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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Forever is the Sweetest Con~Cowboy Like Me steddie au (cw// Jason Carver is homophobic)

Eddie Munson thinks "con-artist" is such an ugly term for what he does (though he will admit there is quite a bit of artistry to doing it well). It's just, the idea that the truly, horrendously rich don't deserve to be swindled from time to time is fundamentally incorrect. Eddie studies the wealthy, carefully gathering tales of who they use, exploit, destroy all in the name of money, and he's made a life of taking them down a peg. He knows how to find the worst of them; how to woo them, seduce them; and take just enough to get away with it.

Like he said, it's an art.

He blows into town after reading the obituary for one Christopher Stephen Harrington IV, husband of Miriam and father of Stephen. He doesn't need to research the family to know that Miriam will be an easy target. Most widows of men like Christopher Stephen Harrington IV are after being locked into loveless marriages for the majority of their adulthood. They're looking for someone to pay them attention, sweep them off their feet. Eddie loves being that someone.

Eddie's first mistake is thinking that there will be anything easy about Miriam Harrington and the second is not taking into account her son. Eddie's only been in town for a few days when Stephen, Steve, shows up, and he is a revelation.

Steve is

Beautiful. Stupid. Throws money around like it's nothing, like he's begging to lose it. Fucks everything that moves.

It's not even a decision, not really, for Eddie to change his mark. Everything about the other man screams that he's desperate for love, for some kind of validation, and Eddie knows just how to give it to him.

It's not hard, seducing Steve Harrington. It barely takes a week before Steve gets Eddie alone in the formal dining room of the Harrington estate.

"There a reason you keep watching me?" Steve asks. He steps easily into Eddie's space, hazel eyes darkening to golden honey as the distance between them closes.

"Maybe I like what I see," Eddie answers. "Maybe I like it a lot."

Eddie leans down making his intent clear by letting his gaze drift from Steve's eyes to his mouth. He ignores the rapid beating of his own heart, the butterflies in his stomach, as he brings his mouth to the other man's. This means nothing, like every other seduction. Steve is a mark and nothing more.

Right before their lips meet, Steve's breath hitting his face and making his head swim with want, a strong hand grips his chin, the blunt edge of fingernails digging into his skin.

"You think I don't know what you're doing here, Eddie Munson?" Steve asks.

"Wha--"Eddie blinks, the words not making a ton of sense when his entire body is focused on kissing the beautiful man before him; takes him too long to realize that Steve's called him by his legal name.

He wrenches himself out of the man's grasp. "Who are you?" Eddie demands. "FBI?"

The look Steve shoots him is devoid of the dim party boy lethargy Eddie's become used to. It's calculating, quick, perceives way too much. It's also packed with sneering disdain. "Of course I'm not. I'm here for the same reason you are."

Eddie scoffs. "That seems unlikely."

"You know nothing about me, Munson. Just stay away from me and my mother and we'll be fine."

"Just your mother? You don't care about protecting any of your friends?"

"You heard me. Everyone else is fair game."

Eddie's head is too scrambled to protest, and his heart--his fickle, too-easily-swayed heart--throbs with longing.

"Fine," he manages. He flees the room, already refortifying the walls he's spent most of his life building.

✨✨✨✨

At 16, Steve Harrington was everything Eddie expected; spoiled, vapid, cruel, lazy, his entire life handed to him on a silver platter. His life of no consequences changed over night after his father found him in bed with another boy. He got thrown out, no money, no prospects, no life skills. Like so many before him, he fled to the city, but he was barely surviving. That was until he literally ran into one Robin Buckley fresh from poorly pickpocketing a finance bro. Robin took him in, taught him the ropes, and he devoted himself to making the rich pay for their sins.

It's no wonder that Steve and Eddie wind up targeting the same mark, Jason Carver. Jason is the worst of the worst. Handsome, entitled, clever only in ways that hurt, egotistical, desperate for power and prestige. Has a fiancee he treats like office furniture.

Steve uses their similarities to try to get close to Jason, but Eddie plays on his differences, on his nerdiness and confidence, hoping that Jason will find Eddie's fundamental weirdness too intoxicating to ignore.

Eddie's winning. And when he's not planning his slow seduction of Jason Carver, he's unwittingly learning more about Steve. The country club is running a summer youth program, open to the kids of all the citizens of Roane county. There's one feral group that Eddie has a soft spot for, made up of a bunch of dnd-playing nerd children, a quiet girl named El, and a fierce red-head named Max. He's surprised, one day, when he comes upon Steve and curly-headed Dustin Henderson, as Dustin explains some deep dnd lore to a bemused, but clearly attentive Steve. Next, he finds the man sitting with El and Max. El braids his hair while Max paints his nails a charming teal. Later, he sees Steve playing basketball with Lucas Sinclair, coaching him through some improvements on his form, fingernails still glinting with color.

He's so busy trying to put the pieces of Steve Harrington together, rich boy, con man, kind to children, that he doesn't recognize how dangerous Jason Carver is.

✨✨✨✨

Steve steps from the shower when there's a knock at his hotel room door. He's not expecting anyone, and that makes him nervous. He hasn't survived this long on his own without being cautious. He doesn't hesitate, though, when he sees his visitor is Jason Carver's fiancee, Christine Cunningham. They know each other, sort of, but they aren't close, and he's even more stunned by the tears streaming down her face.

"Chrissy?" He asks as he opens the door.

"Steve, you have to help. Jason's going to hurt him!"

Lead settles hard in Steve's stomach, no need to ask who the "him" is. "Where?"

"They went to Addison's Steakhouse. You know it?"

Steve nods. "I'll get him."

"Please," Chrissy begs. "I didn't think Jason would go through with it, but he kept talking about making Eddie pay, and--and--"

"I know," he says, because he does. "I'll get Eddie. He'll be okay."

When Steve slams into the private dining room of the steakhouse, Jason already has Eddie sprawled on the floor, lip split and bloody, and something inside Steve explodes. He launches himself at Jason, throwing the other man across the room.

Jason staggers. "What, you protecting this freak, Harrington? You know what he wanted with me?"

"I don't care, Carver, just get out of here."

"I heard rumors you were just like him," Jason spits, advancing on Steve.

"Seriously, man, I don't want to hurt you," he clenches his hands into fists.

Jason sneers, taking another step forward. "Like you even could. Everyone knows your dad kicked you out for being a fucking pussy."

It's all the motive Steve needs to punch him across the face with a sharp left hook. Jason collapses, clearly not having been punched anywhere near enough, and then Eddie is all Steve can see.

"Are you okay?" He drops to his knees, angling the man's jaw to get a better look at his injury.

"I was handling it, Harrington."

"Were you?" Steve asks.

Their eyes meet, linger, warmth growing in Steve's stomach.

They move in at the same time, Steve doing nothing to stop it this time, slotting their lips together with practiced slowness. Eddie's blood smears on his mouth, his chin; he gets some on his tongue and moans, pulling the other man closer, burying his hands in all that curly hair.

They fall into bed together like it's the most natural progression of things and, Steve thinks, it probably is. That moment all those weeks ago in his mom's dining room was just a prelude to this, to Eddie taking him apart so slowly, so carefully that it wrecks him, realigns his worldview, makes long dormant emotions surge to the surface so hard and fast that he's helpless to resist. By night's end, he's gone, totally enamored, heart snatched from his chest by Eddie's greedy, careful hands.

✨✨✨✨

Eddie wakes the next morning naked and in an unfamiliar room. For a second, he thinks his seduction of Jason Carver was a success, but then he feels the soft lips pressing against the back of his neck, and he remembers Steve. Steve lying under him, stars in his eyes, smiling up at Eddie; as he made the prettiest, neediest sounds; as Eddie moved inside him, as all his walls came tumbling down, as Steve Harrington ruined him for anyone else.

His mouth aches, the split in his lip still a little bloody. Without Steve around, Eddie would've noticed the danger Jason posed. Would've stopped the con before it got to the point of them being alone together, of Jason having the power to hurt him. If he hadn't been distracted, he could have avoided the very real threat of a beating.

He lurches out of the bed, away from Steve's soft touches.

"Eddie, what..." Steve starts, his voice all gentle.

"Don't," Eddie hisses.

"Don't?"

"Talk to me like we're in love." Eddie rips his hands through his hair.

"I--don't you--aren't--"

He makes the mistake of meeting Steve's eyes, see the love brimming in the golden brown.

"C'mon, Harrington. You're a great fuck and all, but it didn't mean anything."

Eddie watches as all that emotion, all those feelings are packed away, as Steve's pretty face relaxes into a careless blank.

Nausea twists at Eddie's stomach.

"Yeah, whatever," the other man says.

Eddie finds his clothes strewn across the floor, can't stand to watch Steve for another second. Needs to squash all the things rocketing around in his chest."You can't catch feelings so easy in our line of work. You should know better."

Steve snorts. "Don't waste your time worrying about me, Munson."

"Right," Eddie agrees. He stuffs his feet in his shoes. "Well, see you around, Harrington."

Steve doesn't respond and Eddie can't bear to look back.

Once in the elevator, he collapses back against the wall, driving the flat of his palms into his eyes to force away the tears that want to fall. Guys like Steve aren't for him; love isn't for him. He needs to drill that back into his head before someone gets even more hurt.

✨✨✨✨

It's the day of Miriam Harrington's mid-summer party and Eddie's skipping town. This whole endeavor was a bust. He's going home to lick his wounds (both mental and physical), and start over somewhere else. He hasn't seen Steve much since their night together, and that's just another reason to get out of dodge.

He shows up to the party, though, about two hours late. It's foolish, dangerous, but he can't leave without saying goodbye to Steve.

It's one of those black and white balls, and Eddie's in fitted black trousers and a velour suit jacket the color of fresh blood. The guys at the doors don't want to let him in, but Eddie doesn't care, just walks past them, ignoring their protests.

Big, white tents are stretched over the country club tennis courts, and the dancing is already in full swing. Eddie sticks to the edges of the ballroom floor, eyes skipping over swaying couples, searching out the only one he wants to see.

Steve is there, easily found by his chestnut hair that's swept into an artful swoop. He's dancing with Nancy Wheeler, sister of one of the feral dnd children, holding her close as they sway to the mid-tempo song. Eddie watches as the music draws to a close, as Steve smiles at Nancy with soft fondness, and his heart stutters. That's what Steve deserves, who he deserves it with, not someone like Eddie, all rough edges and layers of barbed-wire protecting his too-soft heart.

Nancy walks off, leaving Steve alone in the middle of the dance floor. Eddie is quick to take her place.

"Dance with me, Harrington?" He asks.

Steve turns and when he spots Eddie, his face does many complicated things before falling into the mask that Eddie's now too familiar with.

"Dancing is a dangerous game," Steve responds. He raises an eyebrow, carefully bland.

"I think I'll risk it." Eddie pulls Steve close and they slip together like they had that night in Steve's hotel room.

They dance and everyone else in the room falls away, until it's only them, only this, only the the stars dancing in Steve's eyes as he gazes at Eddie like Eddie's precious, special, worth something.

They're close enough to rest their foreheads together, but Eddie can't bring himself to make any move that will take Steve's eyes out of his view. The song plays, and they hold each other, and they don't speak, neither wanting to ruin the moment with words. Eddie lets a hand trace the strong contours of Steve's jaw, and he knows he's in love. Hopelessly, helplessly.

As the last note of the song swells, Eddie presses a thumb to Steve's pouty bottom lip, and he feels the rush of air as the other man gasps.

Eddie lets himself smile, just a bit, before closing the remaining distance between them, slotting his lips to Steve's in a sweet, soft kiss.

He pulls away without a word, turning and disappearing into the crowd before Steve opens his eyes.

It's for the best, Eddie tells himself as he drives away, knowing he's leaving his heart behind forever.

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kingluffy5 · 3 months

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Playing Detectives Pt 3 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

Finally starting to move a few steps forward into their investigation Y/N have discovered the existence of a secret society, found the second half to the drawing the details their destiny, and while they were at it they knocked Wednesday’s mortal enemy down a peg, however they have just been seemingly kidnapped.

The two of us are now tied to couple of chairs, after the bags are ripped off of our heads a projector is used to shine light into our eyes and in front of us stand several hooded figures wearing masks, most of whom are clearly people we know.

“Who dares breach our inner sanctum.” Bianca says distorting her voice

“You can take the mask off Bianca.” Wednesday replies.

Everyone takes off their own masks as well, Bianca, Ajax, Xavier, Yoko, Divina, even Jack, Jason, Gwen, and Amelia are there.

“Wait I preferred you with it on.” Wednesday says, which me, Jack, and Jason laugh at.

“How did you get down here?” Xavier asks.

“Rowan showed us.” I respond.

“Left pocket.” Wednesday says.

Xavier walks over and takes the drawing out of her pocket and unfolds it.

“We tracked the watermark down to the Poe statue and then we solved the riddle.”

“Wait there’s a riddle? I thought we just snap twice.” One of them questions.

“Well aren’t you the brightest in the bunch.”

“The Nightshade are an elite social club, emphasis on elite.” Bianca says.

“We have roof parties, campouts, the occasional midnight skinny dip.” One of the says.

“And Yoko is an amateur mixologist.” Another says.

“She makes a killer virgin mojito, it can get pretty wild.”

“Wow do you guys even have a bed time, last I heard the Nightshades have been disbanded.” Wednesday says sarcastically.

“Yeah, the group kind of lost their charter thirty years ago after some normie kid died.” Xavier answers.

“But we have a lot of wealthy alumni so Weems looks the other way as long as no one makes any waves.” One of them answers.

“Wait how come none of you guys ever told me about this?” I ask my siblings and cousin.

“We tried to you just never cared to listen to us.” Jason answered.

“Name one time.” I challenge, seriously I pay attention to them and care about what they’re up to, I find it hurtful they don’t think that.

“A few months ago when I first joined I tried to tell you but you said you were busy reading.” Gwen says.

“One month ago we were going to invite you to take the pledge but you said you couldn’t talk because you were going to beekeeping.” Jack says.

“I literally was about to invite you for the third time to take the pledge last week but you said you had to go down to your forgery.” Amelia points out

“You have a forgery?” Wednesday asks.

“Yeah Weems lets me have as long as nobody gets stabbed and all the swords I make stay in there.” I explain.

“We’re getting off track here what is your history with Rowan?” Wednesday asks.

“We booted that loser last semester, question is what are going to do with them?” Bianca says. “Only members are allowed in this library.”

“I say we invite her to pledge.” Xavier says. “She has a legacy.” He then points to a picture of Wednesday’s parents when they went here.

“What about me?” I ask.

“We could invite him too.” Gwen suggests.

“After the crap she pulled in the Poe Cup there’s no way in hell, we talk about not making waves she’s a tsunami, and Y/N is like her shadow.” Bianca says rejecting us, I personally think of me and Wednesday as equal partners so the shadow comment wasn’t appreciated, especially with the glare I earned from Xavier after it.

“Just because I beat you at your own game, let me save you the trouble, I’m not interested in joining.”

“Me neither.” I say.

“You’re seriously turning us down.” One of them says sounding offended.

“Can you believe it.” Wednesday says sarcastically.

“Untie them.” Bianca orders.

“We freed ourselves five minutes ago.” Wednesday says as we hold up the ropes and I flip them off.

We then get up and hand our ropes to Xavier, as we make our way to the staircase one of them blocks our way, this one had a black eye, I don’t know how they got it but I have a feeling Wednesday was involved.

“Do you want a matching black eye?” She threatens as I crack my knuckles.

We then make our way up the stairs before Wednesday stops. “It’s amateurs like you who give kidnapping a bad name.”

We then leave.

— — —

I’m now sitting in my next Therapy session having to deal with avoiding some of Kinbott’s exercises.

“What does this ink blotch look like?”

“The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.”

“And this one Y/N”

“The birthmark on my uncle’s ass.”

She sighs and puts the cards down on her lap. “Y/N, we’ve been having our sessions for half a year at this point, and we barely made any headway, so stop bullshiting this and for once give me a straight answer.”

“We have made progress, several weeks ago we realized a trigger for my panic attacks are moments where I feel guilty for some reason or another.” I point out.

She just holds up the card, I sigh and take a good look at it. “A cat and a bird.” I answer.

“Hm, that answer indicates that the patient is holding onto guilt from a traumatic experience they believe is there fault, what do you think is that experience?”

“I have no idea.” I lie through my teeth, I know perfectly well what it is, and I don’t have any intention on telling anyone.”

We run out the session talking about stuff that has been going on at school and stuff.

— — —

Me and Wends are standing out in the quad holding the drawing of the two of us and the pilgrim surrounded by fire up to where the events are apparently going to take place.

We were also out in the quad because of Weems’ announcement, we will all be doing jobs around Jericho as part of, in my opinion, the most horrible part of the year, outreach day. But today we have to deal with going to some unveiling of a statue in the town, it will have performances by Nevermore students, I know Enid and Gwen are doing one of the performances so I’ll watch for them.

