#slade x reader

Bane: Absolutely a girl dad

Bane came home to you after a longer mission, what it was for he never told you, he figured you’d be a little safer that way. No one could hurt you as you were safe in his apartment on his base. If you needed something he trusted his men to do it quickly and efficiently.

Still he knew that you liked to leave every now and then to be with friends or run your own errands, but it was early…really early in the morning.

So when he came back and you weren’t around, he immediately became worried.

“Cariña?” he’d call out, cautiously making his way through the kitchen and dining area, “Mi amor, where are you?”

He’d immediately perk up and rush to the bathroom, finding you face first in the toilet bowl. You looked up at him weakly, smiling before throwing up again.

“Ay, Cariña, qué te pasa?” he cooed, stooping down to kneel next to you.

He’d hold your hair out of your face, and grab a soft wet washcloth to clean you up if need be. He would be so patient and understanding, even if you’re crying or apologizing. He’s seen, and dealt, worse messes.

“Surprise,” you’d say with a nervous smile, welcoming him home, “I’m pregnant.”

He’d be incredibly silent for a moment, and he’s already a pretty quiet man, so you begin to worry. But then he’d quickly scoop you up into his arms and spin you around. He’s ecstatic, and this is the happiest you’ve seen him…he generally doesn’t show any emotions.

He then set you down, suddenly feeling awful for not being here for you to help you out or lighten your load, “Mi Vida, I’m so sorry I’ve been gone. When did you know?”

**********

He’d need a lot of reassurance for the first few days, especially when he thinks he might hurt you. He’s incredibly attentive to you and your needs, often knowing what you need before you do.

He makes sure you get to all your appointments (with the best doctors), are eating right, and getting healthy amounts of excercise and vitamins.

He’s honestly scared how big you’ll get, but won’t say he is, he doesn’t want to scare you.

He loves when he can finally start feeling the baby kick, “strong, just like her papá.”

He would want a girl, a mini you, but wouldn’t be mad either way. The most important thing to him is that you and baby are healthy and safe.

He’ll go a little overboard during the “nesting” phase and you’ll have to rein him back in. Seriously he’ll baby proof the whole base, apartment, and baby locks dangerous areas (his men are not happy about the baby gates and locks).

He’ll hold up your belly if you’re tired of the weight, or just carry you around. Again your comfort and health are his top priority, anything you want or need he’s already prepared it. Don’t be scared to ask him for anything…seriously anything you need or want he’ll do.

He won’t be offended, angered, or off put by your mood or outbursts, he knows it’s just a natural part of pregnancy. He also probably has a calendar or notebook filled with little details or information about your whole pregnancy.

He knew when you’d go into labor, it’s scary accurate.

Is absolutely in the room while you’re pushing (although you’ll probably need a C section). Let’s you squeeze the life out of his hand, and it’s really hard for him to bite his tongue with the doctor’s telling you what to do. He has just as much knowledge, if not more than they do.

He absolutely sheds a few tears once he sees your baby, but immediately checks on you first and praises you, “you did so well, Mi Vida. I’m so proud.”

He makes sure to take care of the baby so you can rest, seriously don’t worry about lifting a finger. He wants you to heal up, rest, and regain your strength. Again you are his top priority.

You’ll catch him reading his books outloud while your baby sleeps on his chest, and very rarely you’ll hear him singing lullabies in spanish. He likes getting to spend time together, it relaxes him, and you find it endearing.

Be careful, you might end up pregnant again.

He’s honestly just like a big guard dog, and will sometimes take a walk through the base with your baby so you can have some me time, especially during the crying all night phase.

Could fit your baby in one hand and no doubt carries it around like a football sometimes. He’s so so careful though! You and your baby are his most treasured possessions (not that he thinks he owns you), and he loves you dearly.

Deathstroke/Slade Wilson: He has so many kids, he couldn’t care less what the gender is, just as long as they're strong.

Slade returned to your shared apartment late, he had just come back from a long job, and as always he wanted to smother you.

“I’m back Babydoll,” Slade purred, bringing you close to him, but he immediately clocked you holding your breath. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you, “what’s wrong?”

“Sorry, your cologne…or maybe the blood is just making me, nauseous,”

“Hmm, you wanna come wash off with me?” he cooed, bringing you back to his chest.

You pushed away quickly, running over to the nearest garbage can, throwing up.

“Aww baby, are you pregnant?” he chuckled, half joking.

But the way you looked at him, almost mortified or embarrassed, worried he’d be unhappy or maybe even angry, made him immediately want to take back his chuckle, especially seeing your eyes tear up.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m not mad. Let me wash up so you don’t feel sick when I kiss you, alright?” he said with a wolfish grin.

He’d gesture for you to sit on the bed while he took the quickest, most thorough shower of his life, and then he basically tackled you down onto the bed. He’d hold you close to him, hands on your tummy while kissing the top of your head.

“Mmm, I’ve wanted to make you a mommy for awhile,” he purred.

**********

There’s something about you being pregnant that makes his ego bigger than it was before, and makes him incredibly horny…both of which you thought couldn’t get higher.

He absolutely gets more domestic with you and is careful to avoid your triggers (things that make you nauseous or moody). He’ll cook your favorite meals, go out in hail or snow to get things you’re craving, and doesn’t shame you.

He always makes sure you’re comfortable, and he absolutely loves giving you massages. He’ll wash your hair for you or shave places for you you can’t reach. Don’t apologize to him for anything, he’s doing all these things for you because he cares about you.

