#literally deep fried drinks

[em0-snail]

I went to this river fair thing earlier today and the guy at the guy at one of the game booths called me a mole rat. Anyways I won this Squirtle with no shell so I put him on my wallet chain

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter six

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

When Eddie lets you down, you find comfort elsewhere.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), accidental creampie, angst

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N:

Happy New Year and happy Wildflower update day! 🥳 I hope you enjoy!

—

Your days at the diner were never interesting. The most action you ever saw was the occasional rude customer you got to throw out. But it wasn’t often (anymore, at least) that Corroded Coffin came in to eat.

Thankfully the restaurant was pretty dead when they came in, but the customers that were there jumped up, asking for autographs the second the four boys walked in the door. The guys were polite, quickly signing some napkins and menus before excusing themselves.

“Hey, pretty lady,” Eddie greeted as he slid into a booth in your section, Gareth, Jeff, and Doug following.

“Hey mama, long time no see,” Gareth said, a knowing look on his face. Eddie kicked him under the table, Gareth hissing a quiet Ow!

You blushed deeply as you handed them each a menu. “You told them?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie said, giving the other boys a look that said please don’t say anything stupid. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you assured him quickly. “He’s…your son, too.”

The words struck Eddie unexpectedly deep, filling him with a sense of warmth and love. He smiled, the confirmation bringing him a sense of pride. “Hey, I was thinking I could come by tonight after you get off? Hang out with you both for a little while?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” you said, smiling at Eddie like he was the only person in the room. “He’d like that. He’s been asking about Ebbie since you left.”

Eddie chuckled. It was definitely cute, and he loved that Asher had been thinking about him, but he couldn’t help but wonder when the title of Dad would be earned. He wanted to be Dad. He wanted Asher to be a Munson. “I’ve missed him too.”

You were happy to hear that. You wanted Eddie and Asher to have a relationship. You never thought the day would come, but now that it had, you realized this was what you had been longing for all along.

“What can I get you guys today?” You asked, pulling out your notepad and pen with your usual customer service smile.

Eddie held his hand up, indicating he wanted to speak first. “Well, are you on the menu?”

The guys at the table all groaned as you rolled your eyes, a blush on your cheeks as you raised a hand to cover the embarrassed smile on your lips. “Oh my god. You did not just say that.”

Eddie didn’t falter. “I mean, all this food looks delicious, but you look better.”

You smacked his arm lightly with the pad of paper. “Eddie Munson!”

The guys all busted out laughing, causing you to join in. Eddie blushed, but never took his eyes off of you.

Eventually, you got orders from all the boys. They ordered practically the whole menu between them, burgers and fries and chicken tenders and just about everything else, including the desserts.

“Okay guys, let me just put this in and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

As you turned and walked away, Eddie watched you. He watched the sway of your hips as you walked, the way your hair hung just right on your shoulders. He watched the way your little uniform dress hugged your curves and showed off your legs. He didn’t think he had a thing for housewives, but the apron was certainly doing something for him.

Gareth snapped him out of his thoughts by literally snapping in his face. “Uh, hello. Earth to Eddie.”

Eddie turned to look at the guys, who were all staring at him. “What?”

Gareth sat back in his seat. “So, what made you not call her for two years? Because you look like you’re about to pounce on her at any second.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to talk about this right now, or ever again, really. He knew how badly he fucked up. He had heard it from everyone endlessly, especially himself. “Gar-“

“Yeah, man, did you need to see her again to remember how hot she is?” Jeff asked with a laugh. “I mean, she always was-“

Eddie smacked a hand down on the table, startling the other guys. “Enough. Don’t talk about her like that.”

It was quiet for a second, then his three bandmates all started laughing.

“Oh, Eddie, man,” Doug said through his laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

As you turned around with the four drinks on your tray, you saw the boys laughing. You couldn’t help the old high school fear that they were laughing at you.

But Eddie also seemed perfectly happy in his new life without you. You wondered if he missed you at all. If he ever thought about you on the road. If he slept with other women.

You reached the table and placed the drinks down, remembering perfectly who had ordered what. “Can I help you guys with anything else right now?” You asked, waitress persona back in place.

“I think we’re good for now,” Gareth answered. You looked at Eddie, but his cheerful expression from earlier was now gone.

“Alright, just let me know if you need anything. I’ll be back with your food shortly.”

Once the lunch rush hit, the diner was packed. Your section was full and you were kept much too busy to worry much about the Corroded Coffin boys, although you did feel bad that their meal kept getting interrupted by over eager fans.

Eventually, you noticed the guys had left. You moved over to their table to clear it off, gathering plates and dishes.

You gasped when you saw the $200 tip that was left for you.

—

“Ebbie coming?” Asher asked for about the millionth time that evening.

“He’s supposed to, buddy,” you told him, fingers tracing through his curls as you eyed the clock again. It was almost bedtime for Asher, and Eddie still hadn’t showed. He was supposed to be here hours ago.

“When?” He asked again.

“I don’t know, Ash,” you admitted, looking down at his big sad brown eyes that reminded you so much of his father’s. “It’s almost bedtime, though. Maybe Eddie will come visit tomorrow?”

“No!” The toddler stamped his foot down, tears welling in his eyes as he looked up at you with all his nearly 2-year-old anger. “No bed! Ebbie.”

Your heart broke for him. You wished you had let it be a surprise, because giving him this hope and then having to take it away was too much. His dad had just come into his life and he was already being unreliable. It made you question the whole thing all over again.

“I’m sorry buddy,” you told him again. “We’ll do something fun tomorrow. Let’s go take a bath and get in your pajamas, huh?”

Reluctantly, the little boy went with you. You ran his bath, playing with him in the water which had him giggling again. You were happy to see him happy, but the ache in your chest over Eddie’s no-show wouldn’t be forgotten.

By the time his bath was over and Asher was dried off and dressed in his Thomas pajamas, he was rubbing his eyes. You tucked him into bed, read him some of his favorite books, and he was already drifting off as you left the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You covered your face with your hands as the tears began to fall. You felt like you had let Asher down yourself, and that’s something you never wanted to do. Something you swore you wouldn’t do. And letting his father do it was something you swore against when Eddie came back into your lives.

You walked into the living room, eyeing the picture frames decorating the hallway as you walked past. The memories had you smiling to yourself. One of them stopped you short - it was you and Steve at Asher’s first birthday, Asher smiling between you. There was so much joy in that photo.

Steve. Steve, who had always been there. Steve, who had never let Asher down a day in his life and would never even dream of it. Steve, who would do anything for both of you.

You had made up your mind by the time you got to the living room. You lifted the phone from the receiver, dialed the familiar number and listened to it ring.

“Hello?” Steve answered after only a few seconds.

“It’s me,” you said through sniffles, wiping away the tears that had managed to fall without you noticing.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, suddenly very serious. “Are you okay? Is Asher okay? Did something happen?”

You huffed a small laugh - it was just such a Steve reaction. “We’re okay. Just…Eddie was supposed to come over tonight, and he never showed up.”

“That asshole,” Steve hissed on the other end of the line. “Why not?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t heard from him.”

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. How did Asher take it?”

“Not well,” you admitted. “He was really upset.”

“That pisses me off,” Steve said, sighing again. “Do you want me to come over?”

“…Would you?” You asked finally, realizing that’s exactly what you wanted right now.

“Of course. I was watching some movies with Robin, but I’ll gladly kick her out.” You heard something thrown at him, then a “Hey!” and some laughter.

“I don’t want to ruin your night-“

“You’re not ruining anything. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled softly to yourself, then hung up the phone.

You wondered if you should make something for you both to eat. It was already 10pm, too late for anything substantial and he probably wasn’t hungry anyway. You settled for taking the cookie dough out of the fridge, lining up the balls of dough on the baking sheet. You were just putting the tray in the oven when the front door opened.

“Hey,” you greeted, wiping your hands on a dish towel. “I’m really happy you came over. I put some cookies in the oven.”

Steve crossed the kitchen quickly, wrapping you in a tight hug within his strong arms. You let yourself melt into the embrace, the feeling of guilt in your chest turning to one of warmth instead. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Of course, you know I’m here any time you need me.” Steve cracked the oven door open, peeking inside. “Nice! Chocolate chip, a classic.”

You giggled as he closed the door, then turned to look at you, leaning against the counter. “Now tell me what happened.”

You recounted the story, starting with Eddie and the guys showing up at the diner. By the time you were done talking, the oven timer was going off. You slipped the oven mitts onto your hands and opened the door, pulling the tray of hot cookies out.

“I can’t believe he would just say he was coming and not show up or call or anything.” Steve shook his head. “These look delicious, by the way.”

Once the cookies were cool, you piled some onto a plate and went to sit on the couch. Steve brought one of the movies he and Robin hadn’t gotten to - Hellraiser - and you started it, although you weren’t paying the most attention as you kept chatting.

The air began to chill the exposed skin of your legs, sending shivers through your body. You pulled a blanket from the back of the couch to spread over your laps. Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you cuddled into his side.

“You know you deserve better than this, right?” Steve whispered.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you and Ash deserve better than someone unreliable. You deserve more than getting stood up.”

You let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I feel like there has to be some reason. Eddie wouldn’t…I don’t know, the Eddie I knew wouldn’t have done this.”

Steve was quiet for a minute. “You haven’t talked to him for years, sweetheart. Things change.”

He was right, but the words made your stomach ache. You didn’t like thinking about the old Eddie, your Eddie, being gone now. But he had a point. You weren’t the same girl he left behind, either.

You pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You were lost in thought, the movie long forgotten.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve said quietly, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek. “You deserve the world.”

“That’s not true-“

“It is,” Steve said firmly. “You’re a beautiful, incredible woman. An amazing mom. Did I mention hot?”

You started laughing then, covering your blushing face with your hands. “Oh my god, stop.”

“I’m serious, though,” Steve said, chuckling lightly. “You are all of those things. I wish you could see your worth. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

He gently grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. Your eyes met his, seeing something behind them you’d never quite seen before. “Steve?”

His gaze flicked down to your lips. His tongue darted out to lick his own, like he was thinking about something. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes widened, completely shocked by his move, but you didn’t push him away. You found you didn’t entirely mind it.

Steve pulled away quickly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

It was completely unexpected. Completely out of nowhere. Steve was your best friend in the world, and it had never been more than that. You had always been off limits, always been Eddie’s girl. But…you weren’t upset at him. It was honestly…nice.

“It’s okay, Stevie…” You trailed a fingertip over his jaw. “I kind of liked it.”

He grinned sheepishly. “You…liked it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted softly. “Maybe we could…do it again?”

Steve smiled at that. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him on the couch. Your hands rested on his biceps, and you both leaned in until your lips were locked together once again.

It was strange, to think it was Steve’s lips on your own. You honestly hadn’t had many experiences outside of Eddie. He was your first boyfriend, and your last. It almost felt wrong, even though you and Eddie hadn’t been together for years, but it also felt right, as cheesy as that sounds.

His hands tightened on your waist as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring your own with an eagerness. He tasted so nice, like peppermint and the cookies you had eaten together. You moaned into the kiss, which made him moan back.

He placed a kiss to the corner of your lips before working over your jawline. When he reached your neck, he began sucking softly at the skin, wanting desperately to mark you up and claim you as his finally, but he knew he couldn’t leave hickies when you’d have to cover them for work and potentially have questions from Asher. So, he restrained himself, moving to a different spot whenever he worried it would start to bruise.

Your head was tilted to the side, eyes closed and soft moans leaving your lips as he devoured you, pulling you as close as you could get to each other. You took it a step further, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him.

You could immediately feel how hard he was beneath you. He knew it, too.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. “You’re just-“

You cut him off by grinding down onto the hardened bulge, making him groan loudly in surprise. You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, laughing quietly. “Shh!” Steve nodded, and you removed your hand.

“Just feels so good,” he mumbled, moving back to kissing your neck. His hands slid around to grab at your ass. He had longed to do that for as long as he could remember, and now that he had his hands on you, it was even better than he pictured in his head all those nights alone. The way your ass fit perfectly in his large hands, the plush of it when he squeezed, it made him impossibly hard.

He moved back up to your lips, kissing you feverishly. You bit down on his bottom lip, and he groaned quietly, his tongue darting out to lick at yours. The kiss had become sloppy, messy, and desperate, all tangled tongues and quiet moans and hands everywhere.

“Steve,” you moaned, his name feeling strange on your tongue in this context. Strange, but nice.

He moaned your name in return, guiding your hips to keep grinding on him. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me cum in my pants like a fucking teenager if you keep doing this.”

You giggled, giving him one last movement along his aching cock before you climbed off of him. He watched you curiously, wondering if you’d changed your mind, and desperately hoping that wasn’t the case.

He realized all his fears were unfounded as you sunk to your knees in front of him, holding eye contact. His eyes widened and his lips parted, hands clenching into fists on the couch cushions.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice raspy as he looked down at you on your knees for him. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You smirked at him as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and began to pull them down. His erection was obvious in his boxers, straining against the thin material like it was begging for you. “I want to,” you said simply. His cock twitched at your answer.

You pulled his boxers down, exposing his hard cock to your hungry eyes. You practically drooled at the sight. He was big. Like, really big.

You wrapped your hand around it, struggling to close your fingers around his girth. He moaned at the contact, his cock twitching again in your hand. You stroked him a couple times, but he was already rock hard. You leaned forward and licked the precum from his tip.

“Sh- shit!” Steve hissed. “You really don’t have to-“ His head fell back as you engulfed his cock in your mouth, his protests turning to groans of pleasure. “Oh fuck.”

You took him deeper, as deep as you could fit him. You were a bit out of practice admittedly, so you kept gagging on him, but he seemed to love that. He fought to keep his eyes open as he watched you suck his cock, not wanting to miss a single second, but the feeling kept making his eyelids flutter closed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moaned, one hand moving to rest on the back of your head. He didn’t force you, everything you were doing to him was like heaven already. “You’re so good at this, oh my god.”

You almost laughed, but managed to keep up your motions instead. You paid extra attention to the underside of his cock with your tongue as you sucked him, sucking hard at the tip every now and then, which made his hips buck up into your mouth with a whiney moan. You gently massaged his balls in your hand as you worshipped his cock. You absolutely loved the way your best friend was falling apart for you, because of you.

His grip on your hair tightened, and you could feel his thighs tensing beneath your hands. You could tell he was getting close, even before he said “Baby, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop-“

You pulled off of him, a string of saliva connecting your plush lips to his dick. He looked at you with an expression of love and adoration and even pain. Like he loved you so much it hurt.

He pulled you to him, kissing you deeply again. He pulled his sweatpants back up. “Fuck. That was amazing,” he said, breathless. “Let’s go to your room?”

You nodded, and then nearly screamed as Steve picked you up bridal style. He carried you quietly to your bedroom and laid you gently on the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, pushing his sweats and boxers back down. He was completely naked before you now, and your eyes roamed over him, enjoying the view maybe a little too much.