Now we are getting handed the envelopes saying where we are working.

“Yes, I got Pilgrim World, I do have natural people skills and a love of preforming so it’s kind of the obvi choice. What did you guys get.” Enid asks us.

“I got the Weathervane.” I answer.

“Euriah’s heap, whatever that is.” Wednesday says causing Enid to grimace.

“It’s this weird creepy antique store, you’ll like it though, I’m crossing my claws Ajax and I get paired together.” Enid says excitedly.

We then look over at him and Xavier and I hear him say he’s got the Weathervane as well, that should be fun.

Enid leaves and Weems comes over and tells Wednesday that she will be playing her cello alongside the Jericho high school band.

We hop on one of the vans to Jericho.

Wednesday goes to talk with Xavier while he’s staring some blank wall and I go off to explore a little.

We then go sit at the town square as the Mayor thanks us for our generosity and makes some corny joke before Weems dismisses us.

“Enid switch volunteer assignments with me.” Wednesday asks her.

“No, Euriah’s heap is definitely not my bag.”

“It’s an emergency I need to check out Pilgrim World.”

“But Wednesday this isn’t a fair trade why would I agree to spend the entire day at some dumpy emporium of crappola.”

“Because Ajax is going to be there, Thing took sneaked a peek at his assignment, but if you’re not interested.”

“No, oh my god, thank you, you’re the best.” Enid thanks her before running off.

“Good luck at Pilgrim World, I got that one last year a lot of Normies work there and they hate Nevermore kids.” I warn before we part ways.

— — —

I’ve been working here for about an hour and nothing really special has been going on, when Tyler tried to show me and Xavier how to make the coffee I showed him I already know how. I saw Weems, Thornhill, and the Mayor talking for a little bit but I didn’t really care what they were talking about, probably just boring stuff about taxes or bills or whatever adults talk about.

When I catch Xavier glaring again at me I decide that enough is enough.

“Look man, either you can actually yell at me or you can keep pouting like a baby, which will it be.”

“I don’t know, so far pouting seems to be doing just fine.”

“What is up with you, we never really hung out but now it feels like you hate me.”

He then sighs and leans against the counter. “Honestly I’m just jealous of you and Wednesday, somehow you made it so she doesn’t hate being around you at every moment.”

“Dude me and Wednesday aren’t dating if that’s what you’re worried about, we’re just looking into Rowan and the monster.” I answer, I don’t know why but when I say that me and Wends aren’t a thing I feel a little twinge in my chest.

“Yeah she was asking about him and Crackstone earlier.”

“Crackstone?” I ask.

“Jeez, it’s like I’m the only one who knows anything about him, he founded Jericho, he was in some picture she was looking at that had you two in it as well.” He tells me.

“Thanks, that’s really helpful, and me and Wednesday are really only friends, we cool?” I ask him.

“Yeah we’re good.” He says.

“Hey you ever gonna tell everyone what happened to your eye, I know it happened a few years ago and that you missed a few weeks of school for it but other than that not even Enid knows?” He asks.

“Nah, and no offense we may have just gotten back on good terms but if I ever finally tell everyone what went down with my eye it most certainly won’t be you.”

We share a quick laugh before he walks off to help a customer.

I help a few more customers before Wednesday walks in, sadly she’s in her Nevermore uniform, I would have paid anything to see her in the Pilgrim uniform, Eugene better have grabbed me a picture.

Xavier went to greet her, but she quickly turned him away, saying she’s there to talk to Tyler.

“You know the original pilgrim meeting house from the 1600s, do you know if it’s still around?”

“What’s left of it is out in the woods but it’s pretty much in ruins.”

I finally walk over to them and look at the map.

“Show us.” She says, he points to where it is.

“But it’s kinda sketchy, squatters and methheads use that place as a crash pad, my dad has to clear it out every couple of weeks, what’s this about?” he asks.

“Nothing.” She says.

“You guys are really becoming obsessed with this whole monster in the woods thing.”

“Would you rather I developed an obsession with horses and boy bands? Thank you for the help.”

I go to grab my stuff to tag along while Tyler says he could take her later which she rejects, why do I feel happy that she turned him down.

“I’m taking my lunch brake boss.” I tell Tyler tossing the ridiculous apron behind the counter as I walk out with Wednesday, I notice Xavier looking at us, I swear if he still thinks me and Wednesday are dating I will trash his art studio.

— — —

We arrive at the ruins of the old pilgrim meeting house and start to investigate.

Thing signs that he was expecting more when an old homeless guy asks her who she’s talking too, Thing manages to scare him off by grabbing onto his throat.

We look around a little more before Thing asks if she can control her visions.

“No, I can’t just touch something, my visions happen spontaneously.”

He then signs that she should ask her mom for advice.

“I’d rather dye my hair pink then ask my mother for advice, oh you want me to prove it to you.” She then goes around touching various parts of the ruins before grabbing a Taco Bell bag, sarcastically saying it would give them some real insight, and faking a vision. For as closed off and deadpan as she is, Wends has a great sense of humor.

“We could still give it a shot.” I suggest.

“No, my visions are about as predictable as a shark attack.” She remarks walking away, but when her hand touches the door she has another vision causing her to fall, I catch her and lay her down on the ground. While she’s out I decide to make small tall with Thing.

“How do you get you’re nails to look so good?” I ask

‘Me and Enid give each other manicures.’ He signs

“Ah.”

‘What makes your family outcasts?’ He asks

“We are wizards but we mostly focus on alchemy and runes.” I answer

We then spend a while just chatting about mine family and his and Wednesday’s.

“It looks like it’s going to rain, maybe we’ll get lucky and have to miss the statue thing” I say looking at the sky.

Wednesday bolts up looking shocked. “Thing, Y/N I saw her, the girl from my visions, her name is Goody Addams and I believe she is my ancestor from 400 years ago.”

Now, if I went to any other school and befriended any other girl, then this would sound insane, but since I don’t I wasn’t as shocked as one might have been hearing this, I was still shocked, but not as shocked.

We then get up as it started to rain and we heard sounds coming from outside, we look and suddenly the monster reveals itself. As quickly as it appears it runs off. We run after it and followed it’s tracks, but something strange happened, the tracks started shifting from that of the monster to human tracks.

“The monster is human.” Wednesday thinks out loud.

“What the hell are you doing?” Xavier asks holding his umbrella suddenly appearing from out of nowhere.

“We were following the monster.” Wednesday answers.

“Wait you saw it, it’s here, you have a death with or something?”

“What exactly are you doing out here?” Wednesday asks him.

“I heard you were checking out the old meeting house, guess I’m just lucky when I did.” He says as if we couldn’t have handled it ourselves.

“We did learn one thing, the monster is human, it’s tracks turn from monster prints to human ones.”

“Show me.”

We turn to show him but the rain washed the tracks away, Xavier scoffs at that.

“We know what we saw.” Wednesday says.

“I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

“How big of you.”

“I think you may be right about Rowan.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I ask him.

“I texted him again today, said maybe we should meet up over spring break and go snowboarding like we did last year, only this time he texted right back and said he wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Only you never went snowboarding last year.” Wednesday realizes.

“Part of me wanted to blame his recent weirdness, I didn’t want to think that something bad had happened.”

“The cover up is always worse than the crime.” Wednesday says.

“I need you to be honest with me, why did you guys come out to the old meeting house in the first place.”

“We were trying to lean more about Crackstone, figure out how he’s connected to all this.” I say.

“Yeah and you were trying to use your psychic abilities, right.” He says to Wends.

“What makes you think I have any?” She asks.

“Lucky guess, when did they start.”

“About a year ago, when they happen it feels like I’m touching live wire, I usually enjoy that sensation.” She says

“Yeah, but you can’t control it and that freaks you out.” He says “My dad’s a psychic.”

“Vincent Thorp, my brother’s his number one fan.” She reveals. “Watched his Vegas special so many times I’m surprised it’s not imprinted on his eyeballs.”

“So I’ve lived with the self described master and the first thing he’ll tell you is that the visions can’t be trusted, they only show you one half of the picture.”

“I saw Joseph Crackstone as clearly as I’m seeing you now, he gathered all the outcasts in the meeting house and burned them alive.”

“Okay he was a sadistic asshole, so what it was 400 it has nothing to do with now.”

“But what if it does, you saw Rowans drawing, Crackstone was standing in the quad.”

“Your creating a story in your head and using visions to back it up, they’re showing you what you want to see.”

“Are you mansplaning my power?” She asks rhetorically.

“All I’m saying is my dad, the expert, would tell you that psychic ability isn’t rooted in logic, their triggered by emotions, and let’s be honest emotion isn’t your strong suit.”

“I believe Rowan was right, something bad is going to happen and we need to stop it.” Wednesday says referring to the two of us. “Starting with that monster, whoever it is.”

We walk off to go to the town square where for some reason it looks like it never rained and me and Wends were completely dry.

Wednesday went to go set up her Cello while I went to go sit by me family.

“Where are you and Wednesday coming from?” Gwen asked.

“The old meeting house in the woods, we were looking into some stuff and found out that the monster is actually human.” I say

“That’s crazy.” Amelia said shocked.

“That’s what Xavier said when he showed up.” I pointed out.

“Did he really have to be a cockblock for such a romantic date.” Jack said teasingly.

Eventually the Mayor starts to make his speech so I take that as my signal to doze off.

I thought I heard something and when I looked over my shoulder behind the stands I see thing light a match and throw it onto a trial of gasoline, this trail led into the statue’s fountain feature causing it to explode.

While most people ran away me and my family were laughing our asses at the fact the Wends stayed to play her Cello.

— — —

After the explosion Wends was sent to Weems’ office. After that Enid had her date with Ajax and I went to sleep, but not before congratulating Wends on a job well done in Jericho today, turning a dreadfully boring assembly into something truly entertaining. I’m also excited to start making some real progress on the case, figuring out who Rowan’s imposter is and who this monster is, are they the same person are they even connected. Who is it, and what is their goal.

#wednesday #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday oc #wednesday x male reader #wednesday x reader

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skyfall8600 · 2 years

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Pretty Hero Pt. 2

Pair: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, mentions of past assault, smut

Masterlist

Part 1

Recovery was a slow and painful process for Eddie. The first thing to heal properly was his face, much to your enjoyment. Most of the bruising and swelling are almost fully gone.

Between classes, you decided to skip a few periods to go visit him in the hospital. The first few days were the hardest, he could barely move and needed 24/7 care.

“And then we wrap this one around his abdomen, like this.” The nurse said, giving you instructions on how to care for him. You sat there in silence, unsure why she was showing you this. Your eyes are glued to his body, toned and muscular even under all the bandages. “Mr. Munson, you are very lucky to have such a caring girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened and you wanted to crawl into a hole. Nothing was official between the two of you yet, you hadn’t even kissed yet.... but you’ve practically seen him naked.

“Oh she’s not my girlfriend yet,” he smiled looking at you, “I think she’ll be promoted to it soon though.”

You found that he always had a way with words. “Oh is that so?” You responded.

He nodded, “You just can’t get enough of all this.”

You laughed, thanking the nurse when she excused herself. “Haven’t even taken me on a proper date yet.”

“Oh, you wound me. Here I was thinking that every time you visited was a date.”

His smile was addictive, you loved looking at the soft lines that formed around his mouth and the ever-so-slight dimples that appeared. He slowly became your safe place; not wanting to go home and deal with your shitty father, you didn’t mind being stuck in an old hospital room with him.

“Did he figure out it was you yet?” he questioned you, repositioning himself against his pillows.

“Nope. Turns out a LOT of people have it out for Jason.” your smug persona flooded back into you. “I also may have started a rumor to help get him off my scent... not my proudest moment, but hey-”

He snorted, his dark brown eyes glistening at you. “Who’d you pin it on?”

“Some jerk from the other public high school a town over. He was rather forceful with me a few weeks ago and thought it was time I repaid the favor.”

Three days after his arrival, Eddie was discharged from the hospital. He had to stay on crutches for a few more weeks to help his broken leg. His uncle, Wayne, couldn’t get the time off work to take him home during the regular hospital hours, so you volunteered. Eddie was hesitant to begin with, he really liked you and he didn’t want you to see how he lived.

“You really don’t have to.” He tried to argue.

“Please, I brought you here. I stayed with you as you recovered. And you think taking you home pushing the line?” You laughed, helping him into your car.

“No- I- I live in the trailer park and don’t want you to see that.” He admitted, refusing to meet your eyes.

“And what, you think I live in some big fancy house with a white fence and a swing on the front porch? Eddie, I don’t care where you live. I’m actually not too far from the trailer park... it’s just me and my dad, and with how his drinking is going, I don’t think we’ll be able to keep our house much longer.”

He looked at you, feeling as though he was seeing a completely different side to you. The both of you knew that sorry wouldn’t change anything, you’re both from shitty circumstances and doing the best you can.

Outside of his trailer was a particular someone waiting for him. Your blood boiled instantly, grabbing the pocket knife from where it was secured at your ankles.

“You had that the entire time?!” Eddie whispered.

He was in no state to get out of the car and face his own battles. “Stay here okay? I’ll deal with him.”

“What? Y/n wait!”

You moved quickly, “What do you want?”

Your voice was different, meaner, and straight to the point.

Jason only laughed, “He’s got you as his own personal bodyguard now? Didn’t peg you as that type of girl, Y/n. I heard the freak was coming home today, thought I should make sure he knows how to keep his stupid mouth shut.”

He was leaning up against the front door of Eddie’s trailer. “I think you’ve done enough Jason. Besides, it's daylight. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you being mean to an innocent girl, would you?”

You had to be smart. Quick.

He walked towards you slowly, you could hear movement as Eddie was struggling to get out of the car. “I’d be fucking careful if I were you. Wouldn’t want it to end up like freshman year all over again”

Empty threats. That’s all they were. You had to remind yourself of that.

“I’m not defenseless anymore you fucking prick.”

“I heard all about it though, how many there were.... how much of a beating you took purely because you didn’t put out. Dumb fucking mistake-”

He went to grab your wrist but you were quicker. Your foot made contact with his kneecap and you were sure you heard a snap, you maneuvered his arm to be restrained behind his back. Face slammed into the dirt.

“If I hear you’re causing trouble for anyone, I’ll make sure your face matches the side of your car. Got it?” You whispered to him.

He was fighting back tears, trying to not show that he was in pain. Refusing to respond, you grabbed his head lifting it off the ground before slamming it back down with full force. “Ah!” he screamed.

“You ever try to touch me again and I’ll cut your goddam dick off. Regardless of how small it is.” You moved off him, watching him limp away to his car. “Fucking coward, always running away. Never fight your own battles huh?!”

“You stupid bitch!” was the only thing he could respond with. His driving was sloppy, clearly having a dislocated knee wasn’t helping. Once he was out of sight, you returned your attention back to Eddie.

He was stunned, looking at you. “I knew... I knew you helped me that night with him, but I was too far gone to see you do it. Jesus- That was- that was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

You helped him into his trailer, “This time was a little more bloody, I only knocked him to the ground and pulled my knife on him last time.”

He was glad he was crouched over because of the crutches, his arousal out of sight from you.

“I um... I heard him mention something about freshman year- you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to... I just- never mind, it’s rude of me, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said sternly.

He nodded, “that’s fine. I... sorry.”

He thought he ruined his chances with you now. You turned cold so quickly, the memory of that night burning into it. You refused to ever talk about, to ever recall what happened. The pain and disgust you feel even considering what happened always made you nauseous. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault. You could tell he was just curious and worried about you.

“Thank you again, for being my Hero.” He said, trying to get things back to normal between you. “Fucking badass.”

You laughed softly, eyes watering. Maybe everything was starting to get too much to bare on your own. You never confided in someone. You never had anyone in your corner, checking on you and cheering you on. But, that’s what Eddie became.

Without thinking, you hugged him. Baring your face into his chest, the tears came out slowly. He said nothing, holding you for as long as you needed. God, you couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged you.

You pulled back, going to wipe your tears away but he bet you too hit. His hands were rough, the coldness of the rings made a chill run down you.

“Although you’ve been my protector twice now, you don’t have to be strong all the time in front of me.” He whispered, kissing you against your forehead.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry-”

He hushed you, “Nothing to apologize for, okay?”

You nodded, bringing your eyes to meet his. There was something different about them this time. It was like you finally understood each other. There was love and care behind his gaze.

He wanted to kiss you so badly, to make the bad memories fade away. But he didn’t want to push any boundaries between you.

You wanted to kiss him too, and frankly... you didn’t care about anything else. You pulled his head closer to you and kissed him gently, feeling him melt into you the second your lips touched.

With one hand supporting himself up on his crutches, his other hand made its way to cup the connection between your face and your neck. Your hands ran through his hair and you could feel his pulse against the veins in his neck.