He loves cuddling with you, or laying his head on your lap while he rubs your belly. He also loves fucking you while you’re pregnant, mostly because he can blow load after load in you…the consequences have already been dealt.

Sometimes he gets angry, but doesn’t direct it towards you. He really has to fight back his pride when you don’t want him near you at certain times because of your hormones or mood (he knows he’s an asshole).

He likes the thought of you being pregnant more than the actual process. But, he’ll help you out and take care of you as much as he can. He does like building the nursery and being handy (and handsy with you).

He gets very possessive of you in public, and has to fight back the urge to maim or kill guys who look at you for too long…except he will yell at those who call you names or call him “gramps”. He’s not a grandpa, just “beekeeping” age.

He’s incredibly cool and collected when you go into labor, and if you joke about him having “done this before?”, he won’t reveal, or even give you a tell that he has other kids. They’re all grown, and he doesn’t really age, so who cares? He’ll just tell you that you’re his priority and he has to make sure you’re healthy and safe, no use in making you anxious by being nervous himself.

He doesn’t really stop going on missions or jobs during your pregnancy, or after, but you will notice he’s around a bit more than before.

Sometimes you’ll wake up in the middle of the night to no baby crying or fussing, and will see him rocking your baby to sleep, or holding it while he stands and watches the news or something in the kitchen.

He likes spiking up your baby’s hair and giving it a little matching costume to his. He thinks it’s hilarious.

You also will notice he gives you gifts and pampers you more than before…if that was even possible. He knows you need your rest and time to recover.

At the end of the night if you’ve already fallen asleep, he’ll kiss you before tucking your baby into its crib.

He does thorough sweeps of the apartment, making sure you’re all safe and sound, he seems almost paranoid at times. But, he loves getting to crawl into bed and pull you close to him, while keeping an eye on your kid.

He may be shit at showing it, but he really does care about both of you.

Two-Face: This is like his dream, prays it's twins and you have a girl and a boy

Harv came barreling in through your bedroom door, his hair was wet and his suit was soaked, and he seemed more pissed off than usual.

You came out of the bathroom in one of his suits, too tired and nauseous for anything nice, it was laundry day and you had thrown up an hour before. You tried to make yourself look happy, knowing he was in a bad mood.

“Darling, where are you?” he asked looking around, finding you coming out of the bathroom looking miserable.

He could never stay mad around you (or get mad at you), and even though he was pissed from a failed heist with his goons, and thought you looked absoltely adorable in nothing more than his suit jacket, there was something going on with you, and you were more important to him than anything.

“Hey,” he rasped softly, pulling you into a hug, “is something wrong? How was your night?”

You took a deep breath, knowing you’d have to tell him eventually, “I’m pregnant.”

Harv was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to figure out if what you said was real or just another voice in his head, “wait, you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, feeling the weight from before press down on you, but Harv only squeezed you tighter. You could hear his breath grow shaky, as if he was trying to hold in tears. You looked up at him and he smiled down at you. He was definitely crying.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

He would stand there holding you a little longer, rethinking every doubt he’d ever had in his mind. He really was lucky and thankful to have you in his life, given his circumstances and everything.

**********

Harv would be on cloud nine for the first few days, he’s absolutely over joyed with this news and goes around and tells all of his goons he’s going to be a dad, and most of them just nod along with it. Whatever the boss says.

Then after the high, he crashes and becomes increasingly cautious and anxious around you, he’s probably more worried and nervous than you are.

He’s scared his kid will be scared of him, that maybe it’s not actually his. He’s insanely paranoid he’ll do something to hurt you or your baby, or both of you, and Harvey and TwoFace bicker back and forth.

Please talk some sense into him, he needs all the reassurance and love you can give.

It takes him awhile, but once he’s calmed down, he is over joyed again. This is an absolute dream come true for him. Not just that you’re pregnant, that’s the cherry on top for him, but he never thought he’d have a partner that loves him…at least enough to expand your family with him.

Harvey absolutely longs for a normal life, and is absolutely a family man. He becomes so domestic and the “nesting” phase never seems to stop.

He makes you special dinners (he does his best at least), makes sure you’re always comfortable (he’ll send his goons out for supplies and errands), and is almost always within ear shot so if you do need something he can get it for you.

He will indulge all of your cravings and will try them with you. He’ll keep his opinions to himself, but his facial expressions don’t hide his thoughts.

He loves once you start showing and his favorite thing to do is talk to your belly or feel the baby kick, “ha! Did you feel that sweetheart? He must like the sound of my voice.”

He secretly hopes you have twins, one boy and one girl, but he’d be happy with anything as long as you’re healthy and so is the baby…or babies. He won’t admit it but sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat from nightmares. He’d genuinely blow up the block and then blow his shit off if something happened to you.

He will freak out a little bit once your contractions start, but he locks in once you actually go into labor. He is overly prepared, has a bag ready, the carseat already installed in the car (which took lots of cussing and trial and error), and some of the best doctor’s on speed dial.

He’ll stay awake the whole time with you in the hospital, let you squeeze his hand, but he is so scared to hold your baby. He doesn’t want to accidentally drop it or hurt it…or scare it.

But as soon as he holds it (after you of course) he has the biggest dopiest smile on his face that doesn’t seem to go away for weeks. God he’s so proud of you, and he silently thanks Lady Gotham for giving him a second chance.

You notice he seems calmer.

Sometimes you’ll catch him reading late at night while your baby sleeps on his chest, and very rarely you’ll catch him asleep on the floor while your baby bounces in a little chair also asleep. It’s the cutest thing when they’re both drooling.

