didn't as he walked onto the bus.

Your back turned to your car as you leaned on it watching the bus but your eyes locked once more time with your ex as he stood by the window feeling his own heart sink to his stomach.

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The bell jingles above Family Video as you entered. Steve turns around from the computer as he spots you first.

" Y/N!" he yells throwing his hands up in the air as he stands up. Robin peeks from the break room and walks over as she throws her arms around you.

" It's great to see you, how you've been doing?" Both Steve and Robin knew that Eddie broke up with you before he left one tour. Steve was ready to drive to the first spot of the tour to turn Eddie's insides into mush.

You shrugged, " I'm alright" you told them. That was the truth, you have been doing better than you expected. " I've been visiting Uncle Wayne more. Doing the little things that I can do to make sure he's not alone"

" I know you miss him" Steve says, Robin throws him a look and shake her head. " Robin, it's fine" you tell her noticing the look on her face. She sighs as she brings you into hug.

" He didn't deserve you. You're such a sweet, kind, caring and he let you go"

" Thank you but I'll be okay, I promise you" Steve eyes go wide as he remembers the movie you wanted to see the last time you stopped by. He takes it underneath the counter and hands it to you.

" This should put a smile on your pretty face" he says. Your eyes beam seeing the film you wanted to see in your hands and look at him.

" Thank you Stevie, you're the best" you lean up on your toes and kissed his cheek. His cheeks beet red as he looks away. Robin can't help but smirk.

" You're welcome" you giggle, poking his cheeks. " Harrington, your a little red" his cheeks redden as he puts hands over his face preventing you from looking at him. " Awe, Stevie's all shy" you teased.

Steve groans in his hands as he turns away.

" Thank you, I'll see you later!" you walk out of the store with Robin shaking her head at Steve, " You're such a dingus."

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You knock on the trailer door three time letting Wayne know it was you that was on the other side of the door. In your hands you had a bag filled with food that you cooked and in the other you had a six pack of the beer he likes.

The door flew opened and Uncle Wayne stood there, his back to the door as he lets you in.

You step into the trailer looking at all the cups on the walls, and eyes fall on the couch seeing the blanket you always shared with Eddie on movie nights laid there neatly folded. Your eyes looked over to the cup by the sink. The same very cup that had " best boyfriend ever." It was Eddie's cup, unwashed and it sat there for god knows how long.

Your eyes drop down to the movies near the tv, the very once you watched with Eddie the last time you were here. You snap out your thoughts as you set the bag on the table along with the six pack.

Uncle Wayne stood on the side with his arms across his chest as he watched you unpack the food. The food had little tables on them, how long he should preheat them for and he sees the little desserts too added.

No words were spoken between the two of you but the look on Uncle Wayne's face had told you how much appreciated he was. You turn to look at him as you bite on your bottom lip preparing what you wanted to say to him but there were no words.

When he heard that Eddie broke your heart and ended things, he became angry and wanted to drive down himself and let the boy know how wrong he was to let you go. He hasn't spoken to Eddie when he called. He knew he should of picked up the phone, but he was upset and angry seeing the look on your face every time you stopped by.

You were about to walk past him when your arms wrap around him, he is surprised at fist but wraps his arms around you as he hugs you back. You look up at him with a small smile on your face. He can see the heart break look in your eyes. You can't hide it from him. He knew you all too well and loved every time you came over. Weather to bring him food or to clean the trailer.

You were raised right and he had hoped Eddie would marry you one day. He was beyond shocked when he heard how you made his nephews dream come true.

He watches as you walk out of the trailer without a word.

" Boy, you're an idiot" he mumbles to himself as he shakes his head making his way to one of the containers you left for him containing his favorite food.

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The next time he sees you is when he's coming back from work, it was a long day at the plant and he stops in his track seeing how you've been cleaning around. There were no more dirty dishes in the sink, there wasn't a hint of smell in the air that used to be there, the counters look like they were sparkling from the light shine on them, the notices the floor isn't what it used to look like and everything looked more cleaner than he ever saw in his entire life.

He watches you as you emerge from the bathroom, removing gloves from your hands as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You were about to make your way into the kitchen to set down the chemical you used when you caught him standing there.

You sent him a small smile as you motion to the fridge. He walks over to it and throws it open seeing it was stock with food. You had gone grocery shopping.

On the couch laid a fresh pair of clothes with bag next to it. You reach for a bag containing the clothes you had picked out for him since he never had the time to go out shopping. Eddie had told you at one point what his size in shirt was as well as the rest.

Uncle Wayne open the back as he peered inside. His eyes teared up as he takes out fresh socks, new pair of pants and two new flannels. He looks over to you and drops the back as his arms wrap around you.

Eddie was so stupid to let you go. You were taking care of his Uncle even though he broke your heart. He had no idea how much you cared for his family.

You hear a sniff coming from him. A frown replaces on your face when you look up at him. You hug him tighter and it's like that for a couple minutes before you let him go.

You sent him one more smile and grab your things as you head out. Your smile widen and beams with happiness when you catch Uncle Wayne gripping the new flannel. He has new clothes to wear when he goes to work.

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The bus makes a stop as each member of Corroded Coffin steps off. All their hairs have grown out and they all have little scruffs on their faces.

" I'm beat" Gareth says as he stretches his arms above his head. He gets his back out of the bus as he waves to his bandmates. Jeff walks off and the other does leaving Eddie behind as he gets into his van. He grips the wheel missing how it felt underneath his hands, putting a cigarette in his mouth, he drives off to the trailer.

He hopes his uncle will be happy to see him.

He reaches the trailer parks and parks the van in front as he gets out. He stretches his hands out over his head as he looks around, spotting his neighbor watching him and he waves over to Max.

She scoffs as she heads inside. She was fully aware that he broke your heart, leaving you to pick up your own pieces of your heart and be back on your feet.

He frowns but shrugs as he head inside the trailer. His uncle comes out of the bathroom and stops in his tracks.

Eddie's beaming with a smile at the sight of his uncle. But he notices that his uncle isn't smiling nor coming up to hug him.

" What's wrong? Are you not happy to see me back?" his uncle takes a look at Eddie. Eddie's hair is a bit longer, a bit frizzer than usual. His arms are filled withe more tattoos and he has a scruff on his face that doesn't peak the interest of his uncle.

" Boy" he started to say, shaking his head. Eddie notices the new flannel on his uncle. " Did you get new clothes?"