He moved for you then, pushing your shirt up as he placed kisses against your stomach, trailing up higher and higher until he reached your breasts. He pushed the shirt up and over your head then wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. Your head fell back against the pillows and you moaned quietly at the feeling of his hot mouth against your sensitive nipples. He gave both equal attention, before kissing back down your body.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Your heart swelled in your chest at his words, but you were quickly distracted when he began pulling your shorts and panties down your legs. Once you were naked, he spread your legs, eyes raking over your body, and especially your pussy, like a man starved.

He laid on his stomach between your legs, hands holding your shaking thighs apart. You were nervous - it had been a long time, and you hadn’t exactly been expecting this to happen.

He flattened his tongue and licked a stripe along your folds. You moaned, a hand covering your mouth to keep yourself quiet, because you weren’t sure if you’d have the self control for this.

“You taste so sweet,” he said, burying his face in your pussy and breathing it in like his favorite cologne. “Your pussy is perfect. Even better than I imagined.”

You didn’t focus too hard on that last part, quickly distracted by his tongue flicking over your clit before he wrapped his lips around it. You gasped, back arching as he began to devour you fully.

You had to grab a pillow and hold it over your face, because you couldn’t control the noises Steve was pulling from your body. You were powerless against the pleasure he was giving you, able to do nothing but ride it like a wave, fingers gripping white knuckled into the pillow case.

Steve was much better than your fingers or any toys. He had your orgasm building quickly, stronger than you’d felt in years. You held the pillow tightly against your face as you cried out when your orgasm hit, hips grinding up against Steve’s greedy mouth. He lapped up every bit of slick hungrily, moaning against your pussy.

When you had come down completely, Steve kissed along your thighs, biting gently on the skin there - he could mark you here, at least, where only he could see. He left light bruises on the inside of your thighs. When he was satisfied he moved up your body again slowly. He kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel his cock hard and insistent against you. You wanted him badly, so badly you couldn’t believe how desperate you felt for him. You were soaking wet, hips grinding against him as you were desperate for him to fill you.

“I- I don’t have a condom,” Steve said like it pained him, looking down at you. “We can stop-“

“No,” you said quickly. You had come this far after not having sex for two years (at least sober, the night with Eddie after the show had also happened), and you really did not want to stop now. “We can keep going. Just pull out.”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Okay.” He reached down, lining himself up at your entrance. You jumped at the feeling at first, so unfamiliar now. And Steve was big. Not that Eddie wasn’t, but…two years. You barely even remembered the hookup.

“I’ll go slow,” Steve said, sensing your apprehension. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, your heart beating hard in your chest. Steve being so sweet was making this easier, but you knew you wouldn’t want him to stop. “I’m ready.”

Steve slowly pushed inside. He only had his tip in when you clenched your eyes shut, fingernails digging into the skin of his biceps.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked quietly, placing gentle kisses along your cheek. He was carefully thrusting in deeper, moving at as slow of a pace as possible. It took every bit of restraint in his body not to pound you into the mattress.

“Yes,” you said, voice quiet. You were slowly adjusting around him, wanting him deeper and deeper. “Please, more.”

Steve groaned against your ear, pressing in deeper until he finally bottomed out. His hips were pressed flush against yours, his cock completely buried in your tight, perfect heat. It was the most incredible thing he’d ever felt.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he moaned. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand above your head as his other arm held him up. “Wanna make you feel so good. Wanna make you cum again, feel you cum around my cock.”

You whimpered at his words, wanting them all to come true. “Please,” you whispered instead.

Steve hummed, pulling his hips back before slowly rolling them into you again. You both moaned at the perfect friction created between you, the way his cock filled you up. Like a piece of you that had been missing.

He set a slow pace to start, rolling his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. The only sounds in the room were the gentle creaking of the bed and the soft breathy moans from both of you. Steve held your hand tightly over your head, your left gripping onto his right arm for leverage.

When he could tell you weren’t in any pain, he sped up his movements, watching your face carefully for any sign you weren’t enjoying yourself. Instead he saw your beautiful features twist in pleasure, pleasure that he was giving you. Only him. Only Steve.

“You’re incredible,” he said, looking down at you with total adoration. “Absolutely incredible.”

You pulled him down into a heated kiss, your left hand moving up to tangle in his hair. He started fucking you faster, skin slapping against yours as he began really pounding into you.

Steve pulled away to watch you again, finding himself addicted to the way you looked when getting fucked. He looked down at where you were joined, watching his cock disappear inside your perfect cunt. He had to look away before he came immediately.

Little “ah-ah-ah!”s were spilling from your lips, making Steve feel like he’d never been so turned on in his entire life. Everything about you was perfect to him. Everything about this was more than he ever dreamed of, alone with his cock in his hand.

“I’m so close, Stevie,” you whined, pulling him close to you. He was fucking you at the perfect angle, cock hitting just the right spot deep inside. Somewhere you could never reach on your own.

“Cum for me, baby, please,” he said, letting go of your hand to reach between you and rub circles on your clit. “Need to feel you cum all around my dick.”

The extra stimulation on your clit combined with the sensation of his cock filling you completely, pressing against your g-spot with every thrust, sent you over the edge a second time. You came hard, burying your face in his neck as you cried out in pleasure.

It was too much for Steve. Your pussy clenched around him over and over as you rode out your orgasm, and it was so good, and you were just so wet and tight, it sent him over the edge himself before he even knew what was happening.

He moaned your name over and over as he came inside you, ropes of his cum coating your walls. You rode each other through your orgasms, bodies intertwined.

It wasn’t until you came down that you both realized what happened. Steve pulled out of you, a look of pure fear on his face. “Jesus, fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m such an idiot. I-I don’t know what happened, I just…”

“Steve,” you said, placing a hand on his arm to calm his panic. “It’s okay. I…I can go to the doctor, get the pill.”

He visibly calmed once you said that. He placed a hand on your thigh, looking at you seriously. “I’ll take you. I’ll pay for it.”

“Okay,” you agreed softly. “Now come cuddle with me. Unless you’re planning to leave?”

“No!” He said quickly. “No, of course not. You’re not…you’re not just some hookup.” He crawled back into the bed with you, leaning against the pillows. He held an arm out and you cuddled against his side.

Your fingertips idly traced along his chest, feeling the softness of his chest hair. Steve played with your hair gently, twirling your curls around his finger. You were close to drifting off.

Your moments of quiet bliss were interrupted by a knock at the door. You both froze, wondering who could possibly be here at this hour. You had an idea, but you didn’t like the thought of it.

The knock sounded at the door again, and you jumped up. “I’ve got to get that before they wake up Asher.” You pulled your panties back on and grabbed the first shirt you saw.

“Wait, I’m coming with you,” Steve said, fumbling for his own pants, but you were already out of the bedroom.

You opened the door, and your fears were confirmed.

“Eddie,” you said, more like a statement. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said in a rush. He was out of breath, like he’d ran here. “We were working in the studio today, and I- I got caught up, and I didn’t realize the time, I was just so caught up in the music and the band that I didn’t think-“

Eddie stopped cold as he looked at something over your shoulder. You turned and saw Steve standing there like a deer in headlights. He was shirtless, only wearing his sweatpants hung low on his hips. It felt like deja vu, only reversed this time.

You turned back to Eddie, who was now looking down at what you were wearing. Steve’s shirt. You hadn’t even noticed what you’d thrown on.

Eddie looked at you with a look of pure horror on his face. You’d think you were still together, like you’d cheated on him with Steve right in front of him. That’s how it felt to Eddie, at least.

“Jesus, what- what did you do?” Eddie asked. His eyes were filled with pain, and even though you weren’t together and you owed him nothing, you felt like the absolute worst person on the planet.

“Ed…”

“Listen man, it’s-“

Eddie held up his hand, silencing the other man. “I…do not want to hear from you right now.”

“Eddie, you’re being unfair,” you said.

“Unfair! How am I being unfair?” Eddie scoffed. He couldn’t even look at the two of you. “I just walked in on you having sex with Steve Harrington-“

“Okay, first of all, you did not walk in on us having sex,” you pointed out. “And second of all, did you forget we’re not together?”

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. Sure, he knew that, but - you’d slept together since he’d been home. It may have been a drunken hookup, but still. You were still kind of his girl, weren’t you? You’d always been. You always would be. Right?

“That doesn’t matter, it’s still-“

“It’s still what?” You asked. “Tell me, Eddie, were you celibate those two years on tour? Or did you fuck groupies after shows while you left me and your son behind?”

Eddie’s face tensed. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know about my son.”

“True,” you said, “but you didn’t answer the other question.”

Eddie stayed silent. It was answer enough. The whole apartment was awkwardly silent, the tension in the air palpable, like a weight over you all.

“You know, you really let Asher down today,” you said. “He was excited to see you. He asked about you all night until he went to bed.”

Eddie’s heart broke. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for that to happen. I never meant to hurt him, or you.” He swallowed. “But does that mean you had to run into the arms of Steve Harrington?”

“Eddie…” you sighed. “I think you should leave. It’s late. We can talk about this later.”

Eddie just looked at you, then to Steve. He shook his head. “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

And with that, he turned and left the apartment, wanting to slam the door but at least having the forethought not to since Asher was asleep. He walked down the hall, down the stairs, to the parking lot. His trusty van was there. He had driven himself this time.

There were so many memories in that van, memories with you. Hell, Asher was probably conceived in the back of the damn thing. Eddie climbed into the front seat and lay his head on the steering wheel.

And he cried.

tag list

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[lanternfeather]

sevika x reader headcanons - cooking together

i love cooking/baking and i feel like normally sevika doesn’t care much for food aside from fueling herself but i would make such good food for her 🥰

• before she meets you, she is very utilitarian about taking care of herself.

• food especially is as simple and quick as possible. she would either get takeout from an undercity food stall or throw some shit together in a bowl and call it a day.

• her stand-by dish is “whatever soup” or “rice with ingredients” - literally whatever she has in her fridge or cupboard, which makes for some interesting combinations, but she isn’t picky and she’s grateful she has food.

• when she gets together with you, you invite her over for a home cooked meal one night. it’s something nice- roasted chicken, crispy potatoes, tender carrots, refreshing salad, thoughtful drinks. she is blown away and feels a deep sense of longing and nostalgia since she hasn’t had food made with love since she was terribly young.

• she comes over for dinner enough that you tease her that she’s here for the food just as much as for you. she scoffs, but you can see that it holds some truth for her.

• you realize that, after watching her get takeout so often and so frequently have a miserably bare kitchen, that she doesn’t really know how to cook.

• sevika definitely isn’t the type of person who is taught by others. but she wants to impress you and learn about your interests. so as long as you frame it as “cooking together” rather than “teaching her to cook”, she is always ready for a lesson.

• she makes a lot of progress very fast- she’s extremely smart after all, and just wants to make you happy and provide for you.

• she is beaming with pride the first time she invites you over to HER place for her own version of a home cooked meal. it’s still pretty basic, but you know it was made with love, and nothing makes you happier.

• forget about baking. sevika does not believe in measuring ingredients or being precise about anything. even though she’s new to cooking, she intuitively measures with her heart. she absolutely loves when you make a sweet treat for her, and loves watching you bake, finding it very endearing.

• i feel like sevika would gravitate toward comfort food a lot. it’s understandable- she’s tired after work, worn out, lonely, bruised, and all she wants is some satisfying greasy fried crispy thing from a food vendor. you show her how to make her favorite comfort foods at home but also somehow cultivate in her a craving for fruits and vegetables.

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ BEACH DAY: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Crocodile is a king, and kings don't fulfill anyone's wishes, unless that someone is you. The small, young and only son of one of the most feared pirates, a child who would never have his desires denied by his father.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Platonic! Crocodile, IT'S NOT A ROMANTIC STORY, Dad! Crocodile, Child! Reader, Male! Child! Reader, difficult childhood due your Dad's business, mentions a lonely childhood, mean children

꒰ WC ꒱ : 995

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Trying to back in my schedule of posting and writing, I'm passing through some bad time with a lot of personal problems so my mind is kinda off for everything, but at least I gonna try to post what I already had (I always say that and never do) anyway enjoy :p

Firstly, your father would be extremely offended if his precious son asked to go to the beach. Dear, your father is the king of the desert and is literally made of sand, why on earth would you want to go to a beach full of stupid people with dirty sand?

Of course, just as Crocodile is unable to refuse your requests every time, what can he do? He spoiled his little boy a little… so soon he's planning a trip to the beach while putting up with you talking about it every day since you as a little child couldn't contain your excitement.

Initially he thought about going to a private beach, he could rent an entire island just to avoid other people, but when you looked at him with those huge puppy eyes saying “but then there won't be other children for me to play with?” He gave up and was at your feet again, bless you, your perfect son who had him wrapped around your finger.

He agreed to go to a public beach, but that doesn't change that he didn't want many people, so he planned to go to a less inhabited island and during a period when there would be fewer people, of course, he made sure the beach was very beautiful and big enough so you can have the most fun. He wasn't ruining her experience for his own selfish limits.

Father of sunscreen, Crocodile doesn't want to see you turning into a pepper, so he makes sure you're completely white from all the sunscreen. It's a little difficult to do this with just one hand, but you were always a patient child and helped your father without any problems, soon you were ready, with your crocodile themed children's swimwear, your colorful floaties and animation for a lifetime.

Crocodile wasn't very excited about swimwear either, so he just wore an open shirt and longer shorts. The problem was that everyone on the beach was staring at the seductive man, was it his fault for being so handsome? Of course, having Daz Bones next to him staring deathly at everyone ensured that no one bothered him, which was perfect for the pirate.

Swimming too deep is a big no, Crocodile can't swim and that means he can't rescue you if you start to sink, not only that, but most of his employees are also Devil Fruit users, which just makes it difficult for him to be sure you will be fine in the water. Now if he goes with you to the beach with a non-user, like Mihawk for example, he may be more comfortable with you going to the deeper parts, accompanied of course.

Crocodile is also very careful about keeping you well hydrated. He knows that children are more sensitive, so he is constantly calling you to drink water, juices or any other liquid. Luckily, you are very obedient and don't waste the chance to drink something delicious, so it was easy to keep it under control. Crocodile also didn't trust just any restaurant or food vendor, so he hired a chef to prepare everything you could want to eat on the beach, whether it was fried fish or ice cream, you had everything at your disposal, prepared by someone you trusted, so Crocodile knew you I wasn't taking any risks.

He gets a little apprehensive when you get close to other children, Crocodile is extremely protective of you. After all, you are his greatest treasure, he would kill and die to prevent you from getting hurt in any way, but when he sees you smiling while playing with the children, he feels his heart relax, in the end, you are still a child, and he doesn't want to in no way to deprive you of having a normal childhood. He already knows how terrible it must be for you to be the son of a pirate, to live on a ship without ever settling on an island for long, the lack of children for you to live with, you can't even go to school, and instead you study with him, his life is not normal like most children and any opportunity he has to give you some moments of a normal childhood he is definitely doing it. He just wants you to grow up happy, regardless of everything.