You never have to worry about getting no sleep since Harvey is always ontop of feedings and changings and just giving you peace of mind.

He makes your baby laugh so much.

You pressed your back against the door, sliding down to the floor. It was for the best he didn’t ask, you definitely would’ve started to cry, he didn’t try to negotiate, didn’t try to backtrack. You told yourself it was fine, that his peaceful departure was for the best because you definitely would’ve started to cry but it wasn’t. To you, it meant you weren’t worth fighting for. 

It didn’t matter that you had no solid argument against him, all that mattered was that old fuck would’ve never left that easily for his ex-wife.

You were brave, you waited until you couldn’t hear his footsteps to start crying. Stupid you, honestly there had been a part of you which thought he might do at least one. 

You cried for so long, so hard that your eyes were swollen and you were hiccuping uncontrollably but after, you felt great. Refreshed, no more old man completely out of touch with his emotions and gone for weeks at a time doing shit that he was definitely too old for. Maybe it would be time to get with someone closer to your age, except, the dating pool in your thirties was complete trash—that’s how you ended up with Slade Wilson in the first place. 

Everyone your age was divorced, hung up on their ex, toxic. Slade was an internationally wanted criminal, but he was only borderline evil, slightly toxic. His wife was dead and his kids grown, so basically, he was everything wrong with the men your age, just older and honestly, considerably more emotionally unavailable so really, maybe that wasn’t the reason you had been with Slade—was it the whole silver fox thing he had going on? Didn’t matter! It was time to live your life.

Thats why you’re here, three months later and anxiously shifting in a restaurant that is actually, somewhat nice. Your date is not, slightly awkward and consistently checking his phone but you are unfortunately determined, though you’ve been staring at the wavering candlelight for the last ten minutes, trying to hype yourself up with the promise of pizza that is supposed to be really good while preparing yourself for him to ask to go dutch. 

The conversation has entirely died out at your table, you listen to the distant conversations of the people around you, the laughter and jokes that go over your head as goosebumps rise along your bare arms with the sensation of being watched. You rub at your arm mindlessly, of course you’d feel like you’re being watched—in a crowded restaurant, in a dress that shows so much skin you had to hype yourself up to wear it outside despite owning the piece for years. 

The silence isn’t intolerable, it’s better than explaining again that being a professor is different than being a fifth-grade teacher like your date’s father for what feels like the fourth time after sitting down at the restaurant when your food finally arrives. 

His on a plate from a stiff black haired waitress and yours in a box from a different, more older, familiar waiter. 

Slade is wearing a painfully fake mustache and circular black glasses, “For the lady.” He says, taking your napkin from under your silverware and placing it on top of the box. 

“To go.” Slade is more stern, glaring at your date as he speaks. He is dressed in a white button-up, stretching over his chest, taunt, close to bursting, the buttons tight and showing a little of the white wifebeater underneath with a black apron tied around his waist, multi-colored pens skewed in the pocket. 

Something tells you that isn’t his apron, let alone his uniform. “You asked for your food to go?” Your date asks, more of a squeak than a question under the intensity of Slade’s glare. “She did.” Slade answers for you, looking increasingly more like evil Colonel Sanders the more you look at him. When your date moves to leave, Slade places a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Sit down, boy.” Slade shoves his shoulder down with too much force, your date looks terrified. “I said, the lady is leaving. Not you.” 

You lean around Slade to look at the black-haired waitress but find that she is long gone, standing by the hostess and laughing as if your ex-boyfriend isn’t masquerading as a waiter and.. crashing your date, essentially kicking you out of the restaurant. 

You did want to leave, but now you’re thinking that your date might be the love of your life but when you reach for his hand, just to make Slade jealous, your date is whip-quick to retract it, tucking it firmly at his side while looking up at Slade with pleading eyes. 

“I have to pay still.” You grumble out, shaking with rage. “This young man will pay for it.” There is particular emphasis on the young man, you do not correct that your date is older than you, just not as old as Slade. Your date’s eyes are wide, but he doesn’t protest, though you can tell he did not want to pay. 

So you stand. Shaking with rage and harshly grabbing the packaged pizza from the table. “This is not over.” You scowl, on your tippy toes but still finding yourself looking up at Slade. His smile is smug, nothing but delight in his eyes. 

Then you debate on storming out, causing a scene, something about how this old ass man is a horrible waiter, but you would rather leave with Slade than embarrass yourself like that so you leave with dignity, refusing to look behind you though Slade is most definitely watching you leave. 

The warmth of the city hits you immediately upon stepping out, door closing gently behind you. The sounds of the restaurant instantly cut off, replaced with the busy city nightlife—clusters of people bar crawling, heading home.

 You’re sitting at the bus stop, watching a bodega cat from across the busy street loaf atop multiple crushed boxes of cosmic brownies when you realize the bus is late. It’s just a few minutes but you’re mid-way to standing to look before you watch it turn the corner and sit right back down as the bus grows closer in the night traffic. 

When the doors open, you understand why the bus was late.

You are looking at Slade Wilson, in the drivers seat. He has the same stupid fucking mustache but he’s no longer in the uniform of the restaurant, instead there is bus drivers uniform straining over his biceps, bunched up around his elbows while the buttons are undone, wifebeater exposed. The button-up looks more like a crop top on Slade and you wonder where the poor, terrified bus driver must be. 

“All aboard.” He calls, not even bothering to try and mask his voice. 

Okay. Your clenching the pizza box with so much force it is crumpling beneath your grip. Fuck. This was too much, you open the box, feeling tears burn in your eyes at how utterly perfect this pizza is, how delicious it could be, how expensive it probably was. 