His uncle chuckles, " I did. But you" he points to his nephew, " should be ashamed of yourself letting a pretty, smart, caring girl like Y/N go. She has been here every other day of the week making sure I was fed, taken care of, this trailer" he motions towards around, " has been cleaner in more years than I imagine. That girl has nothing but love you for the beginning."

Eddie looks down at the ground as he bites his bottom lip. But he's surprised that after he hurt you the way he did, you still came here and looked after his uncle. His family.

" You better fix this boy, you hear me?" Eddie rose his head as he nodded his head. " I don't care about this damn tour you did. That girl deserves more than what you did. You should be thankful she even took the time to look at you. Fix it boy"

Wayne grabs some food out of the fridge, " welcome home" he adds as he sits by the table. " You still here?" he asks seeing Eddie standing there. Eddie's eyes get wide as he scrambles out of the trailer into the van.

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You giggle as Steve wraps his arms around you and kisses your cheek. After Eddie has broken your heart, you had managed to repair your heart and give it to someone that was more than what Eddie had done to you.

Steve Harrington.

He had grown close to you, took you on dates, made sure you were happy and he promised he would not hurt you the way Eddie did.

It took you the whole six month to find someone like Steve and it's the best decision you have ever made.

A van rolled up to your house and your heart stops for a moment as you look at the driver sitting there. It's him. Eddie was home. You stopped laughing as you pull away from Steve's arms.

The door opened and he stepped out. His hair was longer, his arms were filled with a little more of ink, he had a scruff on his face and the way he looked at you the moment he stepped out, made your breath hitch.

" Eddie" you spoke his name. His face light up in a small smile.

" Y/N" he says. Steve comes up besides you as he takes your hand in his, interlacing his fingers with yours. Eddie's smile drops as he notices. You are with Steve now and he was too late.

" You're with Harrington?" he asks.

You nod as you wrap yourself in the hold of Steve's arm burying your face in his shoulder as your eyes peek out looking at your ex. He scoffs in disbelief.

" You went from me, to him?"

" You broke my heart. You left me, Eddie"

" I'm sorry for the way things ended between us. You didn't deserve that" He says.

" I didn't" you nod agreeing with him. Eddie lips are in a thin line.

" Thank you for taking care of my uncle. You didn't have to"

" I wanted to, he is like family to me"

Eddie nods as he looks at the ground, " will you ever forgive me?"

Steve chuckles causing Eddie to glare at him.

" I don't know, Eddie. I don't have an answer for you" Eddie nods.

" When you do, you know where I live. You know my number" he turns around and walks back to his van. Your hand releases from Steve as you run to Eddie.

" Eddie?" you call out to him. He turns around to face you as his eyes are filled with hope for a moment.

" Welcome home" you say.

For the first time Eddie clearly sees that you didn't need him to make you happy. He sees the way your face lit up, he understands now that Steve was there when he wasn't. He wanted to go back to the way they used to be.

But he was going to wait as long as he needs to.

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Part 7

I love writing this story so much I am constantly going back and rereading my favorite parts. And when I write really, really good bits I want to put it up immediately so you all can squee with me. But I also know that it’s better to give each part some time between each one so the chapter can get the love it deserves. It’s ongoing battle I tell you.

This is the start of what I’ve been calling in my head the dark chapters. This is where we get to the tragic backstories that drove these two boys apart. TW: for panic attack in this and brief mention violence.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

*

Chrissy came over to where the boys had sat down with Wayne after they had put their equipment away. She slid the beers over to each of them with practiced ease.

“So...” she began. “You’ve got history with my boy, Garnet.”

“Who the fuck is Garnet?” Jeff asked.

Chrissy giggled. “My boss is weird hipster who has all off of us go by gem names to keep up the mystic of the place. Jewels of the Queen’s Crown as it were.”

Gareth laughed. “And what do they call you?”

“I’m Opal for now,” she explained after taking a swig of her beer. “But Garnet says that before he leaves, I’ll probably be Sapphire or Emerald.” She thought for a moment. “Considering Diamond’s sense of humor? Probably Sapphire.”

“Why Sapphire?” Eddie asked, frowning in confusion.

Chrissy laughed. “Because I’m a lesbian?” The boys just stared at her with blank faces. “Sappho is the first lesbian? Another word for lesbian is sapphic? Sapphire, sapphic?”

Suddenly they got it and started nodded.

She turned to Eddie. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding the question. You and I are going to have nice long talk about it later.”

Eddie straightened up and looked guiltily at his beer. “We just aren’t in the same universe is all.”

Chrissy looked over at Garnet and sighed. “I think you guys are closer than you think.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie growled. “In what multi-verse are me and that man even in the same hemisphere?”

Chrissy sighed. “I’m not one for spreading rumors around but from what I’ve heard, Garnet’s dad threw him out when he came out as gay.”

All four boys turned to look at Steve slinging cocktails like he was born to it in shock.

“He’s gay?” Jeff asked. “There’s no way. He was a known ladies’ man in high school. Him and his girlfriend were like the king and queen of Hawkins.”

Chrissy just hummed. “Trust me when I say that I’ve been working with him for almost two months now, and the dude ain’t straight. He never flirts with the girls. Like ever. And yeah, sure some of it can be marked down to Garnet being a consummate professional. But when guys flirt with him, he gets all flustered and turns pink.”

Eddie sat back. “Huh.” He shrugged off the gnawing feeling in the back of his mind of what it would have been like if Eddie had known that sooner. “Still, I wouldn’t have thought that pretty, rich boy Garnet would deign to work at a bar, even one as upscale as this one.”

“What the fuck you talking about, boy?” Wayne growled, speaking up for the first time. “I didn’t teach you that classist bullshit.”

Eddie ducked his head. “Sorry, Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne jutted his chin Steve’s direction. “I know you’ve been calling him something different because of the rules of the club or whatever, but if you lot are talking about that boy at the bar, then you need to check your bias. He worked at the plant for a year on the weekends trying to save money for college.”

Everyone turned to Wayne in shock.

“He worked at the plant?” Gareth said. “But I thought he was earning money babysitting. He used to babysit my sister Clara after school when I had to work or had band practice.”

Jeff shook his head. “Nah, man. He was working at Family Video that year. My mom would gush about how sweet and helpful he was when she was trying to find a good family movie.”

