#jason wants to through him back in the trash | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iydiamartinx · 1 month ago

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THIS MEANS WAR VIII

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 4.2k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: I'll be honest this wasn't my favourite chapter to write since not much goes on, but I'm thinking of it more like a filler chapter that needed to be written.

UNKNOWN LOCATION

Joker had trashed another one of his safe houses.

The bastard was getting closer—closer to him, and closer to the formula he never should’ve helped create.

With a hollow thud, his head hit the concrete wall behind him. He exhaled hard through his nose, eyes burning with frustration. His pulse roared in his ears, but it wasn’t the fear that gnawed at him—it was the guilt. That relentless, festering guilt.

She’d warned him. Over and over again, she warned him that the nature of his unethical research would have consequences. And God, was hindsight a bitch.

He should’ve listened to his sister. She’d tried everything to pull him back—pleaded, reasoned, even threatened to expose him if he didn’t stop. But he was too far gone by then. Too enticed by the promise of discovery, of power, of being needed by the wrong people.

And once someone was in, there was no such thing as getting out—not really. He thought he could. After years of working with Gotham’s worst, he’d been foolish enough to believe he could slip away unnoticed, sever his ties, and walk free.

He had tried to leave—and that was how he ended up in this mess.

He should’ve known the Joker would never keep his word. Trusting a lunatic to honour a deal was like handing a lit match to a pyromaniac and hoping he wouldn’t strike it.

Stealing the formula back had been the only move he had left—the only way to try and make amends for the damage he’d done. But he’d underestimated just how badly the Joker wanted it.

He was running out of options.

He was brilliant enough to create a weaponized toxin—yes. But crafting an antidote? That had never been his strength. His genius lay in design, not repair. And this toxin, twisted using the strands of the newest Joker venom, was the worst thing he’d ever created.

Joke venom was notorious precisely because it had no cure. No antidote. Yet, there was only one person he knew who’d ever come close to breaking that fact.

You.

You had cracked Scarecrow’s fear toxin. You’d neutralized half a dozen of Poison Ivy’s most lethal poisons. You’d even managed to stall the effects of early-stage Joker venom—something the best minds in Gotham had written off as impossible.

He had hoped—foolishly—that he’d be the one to fix it. That he could undo the damage he’d done without dragging anyone else into the fallout. Especially not you. He hadn’t wanted to involve you because that risked putting you in Joker’s sights.

But he was out of time. Out of places to run. And deep in his bones, he knew the truth he’d been avoiding:

You were his last chance.

And more than that—you were the city’s best hope.

BATCAVE

It only took Dick a day to decide that if Jason wasn’t going to play fair then neither was he. If Jason was going to use Tim as an accomplice then Dick would build his own damn team to help him with the case and the girl.

He kicked a protesting Tim out of the Batcave with little ceremony—ignoring every muttered complaint and dramatic sigh—and pulled out his comm to make a few calls.

It didn’t take long for his backup to arrive.

Now, Dick stood at the helm of it—arms crossed, one ankle hooked over the other, posture deceptively casual, like it was a casual meet-up and not, in fact, the beginning of his carefully orchestrated campaign to absolutely destroy his younger brother in the world’s most passive-aggressive war over a woman.

He wasn’t in uniform tonight. Just dark jeans and a Henley, sleeves pushed to his elbows.

The soft whir of wheels broke the silence as Barbara was the first to arrive, her auburn hair damp, twisted up in a lazy clip. She rolled out of the elevator with one brow arched high and a tablet tucked under one arm, her other hand dragging down her face.

“This better be good,” she said, her voice dry. “You dragged me out of a bath and three episodes deep into a murder docuseries.”

Stephanie trailed behind her, oversized hoodie hanging off one shoulder, nursing a cold brew like it was the only thing keeping her upright. The hoodie read Crime-Fighter, Coffee First in bold black letters.

Damian, on the other hand appeared from the shadows from god knows where, his posture stiff with irritation and a frown tugging at his mouth, as if simply being summoned here was an inconvenience to him.