In honor of the pizza and only for the pizza, you pull a slice from the box, watching as the cheese stretches taunt, then loosens and hangs down. 

“All aboard, ma’am.” Slade repeats. You could care less, you’re biting into a slice of pizza and holy fuck is it good, gooey, warm, perfectly crisp and seasoned. 

You let out an involuntary moan, it isn’t too greasy, isn’t slimy, but isn’t dry either, you debate another slice—you’re enjoying your pizza too much but when you’re done with your slice, you use the napkin he yanked out from under your silverware to wipe your hand because this isn’t how this night will go. 

You were cordial before, you didn’t want to be with your stupid fucking date but you did want to go home and Slade was impeding that. 

You close the lid of the pizza box, napkin tucked safely inside as you position yourself at an angle to the waiting doors, Slade has an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t have any idea what you’re planing, you can hear faint murmuring from the other riders, likely confused at how long the driver has been waiting at the stop for. 

They don’t need to be confused anymore. You throw the pizza box, your entire bodyweight into the pitch that feels like it should’ve gotten you into the Yankees. You stumble, catching yourself on the open bus doors as you watch the pizza collide with Slade’s face because oh shit, you apparently hadn’t closed the pizza box well—causing it to open mid-air and end with the slices breaking apart and covering him. 

There is a slice sliding down Slade’s face, multiple on his shoulders, his chest, plastered to the window behind him and one awkwardly on his single hand resting limp against the wheel. 

“Fuck off, Slade.” Then spin on your heel and begin calling in a Deathstroke sighting. 

That was just the beginning. 

Movie date? Slade sat behind you and your date, conveniently dumping an XL popcorn with extra butter and grease alllll over your date. 

Gondola ride? Who do you think was paddling at the helm? Ridiculous fucking hat and all. You had pushed his stupid ass into the water, realized you were stranded in the middle of the lake, then demanded the paddle back. 

Your date had huddled in the furthest end of the gondola, as far away from you as he could get until shore while Slade swam his sorry ass back to shore—even worse, he reached shore before you. 

The fair? Every ride you wanted to go on was miraculously out of order. Convenient when they had worked just fine for everyone else minutes before and minutes after. 

That brings you to now, on another date. Pottery painting, there is no fucking way that your psychotic ex-boyfriend can ruin this. It’s pottery painting, really, the most simple, casual, non-fuck up-able date in the world. You are having a great time, really, after you got over the initial anxiety of picking out a piece of paint while looking over your shoulder for any sign of Slade. Your date has shot you more than one concerned look, he didn’t know—he didn’t understand how dangerous going on a date with you was but blessedly, nothing happened. 

Half way through painting your piece, having fallen into casual conversation with your date and feeling honestly, excited you think that Slade has given up. You are wrong, but you don’t fully understand how wrong you are until you’re attempting to paint the smallest detail on your piece and your wrist is suddenly harshly grabbed by a red gloved hand. 

You let out a yelp, quickly turning to admonish Slade and his new stupid get up but to your horror, it is not Slade. “..Flash….?” You ask. 

The hero looks terrified wide and desperate eyes that look towards you like you could save him. Like you’re the hero, rather than some random accounting professor that accidentally ended up dating a supervillain through your less-than-stellar past as an accountant for an arms dealer that Slade worked with often. 

“Deathstroke—he’s messing around with the speed force.” 

“What the fuck is a speed force?” The Flash is urging you up, but you don’t move until his grip is becoming painful and rough as he yanks you up, your chair falling backward and clattering against the empty chair behind you, bumping against the not-so-empty table. 

Flash is pulling you to his chest, even as you are actively pushing against him and trying to get away, eyes pleading for your date to save you, to fight for you but he remains still—you don’t even get the chance to call him a pussy, “Sorry man. We gotta save the world.” Your date doesn’t even get the chance to argue because within seconds, you are gone and absolutely horribly sick. 

As soon as he slows down and lets you go, you’re hunched over and dry-heaving, all comparisons between Slade and your date left behind in the pottery studio. 

“Oh my god—did Flash just kidnap me?” The world is spinning, you’re stumbling, only managing to stay upright with the help of said probably-maybe-kidnapper. 

“Deathstroke is trying to use the speed force to change the past.” He’s moved on from just helping to hold you up, now pulling you along as you stumble, wiping your mouth with your sleeve whilst groaning. 

“What does that have to do with me?” You’re trying to sit, but Flash doesn’t care that you’re deadweight. It doesn’t even slightly impede him. 

“He’s doing it for you.” You’re tripping, falling forward and only being stopped by the Flash darting his hand out, roughly catching you by the back of your shirt. You cough as the neckline digs into your throat briefly, tears in the corners of your eyes from the surprised almost decapitation. The incident is over just as quickly as it began, in typical speedster fashion you only blink then you’re over his shoulder, “You’ve got it wrong—” you’re coughing, right into his shoulder because fuck this guy, “--Sla—Deathstroke doesn’t do anything for anyone but fuckin’ Deathstroke.” 

The Flash won’t hear it, not when you’re kicking at his chest, beating your fists against his back or trying to peel his mask off for the world to see. You know that he is jostling you a little extra as he runs, just enough to get you nauseous enough to lay limp.

-

When Flash stops running, the world is still a blur of movement. You can’t feel your legs, but although Flash has set you onto solid ground, he doesn’t let you go. He’s moving you like a ragdoll, shuffling you around while talking indiscernibly. You’re still struggling against him, but you can accept when you’ve been defeated. 

