#maybe I’ll talk about it next month but I’ve been too nice to tim this year im sick | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Dead Clown 🤡

Jason todd x reader

Warning: smut, murder but it’s okay.

Jason pulled his helmet off and ignored the rain that poured down his face. He had to see this without a filter. He even considered taking off the domino mask but he was out in the open. The pouring freezing rain had him shivering but Jason was unaware. He literally couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The joker was laying in his back, the pasty skin on his forehead was marred by 2 small holes. The back of his stupid green hair looked almost black when mixed with blood. Blood and water mixed in a pink puddle around his head. Jason forced himself to check for a pulse before hitting his comms.

“Bats, you need to get down here,” he said in a shocked voice. “The joker is dead.”

“..... are you okay,” Bruce said in a measured voice.

“I’m fine. He was dead when I got here,” Jason added knowing he was number one suspect.

“On the way.”

Batman and Red Robin showed up shortly with Robin not far behind. It didn’t take long for the detectives to believe Jason’s innocence. The evidence didn’t match him.

Jason sat on a piece of concrete near the scene as they worked. He had hoped to see this for years now. But it wasn’t the same. Maybe it was because Jason didn’t get his revenge or because it looked too neat. Two quick shots to the brain. Probably didn’t even see it coming before he was lights out.

Bruce walked over to him as the other two took photos and bagged evidence. A little blood here. Some fabric fibers there. No fingerprints because of the heavy rain but a bullet casing.

“Did you see who shot him?”

“No B. I literally got here and he was already out. He was supposed to have a drug drop but I guess that didn’t happen,” Jason said with a shrug.

“You were going to fight him alone,”Bruce said with a raised brow.

“No. Just reconnaissance. I would have called it in,” Jason defended himself. Bruce gave him a side look before moving on to the case.

“Commissioner Gordon is on the way,” Tim said. He held bags of evidence carefully in his lanky fingers. “We’re finish collecting-“

“Can we go home, father? It’s freezing cold,” Damian interrupted. Bruce sighed before looking at him.

“Red Robin was talking but yes, you both should back to the cave to process everything. Red Hood, you too. The commissioner knows you have a history with the joker so it’s best you leave too. I’ll take care of this,” Bruce said carefully. Any wrong word might set Jason off with his trauma over the death of his murderer.

“Uh yeah, sure man,” Jason said clearly distracted. He would usually argue with everything Bruce said and this made Bruce even more worried for the young man. He sent a quick message to Dick before the commission met got there.

——————————

“We’re running the tests right now and there really isn’t much else to do. Robin already went to bed. Go home Hood and get some sleep,” Tim said by the computers. Jason hadn’t bothered to get out of his suit or shower.

“How long? How long until you get results?”

“Oh, uhhh maybe 12 hours? A while. Sorry DNA testing isn’t like in the movies. The meta or clone tests are even longer. It probably won’t be until tomorrow night that we know anything,” Tim said turning in his chair. “Get some sleep.”

Jason considered giving him a nasty comment but held it. He certainly felt dead on his feet and had a nice warm woman waiting at home for him.

“Call when you know anything,” he said with a growl.

“Yeesh, yeah. I will,” Tim said backing away. “Say it. Don’t spray it,” he muttered as Jason walked away.

———————————

Jason trudged into the apartment leaving wet clothing in his wake until he stumbled to bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. You were going to be mad at him for the mess in the morning but that could wait. He looked at you asleep on the bed. You looked so sweet and innocent. Like an angel compared to his dirty hands that practically dripped blood every night.

He slid under the blanket and pressed close to your warm form. You gasped awake before relaxing when you realized it was just Jason. Did you not realize he could kill you 84 different ways in your sleep? It didn’t really matter as you snuggled your head into the crook of his neck and slid your legs to entangle with his. Jason’s arms automatically wrapped around you and rubbed your back until your breathing was even in sleep. He stared at the ceiling until the hint of dusk could be seen outside.

Jason woke with a gasp followed by a moan as he felt perfect wet heat encompass his dick. He looked down to see the blankets move rhythmically as you slid your mouth along his dick. He blinked himself more awake to truly enjoy it.

It wasn’t the first time you had woken him as such but it was certainly a rare occurrence. Reserved for birthdays and Christmas, he couldn’t imagine what he did to deserve such a wonderful wake up.

“Fuck! Princess,” he groaned as you swirled before taking him deep. You hummed questionably.

“What did I, mmmm, do to deserve such a fuck! Perfect mouth. Perfect wake up,” he said pushing covers down to show you between his legs. You looked up at him with big innocent eyes as you licked long hot strips up his cock. You took him deep in your mouth before sliding off with a pop.

“I can’t spoil you?” You purred and he twitched. How did he get so lucky? “Do you want to finish in my mouth or can I ride you first?” You asked and he god honest choked on his spit.

“Baby, *cough* whatever you want, what. Ever. you want,” he said and you grinned before climbing up his body to straddle him. His hands ran along the side of your body before gripping your hips. You sunk down on him with a little mewl.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so wet. Do you like... do you like sucking my cock?” He asked breathlessly.

“Of course, Jaybird. Sometimes I touch myself when I blow you, like today,” you admitted with a sweet little giggle. He almost came right them. How could you say the dirtiest things while being the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Jason reached his thumb down to rub your clit as you moved. You whined before nodding at him. Your mouth fell open and your hips sped up. He knew that you weren’t going to last long. You really did get hot and bothered blowing him. You made little whined and whimpers before moaning his name loudly as you came. Your body clenching on him was enough and he thrust up into you as he came as well. You bent down and kissed him deeply. Jason was panting by the time you pulled back.

“Loved that for sure, but what the hell was that, Princess,” Jason asked breathlessly as you climbed off and threw on some clothing. You chuckled a little before tossing him his boxers.

“Just wanted to wake you up this morning. Do you want some pancakes, Jay,” you asked. He sat up and pulled them on.

“You certainly did. And I never say no to food. Especially my favorite food,” Jason said with a grin. “Is it secretly my birthday? Am I dying and you’re prepping me beforehand?”

You laughed. “You already did that, baby.”

Jason gasped a little before laughing.

“I just wanted to treat you like you deserve. Pick a movie. There’s a new slasher out that you can tear apart,” you said walking in the kitchen and grinned at Jason’s heart eye look he gave you.

He looked through the movies without paying them much mind. He’d seen the joker dead the day before and now his girlfriend was spoiling him. He didn’t know what to think about. He’d think about the joker finally being dead. He couldn’t hurt Jason or those near him any more. You’d been kidnapped 6 months earlier and it had almost ripped Jason apart when he found you bloody and beaten. Luckily alive though.

Then he thought about how sweet you were. A perfect angel who had nothing to do with that life. You couldn’t kill someone if you tried. He just wanted to keep you in an innocent bubble, especially after being kidnapped.

“Jay? Jason?” You said near him and he jumped. He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you coming over to him with a plate of food. Heart shaped pancakes covered in whipped cream stared up at him and Jason had a little grin on his face.

“Sorry, thanks. This looks good,” he said and you grinned before sitting with your own. Jason turned on a movie and sat next to you to eat.

Jason’s phone rang.

He gave you an apologetic look before answering.

“Yeah,” he answered before quickly standing up to talk in another room. Definitely bat business, it sounded like. He came back in a few minutes putting on his suit. He bent and shoved most of a pancake in his mouth. Jason pulled you to your feet and swirled you around before holding you by the waist. You giggled.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve got to work. But when I get back, I’m making up for this morning, okay? Breakfast was amazing,” he said before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You nodded before he left.

——————————

Jason arrived at the cave and realized something was instantly wrong. Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, and even Alfred were waiting for him around the computers. He slowly walked up. They didn’t think he did it, did they? Jason looked around in case of a fight.

“I have some bad news,” Dick said. Jason just stared at him. Dick sighed. “We know who killed the joker. You won’t like it. You- you might want to sit down.”

Jason frowned at his tone. It was the tone you used when telling a kid their parents died. He looked at the computer to see surveillance footage of the roof where he found the joker. He clenched his fist as the mad man walked in the screen.

“You know, this is the worst meeting place in the world,” joker said with a laugh. Jason’s eyebrows rose. He hasn’t expected audio. “So what do you have that I might want on the birds?”

A female voice off camera could be heard saying, “peace of mind.”

“Doubt you could give me that Princess,” he said in a mocking tone. His posture was casual even though the lower half of a woman’s body had walked into the screen and she held a gun in hand pointed at him. She froze at his words.

Jason couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know,” joker said. “I forget faces. Too many changing and quite a few people are a little two faced,” he said with a laugh. “But I never forget a voice. You sounded so much more sweet when you were crying tied to a chair. And the way you sobbed when I brought out the crowbar.... music to my ears. I bet it just reminded you of a certain bird that just didn’t quite make it the first time.”

“Shut up. I- I don’t care,” she said. Jason’s heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who that was before Tim’s DNA tests were complete. She moved around a little nervously.

“Honey, Princess,” he said drawn out in a mock of Jason’s voice. “Unless you plan on using that gun, put it down and we can play a game. You like games? You play one with the red bat all the time. Does he know? Does he know that you’ve been hunting me for.... geez, since you were kidnapped I’d bet.”

“Now drop that gun and I show you what pain really feels like,” he growled and she shot him in the forehead before he moved. He made a disconnected sound before falling to his knee, perfect height to be seen in the camera. She shot him again between the eyes and he fell back silently. His body splashed on the rainy roof before blood began to pool behind his head. The woman looked for a second, her body language painfully stiff, before running out the way she came.

The cave was silent as Jason realized what he just saw. He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. Has she- did she-??

“I assume the DNA matches?” He asked and Tim nodded before sliding him a paper copy. 98% match. Only chance it wasn’t you was an evil twin or clone but no, he noticed the clothing and mannerisms. It was you.

“Are you going to bring her in?” Bruce asked quietly and Jason gaped.

“I sure as shit ain’t. She killed the man who kidnapped her and abused her. That sounds like self defense to me,” he defended. Dick looked at him in pity and Jason quickly looked away.

“It was premeditated, Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s not going to prison. I’ll talk to her,” he said. Bruce gave him a hard look. “You come near her- I swear to god, Bruce. I’ll shoot you myself.”

Jason got up to leave. Dick moved out of his way. He wasn’t getting in this.

“Jason,” Bruce said but Jason was already gone.

——————————

Jason was a pretty smart guy but he was completely shocked at this moment. What possessed you to kill the joker? To seek him out? A man that tried to kill you and you were willing to meet him alone? Not even Jason wanted to do that. And that morning you were treating Jason special. He thought for a second that you killed the joker for him. It chilled him to the bone but he put that thought out of his head. No, you had your own reasons to do it.

Jason walked in the apartment cautiously. Who knows how you would be acting, the perfect girlfriend or finally breaking down when you realized you killed a man. He found you in the bedroom asleep. You didn’t look like you had just killed someone and for a second Jason had doubt but the video and DNA didn’t lie.

He crawled in bed with you. You pulled him close and laid your head on his chest and Jason’s heart hurt. You looked fine but killing people left scars and your first time killing someone was not something you forget.

You woke with a gasp and cry hours later. You trembled and grasped at Jason tightly. He woke up confused before pulling you closer.

“Hey, Princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he said rubbing your back and holding you close. “What’s going on?”

“I see him. When I sleep. Every time,” you breathed almost in tears. Jason kissed your cheek and he felt wetness on your skin. You had been crying. He didn’t want to ask but now was as good a time as any.

“Princess, what did you do last night?” Jason asked so quietly. You looked up at him quickly and it confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Nothing. I was here. All night. Wh-why?” You asked, lying terribly. Jason sighed. He closed his eyes before willing himself to speak.

“You know I’m a detective. I can tell that you’re lying,” Jason started gently.

“What does that mean,” you said a little too quickly. Your breathing started to speed up again and Jason hated the look of fear on your face.

“I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in. Just tell me what happened,” he said softly, watching you intently. You wanted to shrink away a little.

“I can’t,” you whispered. Your eyes started to water and you blinked them away.

“Did you do it? Did you kill him? I can help you,” Jason said and you froze. “Talk to me.”

“I-I did,” you said looking at him in terror. Your eyes were red rimmed. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you tight to his body. You broke down in little sobs and clung to him. “I’m so sorry that you thought you had to. I should have. I’m sorry.” He wrapped you up and made little shhh noises and you cried until you fell back asleep.

You woke up later with a pounding headache wrapped up tightly against Jason. He was on his phone but sat it down when he saw you were up.

“Hey,You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said ever so gently. You nodded.

“What does that mean?” You asked slowly.

“Red Hood took the wrap on it. No great loss with one less psycho in Gotham. Harley Quinn had an impromptu parade with hyenas and jugglers and everything. Nightwing made an appearance. Dick said Barbie slept through the night for the first time in months and she said she’d help you with anything you need,” Jason said trying to be positive. You gave him a dry smile.

“That’s nice. What about- what about Batman?” You asked.

“He’s Batman. But he’ll get over it. And the next time you kill a murderous clown, let me help. He could have killed you. And if anyone knows how to hide a body, it’s me,” Jason said giving you a squeezing hug. You smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll remember that. I’m a little sad I missed the hyena parade,” you admitted.

“Oh she’s having a parade every day this week. An anonymous donor gave her a ton of fireworks. Fairly certain it was Tim,” Jason said.

#Jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #Jason todd smut #red hood smut #batboy smut #the joker needs to die okay #and I’ll do it myself

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dickwheelie · 3 years

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This is a little specific so feel free to give it a pass if you're not into it, but would you like to like to do season 2 Lunch Date Era jonmartin with the 'friendly hugs' prompt? Thank you, and have a good day!

specific prompts are actually really nice, they give me something solid to work off of, so this was actually perfect! I had a lot of fun writing this one. thank you and enjoy, anon!

____________

Jon can't stop bouncing his leg.

He keeps forgetting that he's doing it, and then noticing again, and then forcibly stopping himself, but it never lasts long. The cafe is crowded and loud, which is distracting enough on its own, but Martin is also there, sitting across from him and tucking into a sandwich, gamely trying to engage Jon in conversation even though Jon keeps getting distracted and bouncing his leg.

"Jon? You there?"

Martin's voice fades back into Jon's awareness, and he shifts his gaze back to him. "Sorry," he says for the fifth time that lunch hour, "um, say that again?"

He feels bad. He does. Ever since he found out about Martin's CV, Jon's been kicking himself over how paranoid he'd been, thinking that Martin was out to get him, shouting at him over what turned out to be nothing. Jon doesn't want to be that sort of boss, that sort of person, but he'd just been so overwhelmed. He could hardly believe it when Martin asked him to join him for lunch, after all the things Jon's said to him. Still, he's grateful for the olive branch. It's too bad he keeps messing it up by forgetting to listen to Martin when he talks.

Speaking of--

"Oh, damn," Jon mutters, interrupting whatever it is Martin is trying to tell him. "Martin, god, I'm so sorry, I just got--"

"Distracted?" Martin says, and to Jon's surprise he doesn't seem annoyed, just . . . concerned. "I've noticed. Jon, are you feeling alright?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine." Jon eats the last few bites of his salad so he doesn't have to meet Martin's eyes.

"Sure? Because you seem really anxious." Martin's voice has that soft, worried lilt to it that Jon used to get annoyed by. It doesn't bother him so much anymore. It's . . . sort of nice, really, to be worried over, sometimes.

Not now, though. Because right now Jon doesn't need to be worried over. "I'm not anxious. Just . . . it's distracting in here. It's loud."

"Oh, well, let's go then," Martin says, finishing up his sandwich and standing up to gather his coat. "It's not too cold out. We can walk around downtown until lunch hour is over."

"I--" Jon wants to protest, but he realizes that yes, getting out of this small cafe would be very welcome. "That's . . . that's a good idea, actually."

His leg can't bounce when he's walking, and the early winter air is cold but not biting, and the walkways aren't crowded. Jon can feel himself calming down by the time they get a block away from the cafe. Maybe he had been a little anxious, after all. This was a very good idea. Martin has very good ideas, he thinks.

"If that cafe was too much," Martin is telling him, and thankfully Jon is actually able to listen to him now, "there's another place we could try next time. New Indian place, right around the corner from the Institute. Tim says he goes there whenever he has a PT appointment, to treat himself."

Jon wants to go back to the fact that Martin wants there to be a next time, but for now there's something more pressing to address. "Tim's still doing physical therapy?" he says. He'd thought he was finished weeks ago.

"Yeah, he says it's just follow-up appointments. He's mostly okay, they just need to make sure he's improving, I guess." Martin shoots him a sidelong look. "I thought you and he were close."

"Not, um . . . not so much anymore." Jon stuffs his hands into his coat pockets, ducking into his collar. "We don't really . . . talk."

"Oh," Martin says. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Jon doesn't want to get into it. Thankfully, Martin doesn't press the issue.

"Are you still going to PT?" Martin says instead. "You don't have to tell me, obviously. I just . . . I never see you outside the archives anymore."

Jon bites the inside of his cheek. "I, um . . . I sort of . . . stopped going. After the second appointment."

Martin stops short in the middle of the sidewalk, and Jon has to double back. "Christ, Jon!" he says, not angry, but aggravated. "You can't just skip out on that stuff, you could do permanent damage--"

"Martin, I'm fine," Jon says. "See, I'm walking around and everything. Trust me, if it was bad, I'd have kept going, but the whole thing was a waste of time and I had work to get done--"

"Your health comes first," Martin says, with finality, before his demeanor softens. "I'm not an idiot, Jon, I notice you staying late and coming in early, I notice when you skip meals. You're running yourself ragged. It's a job, Jon, and trust me, I know how important this work is, I get it, but none of it, alright, none of it's more important than you."

Jon blinks at him. He wants to protest, but every half-formed rebuttal sounds either defensive or outright silly. Martin is right, after all. Jon just wishes that he weren't, because then he wouldn't have to reevaluate everything he's been doing for the past two months.

Martin goes on, taking a step closer to him. "Just . . . you don't need to keep throwing yourself at a wall, Jon. At least give yourself a break every once in a while."

"I can't just walk away, Martin. O-Or, I don't--" Jon's voice has gone shaky. He clears his throat and tries again. "I--I don't really know how. There's just . . . there's so much, and I don't know where any of it leads, if it's leading anywhere at all, and . . . I just . . . I've no idea what I'm supposed to do about all of it."

Martin gives him a look that Jon doesn't know how to place. It's not pity, or condescension, which Jon would expect from most everyone else. He just looks . . . sort of sad. His hands are clasped in front of his chest, tugging restlessly on his fingers. "Jon, would you . . . um, that is . . ." Suddenly Martin thrusts his open arms out towards Jon and blurts out, "Would you like a hug?"

Jon's speechless. What a thing to be asked, he thinks, and especially by a coworker, no matter how well they know each other, it's completely unprofessional, and even if Martin were his closest friend, which he isn't, but even if he were, why on earth would Jon of all people need a hug? Sure, he's not doing all that great, but Martin doesn't need to know that, and anyway how is a hug supposed to fix anything, especially a hug from someone who doesn't know the half of what Jon's been going through lately, or how scared and confused he's been, or about Jon's very serious problems that are complicated and terrifying and can't be fixed with something as childish and simple as a--

"Yes, please," Jon says, the words coming out in an exhale of pent-up tension, and he all but collapses into Martin's open arms. His face lands just under Martin's chin, half-tucked into his shoulder, and he's just barely able to wrap his arms around Martin's midsection as Martin hugs him back tightly, squeezing him against his chest, and Jon had never known how strong Martin was, how much he had been hiding beneath those soft jumpers of his. His arms, all muscle beneath fat, feel as though they could fight off an army if they really wanted to, and despite his nagging paranoia, Jon can't help but feel utterly protected by them. He feels himself relaxing, bit by bit, sinking into the softness of Martin's chest, letting him hug him closer, just tight enough to be secure without hurting. As he leans into the hug, he doesn't feel any concern about Martin losing his grip or slipping backwards. Martin can take his weight; he knows this. He is as solid and reliable as a wall, and just as stubborn, and he will not drop Jon. Jon lets out a deep sigh, his breaths evening out and slowing, tension seeping from his limbs until he feels entirely relaxed. He feels cared for. He feels safe. It's been so, so long since he's felt safe.

He doesn't even notice that he's closed his eyes until Martin's arms shift around him, and Jon realizes they've been hugging for probably way longer than is normal. His eyes snap open and he backs off, hands sliding away from Martin, clearing his throat awkwardly. He tries not to miss the gentle security of Martin's arms.

"Um," Martin says, sounding like he's about to apologize, but Jon interrupts him.

"Thank you," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "That was--I, um. I needed that." When was the last time he'd hugged someone? Jon can't even remember. "It was really nice," he says quietly. Another one of Martin's brilliant ideas.

Martin nods, looking relieved, and perhaps a little fond, though it may just be Jon's imagination. "Anytime," he says, and Jon thinks he might mean it. He hopes he does. "What are friends for, eh?"

Jon blinks. Are they friends? How long has that been the case? He looks at Martin, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, a small smile on his face, and he thinks that yes, maybe they are friends. It would be nice to be friends, anyway. If Martin says they're friends, Jon won't correct him. "Yeah," he says, and he's very glad to see Martin's face brighten at the word. "I, um," and Jon needs to clear his throat again, "I-I'll try. To have a break once in a while."

"Promise?" Martin says, and Jon can't help but laugh.

"I promise."

Martin nods. "Okay. Good."

"This, today, lunch I mean, this was nice. I'd . . . um. I'd like to do it again."

"Oh! Um, sure. Definitely," Martin says, smiling.

"We can go to that Indian place," Jon says.

"Sure," Martin says. "Tomorrow?" His look is hesitant, but Jon's answer is immediate.

"Yes," he says, letting a smile run over his lips. "Yes, Martin, I'd like that very much."

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #gwyneth writes

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 3

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines

Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN!!!! Y'all enjoy this now, because it's only gonna get so much more angstier soon. -Thorne

Set Three Months After PT. 2:

She didn’t have to look up to know who entered the shop, because his voice carried over the air. “Melisandre!”

Humming, she immediately plated a pastry and a hot coffee, sliding it on the counter just as he sat down. “Good morning, Wally,” she greeted, watching him take a bite. “Right on time, as always.”

He smiled, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Morming Merisamdmur,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes with a snort.

“Jeez Wally, didn’t your mom teach you to not talk with your mouth full?”

Shrugging, he swallowed and said, “I was trying to be polite.”

“I think it’s more polite to chew with your mouth closed and speak after you swallow.”

They glared at each other before one of them cracked a smile and they fell into laughter. She tossed a napkin his way. “How’s your day going so far?”

Wally groaned and laid his head on the cool marble countertop. “I’ve got so much to do today, it’s not even funny.”

“Well, well, Wally the procrastinator is finally feeling his toes at the fire, huh?” She ignored his glare. “What do you have to do?”

“Barry needs my help with my cousins and my friends are coming over today to hangout and I haven’t bought any food or drinks for that and I have yet to even start cleaning my house.”

She giggled and reached over, patting his head sympathetically. “There, there, Wally. Everything will be alright. Why don’t you just bring your cousins over to your house and watch them while you hang out with your friends?”

“Because my cousins are annoying and I’m not subjecting my friends to that,” he countered and propped his chin on his palm. “Unless…”

She cocked a brow and waited for him to continue and he offered, “You come over with my cousins and help me watch them?”

“No.”

“What! Why?”

“Well for starters, I don’t know your friends and it would be weird for me to just show up.” She countered.

“They’ll like you though!” he cried, and his hand shot out, wrapping around hers. “Please, Melisandre!”

“Wally, I’ll just watch your cousins at my apartment and Iris can just come get them later, that’ll be easier and won’t force me to sit in a group of people who don’t know me.” He tried to speak but she tossed another napkin, hitting him in the face. “I’m watching Dawn and Don so you and your friends can hang out without being bothered, and that’s final.”

His face pinched. “You sure you can keep up with them?”

Something passed between them and she quirked a brow. “I can keep up with you, can’t I, Wally?”

Wally chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a fair point.” He glanced at her. “They would like you though.”

She ignored the comment in favor of, “Tell me about them. What are they like?”

He inhaled sharply and took a moment to think. “Donna’s strong willed, Roy’s loud, Lilith likes to get in your head, Garth is easy to annoy, and Dick’s kinda the glue that keeps us together.”

“Dick? He get that from Richard by asking nicely?”

Wally barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna tell him you said that.” He nodded. “But yeah, his name is Richard Grayson, but he goes by Dick.”

Her eyes almost bulged out of her head and she was lucky that Wally was looking at his watch then.

Don’t ask. Don’t do it. Leave it alone.

But she couldn’t stop herself.

“Richard Grayson?” she feigned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Wally met her eyes. “Bruce Wayne.”

She snapped her fingers. “Right! The ward.” Wiping the counter, she added, “I heard they added a new addition to that family too. A daughter, right? Cassie? Cassidy?”

“Cassandra,” Wally corrected. “Yeah, that’s Dick’s new sister.” He put his elbows on the counter. “She’s nice, doesn’t talk a lot though.”

“The quiet one, then?”

He laughed. “Of them all.”

Don’t dig any deeper, (Y/N). Keep your fucking mouth shut and let it go.

“I always wondered what happened to that other daughter he had,” she murmured, and Wally’s face blanched like he’d witnessed a murder.

“What?”

She met his gaze. “He had another daughter. I think her name was (Y/N).”

He swallowed thickly. “He does.”

“Does? She’s still around?”

“Yeah, she’s in some Italian villa.”

“Wait really? I thought she died or something?”

“What? No! She left—” Wally snapped his mouth shut like he was about to reveal a secret, but she knew anyways. “She left and went to Europe for a mental retreat.” He finalized and she wondered if that was the story Dick told him to say if anyone asked. Or maybe it was Bruce.

“It’s been like three years now, right? You’d think she’d post something on social media.”