Now, that doesn't mean he won't be a protective father. All he has to do is see you building your beautiful sandcastle, which he may have helped to stand with his powers without you realizing, when another older child approaches. He is reluctant but doesn't want to act immediately, it's only when the child kicks his castle that he gets angry, then a wave of sand covers the child, knocking him to the ground, the boy has probably swallowed enough sand to never but forget the taste. As soon as the boy runs away crying to his parents, Crocodile rebuilds his entire sandcastle before you can even miss him or cry about it. Your bright smile along with a “thank you daddy” makes it all worth it.

Although he enjoyed the beach day, which basically consisted of him sitting around watching you being a normal kid and having fun and the occasional discussion about business with Daz, the best part for Crocodile is when it starts to get dark, and you're already too tired. He carries you in his arms, using his powers to clean all the sand from your body, you are completely exhausted and sleep like a rock, with the only detail of holding your father's shirt with your small hand.

Crocodile just puts pajamas on you, preferring that you take a shower when you're awake, then he puts you in his bed and covers you. You have a huge smile on your face and are probably having sweet dreams, he watches you for a few moments before leaving to finish some things and then going to sleep.

[koiiiji]

author's note ; i literally feeling like this crying bulldog. you eating healthy because you wanna lose weight, i eat fcking plain food because my stomach takes any fried, junk food, anything that is not boiled as personal offence... we are not the same😔😔 (i'm jealous one)

it's just self inserted, this stuff been my personal pain for past 2 months, so yeah... cheers to everyone suffering from same shit or just dieting ✌🏻😔

Hwangyeon Choi (as worst supporter ever, but best gremlin)

it was saturday evening, and you found yourself seated across from Hwangyeon, watching in half-amusement, half-despair as he polished off his second order of extra-crispy, extra-spicy fried chicken. the smell alone was enough to make you feel a deep, primal longing. you sat with your rice bowl, glancing over at him with big, round eyes as he tore into a piece, all smiles and bliss.

he noticed your stare and grinned, holding up a crispy wing in front of you. “hey, you sure you don’t want to try it? just one little piece?”

you sighed dramatically. “Hwangyeon, my stomach thinks fried food is a personal attack. one bite and i’ll be dying on the couch, moaning about my life choices, and then you’ll feel guilty and be like, ‘i’m so sorry for making you try it.’”

he raised an eyebrow, giving you an exaggerated skeptical look. “me? feel guilty? nah, I’d be fine. i’d be over here with my crispy wing, whispering sweet nothings to it. ‘shh, don’t listen to her, baby. you’re perfect just as you are.’”

you burst out laughing, swatting his arm. “you would be whispering to fried chicken! who’s your real girlfriend here, Hwangyeon?”

he gave the wing an exaggerated kiss before taking another bite, groaning in pure bliss. “this is the love of my life,” he mumbled around a mouthful of chicken. “seriously, it’s a miracle food. crispy, spicy, juicy — how do you not eat this?”

you gave him an amused, knowing look. “i did try it. once. remember? and then i spent the entire next day clutching my stomach in agony, and you looked at me like i’d broken your heart.”

Hwangyeon paused, looking sheepish. “okay, maybe i do remember that. but come on! you’re missing out!”

you leaned back, crossing your arms. “oh, i’m missing out? on what, babe? six hours of burning stomach and that lovely bloated feeling where i can’t button my pants?”

he winced, then grinned. “look, that’s just part of the experience.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands with a dramatic sigh. “evil. pure evil. how do i even tolerate you?”

“easy.” he took another smug bite. “i’m adorable and you’re totally in love with me.”

“bitch” you mumbled, pretending to sulk. “one day, i’ll join you, and you’ll be the one who has to keep up with me.”

he took another bite, savoring it with his eyes closed. “and i am up for the challenge, no problem.”

you picked at your rice, giving him a mock suspicious look. “you know, if you ever do feel guilty, you could totally try some of my healthy, boiled food for a change.”

he stopped mid-bite, looking at you like you’d just suggested he jump off a cliff. “boiled… food? like, with no seasoning?”

you gave him a smirk. “like lightly seasoned. very healthy, good for your stomach, and won’t make you feel like a rock is sitting inside you. you should try it!”

Hwangyeon scrunched up his face, feigning horror. “lightly seasoned? oh no, next you’ll tell me you eat plain rice and drink unsweetened tea.” (no seriously, adding sugar to tea should be legally punished)

you raised your tea glass. “cheers to unsweetened tea.”

he looked scandalized. “i can’t even imagine… what does your stomach have against happiness?”

he picked up another wing, waving it in front of your face with a wicked grin.

and despite the fact that you still craved this chicken, you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Ma Teasoo (as steak king and grumpy old man 'it was better back in my days')

another cozy night in with Taesoo, and as usual, he was happily devouring a mountain of grilled steak and ribs. the savory aroma filled the air, and you couldn’t help but watch him with a mix of longing and amusement. he expertly handled his chopsticks, tearing into a juicy piece of meat, while you poked at your bowl of plain rice and boiled chicken.

Taesoo glanced over, his brow furrowing as he took in your meal. “are you really just having that?” he grumbled, shaking his head. “come on, babe, you should eat more. this isn’t enough to keep you going!”

you crossed your arms defensively. “it’s plenty for me! my stomach can’t handle heavy stuff, and i’m doing just fine with this.”

he let out an exaggerated sigh, his expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “boiled chicken and rice? that’s not real food! how do you expect to be strong? you need some good meat in your life!”

you raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful glare. “and end up feeling awful? no thanks! too much seasoning or salt or oil makes me feel like i’m dying.”

he huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “i just don’t get it! if i had to live on that, i’d be miserable. you’d be happier with a good steak!”

you chuckled, your lips curving into a smirk. “strong enough to be doubled over in pain? i’ll stick with my plain food, thank you very much!”

he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking like a grumpy old man. “you’re too stubborn for your own good. one bite wouldn’t hurt! just imagine the flavor —”

“flavor i can’t handle, Taesoo!” you interrupted, raising your hands as if to ward him off. “i appreciate your concern, but i know what works for my stomach.”

he shook his head, still looking unconvinced. “you know, back in my day, we didn’t eat this rabbit food nonsense. we had real meals! if you were tired, you ate a good meat, and that fixed everything.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his grumbling. “first, babe, what do you mean 'back in my days' you literally just two years older! second, if i ate a steak, i’d be on the couch moaning about my stomach for hours. not exactly my idea of a good time.”

he let out a reluctant chuckle, but his expression softened. “fine, but you’ve gotta promise me you’ll eat something more substantial than plain rice every now and then. just don’t make this a habit!”

you smiled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “deal. i’ll throw in some boiled chicken and veggies. but i get to choose my meals, okay?”

“alright, alright,” he said, still looking a bit grumpy but unable to hide the affection in his eyes. “but i’ll always be ready to sneak some real food into your life when you’re not looking.”

you laughed, knowing full well he meant every word. and despite his gruff demeanor, his caring nature was always there, hidden behind the grumbles and playful complaints.

no but seriously, speaking about this eating topic, i found some good points! i can do separate post if you interested🤓🤔

[trashmouth-richie]

Hi! What about a blurb on Eddie taking care of Tooty post Partum

i love this, hope you enjoy it anon

masterlist

a small kiss sweeps against your neck, soft and sweet, followed by a sleepy little moan.

“good morning, baby.”

you roll over and face him, still adjusting to the pull of the stitches in your abdomen wincing as it feels like your muscles are literally being ripped in half.

you grumble and yawn, “no way the sun is out right now, i just laid her back down.”

he loves your sleepy voice, loves the way your hair is tangled into a mess on top of your head, the way your sleep shirt is twisted under you.

motherhood was his favorite look on you. it fit you perfectly and you wore it well. whenever Eddie seemed to be losing his mind not knowing what was going on when both the babies were crying, you were gentle in explaining to him what they needed.

he chuckles into your neck and you find his lips with eyes still closed, kissing him deep, sighing into his open mouth when his fingers cup your cheek.

Six weeks of late nights and spit up stained shirts— you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Eddie had morphed into the biggest softie, nearly crying himself when you trimmed the babies finger nails, never wanting to lay them down when they were sleeping. Wayne was right, he was the best dad.

“you’re so beautiful,” eddie whispers running his thumb over your cheek bone, “my sweet tooty.”

the butterflies for eddie never stopped fluttering and you never wanted them to, he was perfect. you open your eyes and smile up at him.

he’s completely dressed, keys stuffed into his pocket.

“going to the shop this morning?”

“ ‘m taking the babies to go see grandpa and grandma—” you sit up but large hands put pressure on your arms and lay you back down, “nah uh sweetheart, this is daddy’s day out, you just stay put, rest.”

tears well in your eyes and you aren’t sure if it’s from being so tired and drained from lack of sleep or from pure happiness and the thought of sleeping uninterrupted.

“wh—what if they n-need me?” you sob, tears rolling down your cheeks in an uncontrollable flood.

Eddie’s calm voice shushes you, “baby, I packed everything we might need—bottles, formula, diapers, wipes, socks, extra onesies, burp rags.. we will be more than fine.”

you didn’t think they wouldn’t be, but you sobbed even harder. “—i’m go, ugh Eddie! i’m gonna m-miss them.”

the bed dips where eddie sits next to you, rubbing your back, kissing your temple, “you need sleep, honey. it’s the only way you’ll heal.”

it took some more convincing from eddie, but when the front door shut and tires crunched on the gravel, your tears dried, and you hiccuped yourself to sleep— waking in the late afternoon to the smell of fried food and the smoky scent of eddie’s cologne.

“brought some food home,” he said kissing your lips and holding two large drinks and a bag of food in his arms, “wayne and karen wanted to watch the kids for the night…said I looked like hell and should go home and sleep— can you believe that?”

you smirk and his dimples display in his shit eating grin, “diet coke for the lady, and a regular coke for daddy.”

eddie unravels the slick wrappers from each hamburger, handing you a carton of fries as you sit up in bed, joining you with a burger in his mouth like a dog holding its favorite toy.

“regular coke, huh?” you say taking a small bite from your burger, “damn livin’ life on the edge.”

eddie snorts and swallows his food, “right, might even get real crazy and finish the whole thing.”

“eddie the freak munson still has it, ladies and gentleman.”

Eddie’s eyes cloud dark, a smirk on his lips as he walks his fingers under the sheets, towards your inner thigh— knowing full well that you slept in just panties and that oversized shirt these days.

your breath shifts and you swallow hard when his finger tips graze over your clit, a small little hitch catches in your throat and he grins devilishly, leaning down into you, eyes ripping holes into you, swallowing your bated breath as he moves his fingers underneath your panties, and you welcome him with knees pulled apart.

“oh baby… i never lost it.”

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

I went to the UDGxRaincode collab in Tokyo (twice!) I thought I'd share some pictures here.

This super cute sign was outside! Good thing too, the restaurant was a little hard to find. (The only reason I, the ultimate v3 fan, am not going to the v3 event is because I won't be in Japan anymore when it starts). My favourite thing about going to these events is seeing the people who dress up or bring their themed itabags and plushies, and there were quite a few folks doing that here!

The first day I got Komaru+Yuma fries and red meat set, it's hard to see but the bowl had a deep grey-blue cheese sauce which was pretty cool. On the right is the Servant!Komaeda+Hellsmile shortcake, and the drink was Yakou iced coffee. Genuinely really really good!!

I went back again because I messed up buying merch the first time. You could only buy merch when you ordered food, and the waiter would bring it to you as if it was food. It was actually really funny, watching them bring out just tons of packages on a platter for the people around me who were ordering like at LEAST 40 buttons at the same time. I think they were trying to guarantee their favourites and were going to resell the rest, probably at elevated prices...

My limited Japanese did not help me realize this... Aw well, I wasn't too upset to get to go again!

The second time I got the Monaca+Zilch icecream daifuku and matcha swiss roll cake. It was small but really good! The drink was a Nagisa themed "Caramel blue hawaii" which, I dont really know what that means? It was slightly carbonated, and I don't think I could describe the flavour. Despite not really liking carbonated drinks it was pretty good!

The front of the restaurant had a display for all the merch, so I took some pictures to share:

A "Placemat" (poster) and coasters! The placemat came with the meal, the coaster proportional to how much merch you bought.

Standees and buttons! The holographic buttons are rare and random, mixed in with the rest.

The stickerset was the only piece of merch not blindboxed! It comes with one of all of them. And lastly the acrylic cards.

These are the ones I managed to get! I feel super, super lucky, because Yakou is my favourite Raincode character, Jataro is my favourite Warrior of Hope, and Monaca is just really cool. Literally the only thing I would've wanted differently would've been to swap one of my Yakous for a Servant!Komaeda, but because there's one in the sticker set, I'm still super happy with how my luck ended up!!

No spoilers in the tags! I have not finished Raincode or UDG

[mistyffa]

Experiencing a deep need to make someone irresponsibly fat tonight lol

Cooking is already a big love language for me, and adding that to feedism is just so perfect. I wanna get up at 6:00 AM and fry up an enormous breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, waffles, all dripping with butter and syrup. Gotta make sure you get your nutrients in too, sooo I'll slice up some fruit and douse it in honey, blanch some spinach, put together a few slices of avocado toast, and blend up a protein shake - heavy cream instead of milk, of course. All that and a glass of orange juice should tide you over until noon. By the time you're up, I'll have a buffet's worth of food spread out on the bed around you.

After you're finished, and you've woken up from your post-breakfast food coma, we'll go out on the town so I can show you off. Stop by a few bakeries, who have our order memorized by now, maybe see how many laps you can do around the park before you need a break. Your old gait's been reduced to an awkward waddle, but I'll slow my pace just so I can watch you struggling to move your huge legs past each other with each step.

On the way home, we'd stop at a drive through or two - can't have you going hungry. And once we're finally back, you'd collapse onto the couch, face red and heart pounding. As soon as you're settled in, I'm back to the kitchen, cooking up lunch; grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, a few bags of your favorite chips, a nice creamy chicken Caesar salad, a pint of your favorite ice cream, and a 2 liter of soda.

I've gotta stay trim, so once you're finished and fading off to sleep, I sneak out for a quick run, daydreaming of what I can cook for dinner. When I get home, you're cuddled up on the couch - you take up so much more space than you used to - still half-asleep, watching TV. The soda bottle I left for you has about a quarter left. I'd snuggle up next to you and pop the bottle open. One hand on your supple chin, I tilt your head up, and use the other to pour the rest of the sugary drink down your throat. Even though you're stuffed beyond compare, you don't complain anymore, you know the deal by this point. You take whatever I put in front of you. We'd spend the next couple hours on the couch, fading in and out of sleep, my hand on your belly the whole time, tracing your stretch marks with my nails and gripping your ever-growing rolls.