“—Just talk to him.” Flash says, forcing you forward. “I got nothing to say to him.” Flash was now your least favorite superhero, which is crazy the bottom-rung nutcase was Guy fucking Gardner. 

“You’re gonna find something.” You’re about to admonish him for his audacity when you see Slade. You’ve never seen him dressed fully as Deathstroke. You don’t recognize him at first, though his stance is impossible to mistake, even with flashes of lightning flashing around him—just like a speedster. 

“Slade?” 

Slade’s head snaps towards you, you watch him visibly anger, “Fuck you doin’ here?” He’s demanding, looking from you to Flash, still holding your slack form up.  

“How fucking dare you involve her?” Slade snarls, instantly in front of Flash, who has shoved you partially behind him, no longer supporting you and thank god for that because the fight is over in an instant—Slade is lunging at Flash, fist connecting with his face and sending the man flying backwards before he can try to block, the force would’ve sent you flying with Flash. 

Slade raises a hand to cup your cheek, though he never makes contact. His hand hovers just centimeters from your face, fingers twitching. You glance at a groaning Flash, the vaguely familiar heroes behind Slade—Nightwing, Arsenal, Wondergirl.. Aqua.. what was it… something water, something, you can’t remember, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all some sort of bleeding and injured from the awful man vibrating with power in front of you. 

Your chest tightens. Slade had always found your conscience to be amusing, deeply ironic for your ‘line of work’. 

Flash brought you here for a reason, a stupid reason—‘cause Slade especially doesn’t listen to you, but Flash was desperate, so you lean into Slade’s hand, raising yours to rest on his wrist. You jolt at the initial contact, a static-like shock startling you.  

“You need to stop this, Slade.” He steps back, but doesn’t remove his hand. You had expected his adamant refusal, for him to turn away and immediately going back to pummeling the heroes. You take advantage of his unusual reaction, using your free hand to tug at his mask, not fully removing it. Slade is shaking his head, “Not an option. I need you back.” You pause, middle of fiddling with removing his mask.

“You.. need me back?” He nods, “I can’t fuckin’ stand you seeing those fucking losers.” Slade is taking another step back, your hand has snapped from his mask to gripping him by the scruff of his fucking neck because what? The fuck is he saying! 

“You could just fucking apologize!” 

You could imagine Slade’s slow blink behind his mask before he is shaking his head. “No. I will just time travel to our first meeting.” He’s trying to shake you off, but absolutely not. What is this motherfucker thinking? 

“Absolutely not.” Your grip is tightening and he could rip away form you, but he isn’t. 

“Swear to fuck, Slade. You’re gonna get your ass out of that stupid suit and you’re gonna fucking apologize to me right now.” 

“Are we watching Deathstroke’s martial spat?” Arsenal is helping Nightwing stand, stilled just long enough to look towards you with concern through his broken sunglasses. 

“We are not married!” At the same time Slade is shouting, “Mind your fucking business!”

 “We aren’t even dating!” A quick addition that has Slade fully breaking from your grip, turning away and looking like he’s gonna bolt.

You refuse to give him the chance,  “Slade Joseph Wilson!” You’re jumping after him, wrapping your arms firmly around his neck and your legs around his torso, trying to knock him off balance but ending up with him just looking towards you, mask hiding his reaction. 

“No, no, no! You horrible old fuck! You are apologizing.” you’re twisting, trying to gain more leverage and removing his helmet, tossing it off to the side and slapping your hands against his cheeks. “You. Are. Apologizing.” You don’t allow him to shake his head, don’t allow him pry you off, though his efforts are half-assed. 

“I’m time-traveling.” Your nails are digging into his cheeks. This was the problem, he hasn’t changed, he hasn’t learned—he thinks that if he time travels, your relationship will magically be fixed but you know it will always end the same. He refuses to apologize now, he will refuse to apologize then. Slade would choose to lose you in every timeline than just fucking apologize! 

Your eyes mist, you shake your head in an attempt to stave off tears but know that it isn’t working. “It will still end here, ‘cause you will never change.” 

A muscle in his jaw stands out, “It’s all their fault. You wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t know if not for—” He is cut off when your arms wrap around his head, pulling his face against your collarbone as you bury your nose in his slightly sweat-damp hair, tousled and messy from the mask. 

“Slade. It’s all your fault.” Before he can argue, because Slade can never not have the last word, you’re continuing. “Can you just stop this ridiculousness?” your voice is weak, your pleading more of a pathetic whimper, “Take me home?” Silence, just the wind whistling, the faint groans of the heroes, the cracking of speedster electricity you can’t even begin to understand and honestly, really don’t care about—you’re just glad it’s not electrocuting you.

“Okay.” Slade sounds strained, his head shifts, likely looking at the carnage he has caused, then his rough hands are tightening around you to keep you in place as he begins to move. 

Slade is walking at first, stepping over crumbled remnants of buildings, moving past steel bars, then he is running and you squeeze your eyes shut as the world becomes a blur around you, the same nausea from the Flash overcoming you, though you’re slightly more adjusted and when you open your eyes again—you’re the familiar hallway of your apartment building. 

The bursts of lightning are fading out. Slade’s hand is sliding in the pocket of your jeans to fish around for your keys, you tell yourself that you’re allowing him to open your door and carry you into your apartment to save the world, to give the Titan’s a few extra hours of planning time but really, you just missed him. 

Every stupid piece of him. “You threw a pizza at me.” Slade is settling you on the bench at the foot of your bed, ensuring your back is supported by the flat board slat. 