“The whole point of a mental retreat, Melisandre, is to get away from social media.”

Oh please, I know plenty of elite who do that shit and still post crap on their socials.

“There’s no way that girl hasn’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

She scoffed. “Oh please, she’s the daughter of a multi-billionaire. There’s no way a girl that wears Gucci belts and carries Prada purses keeps herself off social media.”

Wally’s eyes narrowed like he was thinking hard about something and she internally cursed.

Oh, smooth move you dumbass.

She coughed and waved a hand. “Well, it’s all theory anyway.”

After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah…theory.” Wally got to his feet and handed her the empty plate. “I should go ahead and get back to my place and clean up before they get here.”

“Have fun,” she smiled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Take a pic with me.”

“What? Why?”

“So, I can tell my friends about you and prove I’m not lying.” He pouted. “Pretty please, Melisandre?”

Don’t do it. Dick will know. You know he’ll know.

She smiled despite her internal thoughts. “Sure.”

Wally grinned and raised the camera where she was in the background. She threw up a peace sign and gave a cheesy grin, momentarily blinded by the flash of the camera.

She spun and filled a bag with pastries then handed it to him. “Here, so you can give even more proof.”

Wally took the bag and hopped onto the counter, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks Melisandre!” And he was dashing out the door.

You’ve ruined it all. This is going to come back to bite you in the ass. And it’s going to come quicker than you think.

She frowned and wiped down the counter again, trying to ignore her thoughts. Maybe. Just maybe, it wouldn’t.

***

Waving Barry and Iris off, she smiled as the twins climbed into the backseat of their car and the taillights signaled their departure. She closed the door behind her and glanced at the mess the two tornadoes had left. Even for the little she had in her apartment, they sure did know how to make a mess.

She sighed as she bent over to pick up one of the cushions when her doorbell rang and she stood up, confusion coming over her as she made her way to the door.

“Hello?” she asked, and a muffled voice echoed from the other side.

“Melisandre, it’s me, Wally. Can I come in?”

She opened the door, surprised to see him. “Wally? What are you doing here? I thought you were with your friends?”

“Yeah, I told them I had to do something really quickly,” he said as entered her apartment. He took a moment to examine her living room. “Man, Dawn and Don did a number here, didn’t they?”

She chuckled. “We had fun building forts.” Nudging him in the side, she added, “I don’t mind the mess.” She looked at him. “Do your friends know? About you being…you know?”

He nodded. “We’re all special in some way.”

Understatement there, Wally.

“So, why tell them you need to do something then come to me? Is everything alright?”

Busying herself with the couch cushions, she waited for him to explain, but nothing could’ve prepared her for his words.

“It will be once I get to the bottom of it…(Y/N).” She froze for a split second, but it was all he needed. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) stood upright and gazed at him. “When did you know?” Her voice was a lot colder than she meant for it to be.

“I had suspicion for a while, but when I showed the picture to everyone, Dick said it looked like you.”

“Really?” she laughed. “I thought I did a good job changing my appearance from three years ago.”

Wally didn’t laugh, he merely gaped at her. “Why?”

“Why what?” (Y/N) knew what he was referring to.

“Why’d you just leave?” He took a step towards her. “Do you have any idea what your family has gone through since you disappeared on them? The grief? The shame?”

She shrugged. “I explained everything in the letter I wrote my dad, Wally. There’s no reason why they should still be concerned with me.”

“They love you!” he shouted, taking her by surprise. “They love and miss you so much!”

“My family ignored me for eighteen years straight, Wally!” She yelled right back. “What was I supposed to do? Sit and pretend being forgotten was all normal?!” (Y/N) couldn’t help but shove at his chest. “I chose to leave because my next choice was taking a swan dive off Wayne Enterprises!”

His eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “I left because the only person who cared about me, was me.” She turned and fixed the final couch cushion while he watched her do so.

“They’re still looking for you, you know. Dick is always staring at his phone hoping there’s a text from Jason or Tim that they’ve found a sign of you.”

(Y/N) sighed. “If you’re trying to guilt trip me, Wally, it’s not going to work.” She shot him a glare. “I got over the fucking guilt the second the flight to Central took off. I got over the fucking guilt the night I laid in a hotel room bed curled into a ball where I cried myself to sleep. I got over the fucking guilt the moment I realized I’ve done so much better on my own than when I was there.”

She marched up to him and got in his face. “I got over the fucking guilt when I realized Barry and Iris Allen were more of a family than four brothers and dad ever were.”

They glared at each other and finally, she let out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already started a new life here and I have no plans of ever going back.”

“At a college that doesn’t have a real name. You know that’s illegal, right?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “What’re you gonna do, Wally? March into four-C and tell them Bruce Wayne’s daughter is going to school under a false name? We both know you wouldn’t.”

“I’ll tell Dick,” he suddenly shot back, and she went rigid.

“You wouldn’t dare,” (Y/N) threatened and he took a step towards her, getting nose to nose with her.

“Try me.”

They stared one another down and she said, “I think you need to leave, Wally West.”

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I guess I should.” He spun on his heel and marched to the door, but stopped when she questioned,

“Are you really going to tell him?”

Wally gazed at the ground for a moment then he murmured, “…No…it’s not my place to.”

(Y/N) swallowed and nodded. “Thank yo—”

“Don’t thank me, (Y/N). I’m lying to my best friend about knowing the real location of his baby sister he misses dearly.”

She looked away. “Cassandra is his baby sister now. He should focus on her.”

“You really have no idea about what they feel for you, do you, (Y/N)?” He asked, and she grunted.

“Get out, Wally.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gone,” he spat, slamming the door behind him, hard enough that it shook the walls that held the doorframe.

(Y/N) stared at the door for a few moments then cursed sharply and collapsed onto her couch, eyes directed to the ceiling. Three years down the drain in one conversation.

Way to go, (Y/N). You did a spectacular job of keeping it all under wraps.

She groaned and picked herself off the couch, not caring about the mess as she headed to bed. She’d deal with it all in the morning.

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nat-20s · 3 years

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for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #AHHH this is just over TWO THOUSAND words #i really was like for the last prompt i will not Shut Up lmao #also fun fact! part 4 was specifically designed to not be clear whether it was from jon or martins perspective

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oreo-bixch · 3 years

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I need to air out my brain so have some of my

Timkon headcanons

Kon developed a crush first. He really tried not to, but just couldn't stop himself. It was out of his control, completely smitten before he could register it

Tim just thought of them as close friends. Ironic how he's so smart and yet so oblivious to his own feelings. It wasn't until Kon came out as bi that he took a step back and realized that it was strange just how happy he was to know Kon wasn't straight.

If it were Bart coming out he'd be like "hey, nice bro" but when Kon did it he found himself thinking "omg omg omg he likes guys?? He likes guys??? Omg I'm a guy, that means he could like me. Omg wow that's so wild wow...now wait a damn minute-"

It was about 3 months of mutual pining until they finally confessed

Altho they definitely told Cassie

Poor Cassie was itching to just tell them already but she swore she wouldn't, and she's a very reliable person, would literally take a secret to the grave. She spent 3 months sitting back watching Tim and Kon pine after each other while knowing how they felt. It was torture

Meanwhile Bart was oblivious lmao

Bart's a great friend but he's not so good with secrets. He's got a little problem where he speaks before he thinks

Finally Kon made the first move...well kinda

He was sooo ready to just tell Tim in person, and then he settled on maybe a phone call, actually no, a text might work better...or maybe he'll just wait another week

And so he decided to have Cassie do it for him, what can I say, our boy Kon is afraid of rejection

It's bad enough Clark didn't wanna be his dad, what if Tim didn't wanna be his bf? That'd be harsh

And so Cassie called Tim up one evening and spilled the beans, which was a huge relief for her, and Tim was pleasantly surprised

He was also freaking out

He didn't know what to do, he wanted to call Kon immediately and tell him that he felt the same way, that he wanted to be more than friends, to be boyfriends. But then he collected himself, decided he wanted to tell him in person. Someone's gotta put on the brave face

So he texted Kon, asked if he was free to hang out at the Manor, talk abt a little something that Cassie brought up.

Kon was so nervous but he agreed and the next day he went over to the Manor.

Usually Conner was really chill with the Batfam, the Manor was practically a second home, but this time he was hella awkward. Mans was nervous

But they sat down in Tim's bed and talked. They talked abt everything, how long they've felt that way, how much they've been wanting to tell each other, when they first knew, I mean everything.

Kon asked what this meant, what this made them? And Tim said whatever he wanted

Kon had come out just 3 months prior to this and in a way, this was Tim's coming out. It was all so new for them, and it was nerve-wracking and exciting and crazy. But they were ready, and so they decided they would be boyfriends

Idk I guess that's how it works but anyway

Cassie was sooo happy for them and could finally spill all the beans

"omg FINALLY!! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO KEEP QUIET ABT IT ALL"

And then Bart's just there like

"wait, Cassie knew? You told Cassie but not me??" >:/

Either way their friends were super happy for them

Tim told the Batfam abt a week later and everyone was super supportive and sweet about it. The Batfam actually likes Conner so they were excited for them

Alfred saw it coming a mile away, but he's happy for Tim since Conner's a good kid. A little obnoxious but they're a good fit

Dick was so happy for them, he likes all of Tim's friends and he knew for a while that they were a little closer than most. He accepted Conner into the family with open arms bc he's the best, like what do you expect

Jason was like "damn, didn't know u were bi. Cool tho, have fun dating ur annoying ass friend"

That's the extent of Jason's brotherly love

Damian was similar in that sense, he blatantly told Tim to his face that "Kent could do better but I suppose that's great news for you"

Bruce was happy asf for his son, being bi himself he was really supportive and proud of him. Plus Conner wasn't all that bad, yea he knocked over that expensive vase that one time and he's always yelling during sleepovers and he nearly ran over their cat that other time but hey, he's a good kid.

Babs and Cass and Duke were all happy for Tim too, Steph found out a few months later just bc her and Tim are exes. Not that there's bad blood between them, things just get a little awkward sometimes.

Kon didn't tell his family until about 2 months into their relationship. Except for Jon, he found out the same week but was sworn to secrecy.

Kon was really nervous to come out and tell his family bc he didn't know how Clark or Lex would react. He wasn't too worried abt Lois, he knew she would be supportive. But Clark and him were constantly at each other's throats and Lex wasn't all that good at listening or connecting to Kon.

Despite his daddy issues tho, both dads were really accepting of Kon and we're happy for him and Tim. Clark gave Kon the biggest hug and assured him that no matter how much they fought, he'd always be there for him. Lex also, surprisingly, hugged Conner and told him that who he loved didn't matter to him.

Kon and Tim's favorite date spot is this humble little coffee shop on a corner in Metropolis. Tim can feed his caffeine addiction and Kon can stuff his face on their freshly baked pastries

Altho Lex really wanted some of those WayneTech secrets

And yea those are my hcs on how it all started :)

I'll make another post for my other hcs since this one is long enough

#mine #my hcs #hc #headcanon #dc #dcu #dc hc #young justice #young justice 2019 #timkon #tim drake #conner kent #kon el kent #kon el #ship headcanons #timkon hc #superboy #red robin

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multi-fandom-freak0221 · 3 years

Text

You Killed Me, but I Survived and Now I'm Coming Alive

Hey guys. It's been a minute. My job have been kicking my ass. I quit one of them a few months back cause 16-18 hour days were kicking my ass. But my dad died of Covid 1/20/21, on my older sisters birthday and month before my 20th birthday. I am half a country away from him and I won't be going to see the rest of them, but I do have 3 paid days bereavement and while I'm trying to distract myself I decided to try and finish this part. Your feedback motivates me so much. This part was the part I've been waiting for. The whole reason I created this fic. Like for real I had like maybe one sentence summaries planned for the other two parts in my head but this part played out like a full movie in my head down to the last details. This one will probably be the longest. It also has like 3 songs in it because it's the concert/gala scene hopefully I'll be able to cut it down some because i won't need descriptions between every lyrics but who knows. C'est la Vie. Anyways this will be the official last part, but I do already have one for sure bonus planned and a possible bonus that I might do if enough people want it.

This part's title is from "Miss Moving On" by Fifth Harmony. And this part includes the songs "Sorry (I'm not Sorry)" by Demi Lovato, "Home" by Philip Phillips, and "Symphony" by Clean Bandit ft . (Which for me is like a fucking poly anthem. I'm mean a symphony is a perfect metaphor for a healthy poly relationship! I mean it is a lovely way of asking to join into a poly group! Anywho I'm ranting and projecting. Ignore me.)

This is Part 3 of my fic based on @maiisdaddy 's Love of Three.

Tagging list:

@thestressmademedoit @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @lizziejay @indecisive-mess-named-me @captainmac6 @luveverything12 @kris-pines04 @brokenwordsarehard2 @roselynfey @mewwitch @stainedglassm

Part 1 Part 2

Marinette was ecstatic. She was extremely proud of all that she had accomplished in the 6 or 7 seven months since she left Damian. She became a singing sensation and recorded a whole album that would be releasing soon. She spent time healing and hanging out with her friends and pseudo family. Hell she even created outfits for herself and all her friends for the album release/identity reveal gala her Uncle Tony decided to throw for. Not that other guest knew that what this gala was for. Uncle Tony had picked the next closest international holiday and claimed it was a charity gala in honor of said holiday. While he may mot have been being entirely truthful there is never a bad reason to give to charity so she wasn't going to dwell on it.

She could truly say she totally over Damian. She even had Adrien take the ring back to her old apartment for her. She was not worried about him anymore. She had more important matters to attend to. Like the 3 boys who stole her heart while helping her piece it back together. Which she would say was great timing because she was sure Bruce Wayne would be at this gala. She guesses it was some kind of billionaire/millionaire code to never miss a charity event hosted by a fellow billionaires/millionaires.

Either way it was for the best because as soon as Uncle Tony had suggested a gala to reveal at, she had Uncle Jagged help her with two songs that she kept secret from everyone. One to show her appreciate for all her family and friend's support for her and one to confess to the 3 boys who loved her when she felt unlovable. She was going to preform these song for her friends in front of a lot of influential people but she wasn't even nervous. Not even when Alix told her that the gala was to be live streamed. No she was just excited and happy to let her friends know how she was feeling.

The gala was in full swing. All the guests who were coming were already there by the time Marinette and everyone else she came with arrived. She was talking with Chloe, Kagami, and Alix when she decided to grab herself a drink. She was walking to the refreshments table when accidentally bumped in someone's back slightly. "Oh! I'm sorry, sir."

The man then turned around to reveal to be Bruce Wayne himself. "Marinette! I'm surprised to see you. Damian said you were feeling too sick to attend."

Marinette wanted to scowl, but she managed keep her face neutral. She knew there were reporters swarming here and she did not want to make a spectacle. "I'm sure he did. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne I was on my way to get a drink." She didn't even get a chance to leave Bruce in confusion from her statement. No sooner than she took a step to leave did Dick walk up to her.

Dick smiled at her as he greeted her kindly. "Sunshine! It's been a while. I thought Damian said you were under the weather?" As he moved in to hug her she sidestepped out of his reach.

Once upon a time she loved Dick's hugs, but now it would just feel fake. "I'm sure your brother has said many thing about my lack of attendance to many social gatherings. Unfortunately those claims were false as Damian has not been privy to my whereabouts in months. Now if you please excuse me."

She went to walk away again, but she guesses Dick's interference was enough time for Bruce get over his shock because he blocked her path again. "What are you talking about Marinette?" Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Mr. Wayne it has been nice talking with you but this really is a conversation for another time." Marinette sighs. She was trying to be civil. She was sure there were reporters everywhere waiting for the big scoop. She wanted that to be her reveal not her past relationship with an asshole. "Besides this is probably something you'd need to talk to Damian about."

"Talk to me, about what?" There is no God, she was convinced. The sigh that left her mouth was long and full of suffering as she turned around with a clearly fake smile. Facing her now was Damian himself with Tim and Jason behind him. Damian was clearly extremely shocked to she her, but he played it off quickly. "Angel I thought you weren't feeling well. Why didn't you tell me you changed your mind? You could have came with us."

Marinette ducked out of Damian's reach, barely restraining from stomping on his foot with her heels, as he tried to kiss her. "Do not call me Angel. And don't you dare even try to kiss me, Wayne."

Before Marinette could lose her temper anymore Luka came and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Everything okay, Melody?" Marinette took some calming breaths as she attempted to regain her composure.

While she was trying to calm down, it seemed the Wayne family was getting worked up. "And who is this, Marinette?" Bruce asked accusingly.

Marinette looked at the family in front of her in disbelief. "You all met Luka. He's my best friend. Signed under Jagged. In a committed relationship with two of my other best friends, Kagami and Adrien." She shook her head as the all held sheepish expression for assuming the worst. "Not that who I'm with is any of your business anyways."

Before any of them could question to her statement, Felix comes to her other side and whispers into her ear. "Do you want me to call security?" She didn't even get a chance to respond before she heard Dick gasp, scandalized.

"Marinette!! Are you cheating on Damian?" Dick exclaimed. At this point Marinette knew they were drawing a crowd she was trying to keep everyone's dignity intact, even though her reputation wasn't the one at stake.

"Mr. Wayne I once again implore you that we have this conversation in a more private setting." Marinette spoke calmly, but through gritted teeth. She was on her nerve.

Bruce crossed his arm and spoke loudly drawing more attention to them. "No. I demand you explain to me at once why you are here with another man when you are supposed to be marrying my son. Was this all some kind of ruse to go after the Wayne Fortune?" Her jaw dropped. She knew it did but she couldn't stop herself from the shock. The sheer audacity of this family before her. She quickly shut her mouth as her eyes narrowed into a deadly glare. Her Ladybug glare. The Wayne family would never admit it but an involuntary shiver went down their spines at the sight of it.

She knew her friends had gathered behind her at this point and see could see the reporters pushing past each other to get the scoop. Vicki Vale was the closest one. In the corner of her eye she saw the camera that was set up for the livestream as well.

Marinette face finally settled on a look mixed with anger and mischief. "Oh? So want to cause a scene, Mr. Wayne? Well how about I put on a show?" She continued to stare Bruce in the eye as she spoke to one of her, "Chloe, can you tell Jagged that I'll be opening with Sorry. The rest of the show will go as planned." Chloe smiled wickedly before going to do asked.

The Wayne family began to smirk when they heard her say sorry, but whatever they began to feel was quickly shut down as she spoke to them again. "Let's get this straight, Mr. Wayne. I am not cheating on Damian and I never once desired to a part of your family's fortune. It was foolish of me to even once want to be a part of your family but I quickly learned better. I would not want to even look at the money that is connected to your family's name if the requirement was to be even cordial with Damian, let alone married to him."

She then towards the crowd the surrounding them. "If everyone would please take their seats facing the stage the show is about to to begin." Without a second thought Marinette headed towards the stage while the rest of her friends took their seats. Some one who was in the staff working tonight led the Wayne family to seats right in front of the stage. Soon everyone was seated and Marinette was standing center stage with a microphone.

Marinette smiled brightly at the crowd. "Thank you all for coming. I'm sure you all know me as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, pseudo niece of Tony Stark and Jagged Stone, and for some of you ex-fiance of Damian, but for others you still current fiance of Damian Wayne. Well I hate to inform that some of you are wrong. Anyways I'm sure your wondering why I'm up here. Well Uncle Tony promised a surprise musical guest so I'd like to reintroduce myself to all of as Neon Titanium! I'm going to be preforming a few songs for you tonight from my new album about to release but before that I decided I should clear the air. Let me start by saying it has been about 7 months since I broke off my engagement to Damian Wanye. While most of you know I chose to kept the reason of said break up private, someone here tonight decided that they were entitled to the reason to being told to them, very publicly. And who am I to deny such a request?" There was a false sincerity to her final sentence that seemed almost menacing.

In the front you can see the paling faces of many of the Wayne men as Tim is on his phone. He finally pulls up Marinette interview that was released prior to Damian announcement. "Damian, what the hell did you do?" Tim voice was barely above a whisper but they all heard it.

Marinette continued on quite content to the situation before her. "Well here's the truth. Damian did the unforgivable. He repeatedly cheated on me while emotionally abusing me and gaslighting me.

"He kept me from seeing everyone I cared about and his own family, claiming it was for my own safety and called me selfish for wanting to leave the apartment he kept me locked in. And while at first he seemed to actually be concerned my wellbeing, over time he stopped caring.

"He became distant, turning back into the Ice Prince you all knew him to be. He would lie about why I wouldn't leave the apartment constantly while still leaving me alone in the apartment constantly. Then he started getting late night calls from "work" to the point I would barely see him. I overheard one of these calls once. I heard him telling who ever was on the other side of the phone that I had no clue and to be waiting for him naked. But I stayed hopeful. I thought I could fix things. But he got worse.

"He was slept with the one person who made it their life goal to take everything from me. Even before I moved to Gotham, this girl hated me and she took all of the people who I thought were my friends and turned them against me. My true friends stayed and knew the truth but it still hurt. And Damien knew this. I told him all about this girl abd how she hurt me. Yet he still slept with her.

"The girl knew I was Damien's fiance. Somehow she got my number and sent me a picture of her in bed with Damian, both of them naked. I'm not going to lie I broke down when I saw that. Before her I could play ignorant and act like I didn't know what he was doing. But this? This was impossible for me to ignore. He cared so little about me that he slept with the one person who do whatever it takes to hurt me. I left that same night with only the things that were mine. Everything I bought came with and everything he bought me stayed. Including the cell phone he bought me when I moved in with him. The only thing that wasn't mine that came with was the engagement ring because I couldn't bring myself to truly accept the truth that it was over yet. I later on had it returned because I remember Mr. Wayne saying it belonged to his mother, though I'm guessing Damian didn't notice."

Marinette saw Bruce whip his head towards Damian who shrunk in on himself.

"Oops. Guess it wasn't noticed indeed. Anyways. For the last 7 months I have been living in Stark Towers with my Uncle Tony, healing with some of my closest friends helping me. And after some convincing working on an album with Luka and my Uncle Jagged. I will preforming a few of those songs for the gala tonight and they will also be live streamed for those who paid for virtual tickets. My album will be released in the next following week." Marinette took a deep breath as she prepared for her first song.

"Originally I planned to open with a different song tonight but after this impromptu info dump, I thought only fair to follow it with the song I wrote dedicated to Damian. I like to call this one Sorry" As Marinette finished the music started playing over the speakers. Soon she was singing passionately.

Now I'm out here looking like revenge

Feelin' like a ten, the best I ever been

And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this,

But it gets worse (wait a minute)

She pointed to Damian while rolling her eyes.

Now you're out here looking like regret

Ain't too proud to beg, second chance you'll never get

And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this

But it gets worse (wait a minute)

She took the mic off it's stand as she walked along the front of the stage.

Now payback is a bad bitch

And baby, I'm the baddest

You fuckin' with a savage

Can't have this, can't have this (ah)

And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Being so bad got me feelin' so good

Showing you up like I knew that I would

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned

Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns

Baby, fineness is the way to kill

Marinette gestured to herself from head to toe.

Tell me how it feel, bet it's such a bitter pill

And yeah, I know you thought you had bigger, better things

Bet right now this stings (wait a minute)

'Cause the grass is greener under me

Bright as Technicolor, I can tell that you can see

And yeah, I know how bad it must hurt to see me like this

But it gets worse (wait a minute)

By this point Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien had got up and started dancing along to the song.

Now payback is a bad bitch

And baby, I'm the baddest

You fuckin' with a savage

Can't have this, can't have this (ah)

And it'd be nice of me to take it easy on ya, but nah

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Being so bad got me feelin' so good

Showing you up like I knew that I would

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned

Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns

Marinette waved to her 3 friends to join on stage for the next part.

Talk that talk, baby

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby

If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby

Everyone was clapping to the beat while Marinette pranced across the stage, except for the Wayne family.

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby

Oh yeah Talk that talk, baby

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby

If you talk, if you talk that talk, baby

Better walk, better walk that walk, baby (oh yeah)

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Being so bad got me feelin' so good

Showing you up like I knew that I would

Baby, I'm sorry (I'm not sorry)

Feeling inspired 'cause the tables have turned

Yeah, I'm on fire and I know that it burns

As the song came to a close, there was a roar of applause as her friends went back to her table.

Marinette did a little half bow. "Thank you. Thank you."

She wait till it was quiet again as she returned the mic to the stand. "Now as you can all see I'm doing much better now and I'm happy without him, but if it wasn't for the support system I have I never would have made it to where I am. My parents are in France so in my time of need I turned to my family who was close. My uncles Jagged and Tony, and my aunts Penny and Pepper. They're wonderful and they have always been there for me when I need them. And also my friends, both old and new have stood by me through all of this and helped me come out stronger. So this next song was a surprise gift for them."

Jagged had grabbed an acoustic guitar and was playing her in sitting in the background of her as a projection shined on the wall behind her, showing pictures of her with her friends and her uncles and aunts.

Hold on, to me as we go

As we roll down this unfamiliar road

And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm going to make this place your home

She took the mic off the stand again as she walk off the stage to her friends and family in the crowd giving the hugs as vocalized along with music.

On the screen was several pictures she found. She put together the slideshow herself. There was a picture of herself crying in the midst of group hug while the people around her comforted. Another was her and all her friends playing in the pool. There was one where they had an impromptu free-for-all dodgeball game and she had won. She was laughing as the guys lifted her into and the girls were all cheering around her.

She made her way back to the stage after the final hug.

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you're not alone

'Cause I'm going to make this place your home

She smiled as projector turned off and the crowd applauded again. "Thank you all. But truly thank you to my friends and family for helping and supporting me."

She waited till it was quiet once more before speaking again. "All those who love me have done so much for me, but right now I wanna talk about 3 very special people."