“This better not be another attempt to make us play game night again, Grayson,” Damian warned, arms folded. “I will not pretend Monopoly is a viable training exercise.”

Dick rolled his eyes and nodded toward the glowing holoscreen behind him. “It’s about the Joker case.”

Stephanie squinted. “Then… where are the others?”

“And why is the girl I set you up with on the screen?” Barbara asked, already suspicious.

Damian whirled to face her. “You set him up with the only lead we have?”

“Lead?” Barbara repeated, eyes narrowing. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

“Grayson was assigned to extract intel from her,” Damian stated before Dick could speak. “She’s the sister of the target Joker has been pursuing—and the individual we’ve all been trying to locate.”

“Wait, what?” Stephanie yelped, nearly sloshing her coffee. “This is the woman Tim was telling me about? The one you and Jason are fighting over?”

Dick exhaled hard through his nose, jaw flexing. “We’re not f—”

“She’s pretty,” Stephanie cut off, squinting at the projection as she leaned forward. “No wonder you’re both acting like idiots.”

“Can we please go back to the part where the woman I matched you with on a dating app is now a lead in an active Joker case?” Barbara said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at Dick.

“It’s not like I knew who she was when you set me up!” Dick snapped, voice rising in defence.

“You could’ve called!”

“I know,” he said, running a hand through his hair, fingers dragging roughly across his scalp. “You’re right. I��m sorry. But can we please focus on why I called you all here?”

Stephanie didn’t miss a beat. “You want our help sabotaging Jason.”

“No!” Dick said too quickly, then paused. His mouth tugged into a grimace. “Okay—maybe slightly.”

Barbara groaned.

“I’m serious,” he said, the humour draining from his voice. “I need your help to figure her out. Get closer to her. Her brother’s the only thread we’ve got in this whole mess, and she might be the only one who knows where he is. But she’s not going to tell me a thing unless she trusts me.”

He glanced back at the projected image, something unreadable flickering across his face—frustration, maybe. Or guilt.

“So I need intel,” he continued, voice lower now. “What she likes. What she hates. What makes her laugh. What pisses her off. I don’t care how small—anything that gives me an edge.”

“And if that intel just so happens to give you an edge over Jason…” Stephanie prompted, eyebrow raised.

Dick didn’t even try to look innocent. He shrugged one shoulder. “Then that’s just a bonus.”

Barbara narrowed her eyes. “You do realize if she finds out about this, she’s going to hate you.”

“Good thing Jason and I are in complete agreement that she won’t,” he said, far too confident for someone with a growing list of poor decisions.

“Steph’s right. You two are idiots,” Barbara muttered, dragging her palm down her face.

Dick exhaled slowly. “Look, I’m not trying to manipulate her. I just need to understand her. If we figure that out, we get closer to the brother. That’s the mission. And yeah—if it happens to help me one-up Jason in the process…” He gave a lopsided smile. “Well, I’m not going to lose sleep over that.”

Barbara stared at him for a long moment, like she was trying to calculate just how much of this was about the case—and how much was pure, unfiltered ego. Then, with a sigh that carried the weight of years of dealing with these boys, she flicked open her tablet.

“Fine,” Barbara said, already typing as her eyes scanned the screen. “I’ll start hacking into her communications—look for any mention of her brother and flag any unknown calls or suspicious messages.” She didn’t even bother looking up. “Just so we’re clear—I’m doing this for the case. Not to help you win whatever stupid romantic grudge match you and Jason have going.”

“It’s not a grudge match,” he insisted. “It’s… a strategic lead acquisition initiative. That just happens to come with some personal incentives.”

Stephanie nearly choked on her cold brew. “That’s the prettiest way I’ve ever heard someone say, ‘I’m losing and I hate it.’”

“I’m not losing,” Dick muttered, jaw tightening.

“Uh-huh,” Stephanie said, dragging out the sound, clearly not believing him. “Sure. Denial looks great on you.” She leaned back in her chair, sipping noisily from her drink. “Alright, boss. What do I need to do?”