What started out as a slow kiss, escalated quickly to become more passionate and aggressive. Both of you need so much more.

You found comfort in each other. A peace that neither of you had ever had.

Your bodies pressed up against each other. He fought through the slight pain he was feeling, you were worth every second of it. You enjoyed feeling the effect you had on him, your own arousal heating up inside you.

He whimpered, forcing himself to pull away. “We- we should stop.”

He almost didn’t want to say it. You looked at him with confusion in your eyes, slightly hurt and embarrassed. Did he not want his?

You put space between the two of you quickly, to which he realized how his words would have sounded to you. “No! I want to. I really want to keep kissing you and make you feel good because you deserve the fucking world, I just- I want to be able to do that to my full ability and the moment... I’m too broken and bruised to treat you like how I want to.”

That’s when you remembered the condition he was in, “Oh my god, did I hurt you!? Fuck Eddie I’m so sorry-”

He clasped his hand on your mouth. “Totally fucking worth it. Do. Not. Apologize. For. That.”

You couldn’t help but smile against his hand. “Okay.”

With one final, softer, and quicker kiss between you. You fully relaxed in his embrace.

In some way, he was your Hero just as much as you were his.

______________________________________________________________________

A/N: So many people requested a part 2 so here it is!

Eddie Munson Taglist

@fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22 @yearwalker96 @magicalchocolatecheesecake

Pretty Hero Taglist

@enbyoddity @3holes4jotaro @onlylauraa @meaganjm @ungracefularchimedes

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson blurb

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

Headcanon that everyone within the family may think of Dick as the one most in their father’s favor, but Dick is keenly aware that the general public thinks of him as their father’s ‘Consolation Prize.’

After all, when from their perspective he’s the one Bruce raised since he was eight as his ward, with that dissolving when he was eighteen and very little perceived contact between the two of them for years after that, while Jason was adopted soon after being taken in and Dick was then later adopted years after Jason’s death, without any public fanfare.....

What does that look like other than Bruce ‘settling’ for the son who didn’t appear to be his first choice, just chronologically first, once he lost Jason but still needed/wanted an heir, as he was getting older and the general public still didn’t know yet how closely tied Tim was to the family or that it wouldn’t be long after this that Bruce adopted him too?

Now granted, you can definitely perceive the above as overly angsty and not the only way this situation was likely to be perceived outside the family, but my point is more that like.....nobody ever presumes that the general public are overly kind or generous in their views or assumptions about the Wayne family behavior. I just don’t buy that people assumed there was some optimistic explanation for the way things appeared here, or that people just went “oh its probably because the kid who grew up in that house the longest just doesn’t WANT to be adopted by the billionaire and have all the security that brings, and that’s also clearly why he lives in Bludhaven of all places and a shitty apartment building at that.”

I mean, no matter what WE the readers may know of Dick’s personal priorities and how little he cares about where he lives or that Bruce would have willingly paid for him to have a better place to live if he really wanted it, is that what people are most likely to assume, based on appearances?

Anyway, I’m just saying, I bet it bugs the crap out of Dick to hear his siblings casually refer to him as so obviously enjoying favored son status and being the clear apple of Bruce’s eye, as he’s like, cue internal monologue: gee, sure wish I was as confident of that back during the years he seemed to want nothing to do with me.

Like I’ve said before, I think Dick isn’t actually super insecure and his insecurities such as they are mostly revolve around how his family and friends perceive him, not the general public.....BUT I do think that with as high profile as the Waynes are, there’s no way that nobody picked up on how little contact Dick and Bruce had in the continuities where they literally went over a year without even speaking to each other....and like, felt free to draw their own conclusions.

And I do think this is also part of why I default to thinking a lot of canon takes and headcanons tend to gloss over how shitty Gotham public could be in their views/treatment of Dick. Like just because Dick was basically trained from birth to be able to work a room and entertain people while in their direct presence, that didn’t actually make him ‘one of them’ in their eyes, and I reeeeeeaally don’t think you can actually underestimate the pettiness and jealousy one percenters feel when they see someone they inherently view as lesser than them - as they would’ve viewed both Dick and Jason due to their lower class births - like....’leap frogging’ over them into greater wealth via being taken in by Bruce.

Like, idk, maybe it just comes from having been a scholarship kid who went to a richy rich private high school attended mostly by the children of senators and hotel-chain owners, lol, but like.......I can not for a second picture Gotham’s upper class actually LIKING Dick or being as charmed by him as they frequently are depicted as, just because Dick knows how to be charming and likable. Like they might play it that way when in public at a gala, for appearances or whatever....but the second he turned around they’d be badmouthing him at juuuuust a high enough volume to ensure he’d be able to HEAR them but not be able to call them on it without it looking like he went back and provoked a scene over something ‘nobody else around them heard them say’ or whatever. Just to make sure that no matter how well he came across in public social settings, he never ‘forgot his place’ or whatever or forgot that they were all too aware of it too.

And also also, it always kinda bemuses me that as much focus as the Court of Owls and Talons get in Dick’s narratives in canon and fic, that we’ve barely ever seen any examination of what the Court retroactively means for Dick’s years growing up around upper class Gothamites who likely included more than a few Court members.....like, we KNOW years later that like, all along there were these people who even without knowing who Batman and Robin were, like, knew Dick Grayson was their ‘Gray Son’ and intended to claim him as their weapon someday, and you can’t tell me that wouldn’t have factored into how they viewed and interacted with a child and teenage Dick Grayson as they attended many of the same social gatherings and functions. OR that Dick himself in the aftermath of the Court of Owls reveal, didn’t look back at his OWN childhood and reflect on how many creepy or uncomfortable encounters he had with various socialites that left him feeling decidedly skeeved out and not a fan of how they were looking at him or things they might have said to him, thinking themselves oh so clever for alluding to things he had no idea about......like, I imagine there had to be more than a few encounters from his younger years that always stuck with him, and after the Court of Owls revelation like....looked TOTALLY different to him, especially if he happened to know for sure that some of those very people were in fact Court members. BUT I DIGRESS.

All in all though it all circles back to the same thought for me.....people might have been polite to Dick’s face when he was growing up, but they most likely had plenty of shit to say the second his back was turned, and I doubt they were afraid to be overheard by him. Especially in his later years, once people noticed how distant he and Bruce seemed to be, and thus perceived that as meaning that nineteen year old Dick Grayson wasn’t as ‘protected’ by Bruce the way he was when he was younger.....meaning the people who were most jealous of Dick’s ‘catapulting’ up the social ladder and eager to knock him down a peg because of that, like....probably would have looked at the relative lack of contact between he and Bruce as far as anyone could publicly tell, and felt emboldened enough by that to up their snide whisper game with shit like gossipping about how oh, the Grayson boy may be back in Gotham again, but we all know he’s just poor Brucie’s consolation prize anyway, why, if he really cared all that much about the boy, he’d hardly have ever let him run off to Bludhaven of all places, without even making sure to staple the advantages and opportunities granted by the Wayne name to him the way he made sure to right off the bat with the younger one.....

So yeah. There’s my angsty musings on how Dick likely is perceived by Gotham public at large, and how his interactions with them - especially when NOT around Bruce and Jason and the rest of his family....probably very much does not match up with what they assume public perception of Dick is, given that in their eyes ‘everybody loves Dick Grayson,’ but in Dick’s experience ‘everybody may be charmed by Dick Grayson while he’s doing his best to be charming,’ but don’t mistake that for acceptance. Not when Gotham’s public are just as likely to dismiss him as the second choice Wayne heir and consolation prize to make themselves feel more important/elevated than him the second their own insecurities have them feeling intimidated by the wealth, power and prestige Dick does actually share in by virtue of being part of Bruce’s family.

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smellslikemultifandomimagines · 4 years

Text

sex dreams (smut) || jason todd (titans)

Summary: you woke up from a sex dream about jason. unable to fall back asleep, you go to him for help.

warning / additional tags: fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), teasing, penetrative sex, rough sex, light choking, kind of a sir kink??, asking permission to cum.

word count: 2,537

(gif credit)

I wake up suddenly; panting with hair sticking to my forehead and neck from sweat. A dull and needy ache can be felt between my legs and my underwear is soaked. Sitting up, I reach for my drink bottle and take a massive gulp, still processing the events of my dream. It was of Jason. Arrogant, impulsive Jason Todd.

My hands fist around the sheets in front of me as he held my hips up. Jason’s slamming into me from behind, grunting with each rough thrust. His hand snuck around my hips and his fingers circled my clit in such a way that made my pussy clench tightly around his cock. god, he felt so good.

“Jason, fuck! Yes!” I whimper, feeling him thrust harder.

I change out of my pj's, which had become wet from the sweat that is still dripping off my body, into an oversized shirt. I change into fresh underwear and scroll through the apps on my phone, hoping it’ll coax me back to sleep.

It didn’t.

Locking my phone, I place it back on the bedside table and close my eyes, using the ‘counting sheep’ trick. nope. didn’t work either. My mind wanders back to Jason and the dream. The way his hands gripped harshly at my hips. The way he drove his cock so deep and good into my pussy. God. My pussy throbs at a needy pace; desperate for someone - him - to touch it. I need to see him.

Hesitantly, I crawl out of bed. Legs trembling as I reached my bedroom door. why is he making me nervous? I’ve never felt like this about Jason before. Shaking my head as I rid the ridiculousness off me, I tiptoe down to his room. I knock on the door and a soft ‘come in’ could be heard. Jason’s lamp that is on his bedside table is the only thing illuminating the room. His back is resting against the headboard, with one ankle crossed over the other. the record player is spinning a Hozier record. Never would’ve pegged him as the Hozier type - but here we are.

“can’t sleep either?” he chuckles, closing the comic book he was reading. I nod in response, hoping to god he can’t sense my nervousness - or desperation.

“Come sit,” he nods to his bed. I squint my eyes at him cautiously.

“what?” he chuckles again, crossing his arms over his chest in slight amusement.

“I'm surprised you haven’t made a snarky comment about me visiting you late at night,” I said.

Jason laughs a breathy laugh, an eyebrow cocking up at me in further entertainment. He always found entertainment in teasing me. “no, I was waiting until you at least sat on the bed first.”

I roll my eyes and sat cross-legged on his bed a few inches from him. Jason shuffles in his spot, uncrossing his arms and placing them on his lap. He keeps eye contact with me, watching as my fingers twiddle with the hem of my shirt.

“So why’re you visiting me? you never just ‘visit me’, let alone late at night.”

“I-” I pause, trying to come up with a plausible answer. Obviously, I wasn’t going to tell him a had a fucking sex dream about him. “You make me bored enough to fall asleep.” I tease.

“Damn ouch,” Jason places a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended. We both laugh. This is probably one of the most sentimental moments I think I’ve ever had with Jason ever since I joined the titans.

“Can I tell you something?” Jason says after a moment of silence between us. I nod cautiously, unsure of what he’s gonna say. That’s the thing with Jason; you don’t know what he’s gonna say. “I don’t actually hate you, you know that right?”

“I don’t hate you either; you’re just fun to tease,” I giggle. Jason’s lips twitch into a sheepish smile as he rolls his head to the side. A cute chuckle slips from his lips again.

“Same could be said about you,” the glimmer in his eyes makes my heart beat faster, and suddenly, I’m nervous again. He leans over to place his comic book on his bedside table before he shuffles closer to me. Our knees are touching and the air just got hotter.

“Can I?” he whispers, eyes flickering down to my lips. Without wasting another moment, my hand comes up to cup his cheek and pull him forward to close the gap between us. He’s shocked at first, but after a few seconds, his lips moves in sync with mine.

“Wait,” Jason mumbles, pulling away. “this isn’t a one-time thing, right?”

“Maybe, maybe not. let’s just see where this goes first,” I respond, leaning in to kiss his soft lips again. He kisses me hungrily, pulling me into his lap.

“Wait, wait I’m confused,” Jason pants, pulling his lips away from mine again. His eyebrows knit together, but his hands snake up my thighs and grip at my hips. “you’ve never shown even an ounce of interest towards me, why now?”

“I guess sex dreams really change your perception of someone,” I shrug, feeling my toes and spine tingle as he slides his hands up my shirt slightly.

“oh, so this is what this is?” Jason’s all-too-familiar cocky and arrogant ego is back. “you, miss [y/n]: the ‘i hate Jason because he’s such an asshole and I’m so much better than him’ [y/n] had a sex dream about me? and now you want me to fuck you like I fucked you in that dream of yours?”

“well are you going to or not?” I challenge, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck.

“Not until you admit that you wanted me all along.” Jason's hands work to take my shirt off, an audible gasp leaves his lips as he notices I’m not wearing a bra. His dark eyes stare longingly into mine, waiting for me to say the words.

“fine, I wanted you all along, happy?” I roll my eyes, feeling the ache in between my legs growing needier. Jason grips my waist and flips me over, his hands sliding up to pin my hands over my head.

“say it like you mean it or I’m leaving,” his hot breath fans across my face. Leaning up, I manage to capture his lips with mine.

“fuck, I’ve always wanted you, Jason Todd,” I mumble against his lips. Jason lets go of my wrists, letting one hand drop to my hips and the other to the side of my head to hold himself up. His lips detach from mine once again but kiss a path down to my neck. A whine slips from my lips as I buck my hips against his sweatpants-covered crotch. He chuckles against my skin before sucking gently on the mellowness of my neck. Reaching my hand down to grab his hand, I place it on my breast. His groans out a ‘fuck’ and squeezes my breast gently, his breathing becoming heavier as he hears the gasp escape from my lips. My head rolls back further into the pillows and my hips grind up against him once again. J trails kisses down from my neck to the other breast, taking my nipple into his mouth before sucking on it in the most pleasurable way.

“shit,” I moan out, tangling my hands in his hair. Jason’s hand travels down my body, his fingertips grazing over my skin so delicately, it makes me want to melt. They rest on my underwear, twisting the fabric between his fingers as he laps his tongue over my nipple.

“please, J,” I whimper, rolling my hips against his crotch again. Getting the message, he pulls my underwear down my legs at such an insufferable slow rate, I was so tempted to just take them off myself. “fuck, baby,” Jason whispers as he sits back on his knees in between my legs. “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“what, get in my pants?” I tease, propping myself up on my elbows.

“no, stupid,” J laughs, arms planting on either side of my body so he could lean on them as he kisses me. This kiss is different. More passionate. More delicate. “I meant what I said before. I’ve always liked you.”

“Then why be mean if-”

“because this stuff scares me,” he cuts me off. I capture his lips with mine again.

“It scares me too,” I whisper against him. He kisses me again, and I take this as an opportunity to lift his shirt up. J rests on his knees as he takes his shirt off, his eyes trailing down to my exposed pussy.

“can I?” he asks. I nod and watch closely as he shuffles down the bed before laying in between my legs. His warm hands push my thighs apart and he flicks a finger up my folds, watching as I bite my lip and close my eyes. Jason presses his tongue against my clit, swirling it around and gaining more confidence as he hears my soft moans. He begins sucking at my clit, alternating between sucking and swirling his tongue around; completely indulging himself in the taste of me.

“Jace,” I moan, rolling my hips against his face as my hands tangle in his hair. He lets out a grunt as I pull at the strands, the vibrations running over my clit making me moan loudly. Clasping a hand over my mouth, I muffle my moans in case anyone could hear. Jason chuckles at me, pulling away to kiss my inner thighs before toying with my entrance.

“Jace, please,” I beg, my other hand moving from his hair to the sheets. I gasp as his finger slides in with ease. He thrusts it slowly at first, but as he adds another finger, the pace grew faster and harder. His tongue goes back to work on my clit; circling and sucking at my clit, which only made me whimper and moan into my hand in pleasure.

“shit, Jason, I-”

“gonna cum for me?” he groans, fingers curling at the spot that made me clench around him.

“mhm,” I moan, biting my bottom lip to muffle my moans even more. Jason groans against my clit, the vibrations sending me into complete overdrive. My vision goes white as I cum on his fingers, an audible moan can be heard from him too as he feels my walls pulse around his fingers.

“Oh my god,” I whimper as I come down from my high. Jason carefully took his fingers out and began sucking on them, moaning at the sweetness of my taste. It doesn’t take long for us to discard his sweatpants and boxers, our lips crashing together in messy kisses. I flip him over and straddle his hips, leaning down to kiss his neck.

“baby,” he breathes, hands gripping tightly on my hips. I hum against his neck as I suck on the skin, a mark I’m sure will be visible tomorrow. His hard cock can be felt again my thigh, a whine passes his lips as I graze my pussy over it.

“don’t tease me,” Jason groans. I ignore him and teasingly grind my wet pussy against him, feeling his cock twitch underneath me. Fed up with my teasing, J flips me over and reaches over to his bedside table. He opens the drawer and pulls out a condom.

“damn, aren’t you prepared,” I chuckle in amusement.