Dinner time. When you open your eyes, I'm already at the stove, cooking up a storm. Pot roast in the slow cooker, a whole baguette and homemade fries in the oven, dirty rice simmering on the stove. A sheet pan of mac n cheese cools off on the side. Next to it, we've got a bottle of wine and a few neatly rolled joints. All the smells start to lull you back to sleep, and you try to adjust your position on the couch, but nothing is quite comfortable enough due to your enormous legs and gut.

After I'm done cooking and plating everything, I wake you up and slowly guide you to the bedroom. After the first 200 pounds we had to move into a house without stairs; you simply couldn't manage them any more, and the stairwell was becoming a bit of a tight squeeze. I walk you right to the side of the bed and help you up. I take off the slippers you haven't been able to reach in months and help with your shirt too, the latest difficulty to present itself because of your unending gluttony and my unrelenting enabling. I stick a joint between your lips, light it, and make my way to the kitchen to gather the food.

Finally you get a moment of rest, and for a second the thought creeps in that maybe you've taken this all a bit too far, but the smell of the first dish wipes it away in an instant. I want you moving as little as possible, so I'll have you tell me what you want a bite of and feed it to you myself, caressing your tightening belly after each bite. Halfway through the meal, you start to groan about how you can't take anymore, but I shut that down with two glasses of wine and another joint. That seems to put you back in the mood. So, after your smoke break, I start back up, bringing bigger and bigger bites to your lips each time.

When you finally finish, you wipe a bit of melted cheese off your check and lay back with a sigh of relief. I straddle your legs, my toned thighs digging into your flabby ham hocks, and run my hands up and down the side of your massive, swollen gut, pushing lightly to try and give you some relief. As you start to doze off, I notice your eyes shutting and pull a candy bar out of the nightstand. I unwrap it and push it into your mouth, smiling as your lips curl around it. Every bite you take, I push it in a bit further, careful to make sure your mouth is always full. When you take the last bit, I grip your double chin, stare right into your docile eyes, and say

"I'll see you in the morning, hon."

[skzhocomments]

1437 - “I need your help; I have money to pay you.” - Lee Know (Stray Kids) - Hitman AU

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---

1437 - “I need your help; I have money to pay you.” - Lee Know (Stray Kids) - Hitman AU

Word count: 4k words

Wattpad | AO3

~

Writing Prompt 1437: “I need your help; I have money to pay you.” - Lee Know

~

This sucks. Minho thinks, letting out a large sigh and picking up some painkillers.

He hasn’t eaten much today, or the past few days, really, so it probably isn’t a good idea to take another ibuprofen on an empty stomach. He’s surely going to regret it, already feeling an impending stomach ache, but his head just hurts so badly. It won’t stop pounding.

He’s already tried drinking water, but oh, God, the white light coming from the ceiling is making everything worse. He really needs to take this pill.

The one thing he hasn’t tried is sleeping, but how could he sleep when there’s so much work to do?

A new file came in just today.

~

Kim Soo-ah, 25 years old. Picture attached.

Waitress: Mon-Fri 8:00-14:00 Endstreet 34, Cornerstone Diner

Maid: Mon-Sat 16:00-12:00 Client’s residence

Requirements: Eliminate target during Diner shift. Target wears a silver ring, has a small brown mole underneath. Send finger and ring as proof once you finish the job.

~

What did this girl do? Minho wonders. It’s the second request to finish off a maid he’s received from this client, but he was too busy for the first one, so he passed it over to one of his associates.

Although he dislikes working for this particular client, he always pays generously, so this time, he decides to accept it.

He’s a bit curious to know why his client keeps wanting to get rid of his maids. In case they heard something they shouldn’t have, it’d be much easier to silence them through other ways rather than killing them. Less of a hassle for Minho, at least. However, he can’t ask. That’s not his job.

His job is to simply follow these instructions to the best of his abilities and get paid. Nothing more, nothing less. Curiosity has no place in his line of business, and he’s better off not knowing any other details.

Before having enough time to flip the page and look at her photo, though, his door opens, making him raise his eyes from the papers.

“Boss, someone’s here to see you.” His assistant enters the room with haste, making Minho raise an eyebrow.

No one should know of this location, so he is taken aback for a few short moments, before clearing his throat and deciding that he must know who found him, and why.

“Show them in.” Minho instructs, and his assistant rushes outside.

Damn, this fucking white light. He groans again and decides to end his suffering and simply turn on the lamp on his desk, even though he forgot his glasses God knows where and he can barely see the papers in front of him.

Moments later, his assistant comes back with a woman small in stature. She has blonde, wavy hair reaching her shoulders, and her eyes are a deep shade of emerald green.

She is intimidated, Minho observes, as he sees the way this woman is trembling in front of him, anxiously playing with her fingers and looking left and right just to not look him in the eyes.

“Take a seat.” He orders, and the girl is quick to sit down in the chair he offered on the other side of his desk.

“Thank you…” She says, her voice so small, it almost comes out in a whisper.

“Now, who might you be?” Minho asks confidently, his tone slightly bored, although he’s actually brimming with curiosity.

“Uhm… my name is Soo-ah. Kim Soo-ah.” She replies hesitantly, and Minho immediately looks at the papers on his desk and grabs her picture, and oh, what a pleasant surprise.

It’s not every day that the prey comes directly to your doorstep.

“Are you perhaps… Lee Know? And if not… could you please take me to him?” She asks, and Minho raises his eyebrow again.

He notices her clutching her bag tightly. She is quite literally trembling with fear, which makes him want to laugh. She is so painfully afraid of being in the same room as him, he can’t help but want to play with her.

“That would be me.” He replies with a cocky smirk. “Why did you want to see me, pretty?”

“I… uhm… if I understood your… profession… correctly, that must mean you are a… hitman of some sort?” She tries to thread carefully, and Minho can’t help himself anymore. He lets out a chuckle at this girl’s innocence.

“You are correct, doll. So, what brings you here?”

“I need your help. There’s someone I’d like you to… uhm… to k- to kill. I-I have money to pay you. Uhm…” She stutters and starts rummaging through her bag, pulling out a few stacks of rolled hundreds. “I’m not sure how much your services cost, but…”

“How much is in there?” He asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The rolls are far too small, and too few. It can’t be more than a couple thousands, if that.

“Around $3000. It’s not much, but… it’s all I’ve managed to save up so far. If it costs more, I could get a loan, or-”

“$3000?” Minho cuts her off with a laugh. “You can’t be serious!”

The woman’s expression falls, her eyebrows furrowing in a frown.

“Pretty, that much isn’t enough for me to even cut off someone’s finger, let alone kill a whole person.”

“Oh… how much would it be, then?”

“That depends. Who’s the target?”

“My boss…” She clutches the bag tighter, telling him his name and address. Of course, he expected it to be his client, so this doesn’t really surprise him.

“Oh, love.” Minho chuckles again. “That man is one of the most powerful in the country, you must know since you’re working for him. Taking him out would cost millions. You wouldn’t afford it in this lifetime.”

Soo-ah looks away.

“Why don’t you tell me why you want this man dead?”

“I think he’s planning to get rid of me… Actually, I’m sure of it.”

“Why?” Minho inquires further.

“I… I saw something I shouldn’t have.” She replies, clenching her fists.

“Be more explicit, doll.” He says, and Soo-ah shifts in her seat uncomfortably. By her mannerisms, Minho can tell she finds this hard to talk about, or she doesn’t know if she should tell him at all.

She hesitates for a few more moments until she eventually starts speaking again.

“I am a live-in maid… I woke up to go to the bathroom and his room is on the way… the door was opened, and there were some very influential people and a large stack of cash on top of his desk. They saw me, so I ran away and hid. There was this other maid that told me about something she’s seen, and one day, she simply disappeared, so I was scared… I think that's what's going to happen to me too.”

“I see.” Minho nods. “Wrong place wrong time, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“So, how did you find me?”

“Much like last night, I went to the bathroom a few months ago and overheard a conversation-

“Damn, you should really stop going to the bathroom at night.” Minho jokes, cutting her off. She doesn’t seem too amused and resumes immediately.

“I overheard a conversation about hitmen, and my boss told someone a couple of names and addresses.”

“My name? What exactly did he say?”

“Yes. Your name and many others. Lee Know, Hwang, Yongbok…”

“Alright. And this address?”

“Yes. This is the only one I could remember… Considering this… topic… I didn’t really want to hear much else or risk him catching me overhear anything I shouldn’t, so I ran back to my room.” Soo-ah nods, and Minho leans back in his chair.

They found out where he is, which is bad news. Of course, he has many other secret hideouts throughout the city in case something like this would happen, but still. The fact that he didn’t know about it is dangerous. And apparently, this man also has some sort of information about his associates.

This is bad news.

The most relevant thing in his profession is secrecy. If anyone would know where to find him, he would’ve been dead long ago.

“Thank you, Soo-ah. That’s great information you offered me right there. However, just for future reference, information is not free. You just missed out on your chance to negotiate with me.” He chuckles menacingly, and her expression only falls more.

She doesn’t know what to say, but noticing Minho’s piercing gaze on hers, she decides to look him right in the eyes and do something she never thought she would.

She stands up and walks slowly around the desk, his eyes fixed on her, and she kneels in front of him, beginning to tear up.

“Please. I’m begging you. Please help me. I’ll do anything. I… I don’t want to die… I’m so scared, Mister Lee Know. Please.”

Minho is taken aback, and something in his heart stirs at the sight.

Memories he’s long-ago repressed start surfacing back, and instead of seeing her kneeling in front of him, he sees a young boy with bruises all over his body begging for his life.

~

“Mister, please. I’ll do anything. Please help me! I’m begging you, please! I want to live!” Minho was barely able to get out between his tears, his forehead pressing against the cold, bloodied tiles.

“And why would I help you, kid?” The man in front of him laughed. “You’re young and stupid. You’re good for nothing. What can you give me?”

“Anything! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” The man laughed one more. “Will you kill someone for me, then?”

“K-kill? Mister…”

“If you’re not ready to lead such a life, you have no use to me, kid. You’re better off dead.”

“N-no! I will! I will kill! Please teach me what to do, Mister! I will do it!”

“What an obedient child.” The man cackled. “You know what, kiddo? I admire your fighting spirit. Even though life dealt you shitty hands, you still want to live?”

“I do! I want to live, so please…”

“Get up. From now on, your name will be Lee Know. And Lee Know, your first lesson is to never kneel in front of anyone, no matter the reason. That’s how we do things around here. Got it?”

~

“What can you give me, Soo-ah?” He asks, but this time, his voice doesn’t come off amused or menacing. It’s soft and filled with slight concern, and more than anything, with curiosity.

“Anything. I will do anything…” She cries.

“Anything?” Minho asks, and it’s such a contrast to how his former boss treated him. He is not being unnecessarily mean about it, and he is not forcing an answer out of her, although their circumstances are much the same.

He stands up and walks towards her, noticing how bad she’s still shaking.

He knows she’s desperate. However… how desperate is she, really? She’s been trembling ever since she came through the door. It’s clear to him that she doesn’t have it in her to ever be a killer. But still, would she give up her principles to stay alive, or will she stick to them?

He didn’t have the power to stick to his principles on that cursed day way too many years ago, and his whole life changed afterwards. He could never back down.

Would she do the same?

“Anything.” She replies determined, still looking at the floor.

“Will you kill someone for me, then?” Minho asks closing his eyes, his former boss’ words ringing in his head.

“K-kill?” Soo-ah shakes. It’s so difficult to see his past self in this trembling woman.

“If you’re not ready to lead such a life, you have no use to me, Soo-ah. You’re better off dead.”

The words are burning his tongue as he notices all the air disappear from the woman’s lungs.

She begins crying even louder, her hands moving on top of his shoes, holding tightly. Still, she is still not looking up at him.

“I… I can’t. I can’t… I can’t kill anyone. Please understand. I can’t…” She keeps repeating like a broken record, and Minho’s eyes widen.

She decided to stick to her principles, after all. She is better than him.

“Then-” He starts, but she immediately cuts him off.

“He will kill me. I’m so scared… I’m so scared of him, Mister. What can I do if you won’t help me? What if he’ll torture me to find out exactly how much I heard and if I told anyone else? Fuck, what do I do now? My life must be worth at least $3000. Please… please help me…” She speaks weakly, clutching his shoes tighter.

“Soo-ah, look at me.” He requests, but she just keeps shaking and crying.

Minho grabs her arms and helps her stand up, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“Do you really want to live?” He asks, and she nods her head rapidly.

“I do. I want to live.” She cries.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully. I can’t let Kim Soo-ah live.”

“What?” She blinks, confused for a short moment, until it clicks. “Did… did my boss ask you to kill me?”

“He did. I received your file just this morning.” Minho smiles softly, his eyes filled with sadness.

“Then… I guess this is it for me. I was… I was a fool to come here. I thought… I thought I still had a chance…” She replies dejected. “Months ago, when I heard those names, I didn’t think much of it. However, today… I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I ended up coming here and hoped that maybe, just maybe… if I were to randomly pick one of those names...” She stops speaking, wiping away her tears from her cheeks.

“How did you remember my name and address, though? If it was months ago…”

“My memory is pretty good. Not that it matters anymore.” She smiles sadly and averts her gaze. “I came to the wrong person. It’s alright. It’s… If there’s no other way, will you at least make it quick, Mister? I don’t want it to hurt…”

“Soo-ah.” He places his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him again. “I said, I can’t let Kim Soo-ah live. We’re going to kill her tonight, do you understand?”

“I’m… not sure I do.” She tilts her head.

“From this moment forwards, Kim Soo-ah is dead. You will have to change your hair and your eye colour, and I will give you a new name… What about… Lee Saera?” He suggests after thinking for a few moments, his eyes rolling up.

“Lee… Saera?”

“Mhm. Isn’t it pretty?”

“I like it… but… why? Why are you helping me?” She asks, confusion lacing her tone. “Why are you helping me when you’ve been ordered to kill me?”

“Pretty, no one can order me to do anything.” He chuckles. “I was hired to kill you. But let’s just say… there’s something of me I found in you. Something long forgotten…” Minho replies, separating himself from her and putting his hands in his pockets. “I can’t kill your boss, but I can make sure he believes you’re dead, and in return… you will tell me everything you know about him, and everything he knows about us. You will stay here and help me.”

“Mister Lee Know, I can’t… I can’t kill people.” She whispers with a frown.

“And you won’t. You won’t walk down this path. I will do the killing, and you will do everything else I ask you to, in exchange for your life. How does that sound?”

He extends a hand towards her, and she doesn’t hesitate to grab it with both her hands and shake it.

“Thank you, Mister Lee Know. Thank you. Truly.” She looks him in the eyes, and Minho can tell she’s genuinely grateful. A small thought passed through his head that she could be a spy, but her feelings seem so genuine, he doesn’t doubt her one bit. She is just an unfortunate, young woman, who happened to work for the wrong people and heard and saw too much.