Dick straightened, grateful for the shift back to business—even if it was steeped in sarcasm. “I want you to build a psychological profile on her. Dig through her digital footprint. Socials, archived forums, anything public. Old blog posts, research articles, maybe even school club bulletins.”

Stephanie grinned. “So… you want me to cyberstalk her.”

“It’s not stalking. It’s remote behavioural analysis,” Dick corrected.

“Sure.” She gave him a knowing look. “You want me to find out what kind of coffee she drinks, which books she reads, and whether her Goodreads account is a shrine to tragic vampire romances or slow-burn academia smut.”

Dick opened his mouth, thought better of it, then sighed. “I have no idea what that even means. Just stay focused. If she has any habits or preferences—or mentions Jason—flag it.”

Stephanie’s fingers were already flying across the screen. “I’ll compile a profile. Interests, habits, emotional cues, digital presence.”

“Exactly,” he said, nodding. “The more we know, the better.”

“And if I stumble across her dating history?” Stephanie asked sweetly without looking up.

Dick hesitated. “Only if it’s… relevant.”

“To you or the case?” she teased, flashing him a grin that danced at the edges of mischief. But she didn’t give him the chance to answer. She was already turning away, her voice trailing over her shoulder as she shot him a wink. “Don’t worry, Boy Wonder—I’ll be discreet.”

Damian made a noise that sounded suspiciously like disgust. “You’re all embarrassing.”

Dick ignored him. “You’re tailing her. Quietly. No interaction unless absolutely necessary. I want to know if she’s meeting anyone connected to her brother or Joker’s network…Or Jason.”

Damian exhaled sharply through his nose, the kind of sound that somehow conveyed the full weight of his disdain for everyone in the room. It was the sigh of a boy who believed he was surrounded by fools.

“Tt. Fine,” he muttered, arms crossing stiffly. “I’ll tail her. Discreetly. No contact. No interference. Happy?”

He didn’t sound happy.

Dick gave a short nod. “Good. Just remember—this doesn’t mean you can skip school.”

That earned a visible twitch in Damian’s jaw. He crossed his arms tighter, glaring like Dick had personally insulted his lineage. “I am engaged in tactical surveillance on a high-priority target.”

“And you’re also twelve,” Dick replied, entirely unfazed. “If Alfred catches wind of another all-nighter and hears you slept through algebra again, I’m not covering for you.”

“I do not sleep through algebra.”

“Sure,” Stephanie muttered. “You meditated aggressively with your eyes closed and your hood up.”

Damian shot her a look sharp enough to cut glass.

“Anyways,” he said, raising his voice just enough to halt the impending bickering. “Glad we’re all on the same page. But remember—most importantly…”

He paused, gaze sweeping across the room.

“She, Alfred, and Bruce cannot find out.”

MEANWHILE...

Tim hadn’t meant to overhear. Not really.

But the cave echoed, and Dick’s voice—especially when wound up in righteous competitiveness—carried. Loudly. And Tim had lingered—just a moment too long—behind the server banks, just long enough to catch the important bits

“…You want our help sabotaging Jason…”

“…if she ends up being a better match for Jason, I’m not lying to you…”

“…we get that, we get closer to the brother. That’s the mission. And yeah, if it helps me beat Jason…”

Tim blinked, deadpan.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

It wasn’t the fact that Dick was crushing on a girl. Or that Jason was too. That brand of drama barely registered anymore—not after years of rooftop arguments, near-death team-ups, and family dinners that often ended in batarangs embedded in walls. Honestly, it ranked somewhere between mildly irritating and background noise on the Wayne household disaster scale.

It wasn’t even the part where they were turning a high-priority Joker lead into some twisted rom-com disaster.

No. The true offence—the unforgivable part—was that Dick didn’t include him.

Tim pulled out his comm, thumb hovering over the screen as he debated just how petty he wanted to be. The answer came quickly.