“Yeah, well you never know,” J winks. Lining himself up at my entrance, he pushes in slowly. I gasp and claw at his back. Jason groans against the crook of my neck before kissing the delicate skin. His thrusts are slow, and he’s careful not to hurt me.

“Jason,” I whine, rolling my head back against the pillows. He thrusts faster and become needier with each roll of his hips. A hand snakes down and grips at my hips as he rocks into me. He moans quietly, pressing his forehead to mine as he looks down. J watches as his cock disappears deep into my pussy and it makes him moan even louder.

“Shh, pretty boy. Don’t want the others to hear, don’t we?” I moan quietly, raking my nails down his back as he thrusts harder. He sits upon his knees and fucks me faster. Jason’s hand tightens on my hips while the other comes down to wrap around my neck.

“Oh my god,” I whimper as quietly as I could. The bed squeaks with each rock of his hips, and neither of us cared anymore.

“you like that? you like being choked?” Jason grunts, hips slowing into hard, but agonisingly slow, thrusts.

“fuck yes,” I moan. “faster, please, J.”

Jason complies and starts fucking into me again; so hard that the headboard started to bang against the wall. My hand snakes down from my hold on my breasts to my clit and just as I start to rub circles, the hand that was previously on my hips swipes my hand away.

“This pussy is mine, do you understand me?”

“yes sir,” I whimper out.

“Sir? fuck that’s hot,” Jason moans. His hand rubs rapid circles around my clit, making my back arch and fists ball into the sheets. His cock is hitting all the right places in my pussy, and he just makes me want to scream his name in pleasure.

“[y/n], oh my god,” he moans out, moving both hands to my hips. The new angle causes me to clasp a hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming. Jason could sense this, so he removes my hand crashes his lips onto mine. His thrusts slow as we kiss, and a whine leaves my lips as he pulls away.

“look at you, so needy for me,” Jason grunts as he feels himself twitch inside me. His fingers begin to circle my clit again, and the knot that has been building in my stomach feels like it could snap at any moment.

“fuck, Jace, can I come? please can I come?” I plead. Jason hovers over me again and presses light kisses on my neck.

“cum for me, baby girl,” he moans into the crook of my neck. he fucks into me faster and harder; the wall taking it harder from the bed frame again.

“I- fuck!” I whimper as I cum around his cock.

“oh my god, [y/n],” Jason groans, his fingernails digging harshly into the skin of my hips as he sloppily thrusts into me while he chases his own high.

“come on, pretty boy. You gonna cum for me?” I moan, scratching my nails down his back. J lets out a loud groan into the crook of my neck as he rocks his hips into me.

“fuck, oh- fuck,” he moans as he cums, his breathing becomes uneven as he releases into me. He pulls out and disposes of the condom before collapsing next to me.

“fuck me that was so much better than the dream,” I chuckle as he pulls the sheets up over our naked and exhausted bodies.

“damn hope so,” he laughs in response.

━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━

Jason todd sleepover!

#jason todd #jason todd titans #titans #titans imagine #titans smut #jason todd sleepover #fuck this even got me wet just writing this damn #also sorry if this sucks a bit im literally so sleep deprived lmao #also i dont proof read so if theres any mistakes just ignore them aha #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine

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aceofshitposts · 3 years

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Of Explosions and Ice Cream

and i'm back with DAY 3 of jaytim week presenting: rooftop rendezvous! or at least everything happens on a rooftop. this could technically hit yesterday's prompt too of 'request' but. yknow whatever.

anyway, now introducing my take on a stray!tim au. i actually have more of this universe up my sleeve if y'all are interested in it :) let me know~

Stray casually picks at a loose thread along the edge of the gash in his thigh, his fidgeting the only thing betraying the calm facade he was presenting in the face of the explosion he’d barely gotten away from. Jason had already cleaned and stitched the wound to the best of his ability with the supplies Stray had unceremoniously dropped on the roof and now worked on a series of cuts along Strays right arm.

Jason had heard about the explosion, although him and Batman had been too late to intercept. A warehouse on the docks going up in spectacular flames, burning bright orange against the ink black sky. Not an unusual occurrence, this was Gotham after all, but the fact that Stray and presumably Catwoman had gotten caught up in it was something that warranted further investigation.

“You gonna tell me why you ain’t letting Catwoman patch you up?”

Stray stops fidgeting briefly to tilt his head at Jason. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet, aside from the soft, “help me?” he’d offered Jason when he’d first shown up on the roof. The light glints off his green tinted goggles, Jason always thought they’d been a little ridiculous with how big and thick they were but the piece of errant metal embedded in the left lens made him reconsider.

“Selina doesn’t know I was there,” he finally says, quiet in the night.

Jason has to stop his stitching as his mind stutters to a stop. Stray never does anything without Catwoman. While she didn’t always bring Stray on her little outings, Stray was never far from his mentor if he was out.

“You gonna tell her?” Stray asks. His head is still tilted, Jason can barely make out his unwavering gaze in the non fractured lens.

“Fuck, I might,” Jason says through his teeth. “What the hell were you doing in an explosion?”

Stray sighs, rolling the one shoulder free from Jason’s grip and turning to look out over the Bowery skyline. “I might have miscalculated,” he offers after a moment.

“Miscalculated? Jesus, Stray,” Jason starts, his voice hitting a pitch that it hasn’t since Jason hit puberty. Underneath his hand Stray tenses, a full body flinch like he thinks Jason's going to hit him.

Jason forces himself to relax, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly through his teeth.

"You can't do shit like that, not by yourself."

“Don’t treat me like a kid,” Stray hisses loudly, wrenching his arm free of Jason’s grip even though he’s only halfway done cleaning the wounds.

“Don’t- You are a kid!”

“I’m very mature for my age, I’m told,” Stray says primly while he begins to gather the various medical supplies up. His movements are stiff and no matter how well Stray might be hiding it Jason can see the tension in his muscles from the injuries.

Jason sits back, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“You know that’s not a good thing, right?”

Stray stops moving, shoulders drawn up tight.

“Adults just say shit like that so you don't realize they're neglecting you.” Jason’s seen it before. Kids who can’t rely on the adults around them have to learn to take care of themselves, growing up far too soon. Jason never pegged Stray for a Bowery kid, his accent was far too proper for the rough and tumble life down there. Still, he’d also never really thought there might be trouble in Stray’s homelife.

Then again, nobody became a mask because their life is going well.

There's a moment where Stray stands perfectly still, his mouth thin and small as he stares at Jason. Then Stray’s shoulders fall, his whole frame shakes slightly as he lets out a shuddering breath then he plops himself back down next to Jason, offering back his arm.

"Just 'cuz I'm worried about you, doesn't mean I don't think you're capable." Jason's taking a shot in the dark, he knows, and it's more likely to make Stray clam up again than talk to him. It feels important, though, that Stray knows Jason cares. And isn't that a strange thought in and of itself, despite Stray's own flirty banter and Jason's often stiff replies, he hates to see Stray hurt. He hates the hurt that must go mostly unnoticed by the people in Stray's life.

"I'm alive," Stray snorts, sounding unbothered despite the way he turns his head away from Jason. "And I came to you, it's fine."

It's really, really, not fine, Jason thinks.

"At least have some backup when you do stupid shit, okay?"

Stray rolls his head in what is probably an exaggerated eye roll and says, "yeah, okay, mom."

Jason hits him lightly in the shoulder. "Someone has to be."

Stray snorts, this time sounding more like an aborted laugh. Good, he's relaxed even if he's still avoiding Jason's eyes. They lapse into a comfortable silence as Jason finishes dressing the wounds. He should probably introduce Stray to Doctor Thompkins but it's good enough for the time being.

"Thank you." It's a quiet admission, words almost swallowed by the sounds of traffic below them. Stray is picking at the loose thread on his thigh again, staring intently at the tip of his boot. It's not a thanks for patching him up, Jason knows.

"Hey, what're friends for?" Jason asks, standing up and stretching. "Actually I know exactly what friends are for; getting 'you lived' celebration ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Stray parrots, looking up at Jason with his head tilted.

"Yes. Ice cream. You stay here, I'll be right back."

Jason gets an entire tub of neapolitan ice cream from a nearby corner store. It's not going to be as good as one of the artisan ice cream shops over in the diamond district but it's cold and sweet which is all that matters right now. Stray is exactly where Jason left him, hugging one knee up to his chest.

The moment Jason drops the tub down beside him he looks up and smiles. Jason has to swallow around the feeling of his heartbeat in his throat and offers out a plastic spoon. Stray eats exclusively from the chocolate and vanilla portions, leaving the strawberry all to Jason, and finally starts seeming a little more like his usual self. They talk about stupid things, like tv shows and arguing over the shapes of the clouds that fill the night sky.

It's easy up here to forget he doesn't really know Stray, and Stray doesn't know him. When Stray's laughing at one of Jason's dumb jokes it's like that's all there is in the world. Just the two of them sitting pressed together at the sides, tub of ice cream forgotten and melting between them, on a rooftop far above the hustle of the city. He doesn't know Stray outside the masks and secrets and fiery orange explosions and carefully tended to wounds and tubs of melting ice cream but he knows enough.

“I’ll tell you someday,” Stray promises softly after the ice cream has turned into a slurry in its container and the first signs of sunrise are starting to peak over the horizon. There's a fierce look of determination on his face but beyond that there's-

Trust.

Jason nods. Stray can't tell him now, even if Jason would like to prod. But he's not Batman, knowing what exactly Stray thought he was doing down by the docks tonight is less important than knowing Stray trusts him.

“Okay, Copycat. Next time."

#jaytim #jaytimweek2021 #jaytimweek #jason todd #tim drake #astrix writes #next time au #yes it's called the next time universe they're always saying next time ok #almost kiss but get interrupted??? next time.#wanna tell the other your secret identity?? next time #(and then next time never comes)#i was gonna wait until morning to schedule this but fuck it im impatient #and i wanna wake up to notes lmao

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

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Finding Us chapter 23

At last I have managed to sort out this latest chapter, and I am now presenting it to you fine readers! I hope you guys enjoy it! This one's featuring Jason and a round table "Ah ha!" kind of moment.

AO3 Link

“Are you planning to stay there all day?” Bruce asked, as Jason dropped a sky blue pencil and replaced it with a green one.

Jason looked up from his place on the training mats and grinned at his dad, “Yep.” he answered, popping the ‘P’, “I did ask you if you wanted to join, and you said you were busy.”

Currently, he was laying across the training mats on his stomach. His new coloring book thanks to Cass and Tim was splayed out in front of him. He’d filled in random parts of a page as he picked and chose colors in a dance of chaos he was sure would have Damian’s hair on end if the kid had been watching him.

He was doing his best not to get kicked out. But from Bruce’s tone, and almost constant swivel between Jason and the computer’s loading screen Jason figured his luck was running thin. So far though, Jason had been immune to Bruce’s ability to shoo every other one of his children out of the cave.

They had a truce and a tiny part of Jason’s mind was interested in seeing how far he could push his dad’s patience. Another part of him --the part that had brought him downstairs in the first place-- just wanted to make sure Bruce wasn’t pushing himself too hard. There was really no reason for B to have planted himself in front of the computer other than because he was punishing himself. For missing the signs Tim was being stalked, for just not keeping a close enough eye on his sons, or for a hundred other things Jason could think of.

“You are still welcome to color in a picture of a teddy bear, or a swear word that has all the important letters turned into symbols, which really? Is a waste of a perfectly good swear word.”

Bruce snorted. Jason counted that as a win.

Jason shifted a bit, and pushed himself a little higher on his elbows watching Bruce, “You know, sitting there won’t change the wait time the computer gave you.”

“I’m working.”

“On what?”

Bruce grunted and shrugged his shoulders at the computer. The message was clear: Stuff. Things. Batman related work.

Jason rolled his eyes and threw his green colored pencil at his dad. It clattered to the ground about halfway between them. He hadn’t expected it to land, and really didn’t know why he’d thrown it in the first place.

“Jason.” Bruce’s tone was long-suffering. A father pushed almost to his limit.

“ Dad .” Jason said, pushing a little further.

This, at last, got Bruce to look over at him. Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the way Bruce looked at him when he called him Dad now. When he’d been a kid Bruce would look warm, happy, kind of like Jason felt whenever Damian or Tim decided to lean on him.

Now, he looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights. Like he still couldn’t believe he’d heard that word from Jason. Like he’d just found his son again. And honestly? Jason didn’t blame him for the surprise. He hadn’t been sure they’d ever get here either. But after their talk in the study Jason was trying it out more and more. And it felt good. Right. Like home.

The surprise faded after a moment as Bruce’s face softened, letting in that breath of warmth he’d used to have.

“Join me, and let the computer do its job. No one will blame you for moving a few feet away for half an hour. No one blames you for missing what Timbo was so obviously trying to hide.”

“I am not going to lay on the floor.”

Jason grinned, “I’d be happy to move to a table.”

He shifted the coloring supplies to one of the work tables, his elbows and knees grateful for the reprieve from laying on the floor. Jason shoved the fallen green pencil in Bruce’s hand and left his dad to start working on a page of his choice while he made some tea on the cave’s little stove. No need to call Alfred down for something they had all the supplies for down here.

Bruce’s shoulders had just started to relax when the computer beeped indicating it was done running whatever program Bruce had set it to work on. The next instant, B was up from the table, pencil clattering onto the forgotten book and striding over to the computer.

Jason was a few steps behind him, his stomach churning. On the screen, Bruce had pulled up an image of a man who looked remarkably like Damian’s sketch. The kid was really good. As Jason took in the man’s face, his fists curled. The stalker or not, this guy was at the very least in cahoots with the person bothering Tim, and for that Jason wanted to take him down a peg or two.

“Get the others.” Bruce said, “I’m pulling up known associates now.”

Bruce didn’t have to tell Jason twice. He spun on his heel and made his way back up to the manor. He caught Dick hovering by the entrance and sent him down straight away. Then found Cass and Steph with Alfred playing cards. It took him longer to find Tim and Damian. He’d assumed both would be brooding in their rooms and came up short when he didn’t find either of them there.

Tim’s laptop was gone from his room, and so Jason assumed the kid would have probably moved to work on it somewhere else in the house. He went for the library first and cheered internally at his good luck. Both boys were together.

“Hey Short Stacks, we figured out who Dames met earlier. B wants everyone downstairs.”

Both boys looked at each other and then back at Jason, nodding.

“Excellent. It seems everything is beginning to coalesce.” Damian said, standing.

Tim looked at his laptop for a long moment, as if trying to decide if he wanted to take it or leave it. He settled on leaving it, and soon followed Damian around the desk.

“Did he say who it was?” he asked.

Jason herded them out the door, “I didn’t memorize the guy’s name. Besides, B had already moved on to looking up his partners. Hopefully you’ll spot someone you know.”

He paused and added, “Not that I’m hoping it’s a friend of yours or anything--you know what I mean.”

His brother waved off his concern, “I get it. We’ll find him a lot faster if I can give one of the associates an I.D.”

When the three of them made it down to the cave, they walked into a room full of chatter. Someone had dragged a few chairs over to rest by the computer. Alfred was planted in one, with Steph in another. Cass was perched on the desk by the computer, and Dick was leaned against Bruce’s chair. The big man himself hadn’t seemed to have moved from where Jason had left him.

Tim crowded up next to Dick, with Jason following close behind. He noted that Damian was hanging back just a bit. Probably because he’d already seen the guy in the flesh.

“Alright, we’re all here. Spill the beans, B-man.” Jason said.

Bruce grunted, but then after a moment he began to speak, “The man Damian met is named Mark Sherman. He’s got a criminal record, mostly for low level stuff, no stalking or kidnapping on his sheet though.”

After a few clicks the man's image was back up on the computer for everyone to see. Below his name, Jason could read his basic criminal history, and some general information about him like his age and height. He didn't seem like the worst that could come out of Gotham. Definitely someone who would hand over a creepy letter for enough money though.

“That is the man I saw.” Damian confirmed, with a sharp nod.

Bruce clicked something else on the computer. “Here’s the list of his known associates. I’ve narrowed it down to the most likely suspects. Tim, or any of you, let me know if they seem familiar.”

Jason watched carefully as six men and women’s images showed up on the screen. After less than a minute Dick, Tim, and Stephanie all three pointed at one of the men on the screen.

“Harry Ferst.” Dick said.

“But wait, he currently works for Wayne Enterprises.” Stephanie said, finger shifting down to aim at the information listed under his name, “What’s he got against Tim?”

All eyes turned to their second youngest.

“It might not be him?” Tim shrugged, “He could be another guy working with--” he sighed, “It’s probably him, but I can’t remember why he’d be so mad at me he’d stalk and threaten me.”

“Think harder, then.” Damian snapped, “You must have done something to incur his wrath.”

“Like I did something to incur yours when you arrived?” Tim shot back.

Jason expected Damian to return another volley, instead his mouth shut and he crossed his arms. He turned to glare at the computer screen.