“Minho… Call me Minho, Soo-ah.”

“Minho?”

“Mhm. That’s my real name. Lee Minho. Use it only when we’re alone, and I will call you Kim Soo-ah. When anyone else is present, though, you are Saera and I am Lee Know, got it?”

“Yes, sir.” She nods.

“Good girl.” He smiles and pats her head two times. “Now, the first lesson you must learn if you are to join me, is… never kneel in front of anyone, no matter the reason. Not even me. Got it?”

“Okay... But Minho… how will you make my boss think I died?”

“Oh, right.” He sighs, grabbing her hand and dragging his fingers on top of her silver ring, taking it off and looking at the small mole underneath. “Soo-ah, your boss asked me to give him your finger as proof of killing you.”

“My… my finger?” She immediately snatches her hand back and looks at how closely Minho is examining her ring.

“Mhm. However…” Since she is now one of his people, he doesn’t want to hurt her. Not even a scratch. He doesn’t tell her that, though, because he doesn’t think he’ll have a choice.

How should he navigate this? Should he try and find a body with a matching mole? But what if they were to run any DNA tests?

“My ring… is a family heirloom. It’s extremely precious to me.” She speaks, interrupting his train of thoughts. “What if we would burn something and put the ring in the ashes as proof?”

“Oh?” Minho raises an eyebrow. “But what would we tell him to be convincing enough?”

“You found me hiding somewhere, and… I don’t know. You killed me, took my body to be incinerated to remove evidence, but almost got caught, so you burned it and brought back the ashes as proof?”

“I’m not sure that’ll fly with this guy, Soo-ah…”

“Then…” She raises her hand hesitantly in the air, and Minho sees how much she’s trembling. “Cut it… cut it off. It’s okay. It’ll hurt, but I’ll be alive, so…”

He shakes his head. He truly doesn’t want to hurt this woman for some reason. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt like this, not by him, not by anyone.

Still, there’s nothing he can do. Her former boss is a ruthless man, and he won’t believe him one bit if he were to just bring him her ring. He needs more proof than that.

“Soo-ah, will you forgive me if I hurt you deliberately?” He asks after a little while.

“Yes.” She answers without missing a beat. “You spared my life. You can cut it off, Minho. I will survive this.”

Despite her determined words, Minho knows she is just putting on a façade. She is scared, she is shaking, and he feels so bad. He’s never felt like this before, no matter who he had to kill. However, the prospect of causing this woman any sort of physical pain makes him feel terrible. He doesn’t want to do it, but if he is to prove he’s killed her, he must hurt her.

Minho grabs his phone from the desk and calls his assistant to bring in the doctor, and after ending the call, he grabs her hand and holds onto it tightly for a moment.

“I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” He speaks softly as he pulls out a knife from his pocket.

Her whole body is shaking, and she shuts her eyes tight.

“I won’t cut off your whole finger. I’ll only cut off enough skin to use as proof, and I’ll take your ring. Alright?”

“... Yes.” She whispers, anticipating the impending pain.

Minho takes in a deep breath as he presses the blade into her skin, listening closely to Soo-ah’s sounds. She places her other hand on top of her mouth and tries to be as quiet as possible as the blade rips through her skin.

She fights the urge to jerk her hand back, not that it would be possible with Minho’s strong hold of her wrist and finger.

“There. We’re done.” He speaks hurriedly as he grabs a clean cloth and covers her hand, pressing tightly on the wound. “The doctor will be here soon. Are you alright?”

“It hurts so bad.” She cries out in pain and Minho pulls her closer, hugging her tightly.

“It hurts, I know. But you are alive, and that’s all that matters. You are alive.”

“I am alive.” She repeats and hugs him back, and she can’t believe that so much could happen to her in a span of a day.

She wishes she would’ve never applied to that job. She wishes she would’ve never worked for that terrible man, but she got blinded by the large sum of money he offered, and she took the offer without any further thoughts on the matter, and she truly regrets it now. She always seems to only make bad choices.

The doctor comes in and cleans the wound, informing both of them that thankfully, it’s not large enough to require a skin graft. He is able to stitch it shut, although he informs Soo-ah that it will inevitably scar.

A scar is a small price to pay for her life, she thinks.

Left alone once more with Minho, she doesn’t know what to do. She stays silent and tries her hardest to stop crying and observes as he begins clearing off his desk.

“Soo-ah, you can sit down until I’m done.” He informs her, so she nods and heads back to the chair she sat in previously.

“What are you doing?” She asks after a little while.

“We need to go. This place is no longer safe, since your boss knows about it. I will also need to call my associates and let them know they should relocate.”

“And then… what?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“What will happen to me?”

“I told you, haven’t I? We’ll get you a fake ID, change your appearance completely, and then… we’ll see. I still need to think about which tasks to give you, since you’re so…” Minho looks at her and stops, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m so… what?” She tilts her head to the side.

“So… righteous and innocent. I don’t even know what to do with you. You seem like you’d tremble and cry at the slightest mention of a murder.” He replies, and as if on cue, a shiver runs down her spine at the thought of potentially seeing a dead body, and she shakes.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Don’t apologise for being this way, Soo-ah. There’s nothing wrong with you.” He sighs. There really isn’t. Not everyone is made for this life, and he knows it. But unfortunately, some good people are forced into living like this, and she is one of them.

“I’ll do my best to not inconvenience you…”

“You can do some housework or… I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“Or… as I told you, my memory is pretty good. If you’re stumped with work and have too many documents to check, or information about anyone… I can read all of them for you and just summarize. I will certainly remember everything.” She suggests, and Minho smiles softly.

“That's good to know. But for now, let’s just get out of here, hm? We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

“Alright.” She nods and smiles back. "Once we go to the new hideout... you should get some rest, Minho."

"Hm?"

"You seem tired... like you haven't slept in a while." She says, and Minho can't help but smile. She is observant.

"Alright. I'll make sure to sleep once we leave this place." He replies, and she smiles satisfied.

Soo-ah is glad that coming to him ended up being the good choice – the only good choice she’s ever made, she believes. She wonders how she could trust him so much in such a short amount of time.

Still, she trusts him, and he seems to trust her too, and she is alive. That’s all that matters.

~The End~

[iguana-eyanna]

From The Bird's Eye View Chapter 5

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Although you achieved your dream of being a designer, you never considered meeting a man who's also a father.

a/n: This story line has been about 4 years in the making as "The Blood Within Us" was my favorite fic to write. I really wanted to finish the Bruce Wayne saga but I have been facing a lot of writer's block now a days. This current series will have two chapters that will be published in a few months. In the mean time, thank you for reading.

“Tim! You’re going to be late to school!” You yelled, knocking on his door once again. 

As if on cue, Tim was rushing towards his bag and trying to knot a tie for his uniform, murmuring sorry under his breath. 

You paused his power walk to the dining room and did his tie for him.

“I know your nervous about your debate competition tonight, but you don’t need to pull all nighters. Especially since you asked for time off on night patrol.”

“I know, I know. I was just reviewing my notes last night and slept on my desk. Didn’t hear my third alarm.” He said, seeing how you were done with his tie. 

“There. You know, I can teach you how to do it.” You said, walking with him to the table to eat a quick breakfast. Tim grabs a toast and some eggs on his plate.

“Mom, you’re a fashion designer, you’re a literal pro. Besides, you do it better than Bruce.”

“Thanks for the kind words.” Bruce replied, making Tim chuckle nervously. He presses a kiss on your head as he sat down next to you with his fixed plate. 

You look at your son who looked a bit distant as he rushed his breakfast. Call it mother’s intuition but you felt something was wrong.

“It’s time to head to head to school, Master Tim.” Alfred announced as he made his way to the car.

“Bye guys!” Tim yelled out before making his way out before kissing your cheek.

You look over to your son as he rushed his way out from the dining room.

“Is he gonna be okay?” You ask Bruce as he was about to drink from his mug. 

Bruce knows what you meant. About almost four months ago, Tim was captured by the Joker. That monster tormented him, trying to create a replicate of the conniving villain using unspeakable methods. When Bruce and Barbra Gordon saved Tim, the damage was already done. 

Tim went through extensive therapy and had night tremors. Both you and Bruce said to take his time before going back to school, but Tim pressed on, saying he’d be behind on all his school work and the new friends he’s made. But deep down, he just wanted to feel somewhat normal again.

“He’s keeping busy with school. Tim just needs an outlet to just feel like a teenager again. I thought I had to face every struggle when I was his age, I don’t want him to feel like that.” He said, taking a sip.

“I can’t imagine. At least he has you to guide him.”

“He has the both of us.” Bruce reached out for your hand, squeezing it.

You then left Bruce at home so you could go in the office. You were more busy than ever, especially when you were opening a Japan branch in the coming year.

Later on, you got a ping of your phone alerting you it was time for lunch so you left work and traveled farther away from the city.

You walked over in the uneven path. The sun didn’t glare too much and the breeze was soft. You had a small bouquet of flowers in your hands. They were small yellow flowers that had hints of dandelions. You then got off the path to a small patch of grass, now only a few steps away from where you’ve been visiting for sometime.

“Hi, Jason.”

Your son turns around, a bit in a daze as he heard his name. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” He said, turning around. He was about to give you a hug but paused, unsure if the embrace was welcomed. You give him a sympathetic smile and closed the gap between you two, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Sorry, not been used to this in awhile… also, not really sure what I’m doing here.” He said, looking back at the cemetery, staring at his name on the tombstone.

Jason Todd: Friend, Brother, & Son.

Son.

That word felt foreign to him. 

It’s almost been a month since he’s reunited with the family. After days of constant fighting with Bruce under his alias of The Red Hood, it was time to end this never-ending battle of his anger and come back home. 

“I usually come here to clear my head and talk to you.” You said, dusting away the leaves that were on top of the gravestone. 

He knew since his death that you took it the hardest. Even when you took in Tim, that hurt never left your heart. And now that he’s here, you’ve been healing day by day. 

The world knew of Jason’s death. It was featured in every news channel and tabloid. You and Bruce never cleared how he passed and you all decided as a family to have an interview with Lois Lane, who was the only person you trust for the most fragile time in your family. 

And people bought that he was in a protection detail of some sort, but for some reason… it didn’t sit right with you. It was like no one cared that he was gone for so long and could magically appear like nothing has happened. 

You try to have him open up, but he didn’t want to have you bear all his pain for him.

But isn’t that’s what a mother should do for her child?

“You know your room is always there for you, right?” You ask Jason as you turned to him. He’s been crashing most nights with Roy Harper, as they had a scuffle the first time they met again, but had a tearful reunion with each other.

“I know, but I think it’s time if I found a place for myself. Dick is helping me find some apartments in Blüdhaven. But I’ll pop in time to time to be with you guys.”

You smile at him, giving him a comforting side hug. 

“You always have a home with us.”

He smiles as he kisses the top of your head as he was now much taller than you.

“C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

+

Bruce looks down at his desk in his study room, looking down in his hands that held a small leather box. 

“Master Bruce?” 

Bruce looks up and sees Alfred alone, and Bruce released the breath he was holding onto nervously.

“Has the package arrive yet?” Alfred asks, locking the door before heading towards him.

Bruce softly smiles as he shakes his head yes, giving Alfred the small box.

“Just came after she left, I’ve been anxious for weeks.” 

“Well, it’s not every day Gotham’s most famous bachelor would one day be off the market.” Alfred teased as Bruce opens the box, revealing the engagement ring for you. 

“That’s why I bought out the restaurant where we had our fifth date.”

“Fifth date?” Alfred asks, sitting down opposite of Bruce.

“Well, first date wasn’t an official date, second one we had Dick join us to go to that ice cream parlor, third I had to cancel halfway due to Clayface III, fourth we had movie night at her place and fifth… it was when I realized that things can be different.” 

Bruce admits that starting a relationship with you, he didn’t have the right intentions. He could never deserve the love you give him. He swore that he’ll make it his life’s mission to make up every mistake that has affected you.

And almost after 8 1/2 years later, he’s finally decided to ask you to marry him. Yes, Bruce could have asked you many times before hand but there has been so many set backs and memories you both wish to forget, but he feels now is the most perfect time to start a new chapter with you.

“Where is she now?” Alfred asks.

“Getting lunch with Jason, he just sent me a message just now.”

“So you and Master Todd are talking again?” Alfred asks, knowing things haven’t been easy with son and father.

“We’re uh, slowly getting there. He even asked if he could spar with Tim tonight.”

“I don’t think that’ll be such a good idea.” Alfred warned.

Alfred has seen how Tim’s been reacting lately since Jason’s arrival. Tim has been questioning what’s his place would be now that the prodigal son has returned, and better yet, what his status is in this family.

“We’ll all have a talk afterwards. Everything is going to change tonight.” Bruce said, with hope in his eyes.

Alfred gave a small smile and got up, heading out of the office. 

“Indeed it will, sir.”

Meanwhile, you and Jason just came back to the manor as you mentioned that Bruce was taking you out for dinner tonight. It’s been awhile since it’s been the two of you, so you were very excited. 

Jason, for some reason, became silent once you arrived back home. Before you go up on the steps, you look over at Jason who was staring down in his lap.

“You’ve awfully been quiet recently.” You said, looking at your son.

Jason purses his lips and looks at you with uncertainty. 

“I know I’ve been keeping some stuff about what’s happened to me in the last few years. I just, don’t know how to tell you without breaking your heart again.”

You raise your hand up to his and squeeze his hand.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, Jay. Ever since you’ve been back, I feel like something is going to rip the carpet under me and I’ll lose you again. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

Jason sniffles and wipes away his watery eyes. 

“Thank you.” Jason replied.

You smile at him gently and hug him.

“I uh, heard you’re gonna be hanging out with Tim tonight. I think that’s great that the two of you can talk for real this time, maybe having a big brother would help him move forward.” You stated.

Jason just nods his head, knowing what you meant.

He then followed you inside and headed straight to the bat cave, awaiting for Tim. In ten minutes, the young Drake boy looked uneasy, like he was about to meet his creator. 

“H-Hey.” Tim said, shifting on his bare feet as he entered the bottom of the bat cave.

Tim has been dreading this day.

Sparring with Bruce and Dick benefited Tim’s fighting skills. Bruce taught him calculation and timing. Dick supported encouragement and using your instincts. 

But Jason? In his time as Red Hood, he has killed men, mercenaries, you name it. And now that Jason was here ready to fight, Tim was scared that maybe Jason would use all his anger on him.

Jason bandaged his hands and took off his shirts. Every inch of his skin was etched with faded scars and bullet wounds. Tim gulped loudly as he prepped his stance.

In an instant, Jason charged first, taking Tim off guard.

“Hey! We didn’t start yet!” Tim yelled out, being knocked down on the ground.