Wayne took a sip of his beer. “That boy did all three at the same time. He told me he’d work the video store during the time the kids would be at school and then babysit after. Then he’d work weekends at night at the plant.” He glared at Eddie. “Did such a good job, Ken wanted him to take over as foreman of the night shift when he retired.”

Eddie looked over at Steve and furrowed his brow. “Sorry, Uncle Wayne,” he repeated with more conviction.

Wayne nodded and the topic changed to what songs they should preform next time and in what order.

Sometimes Eddie would catch himself looking over at Steve in a new light.

*

Steve was having a bad week. There was no getting around it. He was trying to get to class, but the beemer wouldn’t start.

It ground and ground, but wouldn’t start.

“Fuck!”

He pounded on the steering wheel. He was going to have to take the bus, which meant he was going to be late.

He threw open his door and popped the hood. Maybe he figure it out. He checked the oil and the other fluids, but they were all at least decent levels. He check for any loose cables but everything seemed to be connected.

Steve was about to slam the hood back down when someone stopped him.

“What seems to be the trouble, Harrington?” Eddie asked, hand on the hood preventing its closure.

Steve sighed. “No fucking clue. And I’m going to be late for class. And since the midterm is due today, if I’m late, I’m fucked.”

Eddie hummed. “I’ll call someone to come get the car and I’ll drive you in.”

Steve stared at him wide-eyed and slack-jawed. “Why? You don’t like me.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “No, I don’t. However, I’m not going to let someone like you mess things up for Joyce.”

Steve wanted to protest and scream but he knew that’s what Eddie expected him to do. So he just shrugged. “Whatever, man. Just get me the number for this auto shop of yours and we’ll consider the transaction complete.”

Eddie slammed the hood down and Steve went to pull the keys out of the ignition. He kept the windows rolled up, but the door unlocked. He placed the keys under the visor and then grabbed his bag.

“The tow truck will be here in five minutes,” Eddie said, putting his phone back into his pocket, “so it shouldn’t be too long.”

Steve sighed heavily and followed Eddie to his van.

Once they were on their way Steve turned to him. “What did you mean that I might mess things up for Joyce?”

Eddie looked at him briefly before turning back to the road. “I thought you knew her.”

Steve sighed again. “Yeah, four years ago. Which is what I tried to tell Dean Ortega. Yes, I used to babysit her youngest son. Yes, I did that for a year. No, I haven’t spoken to her in the last four. Been kinda busy, you know, going to school.”

Eddie hummed. “There’s been so much trouble with the course the college is thinking of dropping it. And if that happens...”

Steve threw his head back against the headrest. “Then she’s out a job. Great. I was there for those two major fuck ups. I don’t know what happened with the last teacher, but the first professor was a real piece of work.”

Eddie licked his lips thoughtfully. “According to Joyce, Professor Martin was found sleeping with the live model.”

Steve blinked. “The basketball captain?” he asked, his voice squeaking in shock and outrage. “Holy fuck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Joyce said that she was surprised that they even gave the class one more chance.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I guess. Jesus Christ.”

They got to class and Joyce looked at them with a big grin on her face. “Oh, I didn’t know you guys were friends!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“Oh we’re not,” Eddie said and Steve winced.

“We just live in the same apartment complex and Eddie came to my rescue when my car wouldn’t start this morning,” Steve explained.

Joyce smiled fondly. “That was sweet of you, Eddie dear.”

Eddie blushed and turned his head. “I was just being a good Samaritan.”

“Well, thank you,” she murmured.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, thanks Eds.”

Eddie bit his lip at the new nickname. “You’re welcome.”

Steve grinned and went to sit down.

Eddie blushed and got into position, striping down to his underwear. He kept his eye on Steve like he always did. But today, instead of the count of one, two, three and look away, Steve’s gaze lingered, drawing in shorter spurts and longer looks at his body.

He didn’t know how he felt about that, or rather his brain didn’t. His heart and libido were one hundred percent onboard with the heated regard. His brain told them to shut up.

*

It was an unseasonably warm day for March. The sun was finally starting to do more then hang in the sky and look pretty. Robin and Steve were on their way back to their apartment after a rare Sunday meeting at the bar. They were dressed for work. Robin all in black and Steve in his white button up.

They were a block and half from their place, having had to take the bus with Steve’s car still in the shop, when suddenly a storm rolled in and opened up above them.

Instantly they were drenched to the skin. Robin broke into a run to try to get to their apartment faster, but soon realized that Steve wasn’t with her. She looked back to see that Steve had sunk to his knees, his arms wrapped around his shoulders. As if he was trying to cover his back.

“Shit!” Robin hissed and ran back to his side. “Steve? Come on, Steve. We’re almost home.”

He shook his head and began to rock back and forth. “They’ll see! They’ll see.”

“Steve, there’s no one around,” she reasoned. “I’ll even walk behind you if that will make you feel better. But we can’t just sit out here in the rain, dingus.”

But try as she might, she knew it was futile. Steve was firmly locked inside his head and she didn’t know how to get him out. Even after years of seeing him like this, she hadn’t found a tried and true way to make him come out, except to wait them out and hope it didn’t take too long.

She sat on the cold wet pavement and settled down to wait out this nightmare.

Just then a van slowed down beside them and Eddie called out, “Hey, Buckley, everything okay?”

She looked down at Steve and then back at Eddie. She had a choice to make and it wasn’t an easy one.

“No,” she said, forcing out the best response for Steve in that moment. They needed help and if Eddie was willing, she’d be a fool to turn him away.

The van came to screeching halt and Eddie was out onto the pavement in an instant.

“What happened?” he asked, not sure if he should get close in case it was seizure again.

“It started to rain and his scars started to show through the white fabric,” Robin explained.

Eddie walked around to Steve’s back and cursed. “What the fuck?!”

Robin frowned. “How the hell do you not know about Steve’s scars? Like literally everyone in the whole god damn country knows how he got them.”

Eddie’s head reared back. “Um...not me. When did it happen?”

Robin stared at him aghast. “What do you mean when did it happen? It was literally a nine day wonder on all news outlets.” When Eddie just continued to stare at her as if she was mad, she said. “His senior year of high school? He was gone for like a week, how did you not notice?”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Probably the same reason you never noticed I was gone for that same fucking time period.”

She looked down at Steve who was still rocking back and forth. “Steve, hey can you hear me?”

Steve just continued to be lost in his own world.

Eddie took a step closer to see if he could help but Robin held her hand up. “Stay back! When he gets like this his fight or flight response is heightened and he’s been known to pack one hell of a punch.”