She smiled softly as she looked over to where Peter, Felix, and Jon were sitting. "These 3 boys did so much for me even though they were the ones who knew me the shortest. They've been kind and patient and understanding with me. They all started to love me when I felt my most unlovable. And soon they found a love in each other as well. The best part is even after loving each other they offered to include me in their love as well, whenever I was ready. They gave me their friendship unconditionally no matter what my answer came to be and never rushed me for an answer ever. So Jon, Felix, and Peter this song is for you."

She saw the Wayne family's eyes widen, but she paid them no mind as she started singing.

I've been hearing symphonies

Before all I heard was silence

A rhapsody for you and me

And every melody is timeless

Life was stringing me along

Then you came and you cut me loose

Was solo singing on my own

Now I can't find the key without you

And now your song is on repeat

And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete

So if you want the truth

I just wanna be part of your symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

I'm sorry if it's all too much

Every day you're here, I'm healing

And I was runnin' out of luck

I never thought I'd find this feeling

At this point Marinette had walked down the stage grabbed Jon's hand and led him back to the stage dancing.

'Cause I've been hearing symphonies

Before all I heard was silence

A rhapsody for you and me

(A rhapsody for you and me)

And every melody is timeless

She repeated the process with Felix as Jon danced nervously danced on stage.

And now your song is on repeat

And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete

So if you want the truth

She left Felix and Jon dancing together as she brought Peter back to the stage with her. She continued to dance with him as she sang.

I just wanna be part of your symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

Ah ah, ah

She smiled as Peter dipped her before bring her back up and handing her off to Felix.

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

Ah ah, ah

Felix twirled her, letting her dress flare, as she spun right in to join awaiting arms where he lifted her into the air.

And now your song is on repeat

And I'm dancin' on to your heartbeat

He slowly set her down and she turned until her back is against his chest. His hand are on hips as they sway gently.

And when you're gone, I feel incomplete

So if you want the truth

Peter and Felix were mimicking her position with Jon in front of her and she put an arm around Peter's neck while the other still held the microphone.

(Oh, oh, oh)

I just wanna be part of your symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Symphony

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

Symphony

Like a love song on the radio

Will you hold me tight and not let go?

This time as she finished singing the crowd was silent as she looked at the 3 boys who held her heart. "Jon. Felix. Peter. You guys are some of the best people to ever walk into my life. I want nothing more than to be with you 3. So if you are still willing, will you do me the honor of calling me your girlfriend?"

She looked hopeful as the silence filled her ears. It felt like hours, even though it was definitely seconds, before she heard them all say yes.

Cheers erupted as Peter kissed her and Jon and Felix kissed each other over the former two's heads. She then turned kissed Jon as Peter kissed Felix, before kissing Felix as Jon kissed Peter. She grinning wildly when the all finally pulled away from each other.

She raised the mic to her lips as she closed out. "Thank you all for being here for my reveal/debut! I got one more song that I'll be preforming at the end of the gala, so y'all have fun and mingle. Once again, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Neon Titanium, I'm glad you enjoyed the show!"

She winked at Bruce on her last word as she walked off the stage with the loves of her life to where her family and friends were waiting for her.

Her and her boys (and Kwami does she love that -Her boys) were in the midst of getting congratulations when she heard someone clear their throat behind her. Bruce Wayne stood as tall as ever though he refused to meet any of her group's eyes.

"Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I apologize for my early behavior tonight, I was missing the whole story." He voice was steady but some shame shone through. His boys were behind him all of them also looking sheepish except Damian who was glaring at her new loves Jon in particular.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know as well as I do that the media are sharks, and events like these are a feeding frenzy for them. I tried my hardest to keep all of our reputations intact tonight, a lot harder than I should have since I had nothing to hide since I was the victim here. Yet, you in no regards of the truth, attempted to smear me with no hesitation. Personally the rest of you did nothing to me so I had no ill will towards you, but you forced my hand. The results of today are direct consequences of your own actions."

Before anyone else could speak up Damian did. "Kent," He nearly growled. "Why didn't you inform me as soon as you knew she was gone. As my best friend you should have informed me immediately!"

Jon answered lowly in a dark tone no had ever heard him use before. "My father tried to warn you father, Wayne, but when questioned you just dug your own grave deeper. Besides as my father explained to me it is not our job to make sure you two are aware of the going ons of your own household. Also you lost the right to be my best friend when you decided to be so cruel to the person you were supposed to love and then lie when confronted about it."

Marinette scoffed. "I figured when you finally noticed I was gone you'd assume I was off throwing a temper tantrum in hiding somewhere and that I'd come back. The fact that you weren't even worried about me in all that time I was missing is really telling."

Bruce glared Damian down from respond as his brothers held him back. "I just have one more question before we rightfully leave you alone. You said you had the ring return? Where could it possibly be?"

Marinette shrugged. "I had Adrien return it a couple months ago. Damian was fucking some girl in his apartment when Adrien walked in and he didn't even notice him set it on the dresser. I believe heard on the grapevine someone named Lila is claim she's Damian's true love and he had to keep up our engagement for appearances. She also claimed he proposed to her with a Wayne family heirloom until he get away from me. I guess maybe next time Damian should pay better attention to his house guests." She giggled sarcastically afterwards.

Bruce frowned as he nodded. "I see. I'll leave you all alone now. Have a wonderful evening, and congratulations." As he led his family away Marinette could hear whispered yelling but could make out a few phrases like "PR Nightmare", "priceless heirloom", "huge mistake", and even "major fuck up".

As soon as they were out of hearing range Marinette started laughing, causing everyone around her to laugh too. She finally calmed down eventually but her large smile never went away. This is the happiest and the most free she's felt in the long time.

#maribat salt #marijon #maribat #marivenger #felinette #spideybug #OT4 #me????projecting onto characters????? It's more likely than you think #honestly at this point #yall should clearly see i got issuses #also the wayne family gets burned!!!!!#mari might forgive most of them #but Bruce and Damian are dead to her #bamf marinette #she takes no shit #am i projecting my poly ass?#you mcfucking bet #she got no time for assholes #neon titanium

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elareine · 3 years

Note

If you could, can you please write JayTim or RoyTim (whichever one you want) trying to be romantic and woo Tim (maybe with some puns, I love puns), but Tim is a bit oblivious towards it, because the other is so cool, therefore they must be trying to make friends and be nice with him and nothing more. So when he does finally realize its an italicized "Oh" moment.

Hi lovely!! Thank you for waiting so patiently for this fill. I... ended up making it JayRoyTim, I hope that's okay? It just fit so well, but I can totally write something else with JayTim or RoyTim for you if you want :)

Also, it turned out to be about pick-up lines more than wooing, sorry. I might’ve gone overboard with googling the puns. It's long enough that I put it on ao3, too. What's your username on there? Then I'll gift it to you.

if you were a transformer (you’d be optimus fine)

“Well, here I am.”

Tim looks up, utterly confused. “I didn’t call for you, but… that’s… great?”

Roy waggles his eyebrows. It looks faintly disturbing. Redheads should maybe not do that. Or, actually, Tim revises mentally, thinking of literally every other redhead Dick ever dated—that’s just Roy. “What are your other two wishes?”

“Coffee and some silence to finish working this case?”

Roy looks weirdly deflated at that, but he does get him some coffee. Tim soon forgets about it.

—

(“How’d it go?”

“Does obliviousness run in the family?”

“Yes. Yes it does. Have you met Bruce?”

“…okay, fair. Your turn next.”)

—

“Jason? What’re you doing here?”

Sure, Jason and Roy have been spending a lot more time in Gotham lately. Something to do with a case, Tim assumes. Maybe even with the one that they worked on together in Star City five months ago?

Anyway. They’ve been around, is what Tim is saying. Not at the manor, but at Tim’s apartment and his workspace, cause apparently it’s not worth rebuilding their safe house after it went up in flames, and Bruce and Damian are too often at Dick’s place. He’s not exactly surprised to see either of them anymore. (Pleased, yes. But not surprised.) However, Tim has no fucking clue why Jason is currently grinning at him from the other side of the library desk.

At least Tim has the good sense to check his name tag before he gasps: “Jason?”

“Oh, hey, Tim.” Jason’s grinning. “Guess you figured out my new job, huh?”

“Yeah.” Tim shakes his head. “Color me surprised.” So this is what Jason’s spending his days doing. He’s gotta be shadowing someone, right? Tim’ll ask him tonight.

“I’ve always liked this place.” Jason’s gaze is far away for a moment. Tim badly wants to know what he’s remembering. Then the older man seems to come back to himself and gives Tim a weird—maybe angry?—look. “It’s a good thing I’m a librarian, too, cause I’m totally checking you out.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” Tim grabs his book and demonstratively walks over to the self-service scanners. Really. How rude.

—

(“Are you telling me he managed to resist you in your cardigan?”

“Apparently.”

“Aww. C’mere, babe.”)

—

So Roy blows things up all the time. No, really, Tim now totally understands why Dick was so happy when he heard the duo is camping out at Tim’s place for a change. His older brother even gave Tim a thumbs-up, for God’s sake. He must’ve known.

Cause yeah, there’s at least one explosion every two days. Or Roy dropping something cause he’s too focused on what he’s thinking to remember what his hands are doing. Or something dropping on him. Jason seems used to it; he just catches whatever it is or laughs at Roy. Tim… is starting to learn to do the same, actually. Whatever Roy comes up with at that moment is usually worth it, and besides, he’s kinda adorable.

Aaaaaaanyway. (He’s using that word a lot in his own thoughts right now. Almost as if he’s avoiding thinking about something. Hmm.) Tim’s not surprised when Roy walks into a room, stumbles, and slaps a hand over his eyes with a dramatic exclamation.

Tim, in shorts and not much else cause he got drenched in pollen earlier, just raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Roy?”

“Nope.” Roy’s hand is still covering his face, but Tim can still see his grin underneath. “I’m gonna need your name and phone number for insurance purposes.”

“Roy. You have both of these things,” Tim explains slowly, wondering if Roy sustained a brain injury or accidentally dosed himself on something. “And why insurance?”

“I was blinded by your beauty.”

God. Sometimes Tim wonders about the original Titans and their socialization for the two dudes if this is how they think making friends works. Then again, Kori, Donna, and Dick probably appreciated constant compliments about their beauty. It all makes sense. Roy must be so used to it that he even uses those same methods when someone unexceptional like Tim is around.

He smiles gamely. “I’m looking forward to hearing that phone call. Must be almost as great as the time Bruce tried to convince his insurance company that Clark dropping on his car wasn’t an act of God because God is demonstrably not a Kryptonian. Neither was the giant ape punching Clark out.”

Roy drops his hand at that. “…Batman did what?”

—

(“You were doing so well, too.”

“I knoooow. How much more obvious can we get?”

“I dunno, but I intend to try.”)

—

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!”

“Haha. No. Star Trek or die.” Tim’s answer is automatic. He’s had these discussions soooo many times with Kon before. Of course Jason also goes for the space cowboy soap opera.

Besides, Jason’s boyfriend is standing right next to him. He doesn’t mean to sound flirtatious with Tim. Or maybe he does, and it’s just good fun? Or maybe teasing him? Tim can’t figure it out, but he knows he doesn’t like the weird hollow feeling he gets in his stomach when he thinks about it, so he changes the topic.

And makes both of them sit down to watch some classic Captain Kirk, of course.

—

(“Should I be insulted by that pick up line?”

“Nah. There aren’t that many lines that imply a polycule, though.”

A kiss. “Alright.”)

—

One of the things Jason and Tim have in common is their predilection for motorbikes and fiddling around with them. Not that makes them unique in the batclan; Tim has never spent days quietly working side-by-side with Dick, though, the way he does with Jason. They started out with separate projects. Then Jason saw this vintage Ducati at an abandoned warehouse he was about to blow up and, well… Would be a shame, right? Tim just happens to have had one of these before—regrettably lost to one of Harley’s exploding baseball bats—so he offers his expertise.

It’s not because it means bending over the engine with Jason, closer than they ever are, their hands brushing when they hand each other instruments. It’s not.

Roy doesn’t join them. He’s too polite to say so, but he finds normal cars and bikes boring af. Doesn’t stop him from popping his head into the garage and whistling when he sees that they are shirtless and covered in grease. It’s a damn good look on Jason, so Tim can’t fault him for that.

Roy follows it up with a: “Are you a parking ticket? Cause you got fine written all over you.”

Tim can’t help it; he blushes at the suggestive tone. Those two never stop flirting with each other, do they? So far, he has managed to avoid stumbling over them while they’re making out (not that they’re making that easy—the kitchen? Really?), and he’d like to keep avoiding that, thank you very much. He’s already feeling guilty enough for his fantasies as it is.

“Uh. I should clean up,” he mumbles and flees.

—

(“Dammit.”

“…do you think that was a rejection?”

“Nah. He was definitely checking me out before you came and fucked it up.”

“That’s saying something if you noticed it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”)

—

So Tim has magically acquired cat ears and a very fluffy tail. Don’t ask. They’re gonna go away in eight hours, and until then, he’s gonna stay in the cave and work himself to distraction. Jason seems intent on keeping him company, though.

(It’s nice. Tim loves hanging out with Jason—that’s not the problem. The issue is that Tim is looking ridiculous, and Jason is being nice about it, and none of this is helping his stupid crush go away.)

They’re absently chatting about nothing until Jason says: “Kinda a pity you’re a cat, though.”

Tim looks up. Huh? Admittedly, he never pegged Jason as the type to go for catboys (though maybe… he did hang out with Kyle… perhaps it’s just that he definitely doesn’t go for Tims), but that’s still a weird pronouncement.

Jason is grinning. “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.” He pauses. “Wait. Like even more than you already are. Uh.”

Tim sighs. Great. And now Jason is making fun of him again. “Whatever.”

—

(“A chicken?”

“Shut up. I panicked.” A sigh. “He was so cute with these ears.”

“…yeah, he was.”)

—

“You must be tired. You’ve been running through my mind all night.”

“I’m not tired,” Tim says automatically. Why does everyone keep asking him that tonight? Surely the shadows under his eyes can’t be that bad? He used concealer!

Something in Roy’s expression softens. “Aww. C’mere.” He pats the space on the couch next to him, and when Tim sits down, Roy pulls him half of on top of him and into a hug. “Relax for a bit, little bird.”

Tim sinks into the embrace, boneless all of a sudden. Roy just has that effect on him. Tim vaguely remembers thinking of him as his oldest brother’s cool friend and then Jason’s cool boyfriend, kind of a fuckboy but clearly good for Jay.

Now? Now, Roy just makes him feel safe.

—

(“So you spent the night on the couch just so he could sleep in your arms?”

“Yeah. Totally worth it.”

“Duh.”

“I just wish we could do that with him every night. Bet he fits perfectly between us.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“We might have to up the ante or switch tactics.”)

—

They’re talking about their favorite books—Tim doesn’t read as much as Jason does, but they discovered a shared love of sci-fi weeks ago—when Tim says: “Actually, that book kinda reminds me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Overly dramatic but good.”

Jason makes an offended noise, and Tim grins.

“I’m not sure which part I should argue about first.” Jason pretends to think.

Tim is always down to tell Jason that fuck his self-perception—Jason is a good man, one of the best Tim knows; that also feels too revealing right now. Instead, he gets up from their comfortable position on the couch and grabs the first stack on the table, carrying them over to the shelves to replace the gaps. “What kind of book would I be?”

“Babe, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

“Annoying and no one reads it?” Tim asks without turning around, trying to ignore the babe. That’s. That’s gotta be a slip of the tongue, right? Force of habit from spending so much time with Roy?

“No, fine,” and the emphasis is clear this time. Jason continues before Tim can reply: “Though if we’re talking books…”

Tim whirls around. “Save it. You don’t have to make fun of me just because I—“He swallows down the words.

Jason looks alarmed. “Tim—“

As if he can smell trouble, Roy chooses that moment to enter the room. Tim has barely heard him approach, Jesus. He doesn’t want to have this argument in front of Roy, though, so he just stands there in the middle of the room. Jason, too, has stopped speaking.

Roy, of course, takes one look at the awkwardness and decides to make it worse. Or more confusing.

“Did you just come out of the oven?” he asks.

“As this isn’t Hansel and Gretel, no, I didn’t.” Tim checks his shirt, just in case this is an actual conversation opener and not just a weird attempt at a distraction. “Do I have soot on me?”

“Nope.” Roy shakes his head, and he’s smiling that smile again, the one Tim is startled to recognize, the one he thought is reserved only for Jason— “Because you’re hot.”

And finally, Tim gets it. “Me?”

“Yes, Tim.” Roy’s moving in closer. “You.”

There’s a soft touch to Tim’s shoulder, and Tim whirls around, expecting Jason to be mad, cause his boyfriend is—is hitting on Tim, right, that’s what’s happening, Jason can’t be happy—

Jason is smiling down at him. His hand is still resting on Tim’s shoulder, but it slides down to his collar bone, a gentle presence as he murmurs: “You’re so beautiful that you made forget my pick up line.”

Oh. Oh.

Tim says the first thing he can think of: “Are you a raisin?”

Jason starts grinning. “I’m not even gonna qualify that with an answer.”

Tim smiles back. “Cause you’re raising my hopes for a kiss right about now.”

And he gets one. And then another, and then Roy joins in, kissing Tim’s neck and then his mouth and—Yeah.

They’re too busy for any more pick up lines right now.

#elareine writes #jayroytim

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fakecrfan · 3 years

Text

POV: You wake up in the TMA universe at the start of season 1.

You find yourself on the streets of London, cold and confused.

You try to figure out what happened and get home. You discover the place you lived no longer exists. The place you worked no longer exists.

You try to call the numbers of family, friends, anyone you knew. Baffled voices that you don’t recognize answer you, and then hang up.

As you're wandering around the streets getting increasingly terrified, you pass by the Magnus Institute. Then, everything makes sense.

You hurry in and blurt out: "I would like to make a statement"

Rosie smiles politely.

“Alright, let’s get you the proper forms then.”

She tells you that the Archivist, Jonathan Sims, will see you in a moment. As you are waiting for him, you recall what happens to people who give statements to Jonathan Sims. Unceasing bad dreams. Unrelenting panic attacks. Enough that Jess Tyrell stopped being able to go out in public.

"Ah," you think. "I will not do that then."

You leave in a hurry. Outside, you realize:

oh, I'm the only one who can stop the apocalypse now, aren't i

You shiver. That thought can wait, you think. For now you need to find... somewhere to stay. You are effectively homeless. No, not effectively. You are straight up homeless.

You pull out your wallet to pay for food. Your card is declined. You try to use cash, only to be told it’s counterfeit. Everything is just a little too much to the left of your reality for you to navigate.

Finally you find social services of some kind. They ask for your information, including your NIN. you aren't surprised when they say the info they have on file for that number is.... not you. You are disappointed though.

They help you to a homeless shelter. You sit on your cot and cry self-pityingly for a bit, and then that pressure comes back to your mind:

The world is going to end. You know the world is going to end. You're the only one who can do anything about it.

You turn over and decide that's something you can deal with in the morning.

----

The next day, you think about it again.

"That's something I can deal with when I have an apartment," is what you think then.

So that becomes your next project. Finding your footing as a displaced person. Social services helps but it's... sporadic. It takes months for you to get more stable housing.

When you lie down on the couch of the new, well, new associate you've made, you once again remember that the world is going to end. That you are the only one who can do anything about it.

"I'll think about that when I get a job"

-----

Time continues to pass. As you are trying to get on your feet, you make feeble attempts to... start something.

You go to the Magnus Institute a few times. But it's hard. You've always had terrible social anxiety,. And everyone there seems so cold. You can feel eyes on your back: staring, watching your every move. Normally that alone is enough to make you quit for the day.

A lot of times, the main cast you remember is out doing research. When they are there, you are about to walk up and speak to them when the anxiety hits you again.

What if Elias sees you talking to them? What if he kills you?

You decide to retreat for a little while, then. Just to think of a better plan.

You spend the next month getting your first job in this new world. You start a timeline of when you think the apocalypse is going to happen, but remembering the canon dates is hard. It's not a very helpful timeline, and so you give it up.

Eventually you think the best thing to do is to wait until Elias has been arrested and then talk to the others. When Elias is in prison, he can't murder you for revealing your plans.

This means Sasha and Tim will die. But--they might have died anyway, even with your intervention. Who’s to say? Anyway, you’re not the one who will kill them. It’s not your fault.

You scan the news every day for things about the Magnus Institute, particularly the head of it getting arrested.

During this time, you do a little better. You have a nice apartment now, you think. Nice by your own standards, at least. You decorate the place a little. Get some video games that you like--or well, they aren't the same ones as in your world, but close enough you think?

Months pass.

One day it hits you that maybe the papers would never actually report on Elias being arrested.

Oh shit, you think.

You go back to the Magnus Institute then. By this point, Rosie recognizes you. She grants you the same expression one grants a wayward alley cat. You ask who the current head is. You are told "Peter Lukas."

Shit.

"Can I make a statement?"

Rosie looks nervous. "Um, the Archivist is on medical leave."

"Okay can I talk to one of his assistants?"

Rosie gets this very tired look in her eyes.

"I'll... ask."

Rosie phones the archives extension

it rings

"They've all really been through it recently," Rosie tells you. "They don't--like to talk to anyone else, now."

"I have to talk to them," you say. "Um, can you--can you tell Martin Blackwood specifically that I need to talk to him? That it's about Jon?"

Martin is--you like Martin. Martin will be nice and safe. He'll be easier to talk to than Melanie at this point, or Basira. Still, Rosie looks tired again.

"I'll have a chat with him," Rosie says. "How about you go home for now, and I'll call you when I've talked to him."

"But--"

You're bad at this. You were always bad at this. You can barely sign up for anything on your own. Your mother has done so many calls and filled out so many forms for you.

You never cultivated the skill of standing in a lobby and insisting to talk to someone. Maybe you'll just irritate Rosie and she'll blacklist you if you dig in your heels now. Anyway, you're already so tired from this. You think about going home, and playing some Medal of Honour IV.

"Fine," you say.

You go home. You play the game. You sleep.

You're not giving up, you say to yourself. You're just--biding your time.

Rosie does not call you.

It pains you, but you realize you have to go back in and ask to speak to someone again. You'll go today after work, you decide.

No, wait, you're too tired from work today. You'll go tomorrow.

Maybe on the weekend.

----

You finally go back

Rosie tells you she just--hasn't been able to get a hold of Martin.

"Fine," you say. "Any of the other assistants."

Rosie actually looks a bit worried for you. "Um, they're not--they don't take well to unexpected visitors. Let me wait and chat them up about it."

You do not listen this time.

You march down into the basement level where the archives are. The door is--well. Shit. It's barricaded? You knock. You keep knocking.

"Melanie! Basira!" you say. "I have to talk!"

The door opens too quickly. You barely get a glimpse of Melanie's snarl before she strikes and your vision goes white.

She hits you a few times. No knives, just fists. You hear Basira in the backround, barking for Melanie to stand down. Once there is an opening and you can blearily see again, you run away in terror.

It's not--you didn't intend to run. You were just afraid.

----

You go home, and realize that Melanie didn't even really hit you in a super serious way. Nothing that would warrant a hospital trip, at least. Nothing that has left you with a lot of pain, outside of the immediate terror of physical violence.

You probably could have stuck it out there. You should have.

You think about all the months--no, years now--that have passed without you making any progress.

"But that’s not my fault,” you say.

"I was having a really hard time. I was homeless. I've been struggling with my mental health. I still have to keep the rent paid and feed myself."

"It's not my fault. It's not."

"I will do something. Just--I need some more time."

You sleep.

You decide to wait a bit for your bruises to heal up before going back.

When you do drag yourself back to the Institute, now there is a PTSD reaction to going into the Institute on top of the social anxiety.

You leave quickly. Rosie looks so sad for you.

You do try to go back. You do try to get back in contact with the Archives, or go back when Jon is back up. But there's always something. Not something directly stopping you. Just--

Tiredness. Work. Illness. Doctor's appointments. Panic attacks. The Archives staff being unreachable.

The world is going to end. You're the only one who can stop it.

"That's not true though," you think. "I mean, technically anyone could. I just have a little more information that could help."

"It's never one person's fault," you tell yourself as you crawl into bed after another flight of anxiety struck you as you were about to cross the street to the Institute. "It's everything. It's--a whole system. It's Jonah's fault really. If I don't--I'm not to blame."

“I’m not to blame.”

----

You are playing Medal of Honour V when your phone lights up with a notification that there was an outburst of violence at a place known as the Magnus Institute, and billionaire Peter Lukas has disappeared in the confusion.

You should get up. It’s going to happen, and happen soon. You hand twitches on the controller.

You remember a quote you saw before you ended up here, on Facebook of all things.

"Don't wonder what you'd be doing in Nazi Germany. Whatever you're doing now, is what you would have been doing then."

Because bad things were happening in the world all the time, your preachy Facebook aunt said. There is always genocide, and famine, and war. It’s not some movie fantasy from the past.

You think about that. About the horrors in your world. Those movements that you retweeted support for and occasionally donated $5 to. The protests you awkwardly passed by on your way to work.

You quietly realize what kind of person you are. What you would have been doing in Nazi Germany, or the civil rights era in the U.S., or during the catastrophes in your own world, or right now.

It's what you were always going to do.

And so you get back to Medal of Honour V.

----

You're still dreading the apocalypse of course. It won’t be easy. It will be around six months to a year of full on torture, specifically designed to be the worst you have ever felt. Something about that soothes you. Something about knowing you are a victim too, or maybe knowing that you’ll be punished.

But--it will end, and then you'll be alright. Everything will return to normal, and you can go back to your apartment and your job and your games. It’s not all that bad.

You feel a twinge of guilt for Martin and Jon, who you could ave intervened for. You feel more than a twinge for the worlds the Entities will infect after. But--maybe it will all work out okay. Maybe the universe is a kind place. Maybe other worlds will be able to handle the fears better.

Who knows! There is always hope!