“Lesson one, Drake: A fight can happen any time, any place. Never lose your guard.” Jason offered his hand. As Tim received it, Jason lifted him off the ground and body slammed him opposite of where he laid.

“Lesson two: never trust if your opponent has mercy. Always protect yourself.” 

Tim huffed out loud before jumping on his feet, wiping away the sweat and the cut on his brow. 

Jason looked too calm for this spar. Not an inch of his hair was out of place, even his white streak by his widow’s peak shown brightly in the dark cave.

Tim ran forward, striking with his right fist. Out of nowhere, Jason took out a small ninja star and flicked it towards Tim’s face. Just in time, Tim ducked it and body rolled on the mat, looking at Jason like a mad man.

“Are you out of your mind?” Tim screamed out loud.

“Lesson three: Be resourceful. Take anything in reach to your advantage. Bruce didn’t teach you these things?” Jason asked, circling Tim like a vulture flying around its prey.

“Bruce taught me how to sharpen my hacking skills, how to control my body in duress.” 

Jason scoffed as he looked at Tim. 

“I thought you had something in you, but I was wrong. What kind of Robin are you?”

That statement broke Tim as he tightened his fists and struck Jason in the chest. Jason staggered a little and looked at Tim, smirking.

“There he is!” Jason yelled out, almost mechanically.

Tim furrowed his brow and took a punch again to Jason’s shoulder. Jason looked like he was enjoying this little fight and took another punch from Tim.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Tim asked, getting frustrated.

“I wanna see what you can do, surprise me.” Jason smiled wickedly, raising his fist.

The two of them began to strike again, wanting to know who the last man will stand.

+

“It’s been awhile since we had a date night.” You said, holding Bruce’s hand as you two were being driven by Alfred to your mystery date. 

“I know, a lot has happened and I thought the two of us deserve some time together.” Bruce said, rubbing his thumb across your thigh from the slit of your dress.

“And what would our time be spent on tonight?” You ask, gleaming.

“A night of your favorite cuisine, soft music in the background, and a melted chocolate soufflé.” Bruce replied, leaning in for a kiss.

You smiled as you kissed Bruce, losing your hand in his dark ravenous hair. You could feel his hands in the back of your dress, trying to find the zipper by your spine.

“Bruce…” You warned as you felt his lips by your neck.

“We have until 15 minutes till we get to the restaurant. I just want you to myself for just a little bit.” He whispers, feeling his hot breath by your ear.

“I bet you won’t last for 8 minutes.” You dared.

“Make it 6”  Bruce remarked, seeing a sly look in his hand.

You two smiled as you both couldn’t help but take your hands off each other.

A knock is heard from the driver’s cabin, alerting that Alfred could possibly hear every word you’re saying. 

You cover your mouth in embarrassment as Bruce couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

“Why don’t we wait after tonight?” You ask Bruce, straightening up in your seat.

“Of course, I’ll behave just for you.” Bruce reaches out for your hand, kissing it as you blushed.

Your fingers intertwined with each other as you look lovingly in each other’s eyes.

+

The two sons were getting tired. Jason was heaving his chest, as Tim may have bruised ribs from being kicked a few times too many.

Tim, now sporting a deeper cut by his temple, tries to wipe the trickling blood from his forehead with his arm. Tim refuses to back down, especially to Jason. An idea pops in his head and he slowly circles around Jason, taunting him.

“What makes you think you could be capable of teaching me to fight?” Tim asks.

Jason huffs and gives a wicked smirk. “If you’ve forgotten already, I have a reputation. Nothing gets past me.”

“You sure about that? Heard when you were Robin, you had no control, no conscience. Just chaos at every turn you made.”

Tim caught a glimpse of Jason’s tough exterior slowly cracking. Jason resumed in silencing, alerting Tim that his tactic might work. So, he took his chance and punched Jason by his left cheekbone.

“Did I strike a nerve?” Tim asks.

Jason was silent, but his eyes grown darker from their natural color. 

Tim almost felt worried, but he knew Jason would never do anything that could hurt him seriously.

Right?

“If we’re striking nerves, I wanted to clarify that I’m only here cause Ma asked me to come. Said she’s worried about you. But I see it in Bruce’s face. He thinks you’ll never be ready to go out on the field again. And frankly, I don’t think you’re able to.”

“Who says you have the final say? You just showed up to Gotham out of the blue just to prove that you’re what, the prodigal son? Please, I survived the Joker. You were overpowered by a man with no powers or strength. He was smart enough to end the job quick with you.”

A ripple soared through the air as Tim found himself on the ground as he held his left jaw as Jason was huffing his chest, breathing heavily.

Jason could only be described like a raging animal, as his dark past was catching up to him.

He grabbed Tim by the collar and raised him high as his feet dangled in the air. 

Right when Jason was about to make the first strike, he suddenly hears maniacal laughter.

‘Show him who you truly are…’ the voice sneered.

Jason staggered away as he dropped Tim, feeling his head pound. 

“Get out…” Jason held onto the sparring mat as he grit his teeth.

“J-Jason, are you alright?” Tim asks as he holds his side.

Jason whipped his head fiercely as he bear his teeth. 

“I SAID GET OUT!”

Tim took an immediate step back with fear in his eyes. Jason can see it to you as he forced his eye sight downward as he was crouched on the floor.

“You don’t know what it’s like… to have everything you ever wanted taken away in a single second. I tried protecting my birth mom by taking every beating that demon gave to me. I tried saving her from that bomb. I felt myself dying at an instant. Then I come back with half a mind of my own, still hearing that psychotic man’s voice in my head.”

Tim can see Jason almost crying as his shoulders were slumped.

Tim treaded lightly towards Jason as he slowly got on his knees, then slowly placing a hand on Jason’s shoulder. The older brother almost flinched with physical contact, but it was when he looked up to Tim who’s eyes weren’t full of fear but with sympathy. 

The two brothers get up from the sparring mat as Jason gave a heartfelt hug. Tim was shocked at first, but accepted the embrace.

“Amateurs, all of you.” A young voice said out loud.

Jason and Tim looked around their surroundings, searching for the voice.

Tim picked up a sparring bo staff and defended his ground.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” 

A quiet whip like sound pierced the wind as a small shadow lands a couple of feet by them. 

The figure wore dark ancient clothing, asian descent if Tim could describe it. The stranger lifted their mask off and revealed a boy, much younger than both the brothers.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked harshly as he shoved past Tim.

“Mother is on an important mission. I wished to join her but she told me to come here and meet father.”

“Wait wait wait, you know this kid?” Tim asks, lowering his staff. 

The young figure sneered from the last statement.

“I am to be respected and feared, my age does not limit my lethal skills, Tim Drake.” 

Tim had enough and tries striking his opponent but he swiftly moved out of his way and swept Tim off his balance, just like Jason has performed before.

“And he calls himself the smart one.” The child comments.

“Look demon spawn, no one picks on Drake unless me, okay? And you have shown up on the worst night possible. Bruce isn’t here.”

“I have waited for almost 10 years to meet him, what’s another hour?” 

Tim rises up from the mat as he looks at the child.

“Why do you want to meet Bruce?” 

“Because he’s my father.” The child crosses his arms

Silence filled the cave. Not even a gust of wind dare to make a whistling sound. 

Tim looks at Jason for confirmation as the elder brother bows his head.

“Then who’s your mom?” Tim dares to ask.

Damien beams with pride as he steps closer to Tim.

“Someone you should be very afraid of.”

+

After you and Bruce finished your very intimate dinner, your heart began to flutter.

"Bruce, you know that you didn't have to reserve all of the restaurant just so we could have dinner alone?"

You said, sipping your wine.

"Of course not, that's why I bought the restaurant from the owner."

"Bruce!"

You two started laughing out loud as you knew that Bruce wasn't serious. If you just met Bruce now, you'd think he's this pompous rich guy. You told him first on that he didn't need to impress you with grand gestures or money. As long as you two worked as a team who gave back to their community and their family, then you never had to question his love for you.

Those were all the things Bruce was thinking of saying to you tonight.

"What's in that mysterious mind of yours?" You ask.

He smiles to himself as he softly held your hand in his, feeling his chest tighten with slight anxiousness.

"There's been something I've been wanting to say to you for some time..."

He was about to get out of his chair until his phone buzzed. He looks at the caller and sees that it's Tim.

Bruce powers his phone off, thinking it wouldn't be important.

"Everything alright?" You ask.

"Yeah, absolutely. Where was I?"

"You wanted to tell me something." You said, trying to suppress a smile of your sudden excitement.

Bruce reaches for your hand and kisses your palm, giving you the most genuine gaze you haven't seen in a while.

"I have been wanting to do this for the longest time. Love, I-"

A sudden ring is heard from your phone as you reach towards your purse.

"It's Jason. I think the kids have been trying to reach us."

"They're fine, trust me." Bruce tries to change the subject but you shake your head.

"I don't know Bruce, something feels wrong."

You answer your phone as you place it towards your ear.

"Hi honey, we just finished eating dinner. What - J - You want to talk to Bruce?"

Bruce face turns shocked as you offer your phone to him.

"Jason, now's not a good time." Bruce says.

"Bruce, I wouldn't have called you unless it was important. You need to come back to the manor now." Jason said.

"Did you tell him yet?" Tim asks from afar but then his two sons started bickering.

"Guys, what are you two trying to say? Hold on." Bruce taps the screen and places it on speaker as he stood up facing away from your nervous state.

Tim takes over the conversation as he steals the phone from Jason.

"Bruce, some kid broke into the cave while we were sparring saying he's-"

"Wait, a kid broke into the cave? Why are you and Jason fighting?" You ask, raising form your chair.

"It's fine, I told them it's alright."

"Uh, I don't think so. Tim's still recovering from the last fight he's had and you left them both unsupervised!"

"They're fine, but can we handle the situation at hand? You're the one that wanted to call them back."

"And now you're blaming me for caring? Well excuse me for-"

"I tire of this nonsense." An unfamiliar voice said as they possibly took the phone away from the bickering siblings.

"Bruce Wayne, my name is Damian al Ghul, son of Talia al Ghul and grandson of the powerful Ra's al Ghul. I am your rightful heir, your true blood son, conceived from 8 years ago when you were on a mission with my mother."

Silence filled both rooms.

"Perhaps the connection disconnected?" Damian asks the brothers.

"Nope, he heard." Jason said as the call suddenly ended.

Bruce looks at the phone, then back at you as your eyes filled with tears of betrayal.

Bruce tries to go up to you, feeling his throat tighten.

"Love, I-"

"Stop, please." You said, moving backwards as your voice lowers.

"I think its best we go back to the manor. Let's just talk later, okay?"

You try to smile but it failed as your eyesight was lost in more tears.

You leave Bruce standing there alone as you walked to the limo that was waiting outside.

"Hello Madame, I guess a congratulations are in order?" Alfred asks cheerfully as he turned back to you.

His face fell as he saw you trying to cover your tears with your left hand that had no ring. You couldn't even muster a sentence to the one person that has your one interest at heart for this night.

Alfred bowed his head in silence until Bruce came inside and sat far from you as you couldn't even look at him.

"Where to, Master Bruce?" Alfred asks.

"Home, there's someone expecting to see me."

"Who sir?"

Bruce felt hesitant to answer, but then he locked his gaze to the window.

"My son, Damian."

Taglist:

@thisnameistaken1234

@linora09

[cera-writes]

A Bite of the Big Easy — A Remy LeBeau Vampire AU pt. 1 🩸

Hoooookay! Here's the first chapter of the Vampire!AU. Not gonna lie, this was fun as hell to write. FYI, This is set in a modern day setting>

Pairing: Remy LeBeau x F!Reader

Tags: alcohol, violence, swearing, mentions of infidelity, a bit of fluff

Prompt: Reader is spending her bachelorette weekend down in New Orleans with her bridesmaids. She meets a mysterious stranger with a Cajun flair that shakes things up for her. But will it be more than what she bargained for?

The rhythmic pulse of the music thrummed through the thick New Orleans air, vibrating the cobblestones beneath your dancing feet. It was your bachelorette weekend, and Bourbon Street was a sensory overload in the best way possible. The air hung heavy with the scent of spilled daiquiris and fried seafood, punctuated by the melodic wail of a lone saxophone from a nearby balcony.

You and your girlfriends, a symphony of tipsy laughter in too tight clothing, were jammed into a corner booth at Fat Catz, a legendary French Quarter nightclub. The stage was a riot of color, a burlesque troupe shimmying and swirling under the flickering red light. You were three drinks in, the potent sweetness of a Sazerac warming your stomach, when a slow, bluesy number began.

"This one's for the dreamers," the sultry voice of the emcee announced.

Your girlfriends squealed, grabbing your arms and pulling you towards the dance floor. But before you could join them, a deep, accented voice cut through the music.

You were blissfully unaware that there were a pair of eyes watching you. You didn't have time to really react until a smooth creole voice like velvet rang in your ears amidst the vibrating music.

"Mind if I cut in, cher?"

You turned to find a man standing beside you. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with somewhat long, pretty reddish brown hair that gleamed under the dim lights. His eyes, a startling hue of what looked like the color crimson, held a hint of something ancient, something that sent a shiver down your spine despite the humid night air bellowing inside the door as patrons entered and exited the bar.

"I, uh…" you stammered, momentarily flustered by his undeniable charm.

He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Don't worry, mon ami. I won't tread on your toes, not literally. Name's Remy. Remy LeBeau."

He extended a hand, amusement dancing in his eyes. You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, an electric current that left you breathless.

Wait. This shouldn't be happening. What would your fiance think? Hell, to be honest, he was probably with his buddies back home having the times of their lives... preferably at a strip joint. One dance couldn't hurt.

As he led you onto the dance floor, you stole a glance at his profile. There was something about him, an aura of mystery that you found utterly captivating.

"You seem like a woman with a story," he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent shivers down your spine.

"Well, um, I'm actually here with my bridesmaids." You sheepishly smiled, nodding over to them as they swayed tipsy on the dancefloor across from the two of you. Remy was certainly beautiful in a strange sense. But there was something odd about him too. His touch was cool, almost like ice as he placed a hand on the skin of your back. You were just wearing a pair of skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a backless tank top. So when he'd placed his hand there, it nearly made you jump from how ice cold it was.

He made sure to spin you around, twirling you under the muse of the jazz band playing as they took the stage. You felt dizzy, like this was some sort of ritual.

—

Remy's POV

—

A flicker of amusement danced in my crimson eyes as you stammered, your cheeks flushed a charming shade of rose. The scent of honeysuckle and something altogether more intoxicating, a nervous energy perhaps, swirled around you. It had been centuries since I'd indulged in such a human pastime as dancing, but the way you moved, lost in the music, was a melody I couldn't resist.

"Ah, bachelorette festivities, cher," I murmured, my voice a low caress. These nights in the French Quarter were ripe with opportunities, mortals seeking a taste of something forbidden before settling into their preordained lives. But there was something different about you, a spark of defiance in your eyes that intrigued me far more than the usual bachelorette bravado.