“I’d kick you in the balls if it meant you wouldn’t go back to trying to destroy the world.” 

“I wasn’t destroying the world, just kickin’ around some brats.” 

“Which would’ve ended in the world ending. Also, you definitely beat up a bus driver, a server, whoever drives a gondola and—” Slade is dropping to his knees, looking at you with too much tightly coiled intensity. 

“I should not have left.” His palms are flat to the side of your thighs, thumb brushing against the fabric of your jeans “—you. I should have killed those men instead of just driving them off.” moment ruined. You push his forehead back with the flat of your palm, trying to stand but Shade hardly lets you shift.

“That ain’t an apology.” Slade is crowding you, situating a hand firm on your inner thigh when you attempt to cross your legs for any distance. 

“Sweetheart, that’s the closest you’re gonna get.” You pull his hair into your fist, “That’s your fucking problem.” You yank his head back, irritating growing with how his half-lidded eyes speak of nothing but lust at your aggression. 

“I got another problem you could fix..” His eyes trail down. Your eyes sting, you weren’t worth fighting for, you aren’t even worth an apology. You need distance, Slade seeing you cry isn’t an option. “You’re not getting shit from me til you apologize.” You snarl, using his guard being down to kick him right in his crotch, ‘cause fuck Slade can never be allowed to see you cry. 

Slade’s eyes widen and he falls forward, a sound so shrill it could’ve been a yelp escaping him. He would’ve landed on top of you if you hadn’t immediately stood, side-stepping as he groaned in pain. 

“Without time travel, you old fuck.” With your addition, you kick at his ass, trying to wedge your foot in the darkened space between his thighs, but he’s clenched them so tightly your foot just pushes him further into bench. 

“That’s fucked up even by my standards,” came the unhelpful sentence from your husband’s mouth.

“Did I ask? No. Help me gut this thing.”

“If I had a dollar . . .”

“Slade, I swear to god.”

He turned an incredulous eye to look at you. “Oh. I’m sorry. Am I the one who decided it would be a great idea to stick a brick of C4 inside a jack-o’-lantern?”

“It’s a good idea and you know it.”

“Who in their right mind takes one of these things inside? This isn’t going to work!”

Later, when the target’s house was leveled from the inside out just as the contract stipulated, you just turned and stuck your tongue out at him.

Fuck, you even worked with the god Damn justice league of all people. Everything had seemed to finally be good in your life

But even with that there was always doubt in the back of your mind

You could do better, sure you were a good hero but not a great one despite how much people tried to convince you of it

You could’ve done more to save others, your powers would never be good enough to be compared to the others no matter how much your worked

You felt inadequate in your own skin, in your own suit, with your powers

In some ways you felt stupid for feeling that way, Batman and Green arrow didn’t have powers and they were just fine

But it just kept simmering and simmering for you until a breaking point

You tried making a machine to help enhance your abilities, it was meant to push them to the next level as to make you more effective

To finally get rid of that stupid voice in the back of your mind

But it backfired badly, really badly

It ended up getting rid of your powers all together and nearly killed you in the process

You were powerless again, like you’d felt all your life until you became a hero

You were useless now

At best you’d maybe be put on tech support but why would they do that when they have someone like cyborg or Batman with his gadgets

So you left

You left your half vaporized and shredded uniform and gave up on being a hero until you’d be able to create a cure

Luckily no one knew your identity nor did you know theirs so you migrated into base where you began developing equipment

It went on like this for about a year until you needed money and you decided to sell some weapons

And Bane ended up buying from you

You justified it at first, that you’d make up for it when you got your powers back

But eventually it felt good…really good

And then you began selling to other villains and saw the demand they had for your schematics and machines

You felt powerful again, infact you felt more powerful than you did with your powers

And that’s where you realized that you don’t need powers to have power

All you needed was to create a supply and demand plus build partnerships with other certain people

And you were golden

As mentioned earlier Bane is your first buyer of all people

And thus the first to gain feelings for you

It’s a slow thing at first as it is for the other villains as well

What hooks his attention is your intelligence which is sadly a hard trait to find in the underworld

Your smart like him, frighteningly so

You create intricately made schematics and beautifully crafted machinery that helps enhance his venom

You even make the containers and tubes hooked up to him more durable

He likes that he can hold a conversation with you and can talk deeply about subjects which interest both him and you

For instance the topic of power

You respect him quite a bit, especially when learning of his childhood

And the respect is also mutual from him as well since he knows there more to you than meets the eye

Your a mystery to everyone, one that’s carefully crafted and sculpted from shadows and vague rumours

One in which he finds himself enraptured in as he begins to become more and more interested in you on a personal level

At some point while you adjust your new enhancements on him the talks become personal

And he finds himself leaning into your precise touch

And shit

Well he didn’t intend to end up this way but he can’t say that the feeling of his heart racing isn’t nice

It’s at this point when he realizes his feelings that he makes subtle moves

Like he pays a bit more than what was asked for, always writing it off as a tip for you excellent work

Giving you pet names in Spanish that have certain connotations

Hell, he even promises you protection should you need it along with promising that if you got into trouble he’d bail you out by force

The poor man is dropping hints faster than flies dropping from the sky due to a chemical leak

But you don’t catch on due to you thinking no one would actually like you other than in a business partnership way due to your still lingering insecurities

But dear god he’s getting real fed up with how you aren’t catching on at all

For as smart as you are, your kinda oblivious to everyone’s advances

Like he’s been calling you nicknames in Spanish with romantic connotations and you don’t bat an eye at it even though he knows you know Spanish?!!?