“What does the man’s reason even matter? He is worth checking out at the very least. If he is not Drake’s stalker then he may be another lead.”

Tim snapped his fingers, “That’s it! He was up for promotion, back when Bruce was lost in the timestream. Except I was taking over certain things back then and more than one application was denied in all the restructuring. If he feels like his work doesn’t matter, and sees it as my fault--”

“That could be the source of his anger.” Jason nodded, “Especially if he was banking on that promotion or if he’s been passed up even more times after that.”

It made sense, Bruce had been the source of the same type of anger often enough, Lucius Fox too, and really anyone with any high ranking at the company. Tim mixing things up while Bruce had been gone was totally enough to put a target on him, one that would flare up into blame if something else incited Harry’s anger.

Bruce nodded, “I agree.”

Jason blinked, having almost forgotten the man was there. Bruce had let them sort it out together, which was nice. And looking at him now, Jason knew the man had already figured out the same things they had, but he was proud all the same. That stupid quirk of his mouth proved just that.

“So, who gets to go after him?” Jason asked.

“I--” Tim spoke up only to be interrupted by Bruce.

“You are staying home.”

Tim glowered at him and crossed his arms, “I’d like to go after the guy who’s been stalking me.”

“And we’d like you to stay safe.” Dick pointed out.

“I’ll be Red Robin!” Tim argued, “He’s not going to see me and go ‘Oh look Tim Drake my arch nemesis who’s also apparently a super hero!”

Jason snorted and crossed his arms, “I think we all want a piece of the guy who's been stalking one of our own. Unfortunately, he’s not exactly the type that really needs the whole family to take him down. I think our energies are best spread out.”

“Jason’s right.” Bruce said.

“Oh?” Jason perked up, “Are the cameras recording this because a miracle has occurred!”

Bruce ignored him and continued, “Dick and I are going to take care of Ferst. Jason you’ll be back up in case we need you, but until then I want you back on reconnecting with your Alkali contacts. Girls, I’d like you patrolling close in the area. Damian--”

“I will stay behind.” Damian said.

Jason dropped his arms, “What?”

There had to be some trick to it. Damian didn’t just stay behind. Ever.

The kid rolled his eyes, “You wish someone to keep an eye on Drake correct? He will stay because he does not wish to face Father’s wrath if I am caught sneaking out and I will stay because I do not wish the same if he is.”

The room was staring at Damian now.

“What?” he glared, “I am not an idiot. I know the way this family works, and I know my own tendencies. It was the obvious decision.”

Jason laughed, “Kid’s got a point.”

“Fine.” Tim declared, “You all win. Damian and I will stay here and be useless .”

“You’re not going to be useless,” Bruce said, sounding tired, “Barbara told me you’d been working on decrypting Alkali files. I want you to keep working on that.”

“You have been spearheading that part of the project.” Dick pointed out, “It’d be a shame if someone else figured it out before you did.”

Tim and Damian looked at each other. It was a brief glance, one that neither seemed to realize they’d even done. Jason frowned, cataloging it with their weird reluctance from earlier. Something felt off about it, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

Then Tim was shrugging, “You all will let me know the moment you’ve got the guy right?”

“Of course.” Dick nodded.

“Right then.” Tim said, “Let’s all get to it.”

#finding us #jason todd #chapter 23 #precious posts #this chapter feels a little short #but it's a good bridge chapter #and hey at least it's not two pages like the chapters in a book I read reccently #fanfiction

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idmakeitbehave · 4 years

Text

This I Know {Spencer x Reader}

Chapter Four

masterlist

series table of contents

summary: a little backstory, a little panic- all in a day’s work

word count: 1.6k

July 2004

“Remind me why the hell we decided to do this in the middle of the summer? I swear it has got to be the hottest day of the year,” you grunted, sweat dripping down your back as you weaved through the hurdles.

“Crime waits for no one,” Mia huffed as she ran alongside you. “Besides, we need to beat Gomez and his squad. Show those boys who’s boss.”

“I already beat him in hand to hand, what more could he want?”

“I think he needs a little more ass-kicking, take him down a peg,” she said.

A whistle sounded across the yard. “Ladies! Less chit-chat, more laps.”

You exchanged a look with Mia before dashing off to the track, her not far behind you.

You were halfway through your tactical training at the Academy, and while it was the most difficult thing you had ever done, you had never been more motivated. After finishing your second degree, this one in Behavioral Psychology, you had been trying to plan your next move when you had seen them. There was a killer on the loose a town away from you, one with a penchant for young college students and ritualistic staging. You had been following the murders via the news, simultaneously worried for your own safety and fascinated by the case. A press conference caught your eye where you learned that the BAU was in town- the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had heard of them of course, who in your field hadn’t? But it wasn’t until you attended a seminar a few months later by the man you had seen on the news, Jason Gideon, that you knew. This was what you were meant to do. You made it your life’s mission to get on that unit, whatever it took.

Mia was one of the first classmates you met at the Academy, and the two of you had become friends almost instantly. You were paired up for one of the first drills, and you had both reveled in the fact of being the only all-female team to make it through. Your shared drive- that and your love for baking, musicals, and all things ghost related- had bonded you from that moment on. You couldn’t imagine life without her.

You made it back to the dorm with Mia after a grueling day of defensive drills and scenarios, both drained. Flopping onto the floor beside you, she let out an exhale. “What. the. hell.”

You smirked at the way she had her arm dramatically across her forehead, her legs sticking up on the side of her bed. The feeling was completely mutual.

She propped herself up on her elbow, wiping her hair out of her face. “Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Obviously, Mee.”

“You don’t look exhausted. You look… psychotic,” she said.

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “If you’re trying to profile me, I think you might be way off.”

“Hey now,” Mia snickered, kicking you lightly in the shin. “You’re the one who wants to be a profiler. I just want to be on the good old goon squad, busting down doors and shit. I don’t need to know anything about that psychosis crap. But either way you look psychotic.”

You looked down at your sweaty outfit, covered with grass, mud, and other various stains from the day. There was a tear in your pants from when you had tackled the mock-unsub and single-handedly taken him down during a drill, much to Gomez’s dismay. You could feel your hair matted with mud from the takedown, and you saw yourself through Mia’s eyes. The bright smile on your face definitely didn’t match just how beat up and worn out you looked, but you couldn’t seem to keep it off your face.

“I’m just happy, Mee. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“You’re gonna do great things, buttercup.” Mia lifted a fist out to you, dramatically sighing with the effort.

You bumped it with yours, that same grin still on your face. “We both are.”

—————

Present Day

You pressed yourself into the corner of your room, arms wrapped tightly around your legs. You could feel a panic attack coming on- your breath was coming out ragged and your vision was blurring. The events of the past few days had finally caught up to you. The compartmentalization that you so often used when things went wrong was failing you. This was just too much, more wild than you had ever had to deal with before.

What was real? Did you even know anymore? More to the point- would you ever know? The possibility that you might never remember threatened to suffocate you.

Spencer came back into the room, taking one look at you and dropping to the floor beside you. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

You started to shake, your chest heaving as you sobbed. “I can’t breathe, Spence. I-I can’t breathe. It hurts.” Hot tears ran down your face and you felt a warm hand on your cheek.

Spencer whispered your name at first before repeating it more forcefully, turning your face towards him. “Look at me.”

You were looking right at Spencer, but it was hard to make out his features, your vision still swimming. “It hurts,” you whispered, still gasping for air.

“You’re having a panic attack,” Spencer murmured. “You’re safe, you’re here in our apartment. You’re with me.” He meant well, of course he did, and you were sure that he had used the same words to ground you before, but given the current circumstances, it did little to help you.

“I-I don’t know you,” you cried, the thought just serving to panic you more. “I don’t know anything.”

A look of anguish flashed through his eyes, but he concealed it quickly- too quickly for it to be anything but forced, practiced even. “Can you breathe with me? Take a deep breath.” He counted to five, breathing in deeply and motioning for you to do the same.

You took a shaky breath, your hand gripping the one that Spencer held on your face. You were squeezing it so hard that you were sure he must be in pain, but he made no move to remove his hand from your grasp. He repeated the breaths in and out, and you mirrored him as you tried to control your breathing.

Spencer wiped the tears from your face as you hiccuped, choking back a sob. “What do you need?”

“I need space,” you gasped, “I need Mee.”

Spencer nodded, handing you your phone from the bedside table. “Take another breath, angel. Call her. I’ll be right outside.”

You grabbed your phone from him and nodded your thanks, your breaths slowly becoming steady. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading towards the bedroom door. You smiled weakly as he closed the door before dialing a number you had known by heart for the last six years.

“Oh buttercup, I’m so glad to hear from you.” The familiar voice on the other end was so immediately comforting, you heaved a sigh of relief, your arms finally relaxing around your legs.

“Mee,” you cried. “Mee, thank god.”

“Spencer told me what happened, I was so worried about you. I’m sorry I haven’t called, I wanted to give you your space until you were ready. How are you doing?”

“You know Spencer?”

You hadn’t even considered the possibility, these two worlds colliding. They felt like entirely different universes. This somehow made it seem more real. If Mia knew Spencer, it was real. You desperately wanted it to be real. You needed it to be.

Mia let out a sad laugh. “Of course. You haven’t stopped talking about that boy since the day you met him. I had to meet him to give my approval, obviously.”

“Oh Mee, it’s so good to hear your voice. I can’t believe this is happening. What the hell is happening?!” You paused, considering the distance of the past two years. “We’re still friends, right? We still talk? I will never forgive myself if we’re not still friends.”

She scoffed. “Hey now, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. I’m still in the LA field office though, so we don’t see each other very often. But we talk on the phone at least every week. And we visit when we can- I met Spencer one of my first trips out there, right after you started dating.”

“God. I wish- I wish I remembered anything.”

What had it been like- two of your favorite people meeting? You liked to imagine that it was wonderful, that Mia and Spencer had gotten along straight away. What if you never knew?

“I know, it’s gotta be a lot. I can’t even begin to imagine. But hey- Spencer said you were being your usual badass self when it happened. Not that that surprises me in the least.”

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but we all know you’re a badass. Always have been.”

It only took a few minutes of talking with Mia for you to be able to calm down completely. The two of you talked for the better part of an hour, laughing over tales of the Academy and your time together. Mia told you a little bit about what had been happening the last two years, but you were grateful that she kept bringing it back to a time you remembered- a time you knew. The comfort of talking to someone you knew, someone you actually, truly knew, was like no other. You could have cried from the sheer relief of it.

There was a pause before you spoke again. “Mee? Am I happy? Here, with Spencer? In this life?”

The laugh on the other end was joyous. “Of course, buttercup. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happier- even that time you kicked Gomez’s ass.”

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”-Jane Austen

previous chapter / next chapter

Taglist: @rexorangecouny @illuxions-x @cal-ifornication :)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #sarasstuff #thisiknow

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angelz-dust · 4 years

Text

masters of none - part 3 (jason todd x reader)

summary: i wanted to give you guys a more jason focused chapter. i plan on doing more of these where the reader isn’t as heavily included or not even included at all. hopefully the jason chapter i do will be better because i feel like the quality of my writing dipped a little on this one fhjghdk the next part will be back in reader’s head i promise. anyway i hope you guys still enjoy. this chapter is a little more dangerous, so prepare yourself.

word count: 6k

warnings: illegal activities (street racing, running from the cops, gunfire). food and drink (non alcoholic). smoking.

part 1 /// part 2 /// part 4

rascal (superstar)

money, cash, clothes, fast cars

...

jason felt the cool nighttime air beating back against him, the rumble of his engine being the only thing he could hear as he rode his motorcycle down the quiet road in robbinsville. he felt naked being out and about at night in his civilian clothing but it was necessary for the task at hand.

"exactly what does bruce want me to do?" jason asked barbara through their comm link.

"he wants you to report back with any intel you can get," barbara explained, the sound of her furious typing picking up in his ear. "my father thinks southside may be up to something. after that blow up between them and the penguin's guys, they've both been quiet. bruce just wants to make sure nothing's brewing under our noses."

"this is such a cop mission," jason complained as made a turn. "below my caliber, if i'm being honest."

"well, you'll have the races to keep you entertained," she reminded him. "i'll be on the line if you need me."

the races were the only reason jason had agreed to take on the little spy mission in the first place. sure, street racing was very illegal but it was also very entertaining. barbara was correct on that end. he just hoped it wouldn't be a complete waste of his time and he'd actually get some information out of the whole thing. he had to admit that it was a tolerable change of pace from the monotony that was patrolling crime alley. jason had passed the baton to cass for the night. she was the only person he trusted to do a good job. he refused to let just anyone take over his patrol route. things were different in crime alley. it required a... gentler touch that only he could provide and that he felt cass had an understanding of. one of the things he promised himself he'd do with his undeserved second chance at life was to protect the people who needed it most. it didn't matter how monotonous patrol became, or how tired he felt, or how how hard things got. he'd protect them all until his body didn't let him anymore.

jason could see his destination, the abandoned industrial park, in the distance. there were several cars parked all throughout it with people congregating around them. from what he could see, everything seemed calm. the closer he got, the better he could hear the loud music playing from the cars. he slowly pulled up, getting some looks from the people he passed by on his way to park it. coming here alone may have been a bad idea. he should've dragged dick along with him. it would've made blending in easier. he dismounted his bike, propping it up on the kickstand and pulling his helmet off his head. as he casually fixed his hair, he did a quick scan of the area. there were several groups of people scattered around while the road was being prepared for the race.

he saw a group of rowdy socialites a bit overdressed for a street race. he could use them as cover but the last thing he wanted to do was willingly be around the likes of them. there was one small group tucked away, standing around an electric blue sports car. their eyes were shifty and he could see they were trying to keep their voices down, even when they were far away from everyone else. he'd have to keep an eye on them. jason's eyes fell on the group of people counting money, presumably the betting pot. placing one would be a good way of blending in organically. he had made sure to grab some money from the emergency stash when he left the manor for this very reason. he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, making his way over to the crowded area.

"we're short by a thousand," a woman, the bookkeeper, announced.

"pitch in," a man said, elbowing another guy.

quinton kelly, jason thought to himself, recognizing the rapper that stephanie and duke liked so much.

"i don't have a fucking band on me," quinton laughed in response, pulling out his wallet. "i can put down three."

"i'll match that," another man spoke up, a cigarette in his mouth. if memory served, which jason liked to think it did, that was tyler ronan.

"who else has money burning a hole in their pocket?" the bookkeeper shouted out, making the group laugh.

"come on, superstar. donate to the cause," the man from earlier spoke up, bothering someone else now.

"hell no," an oddly familiar female voice said. jason's eyes searched for the source. "are you insane?"

surprise flashed across his face when he realized who the voice belonged to. it was you. y/n l/n. the girl from the gala. his bard. he felt an odd sensation building in his stomach. he had convinced himself he was never going to see you again yet here you were. your presence made sense. quinton and tyler were members of cloud 9, just like you were. he wasn’t sure if he was happy to see you or if he was glad he could use you as cover. he could just follow you around and no one would question it. this was him banking on the assumption that you'd actually want to speak to him. he was hoping that he made a good impression on you at the gala. your interaction was short, but memorable. at least it was to him. staring at you like a deer in headlights wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he spoke up.

"i can put down four," he said, emerging from the back of the group. he felt all the eyes on him and he could hear the whispers. he ignored them all, his attention fully on the bookkeeper. the surprised look on her face led him to believe that she recognized him, too.

"well, i'm not going to turn down old money," she joked, getting some laughs. "what's your name? there's so many of you wayne kids, i can't keep track."

jason chuckled, nodding in understanding. even he lost track sometimes. "jason."

"okay, mr. jason wayne," she said, taking his name down.

"it's todd," you said, catching him off guard. his eyes met yours, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"oh, excuse me," she laughed, correcting herself. "mr. jason todd."

"i'm racking up the celebrity bets tonight," the man, who jason now deducted was the driver, grinned.

"yeah, so don't embarrass us by losing," the bookkeeper said seriously, counting up the money.

"alright! let's get this shit started!" someone yelled, everyone cheering loudly and moving in towards the finish line.

you, tyler, and quinton were walking over as a group, but jason noticed you were trailing behind. he couldn't help but think in the back of his mind that you had slowed your stride for him. he made his way over to you, being greeted by your sweet smile.

“hi jason,” you said softly, keeping your voice low. “i didn’t think i’d see you here tonight.”

“i could say the same about you,” jason couldn’t help but wonder what it was you were doing a street race. yes, there were other celebrities there but he didn’t peg you as the type to hang out with gang members. but then again, this was gotham. “can’t say i’m disappointed to see you, though.”

your smile grew, your eyes crinkling a little. “well, the feeling is mutual. it’s nice to see you, too.”

what he said was the truth. it wasn't something he said to try and butter you up, although that may have influenced his decision to tell you how he felt. he really did enjoy your company, both as red hood and as jason. he wasn’t particularly looking forward to his mission but now he was glad he accepted.