"Your friends seem to be enjoying themselves," I continued, watching your gaze flit between me and your giggling companions.

The scent of guilt mingled with the honeysuckle as you bit your lip. This innocent flirtation, fueled by the music and the carefree spirit of the night, was clearly a delicious transgression for you.

"They are," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "But something about you..." The sentence trailed off, leaving a delightful space for unspoken curiosity.

A slow deliberate smile spread across my lips. This little dance had just begun, cher. And in the heart of the pulsating French Quarter, under the cloak of anonymity, I planned to savor every step.

—

Your POV

—

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, yanking you out of Remy's gaze for a sec as you paused your little dance with him. Pulling it out, you saw a text from your fiance.

"Hey beautiful! Having a blast in NOLA? Miss you already! -A"

A stab of guilt hit you. You should be texting back excitedly about daiquiris and burlesque shows, not secretly flirting with a handsome stranger, nor entertaining him with a dance. But Remy's amusement was a delicious lure.

With surprising speed, you typed a reply to your fiance. "Hey hon! Havin' a great time! Dancin' the night away with the girls. Miss you too! See ya soon! 🫶."

Shoving the phone back in your pocket, you looked for a quick excuse to clear your head. Remy's lips quirked up in a knowing smile. "Someone important, cher?" he drawled.

"Hold that thought, I've drank too much and need to use the restroom," you waved it off, cheeks flushed from a rush of adrenaline.

—

Fiance's POV

—

The silk sheets felt like a decadent shroud around Alex, the remnants of their hurried encounter clinging to the air. A satisfied smile curved his lips as he reread your text. "Having a great time! Lots of dancing and fun with the girls. Miss you too! See you soon! 🫶". Everything seemed perfect. The carefully crafted response, the reassurance, the subtle reminder of your impending return. It was a well-rehearsed dance they performed every time you went out with your friends.

Alex tucked his phone away, the soft glow of the screen momentarily illuminating the woman sprawled languidly beside him. Her blonde hair, a tangled mess across the pillow, framed a face flushed with desire. A throaty chuckle escaped her lips, and Alex felt a pang of excitement shoot through him. This stolen moment, this secret affair, was a world away from the life he was about to return to – a life filled with your predictable smiles and picture-perfect expectations.

He knew it was wrong, a gnawing betrayal that twisted in his gut. But the illicit thrill, the intoxicating novelty of it all, was a potent aphrodisiac. Alex traced a finger down the woman's arm, the touch sending shivers down her spine. He reveled in the feeling of being desired, a stark contrast to the comfortable routine he shared with you.

Pushing the guilt down deep, Alex closed the distance between them, the woman's eager embrace momentarily erasing the echo of your name on his lips. Little did you know, the life you were about to return to wasn't nearly as picture-perfect as you believed.

—

Your POV

—

You squeezed your way back through the dense crowd, phone clutched tightly in your hand. The fleeting escape to the restroom offered a moment to clear your head, but the lingering guilt over your conversation with Remy gnawed at you.

Just as you rounded a corner, Remy, his back to you, was surrounded by your bridesmaids, their laughter a touch too loud for your taste. You shouldn't have cared who Remy was talking to, yet a strange possessiveness bubbled within you.

If anything, your bridesmaids had every chance to go home with him, but you were taken. You shouldn't be feeling any sense of jealousy. You literally had no cause to feel the way you did, yet you couldn't help it and it irritated the hell out of you.

You. Had. A. Fiance.

Then, as if sensing your presence, Remy's posture shifted. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your gaze directly. A silent excuse passed between your eyes, and with a smooth word to your bridesmaids, he excused himself.

The crowd parted for him as he effortlessly weaved his way towards you, a secret smile playing on his lips. "There you are, cher," he murmured, his voice a delicious caress. "Ready to pick up where we left off?"

"Um, actually, I think I better be retiring for the night. It's getting late and my hotel isn't too far from here." You replied, glimpsing back towards your bridesmaids. They were ordering even more drinks at the bar, like they hadn't had enough already. But who were you to tell them not to have a good time?

"Thank you for the dance. It was fun," you quickly flashed Remy a smile before turning on your heel to at least tell your friends that you were headed back to the hotel. It was only three blocks away. Surely you'd be fine making the walk back. You had your trusty pepper spray on you, tucked into your other back pocket just in case some asshole tried something tonight on your way back.

Guilt gnawed at you as you weaved through the throng of French Quarter partiers spilling out of the bar. You shouldn't have cared that Remy was surrounded by your friends, and yet, a strange possessiveness bubbled up. You quickly shook your head, ignoring that stupid thought away.

It really shouldn't have mattered to you. They were a bit too tipsy to really stop you from making the trip alone, but honestly you needed some peace and quiet after what had just happened. You were sure he'd resort to flirting with them after you left anyway. And that was none of your business if they wanted to go back to his place for the night. You all knew what you were getting into on this trip.

The fresh air would clear your head and the walk back to your hotel would help sober you up. Slipping out of the bar unnoticed, you felt a strange sense of relief when the throng of bodies thinned and the sounds of drunken laughter faded as you finally turned the corner from the ever so rowdy, raucous Bourbon Street.

The night was thick and humid, the dimly lit streets casting long, menacing shadows. New Orleans really did have a haunting feel to it late at night.

You quickened your pace, the rhythmic click of your boots echoing on the sidewalk. Lost in thought, you didn't notice the figure detach itself from a darkened doorway and begin to follow at a discreet distance.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure stepped out from behind a boarded-up storefront. "Hey, doll," he slurred, his voice laced with menace. "Looking lost. Mind if I walk you home?"

You froze, hand instinctively darting towards your back pocket. "No thanks," you replied curtly, voice laced with a tremor of fear. You backed up on instinct, making sure to keep a good distance from the strange man.

The man took a menacing step closer, a predatory glint in his eye. "Suit yourself, sweetheart," he sneered, pulling out what looked like the hilt of a knife from behind him.

Just then, a dark shape materialized beside you. Remy, his movements silent and swift, materialized out of the shadows, placing himself between you and the threat. But the night was so dark and everything was cast in an ebony shadow, that you couldn't make out the other person too well.

"Looking for someone to play with, mon ami? Consider lil' ol' me," Remy drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

The mugger scoffed. "This ain't your business, buddy. Move along."

Before Remy could respond, you whipped out your pepper spray, finger hovering over the trigger. "Get back!" you shrieked, aimlessly pointing the canister directly at Remy.

Fear clouded your judgment, and in a split second, you discharged the spray. A cloud of capsaicin erupted, momentarily obscuring both Remy and the mugger. You squeezed your eyes shut, coughing as the fumes reached you.

When you opened your eyes again, a horrifying sight met your gaze. The mugger had lunged forward, a glint of metal catching the dim light. He plunged the knife into Remy's side, a sickening thud echoing in the night.

Remy, momentarily stunned, stumbled back, a surprised look on his face. But to your astonishment, you couldn't tell there was any blood yet, no sign of a wound. Just a faint hiss escaping his lips as he swatted away the lingering cloud of pepper spray.

"Well, that was certainly interesting, cher," he muttered, his voice strained but oddly amused.

"Shit, Remy?!" You eyes went wide but before you could say anything else, he lunged at the mugger with unnatural speed, easily disarming him with a single, fluid motion. The mugger, wide-eyed with terror, crumpled to the ground with a groan as Remy delivered a swift blow to his pressure point.

Remy straightened, dusting himself off with an air of nonchalance. But you noticed a slight grimace on his face, and your eyes darted to where the knife had struck him. Seeing it finally, there was a small puncture in his shirt, a single red stain blossoming around it.

"Remy!" you gasped, rushing to his side. "You're hurt!"

He glanced at the stain, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. "Seems that fella managed to snag me after all," he admitted, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Don't worry, cher, it's jus' a mere scratch. But perhaps you wouldn't mind patchin' me up when we get back? I'd hate to ruin a perfectly good shirt."

Then it hit you. "You were following me weren't you?" You scoffed. "Jesus...how was I supposed to know you weren't gonna pull the same shit as him?" You scoffed, casting a glance over at the guy he'd just knocked out.

"Trust me cher," Remy winced, "If I hadn't have come you'd probably have just pepper sprayed him to death. Better to leave em' knocked out." He smirked.

You sighed, crossing you arms. "Dammit, okay...we gotta make this quick. You sure you don't need me to call someone? An ambulance?"

Remy shook his head. "Not necessary, cher. It's not that bad."

You glanced down at the red stain on his shirt. "Not bad? Your shirt is practically soaked with blood now. C'mon," you huffed, "it's the least I can do for you after you saved my ass and I pepper sprayed you."

Remy simply grinned. "Thanks cher."

"Don't mention it."

He followed you one more block to your hotel. It was over on Ursuline Street so things were much quieter in that part of town. "Hotel Villa Convento. House of the Rising Sun. You've got taste, cherie." He smirked, following you into the elevator.

"Bridesmaids booked it. They wanted the free parking." You shrugged. As the two of you made it to the king suite on the top floor, you made haste and ushered him inside quickly after sliding your room card through the slot.

"We gotta make this quick, okay? They'll probably be heading back any second. I don't think having a strange, rather pretty man in the room with me alone is a good look." You mentioned, pulling him into the bathroom.

"Heh, you think I'm pretty?" He teased. You cast him a look that said 'drop it'.

He took the hint and didn't press you any further much to his amusement. You left him leaning against the bathroom counter to go find your med kit.

"I have a first aid kit in my luggage. I'm always prepared for emergencies." You said, digging through your suitcase before you finally found it shoved underneath a pair of shorts.

"Got it," you quickly met back up with him in the bathroom and realized that you wouldn't be able to dress the wound without getting him to take off his shirt first.

You bit your lip, torn between frustration and a weird sense of exhilaration. Here you were, in a hotel bathroom with a stranger who was undeniably attractive, tending to a wound he got protecting you. This entire freaking night had been a whirlwind, and this situation was just the cherry on top.

"Alright," you started, forcing a business-like tone that you weren't entirely sure you were carrying off. "To patch you up properly, I'll need you to take off your shirt."

Remy, who had been watching you rummage through your kit with amusement, raised an eyebrow.

"Just the shirt, cher? No need to get hasty." A playful glint flickered in his eyes, a hint of his earlier amusement lingering.

"Seriously, Remy?" you countered, a touch of exasperation creeping into your voice despite the unexpected flutter in your stomach. "This isn't some kind of game. You've got a wound, and I need to see it."

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. "Alright, alright, cher. You win." He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a glimpse of toned muscle underneath. The red stain from the knife was more prominent now, spreading outwards with a concerning urgency.

You quickly averted your gaze, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. This was serious. "Hold still," you muttered, reaching into your kit and pulling out a pair of antiseptic wipes. "This might sting a little."

As you cleaned the wound, your fingers brushed against his cool skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You fingertips grazed one of many numerous scars that adorned his body. He winced slightly, but remained silent, a flicker of pain crossing his face. Despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins, your hands were surprisingly steady.

"You know," Remy murmured, his voice a husky whisper, "you mentioned not wanting a strange man in your room. Maybe I wasn't being very reassuring back there."

You paused, glancing up at him. His dark eyes held a hint of something...else, something that made your breath hitch. The implication hung heavy in the air, and a blush crept up your cheeks.

"That's one way to put it," you mumbled, focusing on applying a generous amount of antibiotic cream to the wound. You fumbled for a bandage in your kit, the white sterile squares suddenly seeming much too small for the situation.

"Look," Remy said, his voice softer now, "I appreciate you patching me up. You really didn't have to."

"Well, someone had to," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You secured the bandage as best you could, the awkward intimacy of the situation making your heart pound a little too fast. "There. All done."

You stepped back, suddenly very aware of the space between the two of you. The silence stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Remy's gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, sending shivers down your spine. You cleared your throat, breaking the spell.

"I, uh, maybe you should get going," you stammered, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears.

"My bridesmaids could be back any minute."

Remy's lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile. "As you wish, cher. But this isn't the end of our conversation, is it?"

The sheer motherfucking audacity of this man—

He'd waltzed in, danced with you, followed you, then gotten himself stabbed protecting you, and now he was leaving with a suggestive question hanging in the air? You should be relieved to see him go, to finally have a moment to catch your breath and process the chaotic turn your night had taken.

Instead, a strange sense of disappointment settled in your stomach. "I don't…" you stammered, unsure of how to respond. The truth was, you didn't know what this night meant. Remy was a stranger, a captivating enigma who'd saved you from a potential mugging or worse, but you were getting married in a few days.

Remy chuckled, a rich sound that danced along your nerves. "Don't worry about it, cher. Think of it as a…favor owed. You saved me from a dull evening, and I returned the favor. Consider us even." He took a step closer, his dark eyes gleaming with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"But," he continued, his voice a husky whisper, "perhaps you could offer a more…personal repayment sometime. Name the time and place, cher. I wouldn't dream of saying no." With that, he winked, a gesture that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

Before you could stammer out a reply, he turned and you soon heard the click of your room door, leaving you breathless and bewildered in the sterile confines of the bathroom.

You stared at the closed door for a long moment, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A part of you thrilled at the unexpected encounter, to the danger and intrigue and mystery that swirled around Remy. But another, more sensible part, reminded you of your impending wedding, of the life you'd built for yourself.

With a sigh, you forced yourself to focus on the practicalities. You cleaned up the supplies you'd used, shoving them back into your first-aid kit with trembling hands. The adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins began to ebb, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.

Slipping out of the bathroom, you found your room empty. The faint sounds of laughter drifting from down the hall told you your bridesmaids were headed up, blissfully unaware of the drama that had unfolded just steps away.

Undressing and stepping into your silken night gown, you crawled into bed and pulled the covers up tight, as the events of the night replaying in your mind like a fever dream.

Sleep, when it finally came, was filled with fragmented images of blood colored eyes, a dangerous smile, and the echo of a question that hung heavy in the air: what had you gotten yourself into?

[margaretoakgrove]

Taking care of Heisenberg

If once you decide to open an old huge dictionary and find the word ''workaholic'' within this book, i bet the name of this handsome man certainly will be its definition.

It is just incredible that each day Heisenberg finds so many hours to build his metal army of mechanical undead soldiers and, unfortunately, such a small amount of time for taking care of himself.

The lord tends to put his own self-care and state of health aside, but you, on the very contrary, put them on the first place along with yours.

Actually, it will be fair enough to say, that you enjoy taking care of your loved one, and the undeniable fact that you are able to make his life easier and better turns you into one of the happiest people in the world.

Heisenberg is definitely a man of a good appetite, but in spite of that he prefers a simple food over rare exquisite dishes. Therefore if you just cook a fried meat with boiled potatoes and a simple vegetable salad, be doubtlessly sure that your pretty hands will be covered with little kisses of his endless gratitude.