Eddie blinked rapidly. “Come again?” His hand came up to his jaw instinctively.

Robin rubbed circles along Steve’s back trying to get his to calm down. “There was once he had a panic attack in public and this guy came up and tried to help him, thinking he’d fallen or something,” she explained. “Steve lashed out not knowing what was happening. He said he woke up with a vague memory of the hit and bruised knuckles. Of course by then, the guy had booked it.”

Eddie took a step back. “That...that was me.”

Robin’s head shot up. “Oh fuck.” She looked back down at Steve. “You thought he hit you because you tried to help him.”

Eddie snarled, “He dislocated my jaw. I couldn’t sing for six months.”

Robin was on her feet in an instant. “Shit, shit, shit. He doesn’t know what he’s doing when he’s like this. That incident haunts him.”

Eddie took another step back. “It haunts me too.” He yanked off his jacket and threw it at her. “For his modesty. He can return it at the next class.”

He turned on his heel and ran to his van. He peeled away from the curb, like the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Robin stood there watching Eddie go, her tears blending with the rain. She didn’t even bother to wipe her face. She walked back to Steve and put the jacket around his shoulders.

The combination of the warmth of the jacket and the covering of Steve’s scars, he slowly came out of his panic attack.

She helped him to his feet and the made it the rest of the way to their apartment. She let him have the first shower and put him to bed.

They were going to have to have a long talk when he was sane enough to handle it.

Part 8 Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Epilogue

Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428

[igotanidea]

Date gone wrong : Jason Todd x plus-size fem!reader part 2

part 1

Y/N rushed out of the cave and back into her room with the speed no one would even dare to suspect her of having. Tim could barely keep up with her and he was the Robin. Much more trained than her.  The second the girl reached her bedroom she fell onto the soft sheets groaning in frustration and the pillow did little to muffle it.

“Y/N….” Tim approached her slowly, not having enough courage  to sit beside

“You know Tim, sometimes I hate your brothers.”

“Tell me about it. Dick and Jason can be a pain in the ass each but when they are together….” Tim shook his head, understanding her perfectly “for what it’s worth I’m sorry I started this.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s not your fault at all.”

“So….. you’re not sad? You acted pretty shaken out there. I mean, there are still signs of tears on your face.”

“Please” she rolled her eyes and propped herself on the elbow to face the middle Wayne. “It was an act. I was really hoping this would stop them from reading. You did not hear it from me, but tears are sometimes woman’s last resort. Most man get bemused with the sight of it and give up whatever reason caused them. Of course I should have known this wouldn’t work for your brothers.”

“Probably. But you know, it’s ok to be hurt. There is nothing wrong with it.” Tim finally sat on the bed next to his friend.

 “I know. And I was. But it was long time ago, you know. I came to terms with the fact that I’m not the girl who can be the object of interests. And it’s fine. Or maybe not. I mean there are worse and better days, but I’m handling them. I’d rather focus on how I act and behave and my character than reminiscent all the hard words from the past.”

“Some people in this family could really take example from you.”

“Hush!” Y/N  smiled and put a hand over Tim’s mouth “the walls have ears, let’s not give away any names.”

“As you wish. You know, Y/N, I know first handed that being laughed at, mocked and pointed because of who you are sucks. But the world is full of assholes and …. “ he hesitated

“What?”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna say it” Tim rubbed his forehead “but in this case the “fuck them” attitude helps. You just do your thing and people who are really worth a place in your life will appear. “

“How’s Bernard doing, Tim?”

“I… um…. What?”

“Oh, you are blushing. That is just so cute.”

“I’m not…. This is not about…..”

“Hey, relax. I’m the last one who will tease you about it. You two are really good together and you deserve all the best in the world Tim. Don’t worry about me. I’m….. good with my life. Especially since I have a friend like you.” she looked straight into his face “Thank you, Tim. You never fail to make me feel better.”

“Likewise, Y/N” Tim smirked, a crazy plan already forming inside his head “and speaking of friends, Bernard has one friend that I think you would like to meet and…..”

“Oh, damn it!”

***

“Remind me again, why did I agree to this?”

“Cause you could not resist my proposition.”

“Sure, if you can even call it proposition.” she hissed  “blind double date. I can’t believe it. It’s like going back in time.”

“This time it will be so much better, I promise.”

“I trust you with this, Tim. But I don’t really have high hopes. I told you, I’m not Miss America, just the girl next door and that is not…..”

“Hush! Stop it! You look amazing and are a wonderful person and if you can’t see it yourself I’m gonna help you get to the point where you respect yourself and …..”

“Tim?”

“Yes?”

“Did you notice that our friendship is mostly based on assuring each other that we have value outside of work and the things we do? It’s like we are constantly trying to prove each other we deserve good things.”

“The difference is, you were a bit more successful with that than me.”

“Just a bit?” Y/N  raised an eyebrow in disbelief

“Let me return the favor, Y/N. Let me …. Oh, there they are.” The boy turned towards the direction of two man walking across the street towards them.

“Hello Tim.” Bernard came closer and smiled at his boyfriend “Y/N.”

“Hey Bernard. Nice to see you again.”

“Been too long, right? Tim is always so secretive when it comes to his family it seems like I’m being left out. “

“I’m sure he told you enough to get me inside this situation.”

“Right.” Bernard chucked “speaking of that I’d like you to meet Tyler, Y/N. Where is ……?”

“I’m here, I’m here. Sorry, got an emergency call at the hospital and just could not …..”

“Tyler is a doctor!” Bernard interrupted the explanation “he’s very devoted to his work but thankfully, still made it on time. Tyler, this is Y/N, the girl I told you about.”

“Hello, miss Y/N. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you.”

“Um…. Thank you?” that was new for her. She was rather used to being judged for her curves and outlook, but this one here seemed like a really nice guy, who saw more than just the way she looked like.

“Bernard told me you work in tech industry?”

“Not exactly. I have wide knowledge on the subject but I write a column about it for a newspaper rather than invent anything myself and …..”

“With her brain she could be the best pioneer in the state…..”

“Tim!” Y/N hissed trying to make his stop

“But she refused an offer from the Wayne Enterprises saying this would be bad for her objectivity….”

“Really?” Tyler eyed her carefully and she involuntarily blushed under his gaze “This must have taken a hell lot of guts.  Saying no to Wayne? I would love to hear more.”