"hey," you called out, sticking your foot out and kicking quinton in the butt with the tip of your shoe. quinton turned around and gave jason a look. after a moment, he held his hand out to him.

"what's up, man?" he greeted jason, dapping him up, tyler doing the same. "you hanging with us tonight?"

"yes, he is," you answered for him, making jason grin.

he was glad you were eager to keep him around. now he didn't have to try and convince you or insert himself awkwardly. "can you spot me?" jason asked, gesturing towards tyler's cigarette.

"sure thing," tyler nodded, holding the carton out for him. jason plucked one out of the box, quickly lighting it and taking a long drag.

while the three of you talked, jason took the opportunity to try and listen in on the other conversations happening around him. it was like he was playing with a radio, tuning in and out of conversations as he saw fit. none of them were interesting or helpful, though. they were pretty boring and mostly topical, pertaining to the race, the cars, and just other mindless bullshit.

"yeah, we're gonna drop the stuff off at the docks after the race. mix it in with the bite bottles," he heard someone say.

bingo. he didn't know what the stuff was but he assumed it was nothing good, especially if it was being hidden with something as harmless as track bite. he'd have to look into that later. it was safe to assume they were referring to were the docks off of cape carmine, not too far from the current location. jason lightly pressed on his comm link, glancing around before speaking quietly.

"i think something might go down at the docks later tonight," he said, hearing barbara's shuffling.

"cape carmine?"

"i would assume so. they were talking about hiding some shit with track bite bottles."

"knowing them it could be something as simple as drugs or complex as new tech. just keep me posted."

jason was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the low rumble of car engines. the first car was candy apple red 240sx, souped up beyond comprehension. the other was as glossy black gtr, more subtle in presentation. as he admired the cars rolling by, he realized something. he turned his head towards you, clearing his throat.

"which car did i bet on?" he asked you quietly, getting a confused smile from you.

"the red one," you said through a little laugh. "did you seriously bet without knowing?"

"perhaps," jason shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"idiot," you shook your head, making him laugh now.

"well, your friends knew. i trust their judgement."

"as you should," quinton said, catching the tail end of the conversation between you both. "our boy spider knows what he's doing."

you and jason looked out at the road again, watching as it was prepped with track bite and then lit on fire with propane. jason glanced over at you, noticing you were struggling to see behind your very tall friends and the other people in the way. he gently tapped your arm, non verbally offering you a spot in front of him. you accepted with a smile, working your way in front of him.

"don't get any ashes in my hair," you playfully told him. he went to do just that, pretending to tap off the excess from his cigarette on your head, purposefully missing so you could see the ashes fall down in front of you. you gasped, moving back, his firm abdomen pressed against you. with your head against his chest, you looked up at him and glared.

"okay, okay, i'm sorry," jason laughed, sticking the cigarette back in his mouth. "you made it too easy."

"you're such an ass," you rolled your eyes, turning back around and moving out of his personal space bubble. jason's shit eating grin never left his face as he took another drag, making sure to keep the smoke and ashes as far from you as he could. the flagger for the race walked out as the cars pulled up to the starting line. with the street prepped and the cameras set up, the main race was finally going to begin.

"gigante wants us to head out early, so we need to leave after this."

these idiots just loved talking about sensitive information out loud, didn't they? it made jason’s job a whole lot easier so he couldn't complain. it was too bad that he'd have to leave early for the lead, though. he was just starting to get comfortable around you again. it seemed to be a running theme with the two of you.

the cars flashed their high beams, the flagger waiting a moment before giving the signal. as soon as he did, the drivers pressed down on the gas, their tires screeching against the concrete. spider's car popped a wheelie before speeding down the street, the black gtr not far behind. the 240sx was swerving, which would normally be alarming with an inexperienced driver behind the wheel. thankfully, the gtr stayed straight. despite spider’s sloppy swerving, the two cars were still neck and neck. it wasn't long before they zoomed past the crowd, eventually slowing down at the end of the road. it happened so quickly but it looked like spider had just barely passed the finish line before the gtr.

"review the fucking footage!" someone from the other side shouted.

there was a lot of money riding on the race, so naturally tensions were high. jason could hear arguments as two people went to go grab the cameras so they could look over the recordings. aside from the arguing, it was very quiet while everyone waited for the results.

"it's the 240!" they announced, looking at the footage on a tablet. there was a mix of cheers and objections. people were demanding to see the footage themselves but it was clear that the ruling was accurate and final. just as the two bookkeepers made the money exchange, accepting the results of the race.

"see, y/n? your boy was right to trust us," quinton grinned, patting jason's back, who grinned back. “easy money. not that you needed it.”

"i'll go grab our cuts?" tyler questioned, looking between quinton and jason, who agreed. "alright, i'll be back."

jason's eyes were glued on the two men he was eavesdropping on earlier. they were headed over to the same area tyler was going, presumably to get their cut of the money. there was a huge crowd of people, so it would probably take awhile. during jason’s observation, quinton had walked off to talk to someone else, leaving you with him. he probably had a few more minutes before he’d have to go back to being red hood, so he wanted to make the most of it.

“so, you come to these things often?” jason asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. he wasn’t sure if you’d give him the answer he was looking for but it was worth a shot.

“not really. i got dragged here,” you shrugged, getting a nod from him. he was slightly relieved, hoping that meant you weren’t heavily involved with the people there. it would be convenient to get information from you but he didn’t want to spend the little time he had left interrogating you. “what about you?”

“i’ve been to a few,” he admitted, looking back at his two targets. they were still waiting around with tyler. his attention quickly went back to you. “how’s your wife?”

your brows furrowed briefly before your eyes widened. “oh, misha. she’s my ex-wife now, technically.”

“my deepest condolences,” jason joked. “does that make me a home wrecker after all?”

you hummed, looking up at the night sky as you thought it over. “no, i don’t think so. you’re more than welcome to be my back up plan, though.”

a hearty laugh came from jason, making his chest tingle. that was probably the douchiest thing he had ever said to someone. he was lucky you hadn’t slapped him or threw your drink in his face for being so bold that night. jason looked over at the group again, noticing that tyler was in the middle of getting the money, his two targets right behind him. he frowned a little, realizing that he’d have to excuse himself. just as he was about to, he heard some yelling in the distance. you both looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

before jason could even find the source of the commotion, he heard the sound of police sirens and the red and blue lights that naturally accompanied it. the crowd quickly reacted, stampeding away and back towards the parking area. people were yelling and cursing but loud screams replaced it all when gunshots rung out. jason immediately reached out to you, pulling you into his body while he searched for a way out.

"come on!" jason shouted, grabbing your arm and starting to drag you away. he needed to get you both out of there as soon as possible.

"wait!" you gasped, looking around for your friends. jason could tell you were panicking as you tried to find them, but there was no time. not while the gunshots got louder and more frequent. "tyler! quinton!"

"we have to go, y/n! come on!" he firmly grabbed your hand and pulled, you reluctantly running off with him. he looked around for his bike, pushing through people as he worked his way over.

"god, you're parked in fucking guam!" you complained about the distance, trying to keep up with him.

"less talking, more running!"

you both made it to the bike, him put on his helmet and passing you yours. as you both mounted the bike, he felt your arms wrap tightly around his midsection and your cheek press into his back. "hold on tight, alright?" he said before speeding off, slipping expertly through the parked cars and people in his way.

as he rode his bike through the park, there were several cars with the same idea, all evacuating the area by going out the same way. too impatient to wait, he began weaving through the cars. it didn't take long for the huge group to get to the main streets where more cops were waiting for them. many of the cars began making wild turns off road and going in the opposite direction but jason had other plans. he picked up speed, heading straight for the forming blockade.

"you're heading straight for the cops!" you yelled, tightening your grip around him.

"keen observation!"

"maybe you should turn around?"

"nah, i'm good!" jason told you, cockiness lacing his words. he knew what he was doing. "you trust me, right?"

"i don’t even know you!" you said back, peeking over his shoulder before hiding your face in his back as he continued approaching the cars at a violent speed. jason easily slipped through the cop cars, making it through before the road was blocked off.

jason smirked, making a sharp turn down the curving street. he was about to say something smug when he heard the sirens getting closer. he glanced at his mirror, seeing one of the cars trailing him. shit.

"shit."

"jason!"

"i know!"

his grip on the handle bars tightened as he sped up, trying to find a way to lose the cop without putting you in danger. if it was just him, he'd do some more risky maneuvers but he really didn't want you flying off the back of his bike. he'd have to lose them in a safer way.

"pull over your vehicle! this is your only warning!" the officer said through the speaker of the car.

jason really didn't want to take you through crime alley or the bowery, so his best bet was driving towards blüdhaven. it was better than finding a way to turn around in order to stay in gotham and blüdhaven was much closer, anyway. hopefully he'd lose the cop after crossing city lines. he really didn't want to circumnavigate the planet to get away from one cop.

he had an idea. a stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless. he was getting dangerously close to traffic and as long as you stayed tightly wrapped around him, he could slip through and cross the bridge to blüdhaven, losing the cop in the process. would you like it? probably not, but he was running out of options.

"jason, what are you doing?" you asked frantically, the bright city lights getting closer and closer.

"something stupid," he sped up, trying to put more distance between him and the cop. "do not move a muscle."

"stop the vehicle! now!" the cop yelled through the speaker again.

jason could smell the burning rubber of his tires as he turned down the street, the sound of horns honking as he slipped through traffic, the cop still hot on his tail. he slowed down a little in order to make accurate and much safer movements as traffic got denser, giving him more cars to avoid. he glanced at the mirror again, seeing he had made a some good distance. if he could keep it up, he'd lose the cop in no time. the bridge to blüdhaven wasn't much farther.

"jason, look out!" you yelled, pointing to the oncoming sixteen wheeler about to cut both of you off. there was a reason you weren't supposed to run red lights.

he had two options: come to a screeching halt, turning the both of you into projectiles or keep pushing and pray to god that you both didn't get t-boned by the s.t.a.r labs semi. jason furrowed his brows and set his jaw speeding up as much as he could. he could hear the loud horn ringing in his ears but he kept laser focus on his intended destination. he zipped past the truck, just barely going fast enough to not get hit. in the driver's attempt to not hit you two, he stopped in the middle of the street, preventing the cop from being able to follow anymore. jason's heart was hammering in his chest as he rode down the bridge down to blüdhaven, the warm yellow streetlights illuminating the way. once he crossed over, he headed to a nearby diner. he parked in the back lot, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"hey, are you alright?" he asked, taking off his helmet and getting off the bike. he hung it from the handlebar, helping you dismount. he hesitantly moved his hands towards your face, unclipping your helmet and pulling it off your head. "y/n? talk to me. are you hurt?"

"n-no, i'm fine," you told him shakily. seeing you all shaken up made him feel terrible. he wasn't sure how to comfort you without overstepping boundaries, so he kept his distance, giving you time to recover. after you collected yourself, jason flinched at your sudden physical attacks.

"i can't believe you!" you yelled, abusing his chest with smacks and punches. "you almost got us killed!"

"i-i'm sorry!" he sputtered, grabbing your wrists to stop you from hitting him. "i didn't know what else to do!"

you looked at him, a hard expression on your face. god, you probably hated him and he couldn’t blame you. leave it to him to fuck some shit up. his self deprecating thoughts began to subside when he saw the smile of disbelief forming on your face. "jason todd, you are a fucking maniac."

he loosened his grip on your wrists, a smile slowly making its way to his face, mirroring yours. "i've been called worse."

"just another fucking day in gotham," you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "or blüdhaven, i guess."

"yeah, sorry about that," he apologized with a frown. "that bastard was persistent."

"don't worry about it," you reassured him, letting out a deep sigh. "i need to call my friends and make sure they're alright."

jason nodded, grabbing his own phone. "yeah, i gotta make a call, too."

the two of you separated, jason only pretending to be on the phone so he could talk to barbara. "you there?"

"yeah. i see you went on a little drive," she said, her almost sounding like scolding.

"what the hell was i supposed to do? we had to get out of there," jason frowned.

"we?" barbara echoed and jason could practically hear the quirk in her brow.

"not important. what's important is acknowledging the fact that i didn't hear the sweet sound of your voice earlier," jason started off sarcastically, it being his turn to scold now. "where the hell were you at, almighty oracle? you didn't wanna tell me the cops were gonna show up?"

"i didn't know they were out there," she admitted honestly, sounding confused. "they must have been keeping it on the down low. the question now is why."

"probably so people like us wouldn't find out," jason sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"maybe," she sounded unsure. being unsure wasn't really barbara’s thing, so that was alarming.

"well, i doubt anything will go down at the docks now. the area's too hot."

"you're probably right. there's nothing else we can do tonight," barbara sighed. "glad you're not dead."

"yeah, thanks," jason gave her a quick goodbye, putting his phone away and walking back to his bike. you had just finished your conversation, looking relieved. "good news?"

"tyler and quinton got out fine. i think they took a different exit out because i didn't see them with that big group we were in," you explained, shivering a little.

"we should go inside. it'll be better than loitering out here," jason offered and you nodded in agreement. you entered the diner, noticing there weren't many people inside.

"let's sit in that booth over there," you pointed over to the near the window, jason's bike being visible on the outside.

you both made your way over, sliding into your seats. the atmosphere was a bit awkward initially, the both of you still coming down from your adrenaline rush. jason hooked his finger under the little acrylic standee holding the dessert menu, pulling it towards himself. a nice cup of coffee with something sweet sounded good right about now. it would definitely calm his nerves. he wasn’t sure if you’d get anything, though. maybe you were too frazzled to eat, which made him feel bad again. before his negative thoughts could return, he looked up, noticing you eyeballing the menu leaning against the window sill. you had your head tilted to the side, as the menu was stored horizontally, making it difficult to read the text. he couldn't help but smile to himself as you squinted at it. why would didn't just grab the menu to look at it properly, he didn't know. he wasn't going to question it, though, simply putting his menu back where he found it.

"what can i get you kids tonight?" the approaching waitress asked, pulling out her notepad.

"a black coffee and a slice of pie for me," jason said as the waitress quickly wrote his order down.

"is apple alright?" she asked and jason nodded. "what about you, hon?"

"um... blueberry waffles," you said, tilting your head some more before looking at her. "and hot chocolate."

the waitress smiled at your order, nodding as she jotted it down. "you want some bacon or sausage on the side? we have pork and turkey."

you hummed, drumming your fingers on the table. "yes. turkey bacon."

"shouldn't take but a minute. if you two find yourselves wanting anything else, you just let me know."

jason yawned, leaning back against his seat with outstretched arms. he did some people watching while he waited for the waitress to return. there was a small group of people, college students most likely, sitting at the middle tables with textbooks and empty plates strewn about. there was a cop sitting at the bar, very obviously flirting with the other, much younger waitress who was refilling his coffee. then there was you and him. he had been with you for quite some time now and he hadn't taken the opportunity to look at you. to really look at you. you absentmindedly played with the hair that directly framed your face while you were on your phone. you looked awfully comfortable in your oversized sweatshirt despite your shivering earlier. you weren't really dressed up, he noticed. it didn't look like you had on any makeup either. then again, tim had told him that people who wore makeup had the ability to make it look like they weren't wearing any at all. the natural look was what it was called. either way, your face looked nice. so did your hair. and your eyes, that were now gazing into his.

"you know, i definitely didn't see myself ending up here tonight."

jason's brow perked up. "what? running from the cops on the back of my motorcycle wasn't on your bingo card?"

"can't say it was," you shook your head with a smile.

"are you disappointed?"

"with?"

"where you ended up tonight."

"no," you said, not missing a beat. your lack of hesitation surprised him in the best way possible. "sure, you almost killed me but that's a typical tuesday for a gothamite."

jason grinned, biting his lip. "i'm sorry about that. really, i-"

"no, no," you cut him off, dismissing his apology with a wave of the hand. "don't apologize. it's over and done with."

even though you seemed to be okay with everything, he still felt like shit. that feeling wasn’t going away any time soon. the waitress returned with your food and drinks, receiving thanks from you both. jason immediately took a sip of his coffee, the potent flavor coating his tongue and the warmth of the liquid heating his body up. it helped soothe some of his anxiety.

"this is so cute," you muttered, taking a picture of your plate. the chef had arranged the blueberries and bacon to make a smiley face that you couldn't help but smile back at. once you got a good picture, you started digging in.

there was no conversation to be had. the two of you just ate, occasionally glancing at each other or at your phones. every now and then your eyes would meet and little smiles would be shared. you and jason were people who appreciated the intimacy of silence. not talking was often harder than holding a conversation. being able to sit in complete silence with someone and not feel uncomfortable at any point was a hard task for most but it came naturally to you both. not that you two had much to talk about anyway. you barely knew each other and you definitely weren’t about to bond over your near death experience. jason didn’t want to risk possibly fucking up even more than he already had, so not talking worked for him. it didn’t help keep his intrusive thoughts out, though. he tried not to focus on them, distracting himself with people watching and looking at you.