Oftentimes, the old worn clothes of the lord become dirty and damaged as he usually works with motor oil and different metal scraps with rather sharp edges, but you are always ready to remove any oil stain from his trousers and sew up every hole in his shirt.

One needs to mention that your loved one's work is not only physically hard, but it's also hazardous, and, at times, sharp tools, metal scraps or even his own creation that, all of a sudden, went totally crazy can injure him. After such unpleasant situations you carefully patch his bleeding wounds up, and Karl, seeing a concerned look on your face, every time gives you a reassuring smile and tells that you shouldn't be so worried because of just another scratch. (Well yeah, just another scratch which, in the afterwards, turns into another deep scar.)

As Heisenberg strictly forbids you to wander the lowest levels of the factory completely all alone, warning that it's super dangerous, you cannot go down there and check on him when he burns the midnight oil, creating one more addition to his army.

But when the lord sits in his workshop on the highest and safest floor of the building, designing and improving scatches or writing down important notes, you always bring him a healthy snack and a mug of aromatic strong coffee even in the middle of the night which is not a problem for you at all.

When your loved one, after working hard during all day almost in nonstop regime, tirely flops down on your shared cozy bed, you don't ever mind to provide him with a wonderfully relaxing massage. The caring hands of yours slowly and gently rub his weary neck and shoulders, and Karl doesn't even try to hold slight moans of an absolute pleasure, letting you understand like this how unbelievably good you make him feel.

By the havoc which practically daily happens in his life Heisenberg, rather often, feels very stressed out, and you perfectely know that at these gloomy days of his Karl needs the comfort of your company more than usual. You caringly offer him to drink a nice cup of hot relaxing herbal infusion and take a slow walk on the fresh air somewhere in the woods, trying to speak on positive themes in the process of your little trip, at the same time listening to the calming ambient sounds of the nature.

In winter you are especially worried about the health state of your dearest man, noticing that despite a cold weather he is quite lightly dressed, and his neck is perpetually open to the strong gusts of freezing northern and western winds. Does one need to say how surprised the lord was when you timidly gifted him a simply-looking yet so soft and warm scarf knitted with your own golden hands? No, the man wasn't just pleasantly surprised, he was baffled, even shocked by this gesture because literally nobody in his entire life has ever done such a nice thing for him.

Having the new accessory wrapped around his neck (which fits him well, by the way), Karl attends special occasions by the name of family meetings where he with a smug-ass smile on his face lively brags to the siblings (especially to Lady D) about what a kind, caring and attentive person his precious darling really is, unlike someone's annoyingly buzzing bloodthirsty bugs.

Heisenberg is sure as hell that he will never be grateful enough to you for everything you do for him every single day, understanding very well that without your divine presence in his life he would never ever feel so truly loved and cared for.

But the lord does not even imagine that the short sincere ''thank you, Buttercup'' of his makes you melt like a sweet sugar cube in a hot fragrant tea.

And each new day you are willing to keep tirelessly surrounding him with your priceless love and tender care because this so close to your heart man means the world for you and, surely, even more.

[aeternallis]

This is gonna sound random as hell and maybe someone already brought it up, but are we able to verify that Kim is the only member of the Theerapanyakul family that we never see eat or drink anything?

Like, we've seen Kinn eat and drink, we've seen Tankhun drink, we've seen Korn eat soup and drink alcohol. We've seen Gun share a meal with his men; Macau was in that scene, so I'll count it. And ofc, Vegas' whole schtick with food is a big theme in his character arc.

But Kim? We've seen him provide food (first studio scene) and be served food (the morning after confession), but have we ever seen him actually consume the food?? Did we actually see him slurp the noodles Chay got for the both of them?? Like literally, the few times we see food as part of the scene for him, Chay is involved one way or another.

Something something about how Chay sustains him in many different ways, mayhaps?

There's a whole new world to be explored as to what Kim likes to eat, I think~

I feel like he'd be a picky eater, lol! He doesn't like foods that are too oily, but he'd probably tolerate takeout food once in awhile due to his busy schedule. He'd prefer grilled food (chicken, pork, fish, squid, etc etc.) over deep fried food, most definitely! He probably likes dishes that are simple, filling, and healthy; I could totally see him eating a serving or two of rice, and his only side is like steamed bokchoy and eggplant that's been simmered in a bit of soy sauce and oyster sauce, yknow?

Idek, maybe he has a peanut allergy.

[danikamariewrites]

I’m auch a picky eater so i wqs wondering id i could request cassian x picky eater reader who hates everything that is being cooked, like he’s a health nut and eats literally anything and reader eats limited things😭😭

Picky

Cassian x reader

A/n: he would be a health nut 😂 I’m also a very very picky eater so it was fun to write this short lol blurb.

Warnings: none

“What in the name of the Mother is that?” You shoot Cassian a disgusted look as he chugs a disgusting looking green drink. “You should try it, it’s really good for you.”

He holds the glass out to you. You sniff and crinkle your nose at the mixed vegetables. “No thank you.” Cassian lets out a deep chuckle and goes back to his drink.

“I was thinking about dinner tonight. I could make oven roasted chicken with mixed veggies,” he paused waiting for your thoughts. You let out an unenthusiastic hum, “It tastes weird.”

“You only think it tastes weird because it doesn’t come with fries.” He says, jokingly raising an eyebrow at you. You look at him with fake shock. “Nuh-uh.” “Ya-huh.”

You turn away from Cass, crossing your arms. He quickly come up behind you, grabbing your sides and tickling you. “Come on, admit it, you’re a picky eater.”

Your laughter spurring him on to keep you in his grip as you moved against him. “Cass stop,” “nope not until you say it.”

“Ok fine!” You relent. “I’m picky and I hate your healthy foods! They’re gross.” As he lets go you step away from him, holding your arms out so he knows to keep his distance as you catch your breath.

“So…” you drawl teasingly. “Can we have chicken fingers and fries? Your homemade ones are so good.” Cassian rolls his eyes at you. “If that’s what my girl wants.” He rushes at you again, this time pulling you into one of his bear hugs and kissing the top of your head.

[v3n1ce-bxtch]

✧*̥˚Celebrity Crush Realized˚✧

•Chapter 3•

It had been a month since your late-night motorcycle ride with Drew, and though the two of you had kept in touch, your schedules made it hard to meet up. You weren’t sure where things stood—friends? Something more?—but you weren’t going to overthink it.

That Friday evening, you were hanging out with Sam and Ari in your living room, sprawled out with takeout containers and a few drinks. Sam was scrolling through TikTok on the TV, sending cursed videos to the group chat, while Ari was dramatically ranting about a recent situationship gone wrong.

“I’m telling you,” Ari said, flopping onto the couch like a reality show villain, “if he sends me one more ‘wyd’ text at 2 a.m., I’m blocking him.”

“Please do,” you replied, munching on fries. “Save yourself the embarrassment.”

Sam snorted. “Says the girl who’s literally ‘casually talking’ to Drew Starkey.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not ‘talking’ to him. We’re just… friends.”

“Oh, friends,” Ari teased. “That’s why you smiled at your phone every time he texted you last week. Totally platonic.”

Before you could protest, your phone started buzzing on the coffee table. All three of you froze when Drew’s name flashed on the screen.

“No way,” Ari whispered, eyes wide.

“Answer it,” Sam hissed, nudging your arm.

Swallowing your nerves, you picked it up and put it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Drew’s voice came through, warm and easy. “Am I interrupting anything?”

You glanced at your friends, who were silently screaming. “Not really. Just hanging out with Sam and Ari.”

“Oh, hey Sam and Ari,” Drew said, his tone amused.

“Hey, Drew!” Ari chimed in, not missing a beat.

“Hi, Drew,” Sam said in a sing-song voice.

You gave them a look before focusing back on the call. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Drew started, and you could hear a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight. I’m cooking.”

Sam audibly gasped, and Ari whispered, “Is he serious?”

“I’d love to,” you replied, ignoring the peanut gallery. “What time?”

“Say, eight? And, uh, wear something nice. I’m making it fancy.”

The call ended with a quick goodbye, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.

Two hours later, you stood in front of your mirror, nervously adjusting your dress. You’d picked a sleek, fitted gown in Drew’s favorite color—deep green. It hugged your curves just enough, with a high slit on one side and thin straps that made your shoulders look elegant. Sam had curled your hair into soft waves, and Ari had insisted on a subtle but glowy makeup look.

“He’s going to pass out when he sees you,” Sam said, taking a photo of you for the group chat.

“Don’t hype me up,” you muttered, trying not to overthink.

“No, she’s right,” Ari added. “This is main-character energy. Now go!”

When you arrived at Drew’s place, you were greeted by soft music playing in the background and the warm, inviting scent of garlic and rosemary wafting through the air. He opened the door wearing a crisp white button-up and black slacks, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you.

“Wow,” he said, stepping back to let you in. “You look… amazing.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” you teased, feeling your cheeks heat.

The dining table was set with candles, real silverware, and actual cloth napkins. Drew gestured for you to sit while he disappeared into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with plates of perfectly cooked steak, roasted potatoes, and sautéed green beans.

“You didn’t have to go all out,” you said, stunned.

“I wanted to,” he replied, sitting across from you. “You deserve it.”

The two of you fell into easy conversation as you ate, laughing about random memories, debating the best fast-food fries, and sharing stories about the weirdest things you’d seen on social media.

After dinner, Drew insisted on cleaning up while you sipped on the wine he’d paired with the meal. You watched him from the couch, noticing the little things: the way he hummed along to the music, how his sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms, the way he glanced at you every so often with a small smile.

When he finally joined you, he leaned back against the couch, his knee brushing yours. “So, was it fancy enough?”

“Definitely,” you said, grinning. “I feel like I should’ve paid admission.”

He chuckled. “Next time, I’ll charge you. But only if you promise there’s a next time.”

You pretended to think about it, but the truth was, you already knew the answer.

“Deal.”

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[unhonestlymirror]

I've seen meme made by @flashlight-sticker and I wanted to remake it based on my real life experience (with explanations):

1. Every Eastern European country is very good at cooking - but the first place is shared between Ukraine and Latvia.

In Ukraine, I recommend you to visit "Flagman" restaurants (expensive), "Dary morya" seafood store (affordable, may have delicacies like escallops or pike caviar by a pretty good price sometimes), and of course Silpo (used to be hella expensive but worth it, idk for now, GO BUY THEIR BUCKWHEAT BREAD AND PIZZA!!) and Puzata Hata cantine net (pretty affordable but very good quality).

In Latvia, it's Lido. Just go there, you won't regret it, the staff speaks English. They also have very nice dairy products and ice cream in Rimi shops. Latvia is fucking awesome at cooking, literally nothing's ever disappointed me there.

Belarus is also very good cook, especially when it comes to potatoes, ofc, but their meat and meat products are too extravagant for me... but it's definitely worth trying! People often bring chocolate sweets, birch juice and dark bread from there as souvenirs because they're pretty delicious, too.

Lithuanian food is also amazing, especially if you're a sportsman or student (someone who got used to burn lots of calories on daily basis). Biržų Duona bakery, Iki shops, Maxima shops, Lido shops, Charlie Pizza and Fokus Pizza (serve non-pizza nice business lunches), CAFFEINE - these are some delicious and affordable options, I don't go often to restaurants. Lithuanians tend to like pretty spicy hot soups (India's nephew, afterr all XD). My only advice to you: if you visit Lithuania and you don't feel like you're gonna drop dead if you don't eat something right goddamn now - DO NOT GO TO FAST FOOD POINTS. Literally go anywhere else but McDonald's, KFC and Hesburger. There are so many finger-licking options, don't waste your time on some average hamburgers.

Turkey is good at cooking (they're Ukraine's neighbours after all). Especially at local sweets and French creme soups. I recommend you katmer (sweet hot pistachio lasagna) and grilled seafood.

2.

Spain didn't impress me with its cuisine. 90% of tourists who praise it are Germans - and whatever Germans eat on daily basis would make any Eastern European miserable and depressed. In Spain, it seems like they drink fresh orange juice only, which is not bad unless you have citrus allergy. Then it's gonna be a serious quest, especially if you're out of funds (still water is more expensive than orange juice). Also, Jordan makes paella better.

Never been to Belgium so idk.

Never been to Bulgaria either but they're Ukraine's cousin so their food must be good. Thus, I place them higher.

Finland is Okay cook, definitely better than the rest of Nordics, so I place them higher.

France is pretty good cook, but even with their huge food diversity, they still don't have affordable good quality cantines. Some of them tend to close cafes and restaurants during lunch time?? Thus, I place them lower.

3.

Sorry, Greece, but never in my life I've been served with unpeeled deep fried microshrimps... Karavidopsiha is pretty nice, tho. Potatoes are meh. I recommend you to order fish and seafood. I usually order non-spicy fish because it's cooked really fast and it's hard to hide bad smell&taste in case it's rotten.

Literally every restaurant in the center of Rome!! will serve you with black-peppered pasta carbonara... In many cases, it's also not boiled enough - and in all cases, it costs too much for its quality! Wtf, Italy, that's your capital, the face of a country! You better book in an apartment with kitchen because small local shops have some nice fresh products which you will definitely have to cook yourself in order to stop being depressed. You also need to have a guide or a good old friend who lives here for a while, who can recommend you some nice restaurants (in most cases, far from the center). If you're a very rich& influensive guest visiting Italy, in ALL 5 starts restaurants, they're gonna serve you with Tiramisu (not bad, just keep it in mind). Also, DON'T order pizza here without a guide - better go to McDonald's.

4.

Hugary is good at cooking meat.

Egypt is good in everything which isn't European cuisine.

Switzerland has nice warm spinach bakery in Migros. McDonald's there fucking sucks!!!!

Never been to Canada and USA so idk.

Liechtenstein idk, Poland... overall has nice cuisine but almost every time it's a bit too burnt and/or oily to my taste. If you're from USA/Western Europe, you'll find it amazing anyway.

5. Norway trying very hard but still can't cook for shit. They don't even have salted salmon in shops, wtf! Vegetables and fruist costs like they're made from gold. Bakery's tasteless, but I give kudos for the visual appearance. My favorite pastime there became eating sugar substitute. Idk how non-fishermen live there, if I had to eat like this everyday, I'd hang myself.

6.

Germany is famous among Eastern Europeans for having really bad taste in food. They really believe pop tarts are delicious, and that coffee&croissant is a rich man's breakfast, poor guys... Every time I go there and pick a random cafe, I order a soup and it's ALWAYS inedible. If you can't even cook a normal soup, then what can you cook at all?... Bakery's also tasteless. They drink so much beer it leaves me speechless. McDonald's and Chinese cuisine will be your calm island in the middle of a stormy sea.

In UK, the only dish I remember as good was street food (fresh strawberries in chocolate). And they were made by Polish girls. Fish&Chips isn't even worth trying. Literally every country cooks better English breakfast than England. Just go to McDonald's, don't torture yourself/your family&friends.