----

[When the sky turns red and the great Eye opens, when you start to hear the howls of your apartment neighbors through the wall--

Nothing happens to you. You are fine. It does not touch you.

Oh.]

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #self insert #reader insert #my writing

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electronicgrowth · 3 years

Text

Can’t Get Enough Part 8

The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other?

A/N: So, this is a long one. If I’m honest, I’ve lost a lot of my vigor for this story. I still have quite a bit of story written, so maybe I’ll find the inspiration again. But if I’m totally honest.... I’m wildly depressed. Like barely functioning. I’m going to keep posting what I already have written, but I’m not sure if I’ll finish what I had initially planned out.

That day started like any other for Lee Bodecker. He awoke with a headache. A consequence of drinking too much the night before. He peeled himself out of his bed, before stumbling to the bathroom for a shower. He was disappointed. Nearly a week since John passed and Billie had yet to show her face. Maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she really had cut off all contact with her family. Maybe she even found a new guy and had already given him a whole bunch of babies.

The last thought made Lee feel nauseous. And not in the hangover kind of way.

After the shower, Lee shaved. He may feel like a mess but he couldn’t show it. Then he proceeded to pick up the beer bottles from the counter and dispose of them. He liked the house clean when he got home. Even if he just proceeded to make the same mess all over again.

He made his way to work. Nobody at the station greeted him. It was a well-known fact that Sheriff Bodecker was not a morning person. Lee was able to enjoy two cups of coffee while he did some paperwork. The morning passed without incident. Miss Edna, the receptionist came in at exactly noon with more paperwork for Lee, a fresh cup of coffee and a sandwich. She’d worked at the station for 30 years. And no matter who the sheriff was, she always made him a sandwich for lunch. Edna was the glue that kept the station running. No one dared talk back to her, not even Lee.

After lunch, Tim Mitchell rushed into Lee’s office. Not even stopping at his desk.

“You alright, Mitchell?” Lee asked the deputy.

“Yes sir,” he responded, “Thought you’d wanna know I dropped Sylvie and the baby off at her mama’s house this morning.”

“Why would I need to know that?” Lee hissed.

“Joy had a vistor. One I think you would be very interested in seeing.”

“Billie?” Could it be? Lee didn’t dare let himself hope.

“Yes, but I think the person with her might be of more interest to you.”

A husband? A boyfriend?

“Just spit it out,” Lee groaned in annoyance.

“Billie had a little girl with her,” Tim answered, “She’s probably about four. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Lee was shocked. So, that letter Billie had sent him about losing the baby wasn’t true after all. A four-year-old. She had to be Lee’s. That meant that Lee was a father. Of a child. Not a baby. He was utterly gobsmacked.

“Thank you, Mitchell,” he dismissed. Mitchell nodded before exiting the office. Lee took a moment, not to collect his thoughts, no. A moment to collect his jacket and run out the door to tell the undersheriff that he was leaving and not to disturb him. Lee sped to the Dechswaan farm. He broke every traffic law. It was a good thing that he was sheriff.

He practically ran from his car to the door. Lee proceeded to pound on the door with his fist four times. Not caring if he was rude. He was here for something that belonged to him.

She opened the door as Lee resumed his pounding. He looked shocked that she’d open the door. Almost like he didn’t believe she was really here. He was dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. He’d gained a bit of weight since she last saw him, he was still handsome though. And Lee surveyed how much curvier Billie was too. She really looked like a woman.

“Let’s go for a walk, Lee,” she said before he could speak. She closed the door and walked down the porch. She marched through the yard, arms crossed. He followed silently, he was fuming. And yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she swayed as she walked. Lee let her lead him all the way to the barn before saying anything.

“Okay, talk,” he commanded.

“What do you want me to say?” Billie asked, turning to him but keeping her distance from him.

“Tim said you had a little girl with ya,” Lee accused.

“I do. My daughter.”

“How old is she?”

“Four.”

Lee nodded and tenses his jaw, “So, she’s mine then?”

“Yeah,” Billie conceded, no emotion on her beautiful face.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? You said you miscarried,” Lee muttered, feeling betrayed.

“Because you are a steamroller. And heaven help anyone who gets in your way, Lee. I wasn’t about to let you take away all my options. I owed it to myself to try my hand in New York.” Her face was scrunching up in angry.

“And you owed it to me to tell me about my kid!”

“You think I don’t know that? I regret it everyday, but I can’t take back the past now!” She shouted.

“That’s it? That’s all you regret?” Lee countered, stepping closer to her.

“Of course not,” Billie scoffs, rolling her eyes and turning away from Lee. But he was quick to grab her, pull her back towards him.

“What then? What do you regret,” he growls, his face just inches from hers. Her eyes flicked down to his lips. She swayed closer. Lee thought, for just a moment, that she might try to kiss him. But she regained her composure and met his eyes once again.

“Alright, you listen here Lee Bodecker. I’m only gonna say this once,” she begins quietly, “I was wrong. And you were right. I should never have left. And I’m sorry.”

“Oh, sugar,” Lee laughs bitterly, releasing his grip on her arm, “I’m definitely gonna make you say that all again.”

Billie crosses her arms, and smirks at him.

“I knew you’d say that,” she says, “Good thing I’m prepared to beg.” He’s shocked at her tone, she’s toying with him. She knows just what buttons to push to get him right where she wants him. He knows he’ll be putty in her hands soon enough, he’ll give her anything she asks for. But she deserves a little punishment for all the years he was forced to live without her.

“And why was it a mistake, sugar?” He coaxes.

“There are a lot of reasons it was a mistake,” she counters, looking at her hands, picking at her cuticles.

“Tell me,” Lee demands.

“Well, no one in New York wants some hick with an accent teaching their kids. I got a useless degree. And I surely know how to pick my men. The first boy I ever went on a date with tried to rape me months later with his buddies. You got me pregnant on purpose. And the one I dated to try and forget you used me as his personal punching bag.”

“He hit you?”

“It’s been awful, Lee. I-I can’t do anything right. I always think I’m making the right decision, but it’s always the wrong one. And if you want me to say it then I will. I’m at rock bottom. And I shouldn’t have left you,” she murmurs.

“Why?” Lee challenges.

“You know why.”

“No, tell me.”

“The biggest mistake was thinking I could stay away from you. But don’t think for one minute that it’s because I need you.”

“Then why can’t you stay away if you don’t need me,” Lee narrows his eyes.

“B-because I love you,” she mutters the sentence so quietly Lee almost couldn’t hear her.

“You love me?” He smirks.

“Yeah,” she shakes her head.

“Alright darlin’. I’m gonna tell you how this will go.”

“Alright.”

“We’re going to the courthouse tonight and making this official. I don’t care if I have to haul the judge in myself. When people ask, we’ll say we reconnected recently and decided to keep it small given the circumstances.”

“Just like I said, you’re a steamroller,” Billie chuckled, “You think you have all the power. But I know what you’ve been doing here.”

“Oh yeah,” Lee challenged, “What have I been doing?”

“I heard all about Sandy and Carl, and you killing Leroy Brown and you taking bribes,” Billie spat.

“Well, we’ve both made mistakes. I’ve only done what I’ve done for you. To provide for you. I take those bribes because it makes me more money,” Lee yelled.

“And you got yourself in some hot water in the process. I heard you even fucking got shot. Do you know what that was like for me? I nearly came home when I heard that, I thought you were going to die. You need to be more careful Lee,” Billie shot back.

Billie realized that she had Lee right where she wanted him. He was her ticket away from Larry. He was more than capable of protecting her from that bastard. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want him. Billie walked forward to Lee and pushed him up against the side of the barn. She looked up at him with her big doe eyes.

“Do you love me, Lee?” She asked, pressing her body against his.

“Do you love me?” He countered, suspicious of her.

“I do. I really love you,” she whispered, her hands rubbing down his chest and stomach until she cupped his cock through his pants, “So, let me tell you how this is gonna go. We’ll go to the courthouse when I’m ready. You’re not going to punish me for leaving even though I know you really want to.” She undoes his belt and pants, her hand slips into his underwear and she grips his cock, slowly jacking him off. His head lolls back to hit the barn wall. “You are going to be more careful going forward. No fights that involve guns. You are not getting shot again. Because you’re gonna have a wife and a baby that need you.” Lee groans, eyes shut, enjoying her hands on him for the first time in five years. “I’ll let you fuck me raw. Let you get me pregnant again. I’ll give you all the babies you want. I bet you would like that wouldn’t you, honey?” Lee nods pathetically. Her hand is moving up and down his length at a brutal pace, Lee jerks his hips, chasing the pleasure. “But you have to protect me. And you’re going to give me anything I want.” Billie leans up and licks Lee’s neck. “You’ll give me a nice house and pretty dresses. And I’ll just be at home all day, dripping for you. Waiting for you to come home and fuck me so good. Keep me full of you. Don’t you wanna be inside me, Lee?” Lee groans loudly. Billie sucks a hickey into Lee’s neck, and forces his lips down to meet hers. “I’m gonna help you become mayor one day, so just tell me you love me. And I can make all that happen for ya.”

“Shit, baby. I love you so fucking much,” Lee grunts, his arms locking Billie against him, “Don’t leave me again.”

“I promise I won’t,” she gasped, as she started to get down on her knees, but Lee grabbed her elbow and kept her upright. He grabbed her and slammed her against the barn. He caged her in and caught her lips. He holds onto her waist like he may never let her go. Her tongue is everywhere. It’s becomes clear to Lee that Billie is just as desperate for him as he is for her. Billie pulls away, panting for air and stares into Lee’s eyes. All he can see is how much she loves him, and he wonders if she sees the same thing in his eyes. He bends down to pick her up, her legs wrap around him. With one arm he holds her up, with the other he moves her panties to the side and grips his cock, preparing to plunge inside her. He rubs his length against her slit for a moment. Then rapidly shoves himself inside. He’s brutally fucking into her and she’s a mess. Desperate for anything he’ll give her.

“Lee,” she whined. He smirked.

“You like that baby?” he teased. She nodded.

“You feel so good,” she cried, her head lolled back to hit the wall of the barn. Lee can see in her eyes that she’s totally lost in pleasure. Her eyes are unfocused and glazed over. He continues to pummel in and out of her.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He growled into her neck.

“He never fucked me,” she moaned, “I wouldn’t let him.”

“Why?” He teased.

“B-because….”

“Because why?” He was just being cruel trying to get coherent answers at of her at this moment.

“Because I only ever wanted you.” If there was one sentence that ever made Lee’s cock so hard and warmed his heart so much it was that sentence.

“Honey,” he murmured forcing her to pay attention to him, slowing his thrusts, “tell me that you love me.”

“I love you so much, Lee,” she sobbed.

“You gonna cum, honey?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Play with your clit,” he demands. Billie is quick to comply. Her fingers skate down between them to find her clit and she rubs circles against herself. Lee speeds up again.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want your cum, Lee. Please give it to me.” Lee wasn’t about to leave his girl hanging, as soon as she begins to tighten around him, he lets himself go. He comes inside her with a grunt of her name. She’s quick to follow, letting out a high pitched shriek.

He pants against her lips, before taking out a handkerchief from his back pocket. He wipes off his cock and cleans between her legs and shoves the handkerchief into his back pocket. Billie leaned up against the side of the barn, desperately trying to catch her breath.

“You want to meet your daughter?” Billie asked, as Lee tucked himself back into his pants.

“Really?” Lee looked shocked at the offer.

“Yeah, of course,” Billie scoffed.

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“She will. She likes most people,” Billie promised.

“Most people?” He questioned.

“She only ever dislikes people that give her a reason,” Billie answered. She grabbed Lee’s hand and pulled him back to the house. His thumb dragged across her knuckles. He didn’t know if he’d ever let go of her hand.

“Just grab a seat,” Billie said, gesturing towards the couch in the living room, “She’s just napping.” Billie sat down next to Lee. She kicked her shoes off, and draped her legs across his lap.

“So, what’s it like to be sheriff?” she smirked, the way her eyes lit up was the same as when she was eighteen. When she used to tease him in the front seat of his car.

“It’d be better if I had less idiot deputies,” Lee chuckles.

“Well, you better get on that Sheriff,” Billie teased, “But you like it?”

“I do. It’s nice to be in charge,” Lee responded. Billie hummed. She knew that he liked to be in charge.

“Sheriff Bodecker,” Joy sighed, as she entered the front sitting room, “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. How are you holding up, Joy?” Lee asked. He allowed concern to flash across his face. Even though he knew of his role in her grief.

“Much better now that my Billie is home,” she answered, petting Billie’s hair.

“I feel the same way,” Lee smiled dreamily.

“You gonna make an honest woman outta my daughter then?” Joy joked.

“I think I will,” Lee laughed.

“Good, good. We could use the happiness of a wedding around here. Or more babies,” Joy beamed as she went back to the kitchen.

Lee smirked down at Billie after the baby comment from her mother. Billie toyed with Lee’s hands, avoiding his gaze, and intense blush colored her cheeks, despite the fact that Lee had been balls deep inside her ten minutes ago, coaxing her to promise him more babies.

“Mama,” called a small voice.

“I’m right here, baby,” Billie answered getting up from the couch and going to the stairs. Beth took each step down slowly. Her hair and dress were rumpled. When Beth reached Billie, she attempted to smooth her daughters hair and clothes.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Billie cooed. Picking her daughter up. Billie went back to the couch and sat down with Beth in her lap.

“Lee, this is Beth,” Billie said. Lee smiles down at the little girl. Beth decides to take the opportunity to lean as far forward as she can to see Lee. He’s surprised that she’s not shy. He’s a stranger after all. She reaches out to touch his badge. Seemingly intrigued by the star-like plaque.

“Are you a policeman?” She asks him.

“Yeah, I’m a sheriff,” he tells her.

“What’s that?” She asks.

“That means he’s in charge of all the other policemen around here. Uncle Tim is a policeman and this is his boss,” Billie says patiently.

“Do you catch the bad guys?” Beth quizzes, looking up from his badge to his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Lee chuckles. Beth wriggles out of Billie’s lap and closes the very small distance between her and Lee. She climbs onto his lap and continues to play with the edges of his badge.

“I have a bad guy for you to get,” she tried to whisper, it comes out less quiet and more like a stage whisper.

“Sure thing, peanut,” he said affectionately. He’s expecting her to tell him about the monster under her bed. Or a criminal in a story.

“It’s mama’s boyfriend. He’s mean and he hurts her,” the little girl told him. Lee attempted to keep his features schooled. He doesn’t want to scare the little girl. For a moment he considers hunting down the bastard and strangling him with his bare hands. He wants to make him suffer, and be the reason that asshole would never see the light of day again. But he needs to take care of the little girl in his arms for the moment.

“Well, I want nothing more than to keep your mama safe,” he placates the small child. He looks at Billie and she looks guilty.

“Baby,” Billie scolds, “You know that we’re here because mama isn’t with Mr. Larry anymore, because he’s a bad man. We’re moving back where all of our family is.” Beth slowly nods, but continues to play with Lee’s badge, small fingers skating over the edges.

“Beth,” he says as he directs his attention back to the little girl on his lap, “do you want to color?” Beth looked up excitedly at Lee. She hurried Billie out to the car to get her favorite coloring books. Billie, Lee and Beth sit at the mismatched dining room table and color together. Beth talks Lee’s ear off. She spends that time telling him everything about herself. Her favorite book, her favorite animal, her favorite color, all the information she deems the most important. Lee just soaks in everything she tells him. He’s ecstatic to be learning about his daughter.

That evening, Billie digs out her old apron. She and Sylvie make dinner while Lee and Joy occupy Beth and Rose. After having dinner and cleaning the kitchen Beth looks almost dead on her feet. But she returned to the table with after dinner coffee. She sat down next to Lee. He was quick to rest his hand on her thigh.

“You look exhausted, honey,” he observed.

“I am,” she sighed, “I should probably get Bethie ready for bed.”

Upon hearing this Beth shrieks, “Noooo. I want to stay up and keep coloring with him!” Crocodile tears began welling up in Beth’s eyes.

“Baby it’s okay,” Billie tried to placate. But Beth was not having it, she looked like she was about to start wailing. Lee stood up and picked Beth up from her chair and then sat right back down with Beth in his lap, she was far more content there.

“Beth,” he began, hesitantly, “How do you feel about you and mama living with me? And me being your daddy?”

Beth’s tears dry up quickly and her eyes light up, “Really?” She asks excitedly, “Can we mama?” Lee catches Billie in a dreamy daze. He only ever saw that look every once in a while.

“Of course, sweetpea,” she smiles.

“Can we go now?” Beth begs.

“We probably should be getting this one home,” Lee said, petting Beth’s hair soothingly.

“Home?” Billie questioned.

“What? You thought that I wouldn’t have you two come home with me tonight?” Lee chuckled.

“Isn’t that inappropriate for the sheriff to let an unmarried woman stay at his house?”

“I was just re-elected. So, I’m not too worried about what people say. As someone in law enforcement, only I can speak to where is safe for a young woman to stay at night.”

“Alright,” she says, amused, “You still live in the same place?”

“I do.”

“I’ll drive my car over there then,” she smiles, standing from her seat, “Beth, it’s time to go. Hug Grandma goodbye.” Beth slowly gets up and hugs Joy. Billie kisses her sister and mother on the cheek.

“Do you need anything before Wednesday, mom?” She asked Joy quietly.

“No, the funeral home did want us to come early. They said 2:00, I believe,” Joy sighed.

“Alright, well if you think of anything just call me at Lee’s, okay?” Billie commanded.

“I will, honey,” Joy promised. Beth is standing close to her mom, while Lee waits for them at the door.

“Mama, up,” Beth demands making grabby hands.

“Baby, you’re getting too big for mama to carry,” Billie tries to reason. Beth’s bottom lip quivers and Lee can see that she’s about to cry again.

“Beth, why don’t you let daddy carry you,” he offers. Beth beams up at him, rushing over so he can pick her up. Billie mouths “Thank you” to him. Lee grabbed Billie’s hand and led her out of the house with his daughter in his arms. He’s on top of the world.

Billie follows Lee to his house. He lives in a simple ranch style house. It looks the same as the last time Billie saw it. Lee always said that this was just a first home. That he wanted to live there until he’d had a couple of kids. Then when the third baby was on its way, he would buy a bigger house.

Lee is quick to help Billie with the bags. She doesn’t have many. And she’d sold her furniture to a young couple down the hall. They enter into the living room and it’s just the same. Same furniture, just a little more worn down. Lee locked the door and led them towards the bedrooms. He set the suitcases down in the hall, between the master room and one of the spare rooms. Lee had furnished both the spare rooms with items he’d inherited when his mother died.

“Beth can sleep in this room,” he said pointing to the room next door to the master, “I’ve got some sheets for that bed in the closet. I don’t keep them on the bed unless I have company.” Billie nodded.

“It’s getting close to her bedtime. Do you mind getting her bed ready, while I give her a bath?” She asks, gesturing towards Beth, who is tiredly leaning against the doorway.

“Of course,” Lee says eagerly. Billie takes one case and begins digging through it. He can see that it’s Beth’s clothes. Billie is quick to find a small little night dress for Beth, before picking up another bag and finding Beth’s shampoo and toothbrush. She leads Beth to the bathroom where she fills the tub and starts directing Beth into the tub. Lee smiles to himself at how right this feels.

After her bath, Beth demands a bedtime story. Billie sits in the rocking chair in the corner, Beth in her lap, gently rocking as she reads the story. Lee watches from the doorway. He’s not paying attention to what she’s saying. He’s enthralled by how maternal she looks. She looks like she was made to be a mother. She happily makes a new voice for each character, Beth fights to keep her eyes open. She, too, is captivated by her mother. But the exhaustion of the day wins, and her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. Billie carefully tucks Beth in with a gentle kiss of her forehead. She turns to Lee, shooing him from the room. She quietly closes the bedroom door.

Lee stares at Billie. Her baby blue dress brings out the blue in her eyes. Her hair is starting to fall from its perfect style. She looks as beautiful as always, but Lee knows her well enough to see that she’s completely exhausted.

“Let’s wash up and get to bed,” he coaxed. She nodded in agreement. Lee went to the bathroom first, quickly splashing water onto his face and washing up. Billie went next. She removed her makeup and brushed out her hair. She hated the way she looked without makeup. She knew she wasn’t nearly as pretty. But she also knew it was just better for her to take it off. She changed into a nightie, as well, before she exited the bathroom and went back to the bedroom. Lee was already in bed, and Billie was quick to crawl in next to him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him.

“I have something for you,” he hummed.

“Lee, I swear to God if you pull out your cock—“ Billie threatened. Lee laughed heartily and as quietly as he could with Beth in the next room.

“No, something else that I think you’ll like,” he smirked. Billie rolled her eyes playfully and shook her head. Lee got out of bed and went to the closet. Billie could see that he was looking for something. She saw him pull a shoebox from the top shelf, he quickly took what he needed from the box and put it back where he had found it. Whatever it was that he got from the box, he hid it behind his back. His eyes glinted mischievously as he approached the bed.

“So, I got this for you a while ago. And I kept it because I always hoped you would come back and I could give it to you,” Lee murmured as he kneeled down next to the bed. Finally, he revealed a small box. Billie had a feeling she knew what this was.

He opened the box, and revealed a beautiful ring. It was set on a thick gold band. In the center was a diamond that sparkled impossibly, an asscher cut. It wasn’t as large as the diamonds all the women in Hollywood got, but it was far larger than anything in this region of Ohio.

“Lee,” Billie gasped, “How long have you had this?”

“I got it a couple of weeks before you told me that you were pregnant,” he answered, smiling bashfully.

“I can’t let you give me this. It’s so extravagant,” she protested.

“Sugar, I’ve been dying to give you this ring for five years. So, marry me, let me give you this ring, and make me the happiest man alive,” Lee smiled, “Please.”

“Of course,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Lee slid the ring up her finger. It fit perfectly. Lee got up from the floor and got back onto the bed. He crawled over Billie before kissing her deeply. When she cupped his cheek he could feel the extra weight of the ring. It spurred him on, his bit down on her bottom lip before kissing down to her neck. Her hands raked through his short hair. His fingers went to the apex of her thighs, he slid her panties to the side and plunged two fingers into her. He was shocked that she was already quite wet. He kissed her neck, as the room filled with obscene noise from her pussy.

“Lee, please. I need you inside me,” she begged.

“I am inside you, baby,” he teased.

“Your cock. I need your cock,” she mewled, “I need to feel you inside me.” Lee wasn’t about to argue with a beautiful woman in his bed. He helped her out of her nightdress and underwear. She yanked on his boxers until he helped her get them off. He settled himself between her thighs. He lazily rubbed his cock over her slit, wetting his length. He pushed just the head of his cock in before removing it again. Billie pouted up at him.

“I think you may owe me a little something, darlin’,” he teased.

“Please, please,” she pled, clawing her fingers into his ass.

“Aww, look at my little baby. So desperate for my cock,” he mocked, he continued to rub himself against her pussy lips. “What would you do for my cock right now?”

“Lee,” she groaned. Billie was not interested in this game at the moment. Maybe a different night, but she just needed him to fuck her into the mattress. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“I wanna make another baby with you, right now,” Lee growled in her ear.

Seriously? That was all he wanted. From how he was playing it, she thought he might want anal.

“Well,” she began as she moved her hips up and down, forcing him to take more friction, “then you better get to work, daddy.” She whispered the last word directly into his ear, before licking the shell of it. That was all it took for Lee to push into her abruptly. He stilled and looked down at her.

“Tell me you want me to get you pregnant,” he demanded.

“I want you to get me pregnant,” she whimpered.

“What?” He goaded.

“I want you to get me pregnant, daddy.” Lee began pumping in and out of Billie brutally, hitting that sweet place inside her that made her gush all over him.

“Fuck, did you get tighter?” He groaned. His hands palmed her breasts. Lee was sure it wasn’t just the five years of separation, but he was enthralled by how beautiful she was. She was perfect. His hands couldn’t grip all of her breasts, her hips flared out in delicious curves. Her tummy was soft, softer than before, it was an aftereffect of having his baby, Lee was sure. Her thighs were thick, he couldn’t help but imagine those wrapped around his face as he fucked her with his tongue. But that was a task for another day, or maybe just later.

His hands skated down her figure to grabs her hips. He held onto her so tight, he knew it would leave bruises but he used his grip as leverage to fuck her harder. Her legs locked around him, as he thrust in so hard it pushed her farther up the bed, until her head hit the headboard. Billie threw one hand up to stop her head from slamming harder into the headboard, but that action just forced the headboard to slam into the wall.

“Lee,” she moaned, “We have to be quiet.” They had a little one to worry about now. Lee slowed, but the headboard kept hitting the wall. He pulled out and stood next to the bed. Billie immediately pouted at the loss of him inside her.

“Come here,” he cooed. She crawled over to him and began to lay back before he stopped her.

“No, back to me, feet on the floor,” he commanded. She followed his directions and stood so her back was pressed to his front. He held her tightly to him. Kissing her neck, as one hand held her hip and the other ran over her belly.

“Can’t wait til you’re all swollen with me,” he hummed in her ear. He pushed her forward onto the bed, before pushing back inside her. Billie turned her face so she could moan into the bedspread. Lee used this new position to fuck her deeper. And as hard as he could. His hands held her hips tightly, and he bent over her, kissing her neck and back. She got wetter and wetter the more attention he paid to her back. That was something he’d never discovered and he loved it. He started sucking bruises between her shoulder blades and the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. Her juices were starting to trickle down her thighs.

“So wet,” he smirked, one hand curving around her body to rub her clit. Lee could feel her legs starting to shake.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” He teased. She nodded desperately, not able to speak. Her hands went to the bedspread and gripped it tightly. Lee kissed the back of her neck, and felt her clench a bit tighter around him. He laved his tongue over the same area, before sucking a bruise in the same section. Billie’s eyes rolled back and she came with a shout. It took all of Lee’s self control not to follow her. He slowed his thrusts as she came down. He pulled out, very pleased to see her dripping as he did.