“where did you learn to ride like that?” you asked him, suspicion lacing your words. you popped a blueberry into your mouth, tilting your head at him.

“uh...” he trailed off, shrugging softly as he hid his face in his mug, drinking the liquid inside. “nowhere. myself. i don’t know. i guess it was just the adrenaline. why?”

you shrugged back at him, reaching over and stealing a small piece of his pie. you looked him in the eye as you ate it, licking the food off your fork as your eyes narrowed. “you know how i’m batman? i’m starting to think you might be catwoman.”

jason snorted, breathing out a laugh as he looked around the diner in disbelief. not only did he find your little joke funny, the fact that you technically weren’t that far off was amusing to him. “you’re ridiculous.”

“you aren’t denying it?” your brow raised, making him laugh again. “ah, i’ve caught you red handed.”

oh, this was just the gift that kept on giving. now you were making puns without even realizing it.

“i mean, it all makes sense. the unnecessary flirting, calling me out for being a vigilante, and now running from the cops,” you clicked your tongue with a shake of the head, carefully wiping the corners of your mouth. you balled up your napkin, tossing it on your now empty plate. “i don’t know why you thought that i, the greatest detective in gotham, wouldn’t be able to piece this all together. i’m offended, really.”

“can i get you two anything else tonight?” the waitress asked as she walked up, just missing your conversation.

“no, ma’am. i think we’re good,” jason smirked, not taking his eyes off of you. she left the check on the table, walking off. jason pulled out his wallet, leaving a twenty to cover both the food and the tip.

“wayne money or dirty money? the world will never know,” you quipped as the two of you got up to leave, making him roll his eyes.

“shut up.”

after a quick pit stop at the gas station, jason took you back to your apartment in the diamond district. the ride there was long, but nice, accompanied by music coming from the radio. a cloud 9 song played at one point and jason decided that he might have to give your discography a listen. the way you held yourself against him, nuzzling into his back gave him goosebumps. or maybe it was just the nippy temperature. he hoped that’s all it was. for awhile, he wondered if you were cold. if his jacket was warmer, he would’ve offered it to you a long time ago. and, of course, if it wasn't so cliché. with the way you were attached to him, he liked to think that his body heat was enough. relief washed over him when he pulled up in front of gotham tower. he wasn’t sure how much more he of that could take. he parked, letting you off.

"do you wanna come in?" you pulled him from his thoughts as you took off your helmet.

"come in?" he parroted, a laugh falling from your lips.

"i'm not asking you to spend the night or anything. it’s just.. you’ve been acting like my chauffeur all night and it isn’t safe to be out this late. i'd feel horrible if something happened to you," you explained, getting a smile from him.

"don't worry about me. i'll be fine. my place isn't too far from here," he lied with a shrug. his safehouse was nowhere near the diamond district but you didn’t need to know that little detail. the rest of what he said was true. he was going to be fine. “besides, i’m catwoman, remember?”

"at least let me give you my number," you insisted with a giggle, pulling out your phone. "you have to text me when you get home."

jason agreed and the two of you exchanged numbers, bidding each other goodbye. he made sure to stay and watch you go up before leaving. on his way home, he thought about your concern for his wellbeing, finding it cute. misplaced, but cute. it wasn't your fault, though. you didn't know he was more than capable of taking care of himself and the whole damn city, for that matter. you know, as catwoman. still, it was sweet having someone worry about him for a change, even if it wasn’t completely necessary. when he got back to his safe house he texted you, just as promised. you must've been waiting for him because you responded pretty quick. he crawled into bed, smiling down at the heart emojis you sent him. he decided to send you something back before going to sleep, his thumbs slowly typing out the words that popped into his head.

you better not start texting me all the time.

don't flatter yourself. i won’t.

he hoped that you would anyway.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc x reader #jason todd

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dato-potato · 3 years

Text

Broken

Yo, here’s a thing a wrote a while back and decided today was the day to post it. Anyway, I totally ignored canon for this but when do I not? Enjoy!

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Tim groaned as he lay in bed. This was the worst. Being on bed rest with a broken leg? Bad. But your (adoptive) father calling your (adoptive) brother, who, by the way, only just got over not trying to murder you to come by and look after you while he goes off on a trip? Worse. That was worse.

Tim chewed on the inside of his cheek as he waited for Jason to arrive. They had started to get better, Jason stopped trying to kill him on sight so that was improvement, right? Tim looked down at the cast on his leg and cursed it. If only he hadn’t been stupid, he wouldn’t even be in this situation. It wasn’t even during patrol, he fell on the stairs and broke his leg, how lame was that?

He heard Jason’s bike pull up and tensed up. He wasn’t sure how Bruce had convinced him, or if he had even convinced him yet. If he told him to look after Tim, surely he wouldn’t just listen.

Tim received his answer in the form of crashes and loud voices before a vehicle left the manor. He was sure it was Jason who left until there was a series of stomps getting closer and closer to his room.

His door slammed open, Jason glaring holes as his gaze passed over Tim’s room and finally fell upon Tim, lying helpless in bed. Jason grumbled about something but Tim couldn’t hear. He then threw himself into Tim’s desk chair which Tim was sure would break under the force.

“I’m here to look after you until Bruce gets back,” Jason informed Tim with a scowl.

Tim nodded, “Right, uh, how exactly did he convince you to do that?” he asked curiously, but cautiously.

Jason’s glare met Tim’s eyes, “He didn’t.” Tim waited for Jason to elaborate. When Tim didn’t drop Jason’s glare, he sighed, “Alfred called me, saying there was an ‘emergency’ so I came over as soon as I could and Bruce told me he needed me to stay and look after you, and then he left. Just like that.”

Tim furrowed his brows, “You could’ve said no or just leave.”

Jason looked as if he hadn’t considered that and then promptly shook his head. “I already told Alfred I would. It’s fine, it’s only until B gets back. Just have to waste time until then.”

“Right,” Tim agreed.

The silence that fell over the two of them was not by any means comfortable. Neither really knew what to say, Tim wracking his brain to think of something he could talk to his brother about but coming up with nothing. He wasn’t sure what they really had to talk about. Should he thank him for not trying to kill him?

Before Tim could decide, Jason cleared his throat. Trying to lessen the tension, he spoke up, “So,” he started awkwardly, “You like books?”

“What?” Tim chuckled lightly.

“Books, you know, to kill time,” Jason explained lamely.

“Are you suggesting you read me books or something to pass the time?” Tim couldn’t suppress the grin on his face. He never really pegged Jason for a book kind of guy.

“It was just an idea, you got any better ones, replacement?” Jason asked gruffly and Tim shook his head.

They sat in silence, listening to the clock tick. Tim desperately wanted to say something but the silence had grown too heavy. It was like when you ordered something at a restaurant and they gave you the wrong order but you just eat it anyway. Or maybe that was just Tim. Shaking his head, he decided to just sit back and wait it out. How bad could a whole week of just, this be?

Turns out, really bad. By the second day, both boys were even more awkward than the first, even though Tim didn’t think it was possible. They’d watched movies for the rest of the day, Tim letting Jason pick whatever movies he wanted. They all turned out to be pretty interesting to him. On the third day, they tried to make small talk but that had ended horrendously and they turned back to watching TV for help but there’s only so much TV one can watch before it’s just boring. On the fourth day of rotting their brains, Jason finally snapped.

Jason stood up abruptly, startling Tim. “I’m calling Dick,” Jason announced as he sped out of the room.

Tim was grateful for a moment to himself but was slightly worried about Jason calling Dick. Bruce would have called him but he seemed to be busy lately and they didn’t want to bother him. Not even a full minute later, Jason returned to his spot in Tim’s desk chair.

“He’s on his way,” he told Tim simply.

Tim contemplated for a moment, surprised. “What’d you tell him?”

Jason shrugged, “He didn’t let me get past telling him you had a broken leg before he was out the door and on his way here.”

Tim nodded and let out a short breath. It wasn’t great with only Tim and Jason, maybe having Dick there would help?

He could only hope.

Dick showed up with his arms full of an assortment of goods from snacks to games, blankets to puzzles. He spent a good hour fussing over Tim to make sure he was comfortable before he brought a second chair into Tim’s room and finally started asking questions.

“So what happened?” Dick asked Tim before turning from Jason and back to Tim, “He didn’t do something did he?”

Jason looked rightfully offended and fully prepared to defend himself but Tim spoke up. “It wasn't him, I did it to myself a few days before he even got here.”

Jason nodded, throwing a hand out in Tim’s direction. “See?”

Dick nodded thoughtfully, seeming satisfied that Jason hadn’t assaulted their youngest brother. “So what did happen then?”

Jason turned his attention to Tim, “Yeah, how’d you get your arm broke?”

Tim chuckled nervously, “Well, that’s a funny story…”

Neither brother budged as Tim continued to avoid both their gazes, to no avail. It was a difficult thing to accomplish when you’re on bed rest.

“Ok… well you’ll have to tell us eventually,” Dick told him with a raised eyebrow.

Dick pulled out the games he’d brought, starting with Uno. It definitely got both Tim and Jason to relax which Tim was immensely appreciative of. Turns out it’s kind of fun to play games with your older brothers.

The next day, they played some of the other games Dick had brought, making much more comfortable conversation than when it was just Tim and Jason. However, there was only so much bed rest Tim could take.

“I want to get up,” he stated as Dick shuffled a deck of cards. Jason had suggested they play poker using the snacks as money.

“That’s gonna be hard in your current state, replacement,” Jason said, eyeing Tim’s cast.

Tim rolled his eyes, “Obviously. That’s why I need your guys’ help. I want to move, at least to like, the sitting room. Please?”

Dick looked between Jason and Tim before sighing. “Come on Jay, let’s just move to the sitting room. Probably have more comfortable seats for us too.”

Jason thought for a moment and then nodded. Tim exhaled with a grateful smile. Dick dug out a pair of crutches for Tim so he could move around easier and then the two older brothers helped him down the stairs.

They played some more games in the sitting room until Tim spoke up. “Can we maybe do something else? This is getting mega boring.”

Jason swiped the game pieces into their box and folded the board, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Dick sighed, defeatedly. “And I was winning that round too.”

Jason looked around them, “Any ideas for what to do next?”

Dick looked behind himself at the things he brought, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. He turned back to his brothers with a mischievous grin. “I have an idea.”

Dick and Jason began to travel around the manor, gathering every blanket, pillow and cushion they could find and brought it to the sitting room where Tim would sort them into which materials would be best for what purpose. They moved the furniture in the sitting room around and after all the materials were collected, they started building.

Before long, they had a decent sized fort, complete with a laptop, snacks, the games Dick brought, extra blankets for comfort, a table and Alfred brought them tea. The boys all settled in, making sure there were a few extra pillows to elevate Tim’s leg as well. Once they were all comfortable, they decided to watch a movie. After a lot of arguing, they decided on The Princess Bride.

Alfred called them out for dinner, the boys having to crawl out of their fort. When they finished, they were all pretty much done for the day and returned to the fort. They lay on their backs, Dick playing with a flashlight, making shadow puppets, making up random stories as he did.

“I fell down the stairs,” Tim said abruptly.

Dick turned to him, worried, “When?”

Tim gave him a look and Jason burst out laughing. “Replacement, you broke your leg falling down the stairs?”

Tim’s face felt heated, “Yeah, I just missed a step…”

Dick was obviously trying to keep his laughter in but Tim sighed, “It’s fine. You can laugh.”

Dick joined Jason laughing hysterically and even Tim couldn’t keep himself from smiling. It was pretty stupid, he knew that.

After they’d all settled back in and finished laughing at Tim, he turned his head and looked over at Jason.

“Hey,” he said, getting Jason’s attention, “What about a book?”

Jason raised a brow at him, “What book?”

Tim shrugged his shoulders, “I dunno, you mentioned books the first day. You got any in mind?”

Jason grinned at his little brother, “Oh, replacement, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” Before Tim could ask what Jason had in mind, he was already up and out of the fort, his footsteps retreating to presumably get a book.

Dick chuckled beside Tim, “Now you’ve done it.”

Tim looked inquisitively at Dick, “What? What’d I do?”

“The kid’s a literary nerd,” he told Tim with a smirk.

Tim shifted into a more comfortable position, “Can’t be that bad.” When Dick didn’t say anything Tim got a little concerned, “Is it that bad?”

Dick didn’t answer again and Jason returned, holding a rather thick book that Tim only caught one word from; Shakespeare.

Before long, the boys began to doze off to Jason’s reading of Hamlet. As Tim fell asleep, he briefly wondered why Jason stayed after Dick came. He could’ve easily left, saying that Dick was there and he’d look after Tim. And yet, here he was, sitting in a pillow fort, reading Shakespeare for Tim and Dick. Not to mention the few times Tim was struggling to move and he huffed about how useless Tim was but still helped him.

Tim glanced over at Dick who had long fallen asleep and leaned over on him. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but think about how he never thought he’d get even one older brother, and now he had two. It was nice. Maybe the week wasn’t so bad after all. Tim didn’t think Jason would admit it, but he thought they’d all really enjoyed their time together.

Bruce returned later that night, hoping to let Jason off early.

“How bad was it?” Bruce asked when Alfred greeted him at the door.

“Oh, simply atrocious, Sir,” Alfred informed him gravely. “In the sitting room,” he directed.

Bruce rushed inside and to the room, finding a mass of blankets and pillows, a light shining from inside. He had to crawl through the small opening. Inside, he found his three boys, sleeping side by side. Jason had the big Shakespeare book from the library still open, laying on his chest, Tim was leaning on Dick who was sprawled out across Jason. All three were fast asleep. Bruce looked behind him at Alfred who smiled through the entrance to the fort.

“I dare say they had a good time,” he said as he stood up.

Bruce nodded and looked back at his boys. Moving carefully, so as not to wake them up, he draped blankets across each of them.

#batfamily #batfam #my fics #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #it's also my birthday so I thought why not post this #it's been in my drafts for a while

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imjustthemechanic · 3 years

Photo

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding

Howard, of course, is all for this plan.

Howard Stark’s hours were unpredictable at best. Sometimes he was awake for days on end working on a pet project, running on coffee, cigarettes, and whiskey until he simply ran out of steam and collapsed. Sometimes he’d been overseas for too long and had not yet reset his internal clock, so that he was up all night and slept all day. Sometimes he napped in strange places like a lazy cat. Peggy had no idea what to expect when she rang his bell in the morning.

The first thing she heard was the barking, followed by a yelp from Mr. Jarvis and a cry of, “Anna! Would you please contain this beast?” Some scuffling and more barking followed, and then the door opened. Whatever had just happened, it didn’t stop Mr. Jarvis from looking as tidy and composed as ever when he opened the door.

“Agent Carter, good morning,” he said cheerfully. “What can we do for you today?”

Behind him, Anna Jarvis was kneeling on the floor in her dressing gown, cooing Hungarian endearments to the animal Peggy assumed was called a ‘Bernese mountain dog’ not because it came from the Swiss Alps but because it was simply a mountain of dog. Its tongue was lolling out and its eyes closed in bliss.

“Good morning, Mr. Jarvis,” said Peggy. “I was wondering if Howard were out of bed yet.”

“He’s in the backyard, nursing a hangover by the swimming pool,” said Mr. Jarvis. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you.”

Peggy stepped inside and nodded to Anna and the dog. “Good morning, Anna. Zoltan.”

“Lovely to see you, Peggy,” Anna said, fondling the dog’s red and black ears. “Sorry I’m not dressed. I just have to get this fellow his breakfast.”

“It’s quite all right,” Peggy assured her. “I don’t know how long I’m likely to be here, anyway.”

Behind the house, Howard was sprawled across a chaise under the canopy, wearing his brocade bathrobe, a pair of sunglasses, and probably nothing else. Jarvis picked up a discarded newspaper and laid it discreetly over his employer’s lap before touching his shoulder to wake him. “Mr. Stark?”

“Huh?” Howard twitched.

“Agent Carter is here.”

“Oh.” Howard’s head tilted back again. “I guess there’s no chance of telling her to come back later?”

“I don’t do later, Howard,” said Peggy. Jarvis pulled up a chair for her, and she sat down across from Howard. “I need a favour… in fact, Daniel and I both need a favour.”

“Is this the part where you remind me again that you kept my ass out of jail?” he asked.

“It is.”

“All right.” Howard made an effort to sit up and look slightly more presentable – at least as much as a man could when there was only yesterday’s Examiner to preserve his modesty. “What’s going on?”

Peggy had spent a good deal of time in her bath the previous evening thinking over exactly how she was going to present this idea. “I’m sure you remember the time you had me steal back a vial of Steve Roger’s blood for you under the pretense that it was a superweapon.”