“Shall we then?” Bernard took Tim’s arm and lead the way to the café the four friends were supposed to spend the evening.

*** meanwhile, at the batcave Jason was sitting in front of the computer searching for the information that would be of use to him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dick finally got to him, relieved his younger brother did not do anything stupid or crazy. Yet.

“I told you, I’m going to make it right.”

“By trawling Y/N’s bad dates from three years ago?!”

“Yes.”

“And then what? Beat them to death? Jason, come on, are you completely insane?!”

“They made a grave mistake of making her feel bad about herself. A one-time mistake.”

“I wonder why are you more bothered by it than she was. If I didn’t know you, I would say you care about ….”

“what? no.” Jay snorted “I just like a good fight that’s it. And it’s enough of a reason.”

“Since when do you need reason, Jaybrid?” Dick smirked and Jason finally turned from the screen to face his brother.

“Drop it, Dickhead.”

“Ok, fine, relax, I’m just saying that maybe there’s more to it then you think….”

“No girl would be disrespected if I can do anything about it! It’s not about Y/n! It’s about making sure that women in this fucking city can feel safe and not abused by some shitheads like those guys she met with. After I’m done with them, they would never say a bad word about any female ever!”

“Calm down, Jay. You don’t know about them. Maybe they have changed? Maybe there’s no need to get this violent and …..”

“I hate your attitude, Grayson. Take a look at this.” Jason pointed towards the screen “I managed to locate seven of the men she wrote about…..”

“What?! How!? Please don’t tell me you dragged Babs into this mess?”

“I joined voluntarily. “ familiar sound of wheelchair echoed through the cave and a few seconds later Barbara Gordon herself came into view “Hi, Dick.”

“I can’t believe it. “ Dick shook his head “This must me some crazy dream. You two working together?!”

“He has a point with this safety for woman rhetoric. Not every girl can protect herself like me or Steph or Cass of even Y/N. So if that means some men have to be taught a lesson I’m more than glad to participate. “

“I can’t…..”

“Ekhem.” Jason coughed impatiently cutting the exchange of words between Dick and Babs “As I was saying we managed to find some information about those guys. Seems like your arguments of their change and becoming better fails here, Dickhead. Just take a look yourself.

Dick sighed deeply and involuntarily raised his head to examine the findings.

“Wait. This is what you found?!”

Photos and extracts of newspaper titles were gleaming on the screen. Some of them coveting the subject of girls being used and dragged into brothels, some other about violent men beating their girlfriends, other about murder attempts.

“I don; think that is anything new in Gotham, but fine. I’ll help you.”

“No one asked you to, Grayson! Stay out of my way!”

“I can’t let you lose, Jay. You will wreak havoc on them.”

“That’s the whole point!”

“This is not….. Wait, what is it?”

A chime on the screen got the attention of three people and much to their surprise a picture of Y/N in a café with some guy popped in.

“Um, Babs? What filer did you use for your search?”

“Y/N’s name, obviously.” Barbara shrugged

“And is that why we are now watching her in a real-time during her date?”

“Most probably.”

“Over my dead body!” Jason hissed “I’m not letting her get hurt again.” and with such words he run out of the cave, in his civil clothes, not caring about anyone or anything else.

“It’s not about her, my ass” Dick smirked

“Aren’t you going to stop him? You were dead  set on it a minute ago.”

“Yeah, but situation has changed. If he does something crazy or stupid Y/N will put him in his place better than I ever could. “

***

“…. And that was when all came running back apologizing for leaving the kettle on.” Tyler ended the joke and Bernard, Tim and Y/N laughed loudly.

For the last hour, he showed himself as a really caring, funny and nice guy with a hell lot of interest and intelligence beyond average. The way he was talking and asking questions about Y/N made her feel both surprised and valued as a person. He did everything to make her feel good and freely in his presence and she liked that. A lot.

“Told you it would be nice” Tim whispered to her, when Tyler excused himself to get some more beverages  “It seems like you are warming up to him.”

“Shut it!” Y/N blushed a bit “he’s just so different from all the guys I know and  it’s nice.”

“Guess you owe me thanks.” Tim grinned

“We’ll see about that.” She smiled back

“Not my place to judge, Y/N, but it’s been a while since I saw you this happy so….?”

“Are you two talking about me behind my back?” Tyler came back and laughed seeing  Tim and Y/N whispering to each other like two gossiping friends in high school

“Obviously.” Y/N kept her cool “all the worst things. I mean, you are so kind and nice, there’s got to be some skeleton in your closet. “

“How about we get out of here so I can show it you?”

“Oh, aren’t you moving fast forward?” despite her best efforts Y/N could not hide the little tremble in her voice

“I’m just kidding, Y/n, relax. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s ok. Just …. Something from the past getting on the surface and clouding my judgement.”

“I’ll be sure not to trigger anything.” Tyler gently touched her hand and her eyes grew wide. That was a sign for Tim to get into action.

“I’ll take you on that offer to get out of here. It’s getting late anyway and we should head home. Busy day tomorrow, right Y/N?”

“What?” she needed a second to get back to reality. “Sure, sure. Busy day. We need to get ready.”

“Very well then. I’ll walk you home, Y/n.” Tyler stood up and once again reached an arm towards her and walking her out the café.

“Aren’t you staying at the manor, tonight? We might need your help with something……” Tim’s voice became a bit concerned.

“ Mhm. Sure, I’ll stay at the manor. From your question I assume you already got us a lift?”

“I did. It should be here soon. We just need to get to the usual picking point.”

“Picking point?” Tyler frowned, a bit confused and Bernard, who was already used to the bats and friends; terminology laughed.

“It’s the place where their driver pick them from” he explained “easy as it is.”

“All right then. I suppose this is goodbye for now?”

“For now?” Y/N asked

“I had a really nice time with you tonight, Y/N. I would love to see you again if you want to….”

“That… that would be nice. I guess. “

“I would call you, but I think it would be best to give you freedom in this area” God, why was he so nice “after all, it’s woman’s choice to give man a chance.” Once again he reached to her hand and with the gentlest of touches brought it to her lips and brushed his lips over it. At this point Y/N was close to fainting but before she could say a single word yelling of her name came from the other side of the street.

“Y/L/N!”

“Holy shit, what the fuck is he doing here? Tim!?”

“I have no idea, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Drake. He’s going to eat you alive!”

“Wait. Who is this guy?” Tyler instinctively came in front of Y/N, covering her with his body “should we run away?”