He rolled Billie onto her back. He wanted to look at her when he came. He cupped her face, she was still in a daze, but she looked up at him dreamily. He pushed back into her, and she moaned, quietly.

“I love you,” she whimpered.

“I love you, baby,” he told her. Tears sprang to her eyes, as he rolled his hips slowly against her.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I wish I never left.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he reassured. She reached up to touch his face.

“You need to know, I missed you everyday. I regretted it everyday,” she sobbed, “I was so stupid. You are the only man I ever could’ve loved and I left you.” Lee stopped moving, but stayed inside her.

“Honey,” he said, “It’s okay. I promise. I’m never gonna stop loving you. Not even you leaving could change that. Just be with me now. We don’t have to worry about anything else but the future, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. He kissed her forehead.

“Do you want to stop? We can just go to sleep if you want.”

“No, I want to keep going.”

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, please,” she begged, “I want you to feel good.” She leaned up to kiss him. Her hands lightly scratched over his back, encouraging him to keep going. Lee hesitated but picked his movements back up, he was going slow. Slower than Billie wanted.

“Faster,” she commanded. Lee complied, slamming into her.

“Say my name,” he growled.

“Lee,” she breathed in a high pitch voice.

“Tell me what you want, honey,” he grunted.

“I want you. I want you to cum inside me,” she gasped.

“Are you mine?”

“Yes, yours. All yours.” Lee was pummeling into her now, chasing his orgasm.

“I love you, Lee,” she whimpered. And those words sent Lee careening over the edge of the cliff. His hips stuttered into her, as he came. Rope after rope of hot cum painted her walls. Billie fluttered around him. Lee panted above her, but leaned down to capture her mouth all the same. His tongue tangled with hers.

When they broke apart, Lee pulled out. Billie started to sit up, but Lee pushed her back down.

“Stay on your back,” he ordered, “I want it to take.”

“Honey, we have all the time in the world to try again,” she laughed. Lee didn’t care. He picked her up from the edge of the bed, and set her down, so she could lay against the pillows. He helped her get under the sheets before joining her. He thought about pushing inside her again so none of his cum could leak out. Billie turned onto her side so she could lay across his chest. He scowled at her for ignoring his directions.

“Don’t worry. I��ll let you fuck your cum back into me in the morning,” she sighed, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. Lee chuckled, and wrapped one arm around her. He was dragging his hand up and down her back when he felt it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was a bumpy spot on her back. It didn’t feel like the rest of her soft skin. He peered down and saw several dots. They were in clusters all over her back. He hadn’t noticed them before, he’d been too preoccupied.

“What are these?” He asked her. Billie stiffened. She was like a board in his arms.

“It’s nothing Lee. Let’s just get to sleep,” she hummed.

“Tell me,” Lee said sternly.

“Just… just don’t freak out, okay?” She murmured, pulling away to look at his face. “They’re healed cigarette burns. Larry was an angry drunk.” Lee felt a murderous rage race through his blood. He had half a mind to get dressed and go find that bastard that very instant. “Honey, please just stay calm.”

“Stay calm? How do you expect me to stay fucking calm?” Lee hissed through gritted teeth, trying to stay quiet for Beth’s sake.

“It’s okay. It’s over. I’m here and he’s back in New York,” she soothed.

“I could just kill him,” Lee growled.

“I’m okay,” she promised, “Let’s just go to sleep. Please.” Lee nodded begrudgingly. He pulled Billie back into him. She quickly fell asleep, but Lee was content to just hold Billie for a moment. Happy that after so long she was back in his arms.

@greeneyedblondie44 @bxnnywriting @kitty4860

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x ofc

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danny-chase · 3 years

Text

Dick Grayson Week Day 4

Prompt: Bruce hits Dick and doesn’t get away with it

Summary/Notes:

A Spyral fixit where the family finds out about Nightwing 30. Perspectives are from Tim and Jason, but Steph, Cass, and Damian make an appearance. Quotes taken from Forever Evil 7 and 8, and Nightwing 30. Tw for swearing, angst and domestic/child abuse (because canon is terrible and I can’t leave it the way it is).

Edit: I have an AO3 account now yay! Read here

“I’ll be right back.” Tim chirped as he left to pull some files out of his room. He could feel his friends’ gazes lingering on him as he left. He had to suppress an eye roll. He was fine. Your pseudo-dad/adopted-father-before-you-emancipated-yourself loses his memory and suddenly everyone thinks there’s something wrong with you. Figures. Bruce was happier this way. And maybe, one day, he’d be able to get to know him again. Maybe not as sorta-father and son. But Bruce 2.0 liked volunteering with kids, running charity events. Maybe they could be business partners, or coworkers. It wasn’t like last time. But that didn’t mean Cassie, Bart and Kon weren’t worried. No matter how many times he tried to explain, they wouldn’t listen. It was better this way. Bruce was happier without them. Without him. It stung at first sure, but he was over it. He could handle it. Even if the knot in his stomach told him otherwise.

His fingers brushed the lines on the hallway as he strode through Titan’s Tower. The halls seemed so much smaller than they used to be. Logically, he knew they were the same size. But they weren’t the same walls as when he’d first visited. And those hadn’t even been the first wall either. “We’ve had to rebuild this place like at least a million times.” Dick had told him. The knot tightened. Don’t think about it, he reprimanded himself. He’d been having a nice afternoon. It was relaxing, staying with his friends. But he couldn’t walk through the halls without feeling like a trespasser. This was Dick’s team. This was his home away from home. Who was he kidding? He was no Dick Grayson. Dick’s friends used to look to him for guidance, for advice, for help with problems, personal and business related. Tim used to look to him for guidance, advice and help. Stop thinking about him, he tried again. Forget the Crime Syndicate. Forget the funeral. Don’t stress, repress. He paused for a moment, stared aimlessly out the window, took a few deep breaths, cleared his mind and continued on his way.

Climbing the stairs, he decided it was better to use his mental faculties to go through the case he was working on. Jason had called two days ago asking about some of his old informants in Gotham, Penguin was apparently moving back onto the scene and reorganizing the structure of some of the newer gangs. Cleaning house. Informants were switching names, following their own protocols. Bruce had written some contingency in a classified file somewhere. The issue was where. The damn batcomputer had like a billion files on it. And Barbara knew the system, but was busy coordinating for the JLA and had put them on “Do not Disturb” mode for the foreseeable future. He could write a program to search for it. Stupid Bruce and his stupid files that he’d kept secret from them. “It was on a need to know basis.” He could almost here the defensiveness in Bruce’s voice if he tried hard enough. He nearly face planted as he miscalculated the number of stairs. Maybe they should just go back to their old Young Justice base. Or wait till the building inevitably explodes again and just make it better. That would be fun. Designing a Teen Titans base with slides and escalators. Bart would be thrilled. Bart could probably build it in 5 minutes. Dick wouldn’t approve, his brain felt the need to remind him. Tim nearly huffed. Well Dick is de-.

He abruptly lost his train of thought. There was noise coming from his room. Someone was sniffing, was someone crying in his room? Who was even in his room? Everyone was downstairs. Cissie and Steph were visiting in the lounge, Greta left a few days ago, the new kids were in the gym getting a feel for the equipment. The hell? His heart pounded a bit louder as he silently slunk towards his rooms. If Dick decided to haunt him from beyond the grave this was not cool. The lights flickered. Tim nearly screamed. He could feel cold sweat gathering in his palms, his heart racing, thoughts pounding in his skull. It’s just one of Bart’s pranks, no one can get in without access. He slid next to his door and pulled up the camera feed on his glove’s embedded computer. They weren’t in lockdown, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Few clicks here, few taps there and…Damian? Tim burst through the door, half relieved and fully confused.

“What are you doing here?” Tim half yelled, Damian startling on the bed as he burst into his room. Tim flicked the lights on as the gremlin crossed his arms in response. Tim shut the soundproof door, no need to bother Kon with this.

“I was given access to the tower as well.” He stated monotonously. Tim frowned; something was off. Damian didn’t just show up in his room. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the kid in weeks. Not since Bruce went all amnesiac on them. Where was he even staying. Damian shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, but flushed, his eyes bright. Had he been crying in here? “Quit gawking at me, Drake.” He spat, jolting Tim back into reality.

He almost opened his mouth to throw some insult back. Almost. He saw the kid’s lip tremble just so slightly, and he bit his tongue. The kid’s hands were shaking. “What’s up?” He replied cautiously. Keeping the demon brat in line wasn’t in his job description. But the kid had had a rough couple months. Dying, coming back to Dick being dead, Bruce losing his memory. He could help with whatever this was and-

“Grayson is alive.”

-send the kid back to Alfred, he knew the kid better than he did. He had his pets at the manor to keep him company, maybe he’d see if Jon would be willing to have a sleepover or something. Spring break was coming up soon, maybe he could take a trip out to Kansas-

“Drake!” Damian was waving a hand in front of his face. Tim blinked a few times. He hadn’t said…had he? That wasn’t right Dick was-

“Richard is alive, I can prove it.” There was desperation in the kid’s voice, water in his eyes. The trash can was filled with tissues, it had been empty when he left. His shirt was on inside out. Tim inhaled sharply. Fuck. Tim had been there. He’d done that. Denied reality. Gone on a wild fairy tale goose chase. Chased insane dreams. Sure, it had worked. But this was different. They had a body. We had a body then, his mind helpfully supplied. There was no real evidence. It had worked hadn’t it? Denying Bruce’s death out of reality? But Dick couldn’t be alive. Bruce had seen him die. Clark saw Bruce die, his brain again helpfully supplied. Tim studied Damian’s face carefully. He looked two steps away from a mental breakdown. Was that how I looked? He wasn’t exactly looking in any mirrors at the time. Dick had try to talk him back down, that was the wrong move. He’d doubled down. But Damian wasn’t him and Tim had no idea what to do. Damian stared at him, studying his face carefully. Tim could feel his palms sweating again, when had he started clenching his fists? His brain was ticking through options, tell Damian he believed him – high chance of heartbreak, low chance of kid running off and doing something stupid on his own. Try and talk him down – still some heartbreak, but can mitigate, medium to high chance of him running off. Call Alfred – should he really do that though? The kid came to him. Alfred’s busy dealing with amnesiac Bruce. Call someone else? Why did the kid come to him in the first place? Damian hated him, he wouldn’t come to him unless he was really sure, or really desperate. Does he think I can replicate what happened with Bruce? Time seemed to move like molasses. Tim swallowed. Now or never.

“I believe you.” He replied. Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, but his shoulders fell ever so slightly, and he rocked back on his heels, uncrossing his arms and leaning into a less defensive stance. Mixed results. He prayed he sounded convincing enough. If he was going this route, he had to go all the way. It didn’t matter that he’d seen the body. It didn’t matter that Bruce saw. He needed to be on Damian’s side with this one. Just like he’d needed somebody on his side back then. Even if it was a crazy side. Even if it was a leave everyone behind and run around on a whim side. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least the kid would have someone to catch him at the end. Why did it have to be the brat though?

“You do not. But you will.” Damian said solemnly, a bit of an edge to his voice. He pulled a laptop out of a bag on the floor and hopped up on the foot of Tim’s bed. Tim quietly settled next to him, careful to not touch him. He was careful. The kid didn’t appear to be looking for a fight, but you never know. Tim glanced at the laptop screen.

“DAMIAN NO WHAT THE-” He screamed. Damian nearly leapt of the bed. His face turned red.

“-tt- Grow up Drake, this is for research purposes only, that is not-” He started mumbling.

“You’re on DICK GRAYSON THIRST POST WEBSITES for RESEARCH!” Tim half screamed, attempting to lower his voice. Damian flushed harder.

“SHUT UP DRAKE!” He countered. Tim took deep breaths. Dear god, he needed to bleach his eyes after this. He did not need to know these threads existed. Fucking reddit. Humanity has gone too far. There were 20k followers. He peeked over again, the latest posts were from this morning. His mouth was dry. These people were lusting over his dead brother. It was sick, it was fucking disgusting it was-

“Wait what’s that picture?” Tim asked.

“-tt- If you would allow me to explain instead of losing your head, I can show you.” Damian grumbled. He clicked on the picture to enlarge it. “I’ve run the calculations, biometrically, the body shape is a 99.97% match.” Tim let out a low whistle. It wasn’t much to go on. You couldn’t see the figure’s face, he was turned away from the camera. Whoever took it was definitely aiming for a certain portion of the man’s body.

“Have you talked to the poster?” Tim inquired. Damian nodded.

“This subreddit is dedicated to…” Damian made a revolted looking face, “capturing casual images of Grayson in unsavory positions.” He nearly squirmed as he finished the sentence. “I was attempting to research the details of Grayson’s perceived passing and came across this website.” That was a different kind of trauma in Tim’s opinion. “The image caught my eye. He has fans in Ireland, that is where it was taken. These fans are apparently experts at picking him out.” Damian scrolled through some earlier posts to prove his point. “It is odd.” He added pointedly. Tim’s mind was racing. It was hardly evidence. It could have been anyone. But he was right. The perverts were good. They even had a few of Dick in disguise doing undercover work, none of his face of course. But Dick couldn’t be in Ireland. Tim went to the funeral. Bruce went to the funeral. Bruce saw Dick die. Bruce wouldn’t lie about something like that. He never told you about the Joker. His mind supplied. No. Bruce wouldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. He wouldn’t put them through that grief. Not after Damian. Not after all the lies. He promised he wouldn’t lie to them like that. The picture couldn’t be real. But Damian kept scrolling. There were more. In multiple countries. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way. People joked his brother’s butt was iconic but this was ridiculous.

“Drake?” Damian sounded so cautious. Tim was confused. The pictures all looked so real. So accurate. Could they be photoshopped? That could explain it.

“Did you get any of the original files?” He asked much too hastily to appear calm. A smile flicked on Damian’s face for a millisecond.

“You believe me.” Damian stated, half disbelievingly. Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. If he did, then he didn’t believe Bruce. Damian cleared his throat. “I have already examined a few of the original photographs. Their phones were laughably easy to hack.” He looked smug for a mentally unhinged eleven-year-old. “They do not appear to be tampered with.” Tim could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Dick couldn’t be alive. It wasn’t possible. He saw the body. Bruce was in the cave for a week going over it. Not allowing anyone in. No… Fuck…

“What did you do?” He muttered under his breath. Damian looked at him inquisitively, a determination burning in his eyes. Tim hadn’t seen any of the proof himself. And he believed Bruce unquestioningly. That was the opposite of what the man had taught him. But there was still something off. He looked searchingly at Damian. “Dick wouldn’t do that to us.” He couldn’t. Dick would never do something like that. He would tell them. He wasn’t like Bruce, he was reliable. Dick didn’t keep secrets like that. He wouldn’t fake his own death and leave them to fend for themselves. Not after Damian died. After everything they’d lost, after everything he’d lost. Dick wouldn’t do that to him. Damian’s eyes flickered toward the ground, and he frowned.

“Maybe he can’t tell us.” Is all he had to offer. It seemed like a sore spot. Tim didn’t push it. It was probably driving the kid insane. Dick, galivanting across the world, not checking in, not coming back to tell them he was okay? The odds were astronomically low. Dick was a constant. He was their brother. He was a Robin. Robins don’t do that to each other. Steph did, his brain helpfully supplied. But that wasn’t Steph’s fault. Tim dug his nails into his palms. He needed to know. He needed proof. He needed to see the footage, go over the evidence. He didn’t doubt Dick, but his mind was itching. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he knew for sure. Hell, Damian probably couldn’t either.

“Look, here’s the plan.” Tim said, his mind racing. Damian stared at him intently. Wow the kid really was desperate if he was willing to listen to him. “I’ll tell Kon I’m taking you home, that you need some help on a case, then will slip out. Maybe, maybe someone close to the family is compromised.” He said, a bit unsure. That could explain the lie. If there was one. Please let there be one. Damian nodded, stuffing his laptop back into his backpack. Tim crossed the room and grabbed the door handle.

A barely audible “Thanks.” reached his ears as he flipped off the lights.

Jason groaned as he checked his messages. He really didn’t want to go through the batcomputer files. It would be faster if Tim did it, plus he had a lower chance of accidentally messing something up. Not that the file system wasn’t already a disaster. Touch the wrong button and you’re locked in the cave till Alfred realizes something’s wrong.

Tim had stopped responding to his messages two days ago, and well, he couldn’t wait any longer. And so, he found himself zipping through the tunnel systems that led into the cave. It was better to avoid the manner if possible. Happy Bruce wasn’t high on the list of people he wanted to see. That dude was fucking weird. It made him feel weird. It did feel good to cross amnesia off his yearly family bingo though. Now he just needed someone to trip during an interview and he’d break Cass’s winning streak. At the rate they were checking things off, maybe he should start a second batch and make it biannual. That or change the prompts. They were getting predictable.

He rolled to a stop inside the cave, and nearly rolled his eyes seeing the mess of skid marks on the floor. Seriously, tires are expensive, why his siblings couldn’t park like normal human beings was beyond him.

Someone was clacking away on the upper platform. Oh, thank God Tim was probably here, figuring it out before he could mess everything up. Cass poked her head over the railing, Jason cocked an eyebrow at her as he removed his helmet. She grinned and jumped over it, catching the fireman’s pole and sliding down. Someone was going to break an ankle doing that, could he add that to the bingo cards? Stupid non-work related injury was already on there, maybe upgrading it to stupid broken bone would suffice. Dick broke his nose outside Denny’s at 3am last year during a post mission party. Hands down one of the best nights of Jason’s life. Too bad his family members decided to die at least once a year.

“I’m about to win bingo.” Cass whispered as she brushed past his shoulder. That jolted Jason out of his bittersweet thoughts.

“Bullshit.” He growled back, bingo was his this year. She smugly wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry brother.” She said sweetly, leaning her head into his shoulder. She let out a long sigh. And then Jason finally remembered that it most the squares weren’t exactly fun.

“Wait, the fuck’s going on?” Fuck, he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Nobody could have died Dick checked that off, amnesia was gone, Gotham destroyed was gone, natural disaster was checked, Joker breaks out and does dramatic shit was gone too. But that wasn’t a good sigh, that was a ‘I’m so tired of this family sigh’, which could narrow it down a bit. Cass squeezed his shoulder.

“Family secrets.” She admitted, giving him a melancholy look. Jason groaned. This family was the fucking worst. Bruce wasn’t even really part of it right now, who the hell was keeping secrets? Damian. Had to be Damian. Little monster was just like his dad. Fuck. Dick taught the kid better than that. What kind of mess was he in?

Cass took him by the wrist and started dragging him towards the stairs. He resisted briefly as they got to the base. He needed to know. “Who’s is it?” He asked, planting his feet on the ground.

Cass bit her lip, looking extremely uncomfortable. Jason pulled back his arms and crossed them, keeping his expression as neutral as he could, but she could probably read his mood anyways.

“HA. HAHAHA HA. FUCK YOU BRUCE! TAKE THAT SHIT-COMPUTER!”

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin at Tim’s screeching from upstairs, Cass was running up the stairs, not waiting to see if he was coming. Jason sighed. It was going to be on of those days. He took a deep breath and headed up behind her.

Tim was doing a victory dance in front of the computer. Damian was crawling out from under the computer, a shit eating grin on his face. They both looked (and smelled) a mess. Definitely neither had showered in a few days, probably hadn’t slept either.

“Todd, you are just in time to witness our victory over father.” Damian greeted, formal as ever. The brat didn’t even through an insult in there. Must be in a good mood. Well that at least explained who was keeping secrets. Stupid Bruce, keeping secrets even while an amnesiac. Screw him.

“Shall we?” Tim asked, offering a hand to Damian, which shockingly the kid took. The fuck did he miss?!?

“Uh, what the fuck?” He managed to get out. There was cowl footage pulled up on the screen. Cass was pulling chairs over from the table. He tiredly took the seat she offered him.

“Waaaaiiiiiit I have popcorn!” Steph called, pounding down the stairs.

“Steph no!” Tim moaned. “This isn’t a joke!”

“What’s family drama without popcorn?” Steph sung back. Damian huffed. Cass snickered. Jason had to smirk to himself. Dark humor was the best coping mechanism in this family. “Besides you haven’t told us what this is!” She accused. Well at least Jason wasn’t the only one who didn’t know. Tim shifted guilty at the computer, his eyes darting from Damian and then back to the group. Damian responded by huffing and crossing his arms.

“Drake did not ‘want to get your hopes up’.” He began, mimicking Tim’s voice perfectly, “-tt-His concern is unfounded, my research has been impeccable, Gr-” Tim shoved a hand over Damian’s mouth. Damian looked downright murderous.

“Look we want to watch the footage beforehand it might be-” Tim squawked as Cass lunged off the table, hopped over his shoulders and hit play on the batcomputer. “Cass wait!” He got out as the video began to play. Steph grabbed Tim from behind and dragged him into a seat.

The screen showed footage from a first-person perspective, they were walking through a doorway into a large room.

“I’m tired of secrets.” Muttered Cass as she slipped in a chair next to Steph. Damian staid standing, glaring intensely at the screen, looking strangely anguished.

“Hey, kid you can…” The invitation died in his throat. The camera moved forward into the room, revealing a beaten Dick Grayson in the center, hooked to countless machines, suspended in a metal cocoon, only his face and chest peeking out.

“Oh my God.” Came a familiar voice from the screen. A growl reverberated in the cave.

“Well Batman…” Luthor materialized on the right, “…You’ve found Nightwing.” He said, stalking forward.

Something clattered on the floor. The camera was rushing forward. Voices from the cave mixed with voices on the screen.

“Why would you want to watch this!?” shrieked Steph.

“Dick? Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.” Bruce’s gruff voice sounded oddly strained.

“Shut up Brown!” Came Damian in a high-pitched voice.

“He never showed us the evidence.” Tim’s voice squeaked. “We have to watch till the end?”

“I’m sorry I shut you out. All of you. I didn’t want you getting hurt…I’m going to get you out of this.” Came Bruce’s shaking voice. Jason could feel a lump growing in his throat. He didn’t want to see this.

“Fast-forward?” Cass suggested, her voice equally shaken. Jason could barely see the others in the cave, his eyes were glued to the screen.

“No…You need to…leave.” Came Dick’s horse whisper of a voice. “You need to go…”

Damian made an inhuman noise, which allowed Jason to tear his eyes off the screen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Muttered Tim. “We can’t fast-forward we need to know what happened.” He forced a sense of determination into his voice. “This is why I didn’t-”

THOOM. The sound rumbled through the cave. Jason jumped out of his seat. The camera whipped around revealing the exit sealed off, with Luthor, Selina, and Bizzarro trapped inside.

“-you guys can still leave.” Tim said shakily.

BA-DEEP. Blared through the speakers. BA-DEEP.

“What is that?” Came Selina’s voice, her usual smooth and silky persona dropped. BA-DEEP.

“It’s a countdown. This isn’t just a fancy pair of handcuffs, Catwoman. It’s a bomb.” Came Lex’s gruff voice. The camera turned again showing a timer counting down from 5 minutes. Jason’s stomach painfully twisted at the reminder of another countdown in another sealed building.

“We’re staying.” He managed to get out. He might have heard noises of affirmation.

WHAM. “The door. The walls. Why can’t we break through them?” Came Luthor’s voice.

“This cell was designed to hold Doomsday, Luthor.” Came Bruce’s voice again. The camera showed him messing with the panel. BA-DEEP.

“Is the countdown monitoring his heart?” Selina asked from seemingly far away.

“Yes.” Boomed Bruce’s voice. BA-DEEP.

“Why?” Replied Selina.

“The detonator is hooked into it.” Bruce responded. Jason’s heart sunk. “He died in a death trap. There was no way out.” Bruce had told him before the funeral. BA-DEEP.

“Batman…The bomb…” Dick whispered. BA-DEEP. Jason spared another glance at Damian. There were tears beginning to form in his eyes, but he stared, glued to the screen all the same. “…It only disams…If my heart stops.” Jason could feel his chest tightening painfully. “I die…or we all die.” BA-DEEP.

“Maybe Bruce had a reason for not showing this to us.” Steph said shakily. Jason glanced over. She looked green. Her sleave and eyes were both wet. The sounds of the heart monitor echoed in the cave.

BA-DEEP. “Please…Listen to me…” Dick’s horse voice started again. Tim was muttering frantically to himself. “You still have time to get yourself out of here.” The camera was so close. Jason could see every cut on his brother’s face, could see the sweat on his brow, the blood trickling down from his nose.

BA-DEEP. “I am not leaving you, Dick. I am not abandoning you.” Bruce sounded much more confident that Jason felt. Too bad Bruce didn’t sound confident.

“You aren’t Bruce. And you never have.” Dick replied. Jason’s vision was blurring. All he wanted was some stupid computer files. He didn’t come to the cave to watch this.

BA-DEEP. “The only way we’re getting out of here is together…No…The wires…” Jason dug his fingernails into his palms. “…Every time I disconnect a relay, it fixes itself.” Jason bit his lip.

BA-DEEP. At some point those in the caves had gone silent. “Then there’s only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman.” Came Luthor’s voice. The video jolted violently and Bruce’s cry reverberated through the cave. Chaos erupted on the screen. A cacophony associated with their customary brand of violence echoed through the speakers, obscuring some of the voices.

BA-DEEP. “I’m saving our lives.” Jason made out. The screen was black. Jason glanced around the room. Everyone was tense. Damian was crying. Tim looked horrified. Cass was perfectly still, her expression blank. Steph looked one step away from throwing up in the empty popcorn bowl that lie on the ground at her feet.