Don’t be surprised next you come over and see an indent in the wall from him bashing his head against it in fucking frustration

Though he presumes that also is something he enjoys with you, how despite your intelligence your still a emotionally stoic genius

He 100% uses the fact he bought from you first and knew you the longest to all the others after your cold unbeating heart

He really likes stirring the pot especially when seeing how pissed off he can make others

Oh it’s so fun to toy with them until they break

And he intends to do that until he’s the last one in this race standing though unfortunately that will be hard for him to do considering everyone else is just as invested in it

Slade is another bunch of your clients that buys your weapons quite frequently

He likes your work along with the fact that your punctual

Your never late nor do you waste time on bullshit to get to the point of the conversation

After spending a long time with people skirting around details and dilly dallying he finds it nice

Your just to the point and you don’t disguise your motives

Along with that your prices are fair and your weapons are worth it

You meet in secluded places with him, handing him over the weapons safely stored in a bag as he transfers the money to you

It’s during one of these meets though that it’s interrupted by some random thugs

Before he can even point blank shoot them you just take out the weapon from its case and takes care of them

Just blam

While he’s standing there thinking about how attractive that was lol

“We’ll I guess we can consider that a weapon test if your still interested in buying”

Yeah…seeing you absolutely decimate some poor fools with you own weapon, lab coat fluttering in the wind really hits something in him

And gets worse as times goes on and those private meets spaces end up eventually taking place in his apartment where he offers coffee (that you desperately need)

Slade goes through like 7 stages of denial and then accepts it one day as he realizes that others are after you too

It kinda gets worse when Rose ended up there once while you were advertising some new sniper scope and you suddenly go from stoic and emotionless to gently patching her up

And while he has a strained relationship with her at best he still cares for her more than he’d like to admit

And seeing that you care for kids and took to patching her wounds with care and a certain gentleness in your voice just kinda hits him hard and hrrnnnnjajajajajsjn

(👆🏻his brain)

He gets really competitive with everyone else cause when he has his sights set on something/someone he ain’t letting down easily

Meanwhile Rose is just watching from the sidelines. Like she may dislike her dad heavily but after the few encounters she’s had with you she likes you

So she’s kinda silently hoping that something good comes out of this

Either way she gets to watch him get stressed from half your clientele feeling the same way he does lol

At one point he legit asks you out on a date and you misinterpret that as “a work date where you can tell me of your newest items on the market”

Safe to say he’s a bit salty after that especially when he’s now been roped into buying a new rifle (though he does admit he needed a new one anyways)

What makes it worse is that he swears your flirting with him sometimes? Or at least you sound like your flirting with how you phrase shit and the tone of voice you use

Maybe he’s looking too much into your words but why must you say such hot evil shit

Plus your damn lab coat and black turtleneck combo is so fine

You don’t even know the hold you have on this man lol

Has 100% offered to give you a discount for any of his services should you need it

Like taking out competition but you just say you want to crush them via taking all their buyers yourself and watch them get panicky

by god he respects that sentiment and you get a good hardy chuckle out of him

While Harley and Ivy are a bit more relaxed than they were before their relationship that still doesn’t mean they don’t want to check out your stock especially since you also make stuff for plants

And of course ivy eats that up and Harley eats it up as well since it makes Ivy super happy

As they say happy wife girlfriend happy life

But as they casually shop from you Harley and Ivy begin to find your company quite fun!

You kinda begin to act as a counterbalance to Harley’s wild ideas and Ivy’s more controlled ones

You Find a middle ground for both of them in most situations and inventions made specifically for them

It’s then that they begin inviting you to their apartment, a place where you unwind a bit from the stress of everything

You’ve spent many a nights planning and building and selling so it’s nice to just relax and watch a movie with them

To watch a schlocky horror film sandwiched between the two women as you hold a popcorn bowl in your lap

Hyenas curled near your feet

Unsurprisingly they both kinda start catching feelings and both are much more in-tuned with their emotions than most other suitors and catch on quick that they got feelings

Now the thing about them as well is that both communicate with one another and when they both realize that the feeling is mutual they both decide might as well

These bi queens are working together on this but you ignore the signs cause a) their in a relationship with one another they couldn’t possibly like me and b) their just really affectionate with me cause I’m their friend

Honestly instead of frustrating them it just makes Harley laugh cause like “Puddin your smart but not that smart”

Both of them bond with you over the fact that they’ve also got high educations themselves!. Ivy in particular cause she give good tips on how to make your machines eco friendly

Listen you may be a criminal with morally grey sense of ethics but your not a complete asshole

Harley shows her interest through affection so be prepared for a lot of hugs, hand holding and even some kisses on the cheek if your comfortable with it

Giving you cheek kisses is hilarious to her cause how the fuck are you not catching on and it also pisses off the boys

She also LOVES nicknames. Once she’s friends with you she ain’t ever calling you by your name again, it’s just nicknames galore from then on out

As a sign of trust she actually asks you to look after bud and Lou (her hyenas) when she and ivy go away for whatever reason

At this point the two are big puppies around you and you have a soft spot for the two balls of spotted fur

At some point Harley kinda subconsciously psycho analyzes you just out of habit

And by doing that she kinda figured out that your inability to see all the hints thrown your way by several people stems from some insecurities

She’s not certain what caused said insecurities but she gets the sense that due to something in the past you can’t see others perceiving yourself as anything other than an ally or a necessity

You enjoy the feeling of being relied on and the power that comes with being in such a position but can’t distinguish and justify when others seek more than just what you offer resource wise