“The real question is who the fuck are you and what are you doing with Y/L/N?!”

“Jay…..” Y/n’s voice was so cold that it would froze anyone else at the spot. Anyone but Jason Todd.

“Not a word Y/n.”

“Look, dude. I have no idea who you are, but you cannot just talk to her like that!” Tyler became way to defensive for his own good.

“Oh, really?! SO it happens, I am one of the people that protect woman in this city from the scumbags like you!”

“JASON!”

“I told you to keep quiet, Y/N. We are going home, now.”

“You are not the boss of me!” she yelled “I can go out with whoever I want!”

“Is that why you keep me out of your family?” Bernard leaned over to Tim and whispered in his ear.

“Mhm” Tim run a hand through his hair “guys, please don’t make a scene on the street. We all have good intentions here so how about we all calm down, huh?”

“You calm down, Drake. This is none of your business.”

“Actually…..”

“Tim’s right. Enough is enough. I’m sorry Tyler, I’m sorry you had to meet Jason like this. Apparently he is not himself today.” Y/N turned around to look straight into Jace’s face with mix of pain and reproach. “I guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/n. I’m just sorry you are being treated like this. Call me?”

“Sure. I’ll call you” she smiled and with a single nod and murderous glance at Jason Tyler walked away chased by Bernard who already said his goodbyes to Tim.

“You really are gonna call him ?” Jason raised an eyebrow.”

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up Jason Todd.” Y/N’s hissed in the most calm voice she could “get into the car, we’ll talk at the manor.”

***

The way home was the most awkward one ever. There was unusual silence, tones of cold stares and palpable electricity running between Jason and Y/N. The second they reached the destination Tim run away from any possible fight between those two, but being found by Dick and Babs who expected explanations of what happened made his attempt futile.

At the same time Jason and Y/N barely made it to the living room when he started his anger fit.

“What the hell were you thinking!?” he yelled “didn’t you learn anything from the past? From all those guys who made you suffer and depreciated you?!”

“Jason.”

“What?! Why?! Why are you doing it again?! I hate seeing you sad, you know it! And this is how its going to end up!”

“Huh! Like you care at all.”

“I care about your sense of humor. Last time you were feeling under the dog I was stuck with Dick’s dad joke and it was a total disaster.”

“Of course, selfish as always.”

“Were you expecting anything else?”

“No. “

“Ditch this guy before he breaks you like everyone else before!”

“Fuck you, Jace! Tyler is a nice one, unlike many others I knew or…. know.”  their gazes met and the fury and ice in her eyes made him shiver. Was that how she was seeing him? “And if it wasn’t for your interference I might actually have a chance with him. But now, he saw your worst side and maybe…. Maybe that will make him back off.”

“He’s not worth your time.”

“Then who is, Jace?! And why the hell are you interested in my love life all of a sudden? What is your problem, here? Tell me the truth.”

“I told you the truth!”

“Bullshit! You got a tell and I know you are hiding something! So what the fuck is this!”

“I want to protect you!”

“Pro…. Protect me?” she stuttered “from what?”

“The pain. The disappointment. All the bad feelings.”

“Jason” she sighed deeply, becoming calm “come here” Y/n patted a spot next to her on the couch “come on.” He approached her carefully “look at me. I don’t need you to protect me, all right? I’ve spend half of my life in a glass cage created by my parents. The walls of it being all the good intentions. Starting from you know nothing about life, you won’t make it on your own, we are trying to help you here, parents know better. Ugh!  The worst thing was that I was listening and believing them for such a long time. It was years till I escaped and eradicated all the voiced inside my head, telling me that it would be better to run and hide. And I’ve lost so much during those years I was under the command. The realization of it still hurts me sometimes. ”

“Y/N….”

“Hush. Let me finish. I don’t want to go back there. Do you understand me?” he nodded “I can’t go back to hiding. And that is why I don’t need protection. I am perfectly capable of handling myself. “

“I just.. I just…..” Jace muttered

“I know.” Y/N smiled and squeezed his hand “ you want to be helpful. But that is not what I need from you, all right? I need your presence, your friendship, your bantering with me, your opinions and thoughts, but not this. I don’t want the aggressive, unhinged Jason. Can you promise me that?”

“I don’t think I can.” he looked down, unable to meet her honest gaze

“Good.” She chuckled

“What?” that was surprising.

“If you did promise me that, I would know you were dishonest. I know you are still fighting your demons, we all are and what you said just proved to me you are trying to be better but do not make empty promises. So thank you.”

“Oh, please. Don’t get all sappy on me. You know I hate that.”

‘So let go of my hand.” She pointed out raising their joined palms.

“Not yet.” He smirked “it’s the only way to keep you here and prevent you from calling that asshole”

“JASON PETER TODD!”

***

“How long do you think it will take them to realize?”

“given the way they communicate with each other might be years.”

“Don’t you think we should do something about it?”

“Do you have a death wish? If any of them finds out we were messing out with their lifes…..”

“I’m willing to take the risk. Come on, it will be fun.”

“You got very strange definition of the word, Grayson.”

“I knew I would lure you in, Timmy.”

“Don’t call me that!”

@pinksirensong @jasontoddsthickbabe

[riality-check]

Contrary to what her felon of a husband started telling her when the honeymoon phase of their relationship ended, Rebecca Munson is not a stupid bitch.

Well, she’s definitely a bitch, but she ain’t stupid. She’s made bad choices - letting herself get pressured into a shotgun wedding at sixteen to a man five years her senior, havin’ a baby at seventeen at home because she couldn’t afford a hospital, and too many failed attempts at sobriety to count don’t look too good on paper - but she ain’t stupid.

She knew the second that the cops came to their house at two in the damn morning to pick up John that he wasn’t comin’ back. She decided then, after ten G-d awful years of living with him, that she wasn’t comin’ back either.

Her family was across state lines and didn’t much like her since the wedding. But Wayne was two towns over and said to her, over and over again, that his door was always open.

(One Fourth of July, probably when Eddie was six or so, before John realized he wasn’t going to have a little football-loving clone and still humored him by playing tag, Wayne was a few beers in and told Rebecca, point blank, that she deserved to be doing so much better.

“But he’s your brother,” she said, pointedly not looking at the can in Wayne’s hand. It was her first try at staying away from that stuff, and she lasted a full two weeks until her next fight with John.