BA-DEEP. The camera was moving again. “LUTHOR.” Boomed Bruce’s voice again. Jason caught a glimpse of the man pressing a hand over Dick’s face. “LUTHOR, YOU HURT HIM AND I WILL KILL YOU.” Cass let out the faintest gasp. Bruce wasn’t lying. How the hell was Luthor still alive? The heart monitor was stuttering. BA-DEEEEEP

“Nonononononononononono.” Came Tim’s voice. “It wasn’t supposed to-”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“DICK.” Screamed Bruce. The camera rushed forward.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“NO!” Yelled Bruce and Tim at the same time. Damian had sunk to the floor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A fist kept pounding Luthor in the face relentlessly. “Batman, wait-” Luthor pleaded. This was not how Jason had wanted Bruce to break his code.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“YOU MURDERER!” Screeched Bruce, righteous fury echoing in his voice. The heart monitor cut off. A hand reached down to cut off Luthor’s windpipe.

“I have this…” Came Luthor’s strangled voice. He looked terrified. “Under control…Grayson…” The hand squeezed harder. “-kk-!” The man chocked. Bruce lessened up slightly. “It’s not too late, you idiot.” Spat Luthor. Bruce was apparently passed the point of listening.

“YOU MURDERED NIGHTWING.” He growled, tightening his grip once more. Luthor was going bug eyed. The man was going to actually die if Bruce pushed it much harded.

“Batman-” Came Selina’s voice.

“Luthor killed Dick, Selina.” Bruce said, his voice strangled.

“You said this lightning rod was from the future! Maybe we can use it to save him or something? I don’t know-!” She cried desperately.

A flash of light and crackle of electricity resounded through the cave. The screen went black for a moment.

Jason could hear metal clinking on the floor.

“Why are we still watching this?” Jason asked hoarsely. Tim looked at him palely.

“I need to know what happened next.” He whispered.

“If I hadn’t stopped Grayson’s heart, this ‘Murder Machine’ would have detonated and we all would have died. I had to make a choice, Batman. I made him flatline…after I forced him to swallow a cardioplegia pill.” The camera slowly tilted back up to focus on Luthor.

“A what?” Asked Steph and Selina at the same time.

“A drug that paralyzes the cardiac muscles surrounding the heart.” Replied Tim and Bruce in sync.

“Then…” Trailed off Damian. The boy looked up hopefully at the screen.

“And if this boy’s heart doesn’t get a shot of adrenaline right this very second he’s going to stay dead.” Luthor finished.

*kaff*

That small cough was the best sound Jason had heard in his entire life.

“YES!” Shouted Tim.

Damian swallowed. “As I expected.” He said shakily. No one called him out on it.

“Dick?” Came Bruce’s voice from the screen.

“Batman?” Dick’s wobbly voice whispered.

Cass tackled Steph into a bear hug, and Steph laughed widely as they clattered to the floor. Jason just sighed deeply and let his head drop into his hands in relief.

“Drake-” gasped Damian, “-get off.”

“You were right! Damian was right! Dick’s alive. HAHA Dick’s ALIVE!” Jason glanced up to see Tim squeezing the crap out of Damian who was going slightly blue in the face. There were words coming from the speakers still but they fell to the wayside in the celebration. Jason walked over and turned the volume down.

“I’m going to kill them.” Jason muttered under his breath. But he’d save that for later, for now, he just paced back to his chair and sunk into it. The cave was quiet for a few minutes, Dick and Bruce continued on whatever the fuck adventure they were on was. The rest of the video was a blur. By the end, Jason’s racing heart had settled, and the kids had stopped clinging to each other.

“But wait.” Said Steph as the video ended. “If Dick’s alive, where is he? How did you even know to look?”

Jason turned to see Tim babbling. “Well I have a few theories, we recovered more footage as well, you know? Like Damian found pictures of him all across the world so like, we don’t know for certain where he is, but like I don’t know for sure what happened, but maybe someone was compromised so like, he had to stay hidden or like…” Tim continued babbling as the next video began to play. It was once again footage from the cowl. “Bruce shut off all the camera’s in the cave for the next week, I thought he was sulking but like we were able to find some cowl footage that he deleted, and like hopefully from that we can figure out what happened and how to track him down-”

“Turn up the volume.” Demanded Cass from her seat. She was looking at the screen with an odd expression. Damian moved without hesitation. Jason’s eyes followed up to the screen. Dick was glaring into the camera his fists raised and wrapped.

“So, one more time Dick. But now there’s only one rule…You have to win.” Came Bruce’s gruff voice. The pair was in the cave. Dick lunged towards the camera. “You let the crime syndicate capture you. Let them torture you. You let them give your secrets to the world.” Bruce accused.

“Bruce man, what the fuck!” Steph yelled, masking Dick’s response.

Bruce continued “You let them turn you into a bomb. You let them kill you. Before Luthor rescued you, you let everyone WATCH YOU DIE.” He boomed.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Jason bellowed, knocking over his chair as he stood. He walked away from the screen. Only fucking Bruce. Only fucking Bruce would blame someone for their death. Jason knew that all too well. He walked away from the screen, giving himself distance to clear his head.”

“I trained you to LIVE, and I watched you DIE!” CRACK. Jason flipped around to see Bruce elbow Dick in the face, drawing blood. Bruce’s words cut like a knife. It wasn’t Jason’s fault he died. It wasn’t Dick’s fault either. Neither Steph’s or Damian’s. Damian had unconsciously taken cover behind Tim, who was standing between Damian and the screen with an arm hovering over the kid’s shoulder.

“WHAT THE FUCK BRUCE!” Screamed Steph at the screen, she was also on her feet at this point. Only Cass’s hand prevented her from trying to fight the digital apparition. “WE DON’T JUST GO AROUND DYING WILLY NILLY, IT’S NOT MY-, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” Her voice shrilly echoed around the cave, drowning out the audio temporarily.

Dick was on his knees, wiping his bloody nose, looking up confused. WHACK. A powerful kick sent him flying off the platform, crashing into a costume display case. “I have a mission for you, Dick. I need you to do something that will hurt your friends. Your family.” Bruce commanded. He could hear Damian inhale sharply. Tim stopped hovering and pulled Damian tightly into his chest, rushing forward to pause the video, with the boy in tow. His hand was over the button before Cass sprung forward and grabbed his wrist. Jason had never seen Cass look this angry without the mask.

“I deserve to know.” She said with conviction, anger deep in her voice. “I deserve to know what kind of father he is.” She spat. Jason wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole.

“But he shouldn’t, I mean I don’t know if, I mean I don’t know what, I mean-” Tim sputtered glancing from the screen to Damian and back again.

“I want to know the truth.” Came Damian’s tiny reply. He looked so young, he pushed away from Tim’s chest, but leaned into his side.

Cass pulled Tim’s hand back. “I fought him once.” She admitted. “I need to know.” She repeated.

Tim looked at her pleadingly. Bruce and Dick raged at each other on screen. Blood flowed from the cuts on Dick’s back. “I…I…” Tim stammered.

“We all deserve to know.” Steph piped up, leaning against the side of the computer.

“Fight like you’re alive!” Bruce yelled on the screen. CRACK. An oversized die broke on impact with the back of Dick’s head. Dick retaliated, throwing a question mark back.

The words were blurring in Jason’s head, his rage clouding his thoughts, and overtaking his senses. The rest of the world was disappearing, leaving only the screen behind. His vision tunneled. He crossed his arms as tightly as he could, willing himself to stay in place. Stay calm. His hearing cut out. But he could still read his name on his brother’s lips just before Bruce delivered an uppercut powerful enough to knock Dick off the dinosaur.

The next thing Jason knew Cass was sitting on him. People were yelling at him.

“-on’t break the screen-”

“-up I need to see-”

“-op fighting-”

Cass smiled apologetically before tapping a pressure point. Jason allowed himself to fade into the darkness.

He came to in a medical bay of the cave, with an intense desire to get out. This place was cursed. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed to process, but he needed to get out. He pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Wait.” Came a voice from behind him. He spun off the bed to see Tim, awkwardly standing on the other side of the cot. Jason edged towards the door. “We know where he is.” Tim offered. Jason glanced at Tim, and back to the door.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” He asked quietly. He didn’t want to be in the cave for this. Tim awkwardly bobbed side to side.

“Uh about that. We’re moving out.” He said quickly. Jason opened the door.

“OMGIT’SREDHOODHIMR.REDHOODSIRPLEASEDON’TKILLTIM-”

Jason slammed the door in the kid’s face. He stared at Tim, who was banging his head into the wall with a hand covering his eyes.

“Do I even want to know?” Jason asked. Tim groaned.

“I called my team to help us move out, we’re going to use the bunker for Gotham operations from now on.” Tim explained. A loud crash came from outside. The door whipped open.

“Heythegiantpennyisn’t-” The kid started. Jason growled at him. “-nevermindbyebye.” The speedster zipped away and slammed the door.

“You decided this without me?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim. Tim looked back at him sheepishly.

“You’re already out voted. Besides you really want to stay here?” He replied evenly. Jason shrugged, that was fair. He’d already tried to leave. “I know you said you don’t want to talk here, but I don’t know when I’ll get you alone again.” Jason sighed. That’s valid, he was planning on avoiding the family for a bit. “Please don’t pull a disappearing act.” Jason looked up at him.

“Why not?” He challenged.

“We don’t need Bruce to be a family.” Tim replied. It sounded rehearsed. That was also fair. “And we need each other too. We found some communications from Dick, Bruce left him stranded when he got amnesia, he’s coming back in a few days.” Jason couldn’t look Tim in the eye anymore.

“I don’t know what to do.” He said honestly, looking at Tim’s shoes. What do you say after something like this? After watching something like that. After knowing the truth.

“Neither do we, but we’ll figure it out together.” Tim offered. He looked sad, tired, his face fell before he spoke again. “He…he misses us.” He spoke softly. “On the recordings. I, I don’t think Bruce even told him about Damian.” Jason swore softly under his breath. Bruce was one fucking piece of work.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jason said after a moment, catching Tim’s eye once more.

Tim shook his head. “The rest of the tape was mostly the same.” He said quietly. “He won.” He added as an afterthought. Jason snorted. Tim gave a warry smile. None of them ever won. Not in the ways they wanted to. Only when the prizes were more pain, more guilt, more heartbreak.

Jason leaned back against the wall. How was this the way things ended up? Was Bruce always this cruel? The man was unrecognizable to Jason. It was inexcusable. After Willis? After Cain? After Brown? Hell, even Tim’s father was emotionally abusive before he died. Why couldn’t any of them have a normal father? A stable parental relationship. It wasn’t fair. And it hurt more because he didn’t even know where it started. Bruce had been a good father to him. Had that been a lie? He’d never looked to closely at why Dick had left home, could it be that…that…? Had Jason missed something like this? Would he ever even know what he’d missed? They didn’t have as many cameras back then.

Tim had crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay.” He said confidently. “As long as we have each other, we’ll all be okay.” Tim squeezed his shoulder gently before disappearing through the door into the chaos that used to be his childhood fantasy. When had it all gone so wrong, he had to ask himself. He hated that he knew the answer. His death was this fucking family’s original sin. But you know what, that wasn’t his fault. Even if it felt like it. Even if Bruce still blamed him. Dick didn’t look at him like a ghost, he didn’t look at him like a kid in over his head, like a regret, like a mistake. It was time for Bruce to grow the hell up and move on. Bad experiences don’t justify beating your kids. Maybe from here, they could move on. Maybe from here on, they could heal. Maybe they could start over. Maybe they could make their own new family. Bruce had abused them, lied to them, manipulated them enough. It was time to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and fly again. He wouldn’t know unless he tried. He didn’t have to give up on Gotham. But maybe it was time to give up on Bruce.

Jason swung open the door, descending into a future unknown, diverging from the circle of heartache and abuse. He had broken the cycle once before, on his own, with a new family made of friends, one of his choosing. And now he chose to break it once more, and this time he resolved not to leave his siblings behind.

#dickgraysonweek2021 #dickgraysonweek #dick grasyon #nightwing #batfamily #my writing #tw domestic abuse #tw child abuse #tw swearing

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itsmeevie01 · 3 years

Text

A Moment in Time- Ch 13

MASTERPOST

has it been...a week? wow.

BUT I have planned a bit of the next few chapters. YAY!

I'm also failing bio but whatever. it's fine. everything is fine. (it's really not but I won't acknowledge it.)

anyways, no warnings for this ch, just Mari and Tim time!

Tim’s hotel room was nice. He really couldn’t complain, but there was something that made the back of his neck prickle. It hadn’t been only at the hotel either, but it was where he had felt it most acutely. There was someone at the hotel watching him.

When he had arrived in Paris the night before, Tim had been shocked at the tense atmosphere. The last time he had visited six months earlier, there hadn’t been this feeling of everyone holding their breath. Now, Tim was tense simply because everyone around him was. He wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of being watched or if it was the way everyone was holding their breath, but Tim’s nerves were frying very quickly.

He was supposed to meet Marinette for coffee in the next hour, and Tim was more than ready to see a face that he wasn’t paying to like him. As he slumped into a chair, the teen debated texting Marinette to ask for somewhere slightly more private to stave off his paranoia. As the clock ticked down, Tim gritted his teeth, caught up in his head. A ding from his phone brought him back to the present. With a glance down Tim jolted.

Tim+Marinette

Marinette- Hey! Just a reminder that we are meeting at that café I gave you the address to. I’ll be there in about 15 minutes, so I’ll see you soon!

Tim- Thanks, Marinette! I’m looking forward to seeing you!

Marinette- Me too 😊

Tim studied his phone before he yelped. It was a five-minute walk to the café, and he still hadn’t changed from his suit from earlier. The teen groaned and shook his head at his forgetfulness.

Marinette was surprisingly nervous when she sat down at the café she had told Tim about. Her hand was shaking, and she had no idea why. In front of her was a plate with a muffin and a coffee cup that had been made the way the staff knew she liked. The truth was this is where she camped out when her room was closing in on her. That meant that the people who worked there knew Marinette well enough to respect her privacy, while also holding a conversation when she had the time.

With a shaking hand, Marinette set her sketchbook on the tables and opened it to the last sketch she had been working on. As she cleaned up the lines and made notes about what specifications she wanted Marinette started to fall into the mental spiral that could trap her for days.

Had she picked the right clothes?

Why was she worried about what she wore?

Would Plagg behave? He was known for causing trouble for her.

Would Tim be nice in person, or would he be like most of the corporate douches that she worked with at Agreste?

Would Hawkmoth attack while they were together?

What if the media caught sight of them? Oh, she should have picked a more private place to meet!

A sharp prick on her thigh had Marinette yipping quietly, but the look Plagg gave her told the teen that he knew what was going through her head.

The Kwamii snuck up to her shoulder and his in her hair. “careful, Red. There are people here but not too many, this kid seems like he has a good head on his shoulders. We can trust him on that. You won’t get a better read on him until you spend time with him in person, so don’t start the spiral just yet. Plus, you know that some of the stress from this week is getting to you. Training three Miracle holders is stressful in the best of times. You are doing it in combat times without the full team the guardians used to use.” the duo could feel the tension leave Marinette’s shoulders at the small god’s words.

The teen whispered “thanks Plagg” as she focused back on the design in front of her.

Tim walked into the café and glanced around as he ordered.

There were only a few patrons there. in one corner was a red-headed boy who was obviously absorbed in his schoolwork. Near the middle was a girl who was typing on her computer with the manic speed of someone who had a paper due in the next day. In the far corner was a dark-haired girl who was working in some kind of notebook. And a few tables away from the register was a duo. A blonde girl whose hair was held in the kind of ponytail that made Tim cringe in sympathy, and a boy with dark hair that looked completely uncomfortable. Hopefully, Tim wasn’t witnessing a date gone wrong.

as he accepted his food, the teen headed for the girl in the back corner. He knew that Marinette had dark hair and that if she was anything like Jason, she would choose the place that would give her the best view of the space. Tim cleared his throat as he approached, breaking her out of focus on what Tim now realized was a sketchbook. “Marinette?”

“Tim! Hi! Come sit with me.” The girl’s enthusiasm made Tim smile, and he easily settled into the chair across from her.

The first few moments were awkward, but soon, Tim and Marinette were laughing and talking together happily. At one point, Tim got Marinette to really laugh. As she was pulling herself together, Tim tilted his head back. A smile danced over his features while he stretched his neck. as he leaned back, Tim noticed the blond girl narrowing her eyes at him, before glaring when she realized that she had been caught. She flipped her hair and whirled back around to face the boy that was laughing at her. Marinette snorted at the flush on the girl's face and rolled her eyes.

“that’s my friend, Chloé, she doesn’t think that I know that she is here with our friend. She’s just a big snoop.” Tim huffed a laugh and shrugged.

“Well, as long as it's just your friend spying on us, we should be fine. Are you interested in perhaps taking a walk?” Marinette giggled before standing. Tim joined her and offered her his hand. She sent him a smile and wiggled her fingers at him, before collecting her stuff and skipping off.

As she turned to smile at him, Tim called out a “hey! Wait up!” before hurrying after her.

After he had caught up with her, Marinette shot Tim a smile and led him off down the streets. He laughed and followed. The ease the girl used to navigate the streets had Tim marveling. The sound of her giggles had him smiling as he followed. Soon, they arrived at a small townhouse on the outskirts of the city. She glanced over her shoulder and inclined her head. Once they were both in the foyer, she guided him through to the sitting room.

“sorry about the…adventure. I know that you had more questions, and there were a few people in the café that I don’t trust.” Tim blinked, before nodding.

“I…ok? How did you know that I had questions? And as much as I liked exploring the city, where are we?” Marinette blushed slightly.

“we-ah. Well, we are at my Nona’s house. She lets me use it when she isn’t here to get some space. And…well…I know that your emails were full of questions, and I realized that anyone who wasn’t Parisian would have questions. And. Well. I saw a girl I don’t get along with in there and I wanted an excuse to get away from her?” Tim studied her for a moment, before bursting out laughing.

“Marinette, that would have been a perfectly fine reason, even without any reasonable justification. But” here, Tim worked to reign in his laughter, “the trip through the labyrinth of Paris, and the who thing…thank you.” A look of confusion crossed the girl’s face. “ever since I’ve landed, I’ve had the feeling that there was something watching me. Not only that, but everyone I’ve met has been holding their breath. I know that there is something going on, but I haven’t asked because I’m afraid of setting someone off. Do you know what’s going on in Paris? And why…why do I feel better here in your Nona’s home than in my hotel or the café?”

Marinette tensed as Tim talked. When he finished, she hesitated before voicing her concern. “Tim…did you say that you don’t feel like you’re being watched anymore?”

“yes?”

“oh my god. Tim! That’s…oh no. No. no. no! Tim…that means that Hawkmoth had decided that you would make a good Akuma. This house is out of the city proper, so he can’t get us here. Oh, this is so bad!”

“Marinette, hey. Stop. Look at me.” The girl, who had started to pace, paused. She glanced over at the older teen, her blue eyes wide in panic. Tim reached out and took her hands in his and gripped them tightly. Once her eyes were focused on him, and not the wall behind him, Tim spoke quietly. “Marinette are you with me?” she nodded. “is the reason that you reacted like that because of panic?” another nod. “talk me through why.” Her eyes went wide, and she looked at him in shock before taking a shaking breath and turning away.

“you could have been akumatized. You could have been akumatized and would have been with me and I would be to blame. Then you would-or still can- turn Jason and Nona against me. Then I could be exiled from Paris, or-“ Tim had squeezed her hands that he still somehow held during her spiral. Marinette spun around to face the older boy in shock.

“Marinette, how would me being akumatized become your fault? If we are going to lay blame on anyone, it would be Hawkmoth. He is the one who is going around possessing people with evil purple butterflies.” She studied him, shocked, before breathing out a sigh of relief.

“I am so sorry, Tim. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. That was so rude.” Tim shook his head in response as she collapsed onto one of the couches.

“you have nothing to apologize for. I have a feeling that after the time you spent in Gotham, living under a supervillain for four years has been stressful. Maybe during your time in Gotham, if you don’t have the sight of my face by then,” here the younger girl giggled, relief evident in her face at the proposal for other plans, “maybe I can take you around Gotham and give you the time to explore without a psychopath with mind-reading abilities hanging over your head.”

A small smile danced over Marinette’s lips. “I would love that Tim, thank you.”

Later that evening, Marinette sighed in frustration.

Her homework was just one more thing she had to worry about. Beyond that, she really wanted to spend time with Tim. With Hawkmoth watching him, she wasn’t sure how long her friend would last in the city of love.

Another sigh broke its way free from Marinette’s throat, and the girl pushed aside the pile of schoolwork in favor of looking over her sketchbook. There, on the open page, was Tim’s face staring back up at her. She wasn’t sure what prompted her to draw him, but in this case, she was chalking up to her hand having a mind of its own. Looking down at the picture, she felt anger overtake her. Marinette had already given up so much, and yet here she was.

If this ridiculousness from Hawkmoth didn’t stop, the teen knew she would have to sacrifice her friendship with Tim as well, If only to protect him. the seed of anger seemed to burn brighter, and the girl clenched her jaw, trying to remind herself that no, this was not worth an Akumatization.

She looked up, trying to drain her eyes of the tears that had gathered without her permission, and caught sight of a purple butterfly. With trembling hands, the teen pulled out a glass jar that she had been experimenting with. One muttered spell later, the Akuma was sitting inside of the jar, and the glass had clouded over. With an angry shake of the Jar, the girl pulled out her phone and sent one text. They were ending this, tonight.

As Marinette prepared to meet her team, an assuredness settled over her. She knew that they had the ability to take down Adrien’s father. Apate just had to give the signal. And Marinette Dupain Cheng would be damned if she let an emotional terrorist ruin one more day of her life.

It was time to take Gabriel Agreste down.

sooooooo........... who liked Alya, Chloé, and Adrien date crashing. one was unintentional, but the other two totally knew something was happening bc Mari did tell ANYBODY about Tim or meeting him.

side note, yes, I consider this the first date. they don't...yet.

ahhhhhhhhh Hawkmoth is going down. Angry Mari because her friend is being threatened? you bet! no, Chloé is NOT going to be happy.

if anyone has a good suggestion for a Gotham villain who is not the Joker or Riddler PLEASE let me know. I am PLOTTING. yes, my next stop is Google. no, no one is going to be happy.

TAGLIST

@moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @solangelo252 @corporeal-terrestrial @woe-is-me0 @toodaloo-kangaroo @sizzling-fairy-oil

#a moment in time fic #maribat #ml x dc #timari #sibling!jasonette #my writing #ahhhhhhhhhhh #its coming together #arch 1 is almost doen #and arch 2 is halfway there

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kenanda · 3 years

Note

It was hard to decide but... 101 for smut prompt please? 👁️ (do I need to write lonelyeyes or is it default?)

Prompt: 101 - “you’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

Eye, you absolute genius! Thank you for the prompt and for the beta read! I hope this is to your liking; I certainly had a grand old time writing this piece!

Disclaimer: These characters AREN’T mine. They belong to Rusty Quill’s The Magnus Archives.

Warning: This work ISN’T SUITABLE for minors. It’s a NSFW piece of slash fiction. Therefore, if you’re a minor or in any way squicked by what’s in the tags, DO NOT READ!

WORTH THE WAIT Words: 2,9k Pairing: LonelyEyes; Jonah!Elias / Peter Lukas Rating: EXPLICIT Tags: established relationship, University!AU, Young!LonelyEyes, unrequited crush, drinking, rimming, handjob, exhibitionism, mild dirty talk, rutting, fingering, touch averse!Peter, Slut-&-Proud! Elias, prompt fill

FILTHY LONELYEYES BELOW THE CUT, MY BELOVED!!!!!

WORTH THE WAIT

There has to be some sort of cosmic joke at play for Elias to develop a crush on someone from his uni class and that said someone happens to be Peter Lukas.

Because you see, as likeable and polite as Peter is, there’s something about the guy that keeps people at a distance. Try as he might, Elias never seems able to bridge that gap, much less make it understood that he wants Peter as more than a colleague or a friend.

It has occurred to him that Peter may not be interested in romance or sex at all. The first seems more feasible; the latter, not so much. Elias is always keeping an eye on Peter (perks of living across the hall from one another) and has seen him bring people to his room on more than one occasion.

Not often, no, but enough to make Elias wonder — about Peter, about those people, and what they could be doing together just across the hall. It takes Elias a while to fall asleep on those nights.

In class, Peter sits next to him and makes light conversation, but it never goes beyond that. Elias is annoyed that Peter doesn't seem to have any interest in him, especially when Elias is handsome, manly, and has an ass that looks great in joggers — which he makes a point to always wear to their study sessions.

If anything, Elias is patient. If he has to keep wearing joggers and asking Peter out with hopes that he will one day finally say yes, then so be it. Though that isn’t to say Elias will breeze through his trials with a smile on his face: by the end of another month of repeatedly getting turned down, Elias is snapping even at his mates.

It's surprising that this mood is what causes Peter to initiate conversation that’s not about class.

"Something bothering you?"

Elias blinks a few times because he isn't sure he heard it right.

"A few things, yeah."

"I've got something for that in my room. Come by tonight if you want. Will help you relax a bit."

Elias hopes that it isn't too evident that he’s essentially dancing in his seat from then on. Talk about a mood change: one could even call him cheery.

When night comes and the halls are quiet, Elias showers with such intent that his skin becomes red; he scrubs every nook and cranny, but doesn't apply perfume. He knows that Peter doesn't like it.

Elias puts on something easy to remove: grey joggers, a sweatshirt and nothing else. At least he can pull the sweatshirt down and hide the fact that he's half hard (he’s been on the very edge of horny from the moment Peter asked him out).

He never considers the possibility that Peter might have meant anything other than sex. When he gets there, Elias is hit in the chest with the sight of a cramped room. Four people are there besides Peter, sharing a now half empty bottle of vodka.

Elias' mood sours.

"There's the man! Mr. Bouchard! Took you long enough mate, thought you weren't coming," chimes Tim, a chipper guy from their class that Elias has no idea why Peter is even friends with.