…she may be reading more inbetween the lines but it kinda worries her a lot

Especially since she doesn’t know what might’ve caused you to think of yourself in such a way

But she keeps that to herself and Ivy, instead focusing on doing her best to make you happy and help you catch a hint

Ivy on the other hand shows affection Via gift giving and words of affirmation

She gifts you small plants and succulents that you now keep in your lab, properly watered and cared for

They also serve as a subconscious sign for your to look after yourself as well

They stand out well against the cold purple tinted steel, vibrant green’s brining in a sense of life to the place

Your base up until that point had always been…lifeless. Nothing personalized there but with Ivy’s gifts they help give the place something that had been missing

Along with plants she also gifts a lot of skin care and general health goods as an extra little thing

She also compliments you a lot, saying how great you look and how great your inventions are

She really enjoys when she can see the smallest bit of pride swell up in your eyes as you thank her

Both find it hilarious when you say or do something vaguely flirty but don’t realize it until they say and you get all flustered

They also say “no it’s ok, in fact say more” and you take it as a joke not knowing their 100% serious

Harvey and Two-face once bought from you and had intended to have it as a one time thing but once meeting up with you had decided to change their mind via coin flip

What had gotten both their attentions was the sense of duality that they saw in you

More so how they got the sense you weren’t like this once upon a time but something in you changed

Just like Harvey

So they continue to buy from you, trying to kinda figure you out while also enjoying the supplies you sell

You treat them as their own separate entities, not thinking of one as the “good” side nor one as the “bad” side

Harvey himself engages and enjoys the activities egged on by Two-face, releasing his self control to not act on his every thought

The only thing with Harvey is that he feels the guilt afterwards and still sometimes prefers to work stuff out somewhat civilly if the situation calls for it

He likes you can see the difference, that he isn’t designated as “good” like most do with him

You talk with him about law, but more specifically the best legal loopholes he knows of which makes him laugh

It’s honestly been a long while since someone talked to him, to Harvey

You don’t bring up what happened to him as to not be insensitive but you do ask him about his favourite cases he’s worked on

Ones that specifically caught his eye or had the most batshit (pun intended) insane stuff that happened in it

His favourite one he told you was the one involving the theft of a car which somehow ended up turning into something completely ridiculous and somehow had a circus involved

Your laugh makes something bubble up in him, genuine joy from feeling seen along with making you smile despite the bags he’s sees under your eyes

You remind him of himself in more ways than one in both good and bad. Something that makes him worry

Back in his collage days he obsessively worked, studied and if it weren’t for Bruce he’d likely never actually socialize with anyone much

And he sees that with how your obsessed with your craft but also the fact you seem to be trying to prove yourself to someone (though he guesses that someone is yourself)

He’s always been a good judge of character, being district attorney does that to you along with being able to see through people

And he sees some deep rooted issues

You try, and try and your confident in your abilities but you keep pushing yourself. Like an eternal hunger, one which he felt once before as he tried to do better, to take on as many cases as possible to help more and more people

Wait why does he care so much….oh shi-

Yeah so he kinda blanks once he realizes this, full on fucking blue screen as your talking one day and then Two-face takes over absolutely cackling at Harvey finally fucking realizing what he’s know for like an entire month now

Two-face on the other hand knows what he wants and once he realizes that’s you he’s already buckled into this roller coaster and ain’t prepared to leave midway through

He digs deep into getting to know you, what makes you tick and trying to see the sides in which you try to bury away

You somewhat open up after some prying from him, what can he say? He’s good with words

Especially since Harvey knew how to butter people up good

You mention a bit about childhood, having nothing and not having control of your life, not having and power over it.

And then you had it and things were great. But the the doubt began to set in, you felt inferior to everyone else and in trying to get to their level you lost everything

You can deprive someone of something like good food and they wouldn’t crave it until they got a taste of it. And once they do they can’t go back to the shit they are before

Which is what had happened to you

But now your role here has given you back that again, that control and security which you now need more than anything

For who are we all if not creature that crave more

Well uh that was a lot but he can’t say he’s surprised much

Both of them really like your confidence, but Two-face especially finds it to be fun

Seeing you quite literally strut past his goons and place down your briefcase on his desk is really a sight he finds amusing

He also finds himself surprisingly soft when you do not fear staring at his “half” of Harvey. You don’t flinch at the slight of charred and burned skin nor the slight hint of burnt flesh that lingers

you don’t even seem to hesitate shaking his hand, something most would shy away from doing

It feels nice just being treated like he isn’t Frankenstein’s monster, a creation that should’ve been destroyed rather than created

Unlike the others I see both Harvey and Two-Face not really being big on making their feelings for you known

They’d bother rather stay on the sidelines as others squabble as they use that time to get closer

In that sense their much more subtle with their shared approach

But both of them have their own ways of expressing interest.

For Harvey’s his is more traditionally Romantic gestures, something he kinda picked up on from Bruce’s many endeavours and stories of how he charmed yet another woman

He writes you notes, formal yet genuine sentiment leaking into every word written on old yellowed paper

Perhaps even some gifts of Designer pieces of clothing he’d thought you’d like

Excusing it as “it didn’t fit us” or “just thought you’d like it”

He honestly gets a bit finicky when gifting these to you and whatever confidence he had slips away like sand between his fingertips

It only gets worse when you smile and accept it from him

Two-face on the other hand is more practical in his affection

Straight on telling you to your face that your attractive in both personality and looks

And supplying you with imports of supplies you need