“That’s how I know you could be doin’ better than him,” Wayne said, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re a good woman, Becca. He ain’t a good man.”

Sometimes, she wondered what her life would be like if she listened to him then, if she didn’t need an arrest warrant to convince her of what she knew, deep in her soul, the second she said “I do.”)

So, that’s where she’s standing now. In front of Wayne’s door, hand poised to knock, Eddie at her side with his headphones on and music cranked loud.

“It’s fuckin’ freezin’,” she murmurs before knocking lightly.

“It’s August, Ma,” Eddie says. Not meanly, but not nicely either. He just says it.

Rebecca almost misses when he was little and tried to warm her up by rubbing his baby palms up and down her arms. She doesn’t miss when he had to call an ambulance for her. She definitely misses when he used to call her “Mama.”

She knocks again. Waits. Tries not to shiver because Wayne will know what that means, and she can’t take pity or rage right now.

She’s fucking trying. This is her trying, this is her quitting, this is her, hopefully, staying sober. 

She doesn’t have John, shitty as he was, to fall back on anymore. Eddie needs her, all of her, so she needs to stay present.

The door opens a crack, then fully. Wayne stands there in his pajamas, sipping on a mug of coffee, looking surprised but not quite.

“John got arrested,” Rebecca says.

Eddie just nods, picks up his bag, and walks right on inside.

Wayne raises his eyebrows. “You know what for?”

“Second degree murder.”

“Jesus H. Christ.”

“And I ain’t payin’ for a lawyer for his sorry ass, so he’ll get some court-appointed schmuck, get sent to hell, and hopefully stay there,” she says brightly.

Wayne snorts and holds the door open for her.

His trailer is small, but they make it work. Eddie gets the bedroom, a notion which he puts up a losing fight to, Rebecca takes a cot they set up in the living room, and Wayne takes the couch. She offers to alternate nights with him, but he waves her off and says it’s fine, it’s comfy enough.

If Wayne liked women (Christmas, 1971, spiked eggnog heavy on the spiked all responsible for her knowing that bit of information) she should’ve married him instead.

He tells her, spotting old track marks and the tooth she lost last winter, that she better not bring any of that shit into the house.

It helps, though maybe not as much as it should. It means she has to rely more on chain-smoking cigarettes and drinking the beer Wayne likes than the variety of harder shit she’s been on and off of since she was seventeen.

Once again, fuck you John Munson.

It doesn’t quell the itch. The first few weeks at Wayne’s are hellish, between the sweats and the shaking and the dry heaving.

But all she has to do is look over at the door to Eddie’s room and remind herself that if she fucks up the same way she’s fucked up countless times throughout her boy’s life, then he has no one.

It’s just barely enough. She’s still drinking way more than she should, enough to not remember when or where she falls asleep, but it’s the longest she’s been off crank, so. Small wins.

She gets a job waitressing at the diner next door to the barber and across the street from the hardware store. It pays alright, and the farmers and miners tip her better if she leaves the first two buttons of her blouse undone.

Men.

Eddie ain’t doin’ much better. The kids at his school are mean sons of bitches, the kind that yank on his hair - he’s always liked it long, and Rebecca really doesn’t give a shit what it looks like as long as it’s clean - and slap his things out of his hands and make fun of the books he reads.

But he’s angry at the world, and he doesn’t take shit from anybody. They leave him alone soon enough, after a couple of fights Rebecca doesn’t blame him for getting into. Between the time he bit a boy’s shoulder after he punched Eddie and called him a fag, and the rumors about his music making him a Satanist - ridiculous, it’s just noise - they give him a wide berth.

He says it’s fine, but Rebecca knows. That boy thrives bein’ around people. Loneliness could kill him straight out.

It’s Wayne who keeps him alive. They fight like hell those first few weeks, the worst of it being when Eddie throws the salt shaker at him and screams about him not being his father.

There’s a new shaker, filled up to the brim, on the table the next day. She checks Eddie’s piggy bank while he’s at school and finds it, predictably, empty.

He’s a good kid. G-d knows if she was in his situation, she’d be angry, too.

Wayne tries to be involved. Tries talking about sports and hunting and other things Eddie doesn’t give a rat’s ass about. When Eddie goes on about the books he reads and the games he plays, Wayne’s face just goes blank.

In the end, it’s the music that does it. Rebecca spends weeks smoking and drinking and walking on eggshells only to find Wayne and Eddie on the couch, hunched over an acoustic guitar and listening to Johnny Cash.

She breathes a sigh of relief.

It’s better after that. There are fewer fights. The trailer is filled with music more often than not. Eddie makes friends.

And, after about a year and a half, Rebecca starts lookin’ to leave.

She’d love to stay here, but she can’t. Wayne was kind enough to take her in, but there ain’t no way in hell she and Eddie can stay forever. It’s time for them to get their own place, to get out of Wayne’s hair, to make a real, permanent life somewhere.

She looks around town, but there aren’t many places to rent, and the ones that can be rented are too expensive for her.

Eddie has been begging for her to let him go get a job, but she keeps putting her foot down. He didn’t get to be a kid when he was one, not with him always taking care of her and taking care to stay out of his father’s way, so he gets to be one now.

She owes him that much and more. So much more.

After a few months, she finds it. It’s a little ad in the paper, so small she almost missed it.

Honey Haven. Five miles outside Hawkins, Indiana. A newly planned, family-friendly community. All are welcome!

The number next to “prices as low as” catches her attention. She dials the phone number, and the sweetest lady picks up, patiently answering all her questions.

It sounds too good to be true. Rebecca tells the lady as much, and she, without hesitation, offers a no strings attached visit.

So, she figures, What the hell?

Part 1, part 2

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Butterflies 🦋✨

Summary; Jason spends more time ignoring you and flirting with other girls than actually being your boyfriend.

Eddie knows he would cherish you like a princess, and as you two grow closer he has no qualms about stepping on Jason's toes to show you that.

Warnings; Fluff, minimal angst, 18+ MDNI

Likes, reblogs are always appreciated ❤️

I don't give anybody permission to copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

For a few weeks now you had been meeting Eddie at his spot in the woods. The first time it happened is because Jason had asked you to get some weed for, giving you the money but refusing to go to Eddie himself.

"You think I would go around talking to that freak?" this made you roll your eyes, yes Jason was your boyfriend but you couldn't stand how judgemental he could be of people who showed even slightly different interests than him.