Elias does his best to smile. "Yeah, I overslept a bit."

They welcome him inside with friendly pats on the back. Peter eyes him curiously, but doesn't say anything.

Elias wants to storm off and find better things to do with his joggers clad ass. But he's here already, isn't he? One doesn’t always get a chance to drink expensive vodka.

It doesn’t take the six of them long to finish the bottle. When midnight rolls around, Elias has had time to allow his alcohol addled thoughts to simmer. He can't believe he had hoped today would finally be it. Look at him now! This is so humiliating that he almost feels exposed, knowing that only a flimsy piece of fabric keeps him from being butt naked among these guys.

"Right," Tim says at some point. "I've got an assignment due tomorrow that I need to finish up."

“You mean due today,” Peter points out, and the others laugh. Elias rolls his eyes.

Tim’s departure is their cue to go as well, but Elias stays behind (perhaps due to some remaining fool’s hope). He knocks back whatever vodka is left in his cup and puts it aside, savoring defeat. He stands up.

"Well, I don't suppose you have another bottle hiding somewhere, so I guess I'll be going too."

Peter smiles. "I don't, but I don't believe that would help you."

"What do you mean?"

Peter scoots to the edge of the bed.

"I'm just saying you look as constipated now as when you first came in."

Elias can't help but laugh, and Peter’s grin widens.

"You have yourself to thank for that."

"Oh? What did I do?"

Should Elias tell him? Should he really dig a deeper hole for himself? Well, fuck it, he’s here already. And to make it worse, he is just on this side of drunk.

"Better yet, what you didn't do. Are you daft or what?! I thought I've been quite clear up until now. 'Something to help you relax'. Bullshit. You're full of bullshit, Lukas."

Peter's frown only lasts a second before realisation hits him, followed by the same old amusement. If Elias didn't spend most of his time wanting to blow the guy, he would've punched Peter in the throat.

"Oh god..." Peter says.

Elias clenches his jaw and juts out his chin. "Took you long enough," he spits out, but Peter's caught up on something else.

"You're not- You're not wearing anything under that, are you?"

Elias does his best not to wobble, but the wave of dizziness that hits him is real; his stomach sinks. He had somehow forgotten that fact.

"What if I’m not?!" He growls defensively. Why should he be the one to feel embarrassed when Peter was literally an oaf? "Hell, I'm out of here."

"Hold on," Peter calls, because Elias essentially bolts for the door. Elias pauses with a hand on the handle.

Peter sighs audibly.

"I figured. I mean, I had a pretty good guess when you kept showing up all commando, but I thought 'hey maybe the guy needs more room down there',” he snickers.

"Fuck you, Lukas."

"Sorry. I know."

What he says next is something Elias never thought he'd hear.

"Let me make it up to you."

Elias turns around with both arms crossed. Peter beckons him closer with a no-nonsense look.

Elias goes. Apparently, he's just that stupid for this man. He doesn't know what it is about this Lukas guy that has him betraying every single one of his self-preservation rules, but he finds himself breaking them more often than not. Maybe it's that gentle voice that Peter never raises, or the sharp wits and strong build. Perhaps it's the fact that even after a year, Elias hasn't managed to learn any more about him than that.

Peter is a mystery, and Elias is nothing if not curious.

Elias stands in front of Peter, who leans back a little in bed.

"Hell, you are pretty to look at."

Elias only raises his eyebrows. As if he didn't know.

"Come on. A man has to play safe."

"Don't bore me with politics, that's your family’s business."

Though, if he was being honest, the praise did feel good.

Peter smirks. "Take your top off."

"Pardon?"

"You want this, don't you?"

Elias ponders for a moment. Yes, he very much does, even if he's angry. The setting isn't great, so he'll have to work with what he has. He only wishes that Peter weren't so smug about it, because it's making Elias want to make him regret it.

When Elias goes to take it off, Peter tells him that there's no rush. His voice is calm, but the command is clear enough.

Elias takes a deep breath to ground himself and throws the sweatshirt next to Peter. Elias knows that he paints quite a picture even if he isn't ripped or anything; he still has a bit of a tan from his last vacation, and Peter eats it all up: from the eye tattoo on the centre of his stomach, to the tiny studs piercing both his nipples.

"Nice," Peter says.

"I know."

Peter smiles at him and Elias takes note. So he enjoys show offs. Well, good for them both, Elias had never been the shy type.

"Put a hand in your trousers," Peter tells him.

It's clear that Peter wants a show. Elias can sympathise, for he himself enjoys a bit of watching, too.

Elias doesn't get to do it much these days, but whenever the bathrooms are empty, he pulls himself off in front of the mirror. He knows exactly what to do to make it good, and the risk of getting caught has him coming harder and faster than usual.

He slides both hands down his chest and abdomen, keeping one at the waistband of his joggers while the other disappears beneath the fabric and takes hold of himself. He's half-hard and every one of his motions is clear, so he takes his time.

It doesn't feel good at first. The build up has been all wrong, and the fact that his hands are cold and dry doesn't help. But then he takes one look at Peter and the thrill of being watched sparks it all to life.

Peter doesn’t take his eyes off of him; his own hand is working in his trousers. He's big, Elias notes, and the thought has him fully hard in seconds. It doesn’t take long for a wet spot to form on the front of his joggers.

When Peter tells him to stop, Elias obeys, hoping that this is when Peter also has him kneel and put his mouth to work. Instead, Peter asks him to turn around.

"Show me," he demands. "You know how."

Elias slides his trousers down with a sigh. He hears Peter shuffle forward behind him.

Elias would hate it for Peter to miss any details, so he grabs his buttocks and kneads them open, stepping astride to let Peter see it all. Elias a bit damp down there, but he keeps himself shaved as a rule, and that earns him some praise.

"Oh fuck," Peter breathes. "Bend forward a bit."

"Like this?"

Elias doesn't expect an answer. Peter's hand is working fast and from the sound of it, his cock is very wet.

"Yeah, just like that. Put a finger in."

Elias teases, but doesn't. "Can't. Too dry."

Peter curses softly. "Get over here."

Elias is almost shaking with anticipation. He hasn't been eaten out in ages, and he's so here for this.

"You O.K. with spit?" Peter asks.

"Very."

Peter grunts in approval, then spits right onto his hole. Elias lets out a shuddery breath, then slowly works a finger in. It's hard doing it all by himself, and soon his arm gets tired; he flags a bit, lets his head hang.

"You gotta give me something here," he tells Peter. This isn't begging, he tells himself. This is negotiating.

"I know. Fuck."

Elias straightens up and gives Peter a side glance. "Problem?"

"See, usually I don't touch them."

Elias frowns. That's news.

"So you just-"

"I'm not a fan of touching, let's put it that way. And it's enough to just do this. Most of the time, that is."

Elias nods, but there's something to unpack here. "Well, you are turned on. Why isn't it enough?"

Peter's hand, motionless for a while now, withdraws.

"You, I guess."

Elias scoffs. "I'm sorry my asshole isn't to your tastes."

"I haven't tasted you. That's probably why."

Elias has the decency to blush. His heart has never beat so fast with anyone before, but he tells it to get a grip.

"Well I'm right here, aren't I."

Peter takes a deep breath. Elias can almost see the moment that his resolve locks into place.

"C'mere."

Peter doesn't go straight for it. He places both hands on Elias' hips and caresses his sides, making Elias aware of him (as if he isn't already). The act makes goosebumps rise on the skin, and Elias’ cock fills out again.

Peter kisses the low of his back and up his spine, where he can reach from a sitting position; then his cheeks, against which his shallow beard feels rough. Peter sinks his teeth into them, just enough to make it twinge. Just enough to make Elias' cock twitch and invite a hand to wrap around it.

Peter takes his sweet time biting his ass and pulling him off. Elias is ready to drive nails by the time Peter finally makes him bend forward and starts working on his hole. If Elias moans and pushes against his tongue, well, he's only human.

For someone who doesn't like touching, Peter is surprisingly good at this. Instinct or perhaps patience makes him into quite an attentive partner; he'll stick to any actions that elicit a more intense reaction from Elias; it isn't long before Elias loses it and reaches behind himself.

"What are you doing?" Peter rasps.

"I need-" Elias breathes, pushing a finger inside. "Keep going."

Peter does; they work together, establishing a rhythm that feels comfortable for them.

Elias will come from this, that is for sure, but it will take a while to get there. His arm keeps getting tired, which forces him to slow down. If Peter would just- If he'd just-

"Come on, come on," Elias whines in frustration. "Fuck me."

Peter grunts, burying his face deeper into his ass. Elias removes his hand and locks it around Peter's nape with a tight fist in his hair.

That's it, he thinks, and pushes Peter’s hand out of the way to give his cock what it actually needs.

Peter pulls back and sticks a finger inside. The girth of it is a perfect stretch, it makes Elias let out a broken curse and come a little just then.

"Shit, you're so hungry for it," Peter says. "Bet if I put my cock in you, you'll come right away."

Elias smiles at the idea. "Wanna bet?"

Peter snorts. "Another day, yeah. Wanna take my time with you."

"It's a date then."

Peter works his finger deeper, finding Elias' sweet spot.

"Here?" he asks, but the soft whimper that Elias lets out leaves no room for doubt.

Elias bears down on it. "Keep doing that. God, just- oh."

Maybe he had underestimated how turned on he was. He comes, sudden, dripping all over Peter's floor. It's so thick and heavy that Elias is somewhat embarrassed.

"Holding back, have we?" Peter observes.

Elias would kill him if he wasn't thrusting inside him so good.

"You would too if you had a schedule like mine."

Peter hums. "Drop by when you feel like it. It'll be my pleasure to help."

Peter pulls his finger out and stands up. Gently, he brings Elias to himself by the hips.

Elias lets him because fuck, Peter is so warm and large...The way he’s kissing Elias’ nape is sending shivers up his spine. Funny though, it’s almost as if Peter is unsure about it.

"First time doing this?" Elias asks. It couldn't be.

"No. But it's been a while."

Elias hums. Peter's cock is pressing against his ass and that’s quite distracting. "Want some help with that?"

Peter groans and rests his forehead on Elias’ shoulder. "Fuck. Can I- can I come on you? I won't put it in, just rub it against you."

Elias would be very much down to taking Peter all the way if he weren’t so spent. He had come here ready for it, anyway. Right now though, he’d have to make do.

"Sure," Elias says. He shuffles onto bed on his knees, spreads his legs and presses his chest to the mattress, to give Peter full view and access.

"Fuck, you don't hold back, do you?"

"Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, love."

Peter doesn't hesitate, only pulls his trousers down, holds Elias by the waist and starts rutting against him.

It feels brilliant even after coming. Elias moans into the mattress, getting off on imagining the picture that they must paint.

Peter taps his hole with the tip of his cock, grazes against it. Elias never would’ve thought that Peter was the cursing type, but tonight is proving otherwise.

When Peter comes, Elias can feel it dripping down his balls and onto bed. They're both breathing heavily, but once Peter recovers, he pulls up his trousers and grabs some tissue to wipe Elias.

Elias had half-hoped that Peter would lick him clean, but maybe that was pushing the boundaries a bit too far for a single night.

Elias gets dressed and they face each other. Peter seems awkward — who would've guessed, when he seemed so in charge earlier.

"So," Peter says. "Hope I made it up to you."

"Are you fishing for compliments, Mr. Lukas?"

Peter laughs and scratches the back of his head.

"If I am, will you tell me?"

Elias considers it. "No. Maybe. Say pretty please."

"Goodbye, Elias."

Peter shows him to the door. They don't kiss; that would be a level of sentimentalism that might make Elias gag. That is, any other time it would have. Now though, they say goodbye and Elias goes back to his room wishing that they did.

#my fic #nanda's ramblings #tma #tma fic #lonelyeyes #lonelyeyes fic #lonelyeyes fanfiction #jonah magnus #peter lukas #elias bouchard #peterelias

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emu-lumberjack · 4 years

Text

Don’t Answer the Phone Tired pt. 2

It’s the next day and Damian has gotten even less sleep, thankfully he’s not too tired after a some surprise news shocks him awake.

———————————-

Hey guys here’s the sequel everyone was super excited for. I really hope y'all like it, I definitely wrote it tired, but it should be coherent.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

Read part 4 here

Read part 5 here

He really needed coffee, especially after dealing with his brothers after they found out about Marinette. The youngest Wayne was up till four yelling at them to lay off, among more colorful terms, everyone time they called. He would’ve just ignored them but he knew that ignoring them would just wind up with him getting a surprise visit sooner than later. The fresh Parisian air felt good against his face as he stood on his balcony.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair!” Marinette's voice called from the street.

“Only if the prince is willing to protect me from my aggravating brothers!” He cracked a smile as he shouted back.

“Alas I cannot do that, but would my damsel take this as a reward?” She held up a purple travel mug and a bag filled with a croissant.

“I think I could take that deal. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He ran inside to grab his bag and throw on some day clothes before meeting Marinette.

“Have I mentioned you’re the best girlfriend? Because you’re the best girlfriend.” Damian said walking up to Marinette.

“You could stand to mention it more.” The bluenette replied handing him his promised coffee and croissant. He gulped down the coffee barely taking a breath until Marinette laughed and said, “Slow down there, you won't have any time to savor any of it.”

“If you want to stay up late dealing with my brothers, please be my guest but if not,” He gestured with his cup, “I’m gonna drink as fast as I want to.” Marinette nodded to that.

“Was it that bad last night after you left?”

“By bad do you mean each one of was trying to call me every five minutes out of ‘concern’ for my health or to check to make sure I hadn’t kidnapped you.” Marinette laughed again. “Anyway if I didn’t talk to them at all they probably would’ve hopped on the first flight they could to see what’s going on.” They stopped at the light, when Damian turned to look at Marinette he noticed she was avoiding his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my brothers. Would you Angel?”

“Well, I might have gotten a text from Aurore to keep you away from school because three older guys had come and were asking around for you. One of them was half asleep and she couldn’t figure out how he was functional.”

Damian paled, after a moment he said “And why then are we going to school, I personally want to get as far away from them as possible.”

“She sent me a follow up saying to get there as fast as possible. Lila told her lie in front of the wrong person and, well I’ll show you the video.” Marinette handed her phone to Damian who hit play on the video that was up.

The forms of Grayson, Todd and Drake half asleep leaning on Jason. A voice came from off screen saying,

“Girl I can’t believe Tim’s not taking you to the Wayne Gala.” Alya, Damian thought. She was beginning to walk into frame with someone else. He knew who she was before she spoke.

“I know right. It’s just why would he invite someone else!” There in all her demonic glory stood Lila Rossi, not yet realising who she was walking next to.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you talking about Tim Drake? Adopted son of Bruce Wayne?” Grayson asked innocently. Damian knew that voice, it was the same one he used when he was going to demolish someone. “Well yeah. He’s her boyfriend, who are you anyway? Why do you care?” Alya was immediately there to be Lila’s guard dog.

“Well my name is Richard Grayson-Wayne. Tim’s brother and Bruce's son. I care because unless he’s as good at keeping secrets as Damian is, which he’s not, then he isn’t dating this girl.” Alya paled, the camera zoomed in on Lila’s face. She looked like she was about to be sick

“Huh? I heard my name.” Drake, who was in a rare moment of lucidness, looked at Dick.

“Are you pulling a Damian and secretly dating a girl in France?” Todd still Drake’s support was glaring at Lila.

“What?! Are you kidding me? No!” Drake looked like he was just hit with a cement slab.

“What are you talking about obviously you’re dating Lila! Stop Lying! I bet you're not even the real Tim Drake.” Alya was shouting now drawing crowds from around the courtyard. Drake looked at Grayson confused.

“She does realize that we can sue her if she’s really telling these types of lies right? Like she can’t be doing that.” Tim stood in front of Dick and turned his back to the paled liar and fuming reporter

“Oh leave Lila alone!” Alya came towards Drake and shoved him into Grayson.

“That does it.” Todd who had moved off to the side started walking towards the brunette rolling up his sleeves. Grayson and Todd recovered quickly, and moved to hold Todd back.

“We should get there before Todd kills them.” He said calmly before handing the phone back to Marinette. “Otherwise we won’t be able to take her down ourselves.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

In no time the duo were walking up the steps of Françoise Dupont where the sounds of shouts could be heard. The scene they entered was somehow more chaotic then the one Aurore had sent in the video. Todd was hanging upside down, the rope leading up around the handrails on the second floor then back down to a corner of the courtyard. Drake was on the bench snoring softly with his head almost touching the floor. Dick was on the phone, presumably with some lawyers. The entire bottom courtyard of the school was littered with papers and balloons were strewn about. Lila was nowhere to be seen.

“It looks like they’ve taken care of the situation, and they haven’t spotted us yet so I’m just gonna…” Damian began.

“There he is! Demonspawn, finally I thought you’d never get here.” Jason interrupted. He had spun around and caught sight of Damian and Marinette walking in. Dick turned around at the sound of Jason’s voice before saying “Yeah Duke I’ll have to call you back, but we need to sort this Lila stuff out.” He put his phone away before walking over to a corner of the building where he took out his knife and slashed a piece of rope. Jason came crashing down.

“A little warning next time Dick.” Jason said brushing off some dust that had settled on his tan leather jacket. Each one of them were dressed in their civilian clothing. Dick had on a pair of blue jeans with a grey t-shirt paired with some black sneakers. Jason was wearing his usual jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket combo. Drake was in some weird form of pajama and day clothes mixing a graphic T-shirt and red flannel with grey sweatpants and slippers.

“Now I know that we have to be dreaming. Demonspawn is actually wearing a sweatshirt. I don’t even think Alfred could get him to do that.” Damian had run out once he heard Marinette’s voice that morning so he had just thrown on a pair of pants, a shirt and a sweatshirt barely thinking about it. He had become relaxed in Paris.

“What the hell are you guys doing here.” Damian’s face was quickly beginning to match a tomato in color and he was backing out of the entryway.

“Well obviously we had to come and see you, and meet your girlfriend.” Dick who had walked over to Marinette grabbed her hand and shook it. “My name’s Dick, the grumbling menace over there is Jason. The one currently passed out is Tim, nice to meet you, uh”

“Marinette.” She supplied. “I also have to thank you for taking care of a certain person, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of her for a year.”

“Oh it was no problem at all, especially after she claimed she was dating Tim.” Damian quickly interrupted the two with a few well placed coughs. “I don’t mean to cut this short Grayson but we have to be getting to class.”

“Oh don’t worry. Bruce already called you out for the day, and Marinette I’m sure you can miss one day of school.” Jason said walking up behind Marinette.

“As much as I’d love to, I have two tests today. I’ll be happy to meet up with you afterwards though.” Damian’s eyes widened as the words sunk in and he realized what that meant for him.

“Please don’t leave me alone with them.” He looked at Marinette pleadingly.

“You’re gonna have to tell us how you got him to say please, it took Alfred a month to do that.” Jason remarked.

“Maybe another time, now I’ve gotta get to class.” She gave one look at Damian and there was laughter in her eyes.

“I hate you.” He said.

“No you don’t.” She called back, disappearing around the corner.

“So how bout we wake up Timmy and go get breakfast. I for one am famished.” Jason came up and put a hand on Damians shoulder.

“Ya know that doesn’t sound so bad Jason. Then Damian can tell us all about Paris, and the people he’s met.” Dick stood in front of Damians glare gleefully looking at Jason.

“I will kill you both and Father will never be able to find your bodies.”

“Yeah but then Marinette will be disappointed. For some reason she gives off the ‘thou shall not kill’ vibe.” Grayson said. “Now how are we gonna wake Tim up.”

“Oh I’ll take care of it.” Damian said grabbing his Ice filled water bottle.

Tag List:

@ur-average-reader @kristycocopop @k-laconia-bug1 @smolplantmum @dast218 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @g-arya @loysydark @mewwitch @itsemeanne @hauntedstudent99 @clumsy-owl-4178

#Maribat #Damianette #damienette #marinette x damian #marinette dupain-cheng #Lila salt #alya salt

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aperrywilliams · 4 years

Text

The Right Moment (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Summary: Love confessions doesn't count in Spencer’s strengths. Don't you think?

Word Count: 5010.

Warnings: Curses… is so soft anyway. Fluff.

A/N: I’m so happy. This is my first fic with a beta, so y’all will not suffer with my all writing mistakes of before ones. All the love to the great @imagining-in-the-margins

——————–

The first time I saw (Y/N), I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for a few seconds. I could have counted the exact time, but I was so focused on looking at her that I only realized it when I was almost choking on my own breathlessness.

We were all in the conference room waiting for Prentiss to review a new case. She had already notified us a new member would be joining the team, which was a relief considering the amount of cases was getting quite heavy. Even just one more member could be of great help. When the two of them entered the room and Emily began to speak, I lifted my head from the file in front of me.

"Guys, this is the SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is joining our team since today. (Y/N), meet the SSA Luke Alvez, SSA Tara Lewis, SSA Jennifer Jareau, SSA David Rossi and Dr. Spencer Reid".

Everyone gave their welcome words except me, of course, given my edginess. I just nodded my head in greeting without saying a word. She waved back and quickly sat down to begin reviewing the case.

I couldn't say exactly what was the first thing about (Y/N) that I fell in love with. Perhaps it was her appearance as a determined woman, confident, intelligent, friendly, and very nice. She looked like those kinds of people who are able to fill a room with their mere presence. It wasn't long before my hypotheses about her were confirmed. Indeed, the entire team loved her immediately. She was the first person to say hello to Penelope in the mornings. She teased Luke as she passed by his desk, and bonded quickly and closely with JJ, Tara, and Emily. Rossi loved her too, especially at dinners at his house, where (Y/N) was always the first to compliment the chef.

And me? Well, it wasn't long until we became best friends. She was one of the few people who didn't bother or interrupt my ramblings. There were many times we had to make geographical profiles and visit crime scenes together; clearly not very romantic things. But the time we spent together was growing both inside and outside work. In our rare free time, we would go for a walk or watch a series sitting on the couch at her place or mine.

Those were the moments where I felt I fell more and more in love with her. For a long time, I tried to push those thoughts away by telling myself that it was something platonic, that it was the attraction of someone with a very different personality than mine. I tried to convince myself that eventually, the infatuation would pass and our friendship would persist. But seeing how the months passed and the feeling didn’t subside, I began to sink into despair within myself. I tried not to feed myself any hope.

(Y/N) was leading her life very well and I fit perfectly as the best friend – just that. Someone to trust and a shoulder to cry on. I tried to convince myself having her around was more than enough for me, even if there was no romantic interest from her.

"Do you know what it’s called? The Friendzone." Emily said to me one day after I had to confess my feelings towards (Y/N) to someone. A somewhat forced confession, since the whole team knew it already without me saying a word. It sure was printed on all my face.

"Whatever your name it, I’ll never get out of there". I replied with a shrug.

"But why don't you tell her? You should be honest with her about this, Spencer. You’re friends. You trust each other, right?" Emily inquired, trying to awaken some courage in me to express my feelings to the woman herself.

"Tell her? No, of course not. Our relationship would become weird. I don't want that.” I replied with a shake my head.

"How do you know if isn’t mutual? You two spend a lot of time together, and I've seen how you seeing each other. Maybe she also likes you." Emily was a very good FBI agent, but not the best cupid. There was no point in what she was saying to me. Friends can also spend a lot of time together. That doesn't mean anything.

"Of course it is not reciprocal! Two days ago, she told me she had a date with Tim Robertson from Organized Crime and she was 'excited.'” I emphasized the word ‘excited’ by making the quotes marks with my fingers.

"Uh-oh" she replied with that 'oh poor boy' look. “Spencer, eventually you’ll have to do something. Love is not going to disappear spontaneously.”

I only took a deep breath and drop the subject, but I kept thinking about Prentiss’ words. Was I meant to be the eternal friend? Statistics were not on my side: Studies show that if a man over 30 invites his female friend to dinner on a weekend, only 40% of women will likely consider it a date. But if the invitation is made by a non-friend male, the odds increase to 85%. If a woman is the one inviting her male friend, she is more likely he considered it as romantic date, because men are more frequently to consider everything as a date. Conclusion: I have no chance.

I felt more defeated when (Y/N) told me one day that she was now regularly dating Robertson. The boldest thing I asked her was if she liked him. She confessed to me it was ‘very likely.’

As the weeks passed, the cases came and were resolved. (Y/N) didn't spend as much time with me outside of work anymore. She had a formal relationship with the... guy... from Organized Crime. At this point not even the 'friendzone' comforted me, because I also felt I was losing my friend. What did that lead me to? Frustration. Anger. Introversion. Everything very Spencer Reid style.

One day flying back from a case, (Y/N) sat at the front of me and looked at me with concern, as I plunged into a book.

"Spencer, is something wrong?" she asked, leaning down and resting her hands on the table between us.

"Uhm? No. I'm fine." I replied, barely looking at her.

"Spencer, I know you..."

Oh, how I hate people think I’m an open book and everyone feel free to say they know me!... Even if they are right! For God’s sake!

"Are you upset with me?... You have barely spoken to me these days and we haven't sat down to talk for a long time..." She said, taking the book I had in my hands and laying it on the table. Thus, I was forced to look at her.

"No. I'm fine. Totally fine. And if we haven't talked for a long time, it's because you're apparently very busy…” My last comment wasn't very nice, but I couldn't help it.

"Oh, I see." I took my book again and opened it to resume my reading. "You’re jealous of my relationship with Robertson." She stated seriously.

What? Did she know it too? Had the pilot been told, too?

"No. Of course not. Where do you get that from? You can do whatever you please with your life…” I said with the greatest calm that my boiling blood running in my body allowed me.

“You're jealous because I don't spend time with you outside of work anymore. Spencer, honey, you’ll always be a priority for me. It's just I have less time now, you know? We're just starting something, Tim and I. But I promise not to be one of those women glued to my partner all the time and neglecting my friends". (Y/N) ended her statement by gently stroking my hand over the book I was still holding. I felt relief and defeat at the same time. Clearly, it didn't feel better.