“Technically, it could be, in the wrong hands,” said Howard. “But I definitely remember where you hit me. Did you find it?” he asked, peering over his sunglasses with bloodshot eyes.

Howard did not know that Peggy had thrown the vial in the East River, and she was not about to tell him. “No. But before I tell you what I did find, I need you to assure me of your honourable intentions. If some piece of Captain Rogers or his property were to turn up, what would you do about it?”

“Depends on what it is,” said Howard, “but if it were his body I’d throw him the hero’s funeral he deserves, and if it’s the shield I’d build him a monument out of it.”

Peggy leaned closer. “You swear?” she asked.

“Cross my heart,” he said. “What have you found?”

“A set of coordinates. Seventy-four, forty-seven, thirty-five. Ninety-five, twenty-five, three.”

She could almost see the gears in Howard’s head turning as he placed them. “That’s… that’s further north than we ever looked… way up in the sea ice.” He started to get up, then grabbed at his newspaper. Peggy politely turned her head while he fixed his robe. “I’ve got a map here somewhere…”

“I know,” she said, getting up to follow him inside. “I already looked.”

In the library, the atlas Peggy had used was still sitting out on a table. Howard quickly found the same page, and the same point. “Cornwallis Island.”

“Daniel and I aren’t sure the tip is trustworthy,” Peggy explained, “so we need this to be discreet, no taxpayer money. I’m on medical leave for the occasion.”

“Of course. Not a word,” said Howard. “Just you and me and a few of the locals to carry stuff. There might not be anything visible on the surface anymore.”

“No?” Peggy asked. “Our source described the crash in some detail, as if they were there when it happened, and seemed to think there would still be parts of the plane caught on the rocks of the island.”

“Yeah, but sea ice isn’t static,” Howard said. “It moves around, and snow builds up and doesn’t melt. If the wreck’s in the ice it’ll be torn apart, very slowly, and will eventually melt out the bottom and fall onto the sea floor. The ice up there isn’t transparent, either, it’s yards thick and full of cracks and bubbles. We need a way to see what’s under it.”

“And you happen to have just the thing?” Peggy guessed.

Howard nodded eagerly. “I’ve been working on it on and off for a while now… an ice-penetrating sonar. The big problem was keeping the sound of the plane itself from interfering, but the last month or so I’ve actually had your buddy Dr. Wilkes up there troubleshooting on it. He’s a great guy for acoustics. His work on the vibration frequencies of the Zero Matter…”

“Is it ready for testing?” After knowing him for nearly ten years, Peggy was an expert at gently encouraging Howard to stay on topic.

“Yes! That’s why we moved it to my hangar in upstate New York,” Howard said. “Closer to the ice, less shipping hassle than getting it to Alaska. It’s installed on one of my planes there.”

“So we can simply fly it up to Canada and take a look,” said Peggy. That would cut down on their search time enormously, if they didn’t have to trek across the ice for days on end. “Wonderful. But as I said, we can’t have any fanfare. Absolute secrecy is best.”

Howard pouted. “You don’t think I can keep a secret, Peg?” he asked.

“You do tend to get over-excited,” she said. “And we know, by the way, that there are more of those Russian girls in the country, so you’re not even allowed to hint at it over drinks. How soon can you be ready to go?”

“I can be ready to go right now,” Howard replied. “It depends on if Jason’s got the thing ready in New York. I’ll give him a call right away.” He checked his watch. “Yeah, he’ll be up by now.”

“I should hope so,” Peggy said. “Dr. Wilkes tends to be far more regular in his hours than you. But don’t tell him over the phone where we’re going,” she added. “Treat it as just another test flight. You never know who might be listening in.”

“You can count on me, Peg. After all… you did keep my ass out of jail.” Howard grinned at her.

“Thank you, Howard.” She smiled back. “I’ll head home and pack a bag.” That wouldn’t take long. Peggy knew how to travel light.

As she was heading back to the front door, she met Mr. Jarvis coming the other way. “Agent Carter?” he said. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I have a lot to do today,” she said. “I can’t stay for tea.”

“I wasn’t about to ask you to, but I’ve just taken a phone call from Chief Sousa,” Mr. Jarvis said. “He was unable to say why, but he would like you to stop by the SSR offices as soon as possible.”

He probably wanted to know how her conversation with Howard had gone, Peggy thought, though it was strange that he’d called rather than waiting for her to contact him. “I’ll do so on my way home. Thank you, Mr. Jarvis. Give my best to Anna, would you?”

“I shall. Will we see you again soon?”

“I certainly hope so,” Peggy said.

She probably could have done more to warn Howard how unlikely they were to find anything up there, Peggy thought as she drove back to the office, but for the moment it was probably best to let him ride the initial wave of enthusiasm. The whole story could wait for their flight back to New York and the subsequent journey to the Northwest Territories. Howard and Jason’s sonar, though… that was exactly what they needed! If this were indeed some sort of trap, there was no way the Soviets would be expecting them to fly over at a height rather than hiking out from the island. If there were something there, they’d be able to get at least an idea of it without so much as setting foot on the ice. Then if it appeared dangerous, they could contact Daniel and ask for further suggestions.

“Afternoon, Rose,” said Peggy cheerfully as she entered the reception area. Rose was sitting at her desk, tiredly watching a trio of midgets in matching sequined costumes perform an acrobatic routine.

Rose did not smile back. “Oh, you got Mr. Auerbach’s message?” she said.

“I did,” Peggy nodded. “He’s upstairs?”

“Yes. So is Mr. Masters.”

Peggy’s spirits, which had been high on her drive over, sank straight through the floor. It wasn’t that there was no reason for him to be here – Peggy could think of half a dozen things he might have decided to stick his unwelcome fingers into – it was that whatever he wanted was always at odds with whatever Peggy was trying to accomplish. Daniel had rung her at Howard’s because he was trying to warn her.

She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and nodded. “I’ll head right up.”

Peggy stepped into Daniel’s office with her head held high and determination in her step. Daniel himself was not there. Vernon Masters, however, was. He was sitting in Daniel’s chair, where Peggy had sat for her interview with Lake as Agent Russel, waiting for her.

“Carter,” he said.

“Mr. Masters,” Peggy replied.

“Care to explain how another Soviet spy got into the country undetected and killed one of our most important political prisoners while you were a dozen feet away?”

He certainly did get straight to the point, didn’t he? “It is my understanding that Miss Lake drilled through the glass of the cell window and shot Dr. Zola using a police revolver with a home-made suppressor,” she replied.

“While you stood right next door and did nothing.”

“Our best information at the time suggested that Miss Lake was here for Underwood and Fenhoff,” said Peggy. “I was acting on that. We had no reason to think Dr. Zola was in any danger.”

“You sure didn’t try to protect him,” said Masters.

“We did our best to keep the entire prison secure,” Peggy said. “Perhaps you ought to question the people in charge of the Sing Sing Correctional Facility, rather than me.”

Masters sat up. “I’m going to be straight with you, Carter,” he said. “We sent an FBI agent to investigate your potential involvement in Underwood’s escape – he was drugged and robbed by a colleague of hers, who then went on to kill Zola right under your nose. You understand why this doesn’t look good for you.”

“I do,” said Peggy, keeping her body language as neutral as possible. Since Masters’ last visit she’d been telling herself not to worry about him because he had nothing on her… but now events were conspiring against her. The situation he described could easily make Peggy look like a traitor to somebody sufficiently paranoid… or at least incompetent. He couldn’t possibly have any real evidence, though, because if he did he’d be having her arrested. His ‘case’, if it could be called that, must be entirely circumstantial.

“I’m going to have a full investigation look into your conduct, Carter,” said Masters. “If you haven’t done anything, you have nothing to fear, but you’re suspended from duty as of now.”

“As it happens, I’m already on medical leave,” she said. “Chief Sousa insisted I take time off to recover from the chemical Miss Lake attacked me with. Apparently Dr. Mroczek in New York worries there might be permanent damage to my lungs.”

“From what you’ve said about these Russian girls you should be grateful she didn’t shoot you,” said Masters. He stood up from Daniel’s chair. “I’ll be checking in.”

“I’m sure you will,” said Peggy, wondering what he would think when she left the country… and how he would fit it into his personal conspiracy theory when she came back.

#fanfic #captain america #agent carter #peggy carter #steve rogers #howard stark #steggy #fix it fic

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wretchedmischief · 4 years

Text

Scream Queen (Mary Goore/Reader)

A little smutty fic inspired by a conversation with @ghouls-get-pegged and @altarsofmadnes. Mary really likes slasher movies.

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“C’mon babe, s’not that much further.”

It had been just before midnight when Mary had led you away from the party and into the forest. He’d called it a shortcut home but it seemed to be anything but. You’d been walking in almost pitch darkness for what felt like hours, the warmth of the evening becoming a cool night. The only thing lighting your path was the feeble torch you’d brought and the halo of light round Mary that flared up every time he took a draw of his cigarette.

“Pretty sure you said that half an hour ago.” The dark was starting to get to you, goosebumps raising along your skin, or maybe it was the cold. You had Mary’s jacket draped over your shoulders in a vain attempt to keep warm. “We’re lost aren’t we?” He turned toward you, face illuminated so it looked like the skull he usually painted it as.

“No faith in me huh?” He slowly moved closer to you, hand sliding round your waist to pull you in. “Or are you scared?” A grin spread across his face, his eyes staying on you as he tilted his head. He was doing this on purpose. He always did this to get what he wanted, and what infuriated you the most is that it always worked.

“‘M not scared,” you muttered, flicking his chest. A bark of laughter came from him as his hand slid down to your backside, pulling you flush against him. “Just cold is all.” A mocking cooing sound came from him that had you shoving at him. Asshole.

“You want me to warm you up, baby? Is that what you want?” He rolled his hips against yours; you could feel he was already getting hard. But that wasn’t exactly difficult, just about anything could get him hard. It’d taken you a while to get used to.

In answer, you slid a hand into his hair and kissed him, wrapping your other arm round his shoulders, his jacket falling to the ground. You could feel him smile against your lips, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth with a groan from him as his hips continued to rut against your own. It didn’t take long before he was backing you up against a tree, his lips moving away from yours to kiss and bite his way down your neck. You let your head fall back against the tree, allowing him better access as you slid a thigh between his legs, giving him something to rut against. Mary Goore, always playing the tough guy, the loud mouth, annoyingly hard to get, until he was alone with you. Then he became something a little softer, someone eager to please, to get you to cum first, someone who moaned your name beautifully as he came. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t still difficult, a exhibitonist and a bit gross, that was part of the Mary parcel. But this part, the part that had him rutting against your thigh and groaning against your neck, that part was all yours. And it was all you could think about until-

“What was that?” Your breath caught in your throat at what sounded like someone walking, twigs snapping under their feet.

“S’probably a fox,” came the muffled reply from Mary before he ran his tongue over your pulse, no doubt feeling how it had picked up. You disagreed but his hands were pulling down your jeans so you didn’t get long to think about it. Between the pair of you, you managed to get one of your boots off and your jeans off one leg. “Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he grinned, immediately pressing himself against you again, getting a hand between the two of you so he could slide his fingers inside of you. It hadn’t been entirely a surprise that a guitarist was good with his fingers but god you hadn’t expected the way he could make your legs shake within minutes.

You clung to him, the spikes on his denim vest digging into your arms but god you couldn’t care less. His fingers slipped out of you, moving instead to stroke over your clit, circling it as he sank his teeth into your neck. You couldn’t help crying out his name.

“Love it when you say my name like that,” you could feel his breath against your skin, cooling it where saliva stained it. “Sounds so good in your mouth.” You laughed breathlessly, moaning as his fingers sped up. It didn’t take long before you were trembling in his hold, rubbing your orgasm out against his fingers. They kept moving until you pulled his hand away, watching as he brought it to his mouth to suck his fingers clean.

Was that-

“I’m sure I can hear someone, I’m sure I can.” You lent against the tree, the air cool on your bare legs. “Will you go check?” A noise of annoyance came from Mary as he indicated his clear erection. “Please, I’ll let you cum inside me.” Even in the dark you could see the flush that spread across his cheeks and hear the quiet noise he made.

“Not fair,” Mary muttered before walking in the direction you’d heard the noise, his boots loud in the silent wood. “There’s fucking nothing here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah babe, I’m sure.” The sound of heavy footsteps heralded the return of Mary, already undoing his belt and flies. By the time he reached you, his cock was out, bobbing as he walked. “Now, your end of the deal.” He gave a wolfish grin, taking himself in hand and slowly stroking himself. Shaking your head but unable to hold in a grin, you pulled him in close, hooking a leg round his hips.

“Yeah yeah, I got your end of the deal.” You keep your eyes on him as you reach down between you and take hold of his cock, hearing his breath catch as you did so. Biting your lip, you carefully guided him inside you, moaning quietly as he easily slid in right to the hilt. Despite your earlier trepidation, your thoughts fled at the feeling of being filled by him, leaving you to tighten your leg round his hips and keep him close. Mary stayed still for a moment, like he was savouring the feeling of being inside you, sliding a hand round to hold your backside.

“Feel so good..” Mary muttered, pressing a kiss to your lips as he planted a hand on the tree behind you and started to move his hips. It was an awkward angle and you could already tell your back would be bruised but you could not find it in yourself to care. All that mattered was how good Mary felt inside you. “God...love being inside you,” his voice was muffled against your lips but it didn’t stop heat rushing through you, heightened by the slow but deep and firm roll of his hips.

Was that… No it can’t have been movement in the dark. Right?

Pulling him away from your neck, you pressed your lips to his, using the leg you had round his hips to urge him to speed up.He’s good at taking hints, picking up the pace until the sound of skin hitting skin gave you something to focus on other than the noises in the woods. He moved away from your lips, returning to your neck where he moaned and panted against your skin.

No you can definitely hear something.

“Mary, I think there’s someone here,” you whispered the words by his ear, breath catching in your throat as his hips stilled and he started just grinding against you.

“Yeah? You think they wanna watch? I’d wanna watch,” he growled back, continuing his hips slow grinding that was putting perfect pressure on your clit. “Should we give them a show?” He pressed an open mouthed kiss to your jaw, moving to run his tongue up the length of it.

“What if it’s the killer? The one that’s-“ your voice catches as his teeth sink into your neck. “The one that’s been murdering couples in the forest?”

“You know that’s fake, babe, come on. S’probably just a jogger or something. There’s no killers.” He laughed low against your throat, and he seemed so sure you find yourself believing him. “You gonna let me cum or is this a new way to edge me?” A louder laugh came from you, smacking his shoulder with your hand.

“Get on with it,” you whispered, pressing a kiss into his dark hair, “cum in me.” A moan came from Mary and he started moving again, speed picking up hard until he was all but pounding into you, noises leaving him freely and loudly with no effort made to muffle them. “Oh fuck, Mary…”

The sounds of your wetness are all the more lewd in the silent forest, as is the slap of skin. But in amongst it… “There’s someone here…” You clung to Mary, your mouth close to his ear. “I can see him.” A groan comes from him, his hips only seemingly to move faster, harder, his movements desperate.

“What does he look like, baby? He got a knife?” Mary’s voice is rough, the closeness to his orgasm clear.

“Yeah...yeah, a machete… Fuck, fuck fuck,” you can feel your own peak fast approaching. “He’s covered in blood, I...fuck… I can’t see his face. There’s a...a...a..” you gave your best ‘scream queen’ scream before your orgasm hit you hard, making you cling to Mary as he fucked you through it. He’s close behind you though, burying himself inside you as he came, emptying himself inside you.

You stay still for a moment, the both of you panting, skin that had previously been cold now hot and slick with sweat. He laughed first, breathless and muffled but unmistakable. You find yourself joining him, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the tree.

“Fuck,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Was that good for you?” In answer, Mary pulled you in for a kiss. Its messy, there’s far too much tongue and your teeth clink but it tells you what you need to know. This whole ‘pretend to be in a horror movie’ thing had been his idea, not that you hadn’t been happy to play along. You’d always enjoyed a slasher film.

“S’pretty cliche killer you described babe,” He smirked against your lips, pulling back to look at you. “Who was that, Michael Myers?”

“No dickhead, Michael uses a kitchen knife. I was thinking of Jason.” You gave him a shove, making him finally pull out with a hiss. “Some horror fan you are.”

“Hey, It’s hard to think when you’re balls deep in someone, alright?” He shot back, tucking his cock back in his ripped jeans, stopping to watch you get redressed.

“Yeah, it shows.” It took a moment to get back into your own jeans, as sweat started to cool on your skin. “Take me home?” Mary nodded, holding a hand out for you as he walked back onto the path.

“Wait…” He stopped suddenly, looking behind you. “Did you hear that?” He managed to keep a straight face for about thirty seconds.

“Bastard!”

#mary goore #repugnant #tobias forge #ghost #the band ghost #ghost the band #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #ghost bc #my writing

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