The two of you had been dating for four months and you were becoming increasingly aware very fast that he wasn't your prince charming... Kiss a few frogs, find a prince so the saying goes.

Maybe that would happen one day you had told yourself.

Eddie is waiting for you, a wide grin spreads across his features and you bound up to him happily, he holds out flowers for you, freshly picked and you beam.

Honestly, you can't remember the last time he bought you flowers. Eddie was always bringing you pretty flowers he found.

"Hi, sorry I'm late, cheer practice ran over, these are beautiful thank you Eddie" he waves of your apology.

"It's fine Princess. Don't worry about it and I was glad to do it, see that pretty smile" you settle down, hiding how pleased that made you and begin to discuss your day.

Eddie tells you about his plans for Hellfire, you tell him about Cheer practice and he's always so guienely interested like you are about Hellfire.

Maybe one day he can show you how to play you suggested last week and he seemed delighted at that.

The thing was you could talk to Eddie about anything and vice versa, he never judged, always listened and never belittled you in any way, you loved being with him.

He made you feel safe, listened to and gave you butterflies every time he smiled at you. Those fucking dimples.

It's just you wish you didn't have to hide your friendship so much.

"It's nice being here with you Eddie, I can understand why you wouldn't want to hang out with your friends though. They don't even know I exist right? Well, I mean they do obviously but not that we hang out" you murmur.

He softens.

"Hey, you think I'm ashamed of you or something? Are you kidding me? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, uncle Wayne, Hellfire and you. I could never be ashamed of you princess"

"I could never be ashamed of you either" you assure him and take his hand in yours.

He swallows "Yeah, we all know what this town thinks of me" you scowl.

"They don't know anything. They don't know how amazing you are Eddie" his breath hitches, your heart skips several beats as he squeezes your hand.

"I know this might be out of line sweetheart, you can tell me if it is but shit, you deserve way better than that butthead Jason"

He's leaning close to you and smiles somewhat shyly.

"I kinda like having something that's mine sweetheart, that is just mine, he hurriedly speaks up, you know us being friends and all"

Oh boy...

I am yours. That's what's you want to say and you mean it because deep down, you aren't happy with Jason at all. He doesn't make you happy but Eddie does.

"You should be with someone who treats you like a princess. Not who treats you like you're dispensable because you're not. You're totally metal sweetheart"

His sweet compliments make you feel all fuzzy and happy. Eddie always made you happy.

Jason treated you either like garbage or some trophy girlfriend and you deserved better than that.

You know what you have to do...Break up with Jason. It's been a long time coming and it would happen whether you were falling for Eddie or not.

It was time.

❤️

Eddie can't stop staring at you, he knows he's in love with you. Big time, and it's exhilarating, terrifying and fucking amazing, he never thought he would fall in love.

Honestly, hookups at dive bars or at metal concerts were as far as he got.

"Dude, are you even listening to me?" Gareth asks him and he smiles as he sees you laugh with Chrissy, Chrissy who upon seeing him stare at you whispers in your ear with a beaming smile on her face and you turn to meet his gaze, looking down shyly as you head outside.

Butterflies, he felt butterflies when you looked his way or smiled at him like that.

He's on his way to Hellfire, you to Cheer practice and he wishes he could speak to you for a little bit but it will have to wait for later.

"Are my eyes deceiving me freak or are you making eyes at my girl?" Jason walks up with the rest of his douchebag squad.

"Your girl? You're full of shit Carver, like you don't fuck around on her when she isn't around, she deserves better than you" Jason pales but catches himself quickly beginning to laugh.

"Like who? You? Don't make me laugh Munson, you're way out of her league and you know it. She doesn't even know you exist"

Jeff and Gareth tug at his arms as he moves closer to Jason.

"Yeah? You don't know anything asshole, I'd treat her like a queen" Jason's smirk disappears.

"What are you in love with her or something?" Eddie doesn't back down from his stare.

"You are aren't you?" Jason sneers and Eddie's fist tightens, he would like nothing more than to punch Jason in his stupid mouth.

"Let me be clear. I haven't gave a fuck about stepping on your toes to show her how she should be treated" Jason backs off, he knows that Eddie isn't fucking around.

"She'd never go for you loser" Jason spits out but one of the basketball players pull him away.

"Come on man, he's a lying asshole"

"Eddie come on dude" he hears Dustin call out to him and he heads to Hellfire still fuming but determined to follow up on what he said to Jason.

❤️❤️✨❤️

Jason gapes as you repeat what you said.

"You want to break up with me? Are you fucking kidding me? I made you, you selfish bitch" Oh please you roll your eyes.

"You made me? Get over yourself. I'm a person not some object. For four months you've gradually treated me more and more like shit and I'm sick of it"

Disbelief colours Jason's features.

"First that freak Munson being in love with you and now this shit. Unbelievable"

It's like time stands still, you barely hear what Jason has to say something along the lines of "no I'm dumping you for Casey Stevens", you couldn't care less.

"Are you even listening to me? I'm dumping you!" he snaps and you nod as you make your way over to where Hellfire is playing barely paying attention to what Jason is yelling at you.

There's cheers as you get to the drama room so that must mean that the campaign has went down well, just like you assured Eddie it would.

He's deep in his DM mode so you wait patiently, watching him enraptured.

Dustin spots you and gestures to Eddie who pauses his eyes lighting up.

"It's okay, finish up and I'll wait here" he winks at you and it sends little shivers of delight all over your body, watching him in his element, doing differing voices as he concludes tonights campaign is so sexy.

He's so sexy and kind, beautiful inside and out and you are anxious to know if what Jason said was true.

When he is finished you head over to him, focus solely on him and not the curious stares you're getting.

"Hey Princess"

"Hi, Jason told me something. We were breaking up at the time so I don't know if he was just messing around, I hope he wasn't"

Eddie tilts his head and there's a knowing look on his gaze.

"What did he say?" well, here goes nothing.

"He told me you're in love with me. Is that true?" he cups your cheek and you lean into his touch.

"Would have preferred to tell you myself sweetheart but yeah, I'm in love with you, hopelessly in love. I'd never hurt you or cheat on you like that dickhead did"

Within seconds you're kissing him and he's kissing you back, you grin.

"I love you too" Eddie briefly lifts you off your feet as he kisses you happily.

"Uh? What the fuck is going on?" Gareth asks and you and Eddie look at each other with identical grins.

"Better sit down dude, this is a long story"

❤️