But (Y/N) was genuine to her word. Indeed, she looked for a way to adjust her time with him so we could return to some movie nights on the couch and occasional walks in the park. It felt good to at least fit into her life again. Of course, this had a flip side: knowing how her relationship with Tim Robertson worked, or not. The guy showed clear narcissistic features and although (Y/N) seemed to be aware of that - as the good profiler she was - her infatuation clouded her judgment. I couldn't blame her, either. I just tried to be gentle in my criticisms, but I saw how easily she dismissed them by always excusing him.

One night I was lying on the couch reading. It was close to 2 am when I heard two knocks on the door and a loud sob. I quickly got up to open the door and saw (Y/N) standing in front of me, crying. When she saw me, she threw herself into my arms and cried harder.

"I knew you would be awake..." She murmured with her head buried in my chest. I helped her into the apartment and sat her on the couch.

"Hey, what happened?". I asked in a soft voice so as not to disturb her more than she already was.

"I broke up with Tim..."

And here I was, with my shoulder ready to contain her tears. (Y/N) clung to my neck sobbing and cursing at the same time. It wasn’t the first time I had to witness a love breakup from (Y/N). As I said before, I was her best friend, and that forced me to know things that I often didn't want to hear, but it was only fair. She also was there for me many times. I had also cried on her shoulder and cursed - a bit - at situations that overwhelmed me.

I tried to comfort her by hugging and stroking her back. The sobs subsided over time, and eventually she fell asleep. I tucked some pillows under her head and covered with a blanket. I sat for a moment to watch her while she slept. I would have done anything not to see her this sad. She didn't deserve to be hurt by an idiot like Robertson. She deserved someone who truly loved her, unconditionally. Someone she could trust, who could be always there for her, who made her laugh and comforted her when she was sad.

She needed someone... like me?

I know, it sounds not so humble. But I would be all that for her and more if necessary. Maybe Prentiss was right. Maybe I should be honest and tell her about my feelings. At least I could know if I'd ever have a chance. Well, I would have to try. Here the results.

First Attempt

The next morning I woke up smelling a pleasant scent from the kitchen: freshly brewed coffee. I got up, rubbing my eyes before I saw (Y/N) making breakfast.

"Good Morning. Breakfast is ready!” She gave me a warm smile.

"Hey... you didn't have to bother with breakfast." I replied in a raspy voice due to the disuse as I slept. "How do you feel?" I hastened to ask.

"Like I broke up with my boyfriend. But it's okay. It'll okay.” (Y/N) said, giving a deep sigh. I approached the counter where she was while she passed me two plates ready with pancakes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, placing the plates on the table and sitting in one of the chairs. She got two mugs with coffee and sat across from me.

"The usual; men who end up being assholes. The initial spark’s gone. The end.” She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "You know my taste in men follows an evident pattern, right?" (Y/N) stated with a sad smile.

"Maybe you need to double check your parameters and change it..." I said, testing the waters before I dove in. I didn't know what kind of reaction to expect, but she burst out laughing.

"I've thought about it – don't think I don’t. But bad habits are persistent.” She answered me as she cut her pancakes before popping a piece in her mouth.

"You could try at least..." Bringing out a confidence I thought I didn't have, I dared to take her hand over the table. She looked at me curiously.

"Do you think so? I honestly think I’m meant to be a total failure in love, always.” She told me with a grimace.

“I think you need a guy who understands you. A guy that’s there for you when you need him. Someone you can trust…” I didn’t know whether to persist with the description so as not to sound... too self-referential?

“But that's what I have you for, Spence. You are all that to me. That's why you are my best friend.” She said, squeezing my hand and smiling at me. I held my breath for a second and tried to continue.

"Perhaps... I could be more than that, more than a just..." I couldn't finish my idea because our phones started ringing. We had a case. End of conversation.

Fate: 1, Reid: 0.

Second Attempt

After a hard case that had us seconds from emotional overflow, Penelope had the wonderful idea we should go to a bar to 'drown' our frustrations. Hanging out with the team is always a good thing, although the idea of a bar never seemed entirely appealing to me.

Of course, I usually ended up being the designated driver since my alcohol consumption was minimal or nil. That night was no exception. Sitting with Rossi and Luke, I heard them talk about their love experiences as I watched the dance floor where Emily, Penelope, Tara and (Y/N), with high levels of alcohol in their blood, danced as if the world were to end in that moment. Rossi and Luke’s voices sounded distant to me. I could only focus on how (Y/N) moved on the dance floor and how I wished I could touch her... and kiss her... and...

"Reid? Reid!" Luke's voice brought me out of my fantasy. Not even in my own mind could I have in peace! Not even a single damn fantasy with (Y/N).

"Uhm?" I replied by inertia.

"I was asking you if you agreed with what Rossi said..." He asked. I wasn't even listening.

"Eh. Yeah. Sure. He has more experience… in everything.” I guess that answer was enough for the moment. "I'm going to get something else to drink". I said, getting up and walking to the bar. On my way I looked again to (Y/N), who kept dancing sensually with the others.

My emotional and sexual frustration by now was killing me. I gestured to the bartender for another soda. Focused on my own misery I didn't realize when (Y/N) gave me a gentle knock in the ribs with an elbow.

“Hey Reid! Don't tell me you're going to drink alcohol…”. (Y/N) joked.

"No, just a soda. You know I'm the designated driver today…” I replied as I nervously tapped the surface of the bar with my fingers. (Y/N) in her obviously drunken state suddenly hung her arms around my neck.

“Sorry Reid, always… always… you end up being our watchman. You can't even have some funnnnn…” She sighed, resting her head on my chest.

"It's okay. Seeing you all drunk to the bone can also be some fun.”. I replied, daring to take her waist to prevent her from slipping to the floor. She sighed again.

"I think... I don't feel okay... oh my… I'm feeling drowned… Spencer, I feel sick… I’m very dizzy … I feel like… ”

"Come, let's go out for some air. That’ll make you feel better."

We left through one of the back doors of the bar. Once outside, the fresh air made (Y/N) feel somewhat more restored. "Better?" I asked her.

"Yeah… I guess. But despite how drunk I’m… because I know… I’m soooo drunk… It isn’t pleasant to see that couple fucking on that wall...".I looked in the direction of her finger pointing a wall and the couple there didn't even bother acknowledging our presence. I must say some envy awoke in me. I took (Y/N)'s hand and led her further away from the alley before I pointed to the sidewalk and we sat down.

"Now we don't have to look at them." I told her. (Y/N) nodded. Breathing more coolly, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and smiled.

"Thanks Spencer. I don't know why you have such patience with me…” Oh boy. The emotional moment of (Y/N). Despite that, my love didn’t give up even a single millimeter.

"You don’t have to thank me. That's why we’re… friends, right?” I replied, barely outlining a smile.

"Yes. But… I don't know… you are always beyond that… I feel like I don't deserve you Spencer…” Her sobs began to mix with hiccups.

“For you (Y/N), I’ll do everything I can. Always”. I said it in a sincere tone. I never expected after having said that, that she would throw herself towards me and start kissing me. After the initial stun, my head began to wonder if that was okay.

Her drunken state told me that it was wrong, but it felt so good to have her lips on mine - ignoring the smell of alcohol, of course. It only lasted a few seconds. She pulled away quickly, as if a wave of sobriety hit her abruptly.

"Sorry! ... Spencer, I’m sorry!... I didn't want..." She started to stutter and cry at the same time.

"Hey, no... don't apologize. It’s okay…” I tried to calm her down.

"I don’t know what happened... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable..." She kept stammering, hiccupping and waving her hands in the air.

"It’s okay (Y/N), I don’t feel uncomfortable... Matter of fact, it’s the opposite." I was going to tell her; I couldn't take it anymore.

"No?..." Her confused face in another context would have made me laugh, but in that moment I was too busy being nervousing about confessing my love to a drunk woman.

"Well…". I took her hands and started stroking them gently. "For a long time I wanted to tell you... and I know we are friends, but I would like..." I had to clear my throat again. "What I mean (Y/N), is I love..."

Unable to finish the sentence, (Y/N) suddenly leaned into my lap, letting out an explosive puke on me. A second followed... and then a third.

The next day all she remembered was the dance floor, and the fact she emptied her stomach on me.

Third Attempt

I hate cases where unsubs try to escape. That always means a chase, and dramatically increases the probability of someone getting hurt. It was in Alabama, and the unsub had hidden himself in a barn. (Y/N) and I stepped in with our flashlights and weapons in search of him. J.J. and Luke were in the backup group.

What we didn’t expect was the bastard climbing onto an attic with his gun pointed at us. When I lit up his face with my flashlight and pointed at him with my gun, I only managed to shout "Stop! FBI!” before I heard a shot in my direction.

I felt a burning and intense pain near my face before falling to the floor. With another shot, (Y/N) struck him in the chest and the unsub fell to the floor.

Oh God, my body hurt a lot. I felt the blood run down my shoulder. The bastard had shot me in the neck! I was going to die in a filthy barn and without having ever declared my love to (Y/N). She quickly knelt down and tried to locate the source of the blood, pressing her hand to my wound.

"We need medics here!" She yelled frantically. I felt dizzy, and (Y/N)’s voice was further and further away.

Was I really going to die there? At least if that was going to happen, I had to tell her. "(Y/N) ..." I said to get her attention.

“No, no… no… don't speak Spencer, keep your eyes open, but don't speak. The paramedics are coming. Come on, squeeze my hand!"

"I have to tell...".I tried to speak but between the dizziness and the pain, I had trouble articulating words.

"Spencer, please. Listen to me. You're going to be fine… everything will be okay.” She tried to reassure me.

"I... love you..." I managed to say, trying to look her in the eye. She looked at me tenderly.

I said it! I said it! I could die in peace now, couldn’t I?

"Spencer, honey..." She said while stroking my hair. I closed my eyes and the paramedics came to check me. One of them asked (Y/N) what happened and how I was doing. She summed up the incident and finished off by saying between sobs, “Please do something. He is dying. He even started to rave."

Fuck!

Then I fell passed out and I don't remember anything else.

The Summary

I could keep on listing the times when I tried to tell her. None of them seemed to be the right moment. And when it did seem to be, something happened. Destiny definitely didn’t want my confession to come to light. So okay, I thought, maybe I should just keep it to myself forever.

One morning, I stepped in the conference room with my usual coffee in hand. There were Luke, Emily, Penelope, Tara, JJ and (Y/N). The conversation was about the latest BAU girls' night. I sat down, taking one of the files settled on the table and starting to leaf through it.

"No! In defense of (Y/N), I must say she was as calm as we were at the table when the guy approached to her.” Tara said.

"Ah, so there was no flirting?" Luke asked.

"Hey! Who do you think I am, Luke? We were there for girls' night, not to catch lovers." (Y/N) replied laughing.

"Of course, they didn't stop looking at each other all night..." Stated JJ with a giggle.

"No JJ! I don't know who you were looking at, but it wasn't me." (Y/N) defended herself. The conversation was inherently awkward for me at that point. I silently didn’t take my eyes off the file in my hands.

"Well, even if she did it, (Y/N) is a free woman and could have run away with whoever she wanted, right?" Luke had a point and that made my blood boil. I'm sure Prentiss noticed.

"Okay, but nothing happened in the end. The guy left and we kept drinking. And here we are, safe and sound.” Prentiss summarized, trying to end the conversation. My hands were sweating, and I looked sideways at (Y/N) who was giggling nervously. Prentiss was probably lying just because I was there.

“Oh yeah, but just before leaving he slipped you a piece of paper with his phone number. I'm sure you saved it in your contacts and called him later!” Penelope said directly to (Y/N), who didn't say anything back. Okay. I was fed up. This conversation had to end at that very moment. I closed the file and dropped it on the table with all the force of my frustration. I got up from the chair, clenching my fists and saying "Enough!" with my jaw clenched. Everyone in the room froze and stared at me in astonishment. Prentiss was the first to react.

"Okay, Luke, Tara, JJ Penelope... to my office. Now." Emily quickly left the room and the rest following her almost instantly. (Y/N) looked confused as the group left, then fixed her eyes on me.

"Spencer?... what's going on ?"

In silence, I closed the door of the room and leaned my back on it, crossing my arms over my chest looking at (Y/N). "You okay?"

"Not. I'm not okay. This is driving me insane.” I said, uncrossing my arms and scratching the back of my neck.

"Tell me, what's going on? Maybe I can help..." (Y/N) tried to get up from the chair to approach me.

"Just don't say anything, okay? I just need you to listen to me, and I need no one and nothing to interrupt me this time.” Just as a precaution I locked the door. (Y/N) opened her eyes with concern.

"Spencer, you're scaring me..." I just stared at her as she remembered I told her not to speak. "I’m sorry..."

“I'm going to start at the end, to make sure you hear it well. Okay?” I cleared my throat and continued speaking. “I love you (Y/N), I've loved you since practically the first day that you walked through this same door with Emily. And no, this goes beyond our friendship. Of course, I love being your friend. But that is no longer enough for me. Every time I see a man in your life, I feel something burning inside me. It hurts me deeply to see you suffer for some idiot who doesn't deserve you. I can’t take it anymore. I tried to tell you so many times, I think I’ve lost count. But if you never even considered the possibility, then I can't do anything else.

You don't even remember that you kissed me outside a bar! When I told you that I loved you while almost dying in a dirty barn, you thought I was delusional! Every time... every single time I thought I gave you signs, you either didn't see them or you didn't care. I don't know what hurts me the most, your blindness or your indifference. You’re a profiler like me! How is it possible that you never…? Damn it (Y/N)! The thing is, I can't live with this stuck inside me anymore. And I'm sorry if telling you all this ends up ruining our friendship, but not being honest with you seems so much worse now. And... and... since I told you this, I think you can go on with your day... Goodbye".

I pulled the lock and opened the door to leave the room. After my confession/outburst, I didn't even dare make eye contact with (Y/N). I was about to cross the threshold when one of (Y/N) 's hands slammed it shut again. I turned around and (Y/N)'s arms wrapped around my neck before she lifted on her feet and collapsed her lips against mine. My first reaction was to raise my hands and smash my back against the door. Stupid reaction, I don't even know why I did it.

That didn't stop (Y/N), who gripped my hair to keep our mouths together. Realizing what was happening, I took her by the waist and brought her as close as possible to me, emptying all my accumulated frustration into that kiss. I don't know how long we were like this.

Okay, yeah, I really do know. It was 2 minutes and 45 seconds. After that time, we both pulled away because we could hardly breathe.

"Wow... (Y/N)... what ...?" I tried to articulate some coherent phrase, but nothing else came out.

"Now you are going to listen to me." She said as she began to play with my tie between her fingers. “First of all: neither blindness nor indifference. Denial only. Spencer... I'm clear on all the times you tried to tell me. Really, even before I broke up with Robertson. Since the time we talked on the jet and I asked you if you were mad at me. I just wanted to deny it all this time. It’s stupid, I know, but I didn't want to hurt you. I was scared I would hurt you if I crossed that border of our friendship. And yes, I also remember the night at the bar. And when you got shot in the barn. I must insist, it was all to deny myself the possibility.

And here comes the second: I did it because I... I love you too. I have for a long time. Why didn't I do anything about it...? Well, it’s kind absurd now I think about it. I did nothing because I was afraid of ruining it. All my relationships end in disaster and I didn’t want that to happen to you. And if that meant locking myself out of the possibility of going further, I was willing to do that so I wouldn’t lose you…”

This time it was I who connected my lips with hers. It felt so good, so soft, and so warm. Not even my best dreams could compare to it. When we pulled back to catch our breath, we looked at each other and started talking at the same time.

"I’m so sorry Spencer... I never wanted you to feel like this..."

"I was waiting for the right moment..."

"If I knew how to compensate you for this..."

"(Y/N), if I had known..."

“What the hell Spencer, why we are so bad at our job…”

"We are the worst ... we should resign..." We both started laughing.

"Come here, Reid." She said, taking one of my hands and pulling me into a hug. "Could you forgive me for making you suffer all this time?"

She didn't need to ask me that. I would do anything for her.

"I let you puke on me... 3 times in one night. I think that exceeds all tolerance limits on my part, don't you think?"

She started to laugh, stifling the noise on my chest. It felt so good to have her this close, to be able to touch her.

"I love you (Y/N), so much." I said, stroking her cheeks and looking at her almost without blinking.

"I love you too Spencer. My friend, my partner… and now, my lover.” She replied, winking at me.

"Hey, that last one you still owe me... with interest due to all the time that’s already passed."

"Don’t worry, honey, you just have to hold on for a few more hours, and I assure you that we will catch up quickly".

———————

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Satisfied, Part 27

First

~~~

She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she stared at the blank message box.

“You know, most of the time people don’t apologize over text,” said Jason.

“I know that!” She muttered irritably. She turned off her phone and left it to rest on her stomach. “But what do I say?”

“Probably something like ‘Can we talk?’“ He offered.

“That kinda thing usually causes anxiety.”

He grinned. “Maybe in relationships.”

“And maybe in friendships,” Marinette countered.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re stalling.”

“Shut up!” She sighed and closed her eyes.

Could she just go over to see Chloe an apologize? Would she still be upset with her? And, if she didn’t want to talk, what would Marinette do? If she did want to talk, what would she do? Should she make it up to her? How? Chloe could have pretty much anything she wanted, what could a random girl do for her?

She felt Jason pull her into his side and managed a grin.

“How obvious is it that I’m freaking out?”

“Just a bit,” he teased.

She laughed quietly and picked up her phone again, staring at the message box for a bit before beginning to type.

Definitelyforgottosleep: hey do you wanna do something tomorrow

While Chloe had read the message almost instantly, there was no response for a good minute.

Queenbee: Sure where

Ah. She hadn’t genuinely thought she’d get this far. She closed her eyes. What did Chloe like? Shopping? She seemed the type who’d like shopping. But did she?

Definitelyforgottosleep: shopping

Queenbee: Sounds good

She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. Then, she glanced at Jason.

Definitelyforgottosleep: can i bring someone

Queenbee: Sure I don’t care

She opened her mouth --.

“Nope. Not going.”

She groaned. “Why not?”

“Because I think this is something you should do yourself,” he said simply.

Marinette closed her eyes for a minute. “Where’s Dick? I could probably guilt him into coming.”

Jason must have agreed, because he sent her a glare. “I’m not taking you back to his room.”

“I’ll find him myself if I have to.”

He scoffed. “You’d get lost so quick.”

She batted her eyelashes. “That’s why I wanted you to take me. You wouldn’t let your little sister get lost, would you?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh, so now you pull the ‘little sister’ card?”

She only gave him a cheeky grin in return.

And, so, the next day she and Dick found themselves waiting outside the mall. She smiled at all the Halloween decorations, reaching out to poke a giant inflatable ghost.

“Do you not have Halloween in France?”

“No, we do, it’s just not as big a deal.” She grinned. “Do you guys really have Halloween in Gotham? You’d think that you’d avoid letting more people run around in masks.”

He gave a small shrug. “Halloween is Halloween, it’d probably happen even if someone tried to ban it. The bats just end up working a lot harder that night.”

She nodded her understanding. Her eyes slipped past him to where she spotted Chloe approaching, who looked about as anxious as she felt.

“Heeeeey,” she said awkwardly.

She glanced at back at Dick and swore in French when she realized he had retreated back a few steps. She shot him a glare as he made a small motion with his hands as if to say ‘go on and say it’.

Marinette took a deep breath and turned back to the girl.

“I’m sorry about treating you so horribly recently. You’ve been extremely nice to me and I’ve only been rude in return.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m not a great person, I have my issues. I’m trying to work through them. It’s not fair of me to take that out on you.”

“That’s why you invited me out?”

She seemed... disappointed.

Marinette hesitated. “Partially. I really did want to apologize, but I realized I kinda judged you without really knowing anything about you.”

“I wasn’t a great person to you, either, Marinette.”

“Maybe, but I shouldn’t have kept being rude to you once I realized you’d changed.”

“When did you...?”

A blush flooded her skin. “I... noticed back when you ‘found out’ about me. The old Chloe would have used it for blackmail or something but you didn’t. But I wasn’t ready to change.”

Chloe frowned. “And are you ready now?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I hope so. I’m trying.”

The girl considered this for a bit, her head tipped to the side with an odd expression on her face. After a while she seemed to come to a decision.

“Hi! I’m Chloe Bourgeois. It’s nice to meet you!”

Marinette blinked and glanced behind her, but there wasn’t anyone there. She looked back at Chloe and stared at her outstretched hand. She was talking to her. It was an offer, she realized. A chance at a new start.

She took her hand.

“It’s... it’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Marinette.”

With the agreement obviously made, Dick walked back over.

Marinette stepped back so they could shake hands. “Alright. Chloe, this is Dick and --.”

"Isn’t that a little bit rude?” Said Chloe, her eyes wide.

“Nope, that’s my name,” said Dick.

“I am... so sorry.”

Marinette snickered. “His name is actually Richard. Apparently they shorten that to Dick here.”

Chloe looked incredulous. “Why?”

Dick shrugged, then glanced Chloe up and down with a slight frown forming on his face. “I know you.”

“You do?”

He nodded slightly and scratched the back of his head. “Definitely... so where...?”

Marinette paled a little bit. With all her anxiety about making sure this went well, she’d forgotten that Dick had done research on Ladybug to try and figure out her identity. There was a high likelihood that he knew that Chloe was Queen Bee, and knowing her would be pretty damning.

“Don’t all rich people kind of know each other?” She said, her face stretching into a tense grin.

Dick gave a small nod. “I guess...” He said, though he didn’t really look like he believed it.

She grabbed both of them by their sleeves. “C’moooon. It’s cold out, we can at least do this inside.”

Shopping with rich people was... weird. You have to be careful what you say. She would say a dress in the window was 'kinda cute’ and they would have their credit cards out in seconds.

One time, when Chloe had seen a store with a lot of outfits in a style she liked, Marinette had been forced to physically drag her away from the counter before she attempted to buy the entire store (not from buying all the outfits in the store, but the store itself). Dick had been no help, just calmly watching on and occasionally throwing in a ‘well, the outfits are cute’ whenever Chloe seemed to be calming down.

Of course, then they had to physically drag Marinette out of the fabric store.

“No working,” insisted Chloe.

She huffed. “But I only have, like, three months left! That’s not nearly enough time!”

“Mom said that four months is perfectly enough time for two outfits.”

Marinette rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “And it is, but, uh... I may be doing six.”

Chloe stared at her in horror. Fair enough.

Then, Dick laughed. “No wonder you and Tim get along so well.”

All she could do was smile sheepishly. This smile quickly morphed into terror as Chloe took out of her phone.

“I’m calling my mom. We’re cancelling yours.”

Marinette gasped. “No! You can’t.”

“It’s for your own good, Marinette,” she said, pulling her phone out.

She glanced at Dick for help, but all he did was shrug as if to say ‘she’s got a point’.

“Traitor,” she hissed, before making a mad grab for the phone, only to have it held out of reach. She tugged on Chloe’s arm, throwing her whole weight into it, but there was nothing she could do without compromising her identity in front of Dick.

Huh. So this is what it feels like to be on the other side. Man. This sucks.

After a few seconds of thought, though, she let go. “You can’t keep me from making the outfits. Not really. I’m still going to do them even if you cancel.”

Chloe’s finger hovered over the send button.

“And, when you see the designs, you’ll want to wear them more than whatever you can scrounge up from someone you find within three months. So I’ll make them.”

“You wouldn’t.”

She smiled innocently. “Oh? Try me.”

The two stared each other down, searching for a hint of a bluff, daring them to call it.

Chloe put her phone away with a glare.

Dick grinned. “Definitely see why you and Tim get along so well.”

At Chloe’s request, they walked into a costume store.

Marinette grinned at the new Ladybug outfits, trying to suppress a squeal. Chloe found where she was looking and laughed quietly.

“What?” Asked Dick, following her gaze and narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Crap. She needed an excuse.

“I’m a little bit of a fan,” she ‘admitted’ with a sheepish grin.

Chloe tipped her head to the side as she took in the lie, then smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course she’d be, her ex-bestfriend was obsessed with Ladybug. She had a lot of good stuff on her blog before... Lila.”

They both shuddered. At least they had a little bit of common ground.

“Why don’t you dress up as her for Halloween?” Asked Dick in a tone that was far too innocent. “You look a bit alike, I think it’d be cool.”

Marinette laughed and shook her head. “No, no. It’s like I said, the French don’t really celebrate Halloween, and I’m not that interested in starting in Gotham of all places.”

He gave a quiet huff of annoyance and they continued walking through. Chloe picked up a Heather McNamara outfit and grinned. “Well, Mlle. Designer, what do you think?”

She tipped her head to the side as she thought, then nodded. “That’d be cute. It matches your usual colors, too. I don’t think I can imagine you in anything other than yellow at this point, anyways.”

Chloe stuck her tongue out at her and she returned it. Because they’re both mature adults.

Marinette grinned and picked up a black wig, dropping it on to Chloe’s head despite the girl’s protests. “I say we take her into Wayne Mansion like this and see how long it takes Bruce to adopt her.”

Dick glanced back and gave a short laugh. “She wouldn’t even make it in the door, are you kidding me?”

Chloe blinked a few times, then gasped. “HOLY SHIT YOU’RE A WAYN --?!”

Both of her companions had clamped their hands over her mouth, but it was far too late for that. Now people were staring, and a few were fumbling for their cameras. It certainly didn’t look good, the eldest Wayne child hanging out with two girls who were barely legal.

Dick tossed a wad of cash at the register to pay for Chloe’s outfit and then turned to Marinette.

“Run?”

“Run,” Marinette agreed.

They each grabbed one of Chloe’s arms and booked it.

~~~

Christ. Three hours of work for like ten words. Kill me pls

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#maribat #satisfied #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #timinette #timari

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