Very.

He tapped the name with a smug flick.

Jason picked up after one ring. “What?” He grumbled.

Tim didn’t waste time. “Dick’s building a team to spy on your future girlfriend.”

There was a pause on the other end. A beat of stunned silence.

“…You wanna say that again?”

“I said,” Tim repeated, already turning down the side tunnel toward the garage, “Dick dragged Steph, Barbara, and Damian into a secret meeting in the cave. He’s using the Joker case as cover—but it’s very clearly a dick-measuring contest over Y/N.”

On the other end of the line, Jason exhaled slowly, “That little—”

“Yep.”

Tim could practically hear the scowl forming on Jason’s face.

“It’s just the three of them?”

“Barbara’s hacking the communications. Stephanie’s building a profile on her. Damian’s tailing her.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“…And you?” Jason asked, his voice slower now.

Tim’s jaw tightened. He kicked a loose bolt across the garage floor with the heel of his boot, the metallic clink skipping into silence. “I wasn’t invited.”

Jason snorted. “Ouch.”

“I know, right?” Tim muttered, irritation bleeding through the sarcasm. It wasn’t about the girl. It wasn’t even about the case. It was the exclusion—the assumption that he’d pick sides without even being asked.

Jason’s voice came back cool and sharp. “Alright. Then we build our own damn team.”

Tim’s steps slowed, a grin tugging at his lips. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Cass?”

“Told her to head to your place.”

“Duke?”

“I’m sending him the same thing.”

“So that I guess this means you’re now my tech guy,” Jason stated..

Tim grinned. “Obviously.”

The amusement didn’t last. Jason’s tone shifted to something more serious. “This is still about her brother. Joker’s not finished. If she’s in the middle of this, she’s a target—maybe the only one who can figure out an antidote to that damn toxin.”

Tim’s smile faded. He nodded to himself, already flipping through the mental file he’d started building the second her name crossed his screen. “We’ll figure out what she knows. Piece it together.”

“Whatever happens, we protect her,” Jason said firmly. “and during all of this, if we happen to beat Dick in the process?”

Tim shrugged. “Then that’s just a bonus.”

JASON'S APARTMENT

The apartment was dim, the only light coming from the open window where the city glowed in quiet pulses. It smelled faintly of gun oil and leather, and the TV was playing some old movie on mute. Jason stood at the kitchen counter, arms braced against the surface, fuming quietly.

Across the room, Tim sat perched on the arm of the couch like he owned the place, sipping a soda with far too much smug satisfaction. He didn’t say anything, but the occasional sound of his slurping straw was loud enough to be irritating—If the twitching of Jason’s left eye indicated anything.

There was a knock—two short, one sharp.

Jason pushed off the counter and crossed the room, unlocking the door in a single motion. Duke stood on the other side, a backpack slung over one shoulder and confusion etched into his brow.

Behind him, Cass stood in silence. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes were scanning the space like she was preparing for a fight.

Duke stepped inside, gaze bouncing between Jason and Tim. “Okay, what’s the emergency?” he asked, frowning. “Tim said it was important.”

Cass didn’t say a word. She just drifted toward the window and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.

Jason nodded at both of them. “Glad you came. We’ve got a situation.”

Tim tossed a chip into his mouth. “A tactical situation,” he said dryly, voice laced with sarcasm.

Jason threw him a look. “Shut up.”

Duke glanced between them, eyebrows raised. “So… are we talking Joker, or—?”

Jason held up his phone to show a picture of you.

Duke blinked, squinting at your image. “…Is this not Dick’s date?”

Cass tilted her head, lips twitching in something that might have been curiosity.

Jason didn’t answer.

Duke’s eyes widened slowly. “Oh my God. This is about a girl.”

“It’s about a lead,” Jason corrected flatly, lowering the phone.

“A lead Dick did in fact go on a date with,” Tim added helpfully, not even pretending to hide the amusement in his voice.

Jason shot him another warning glare.

“This is the emergency?” Duke asked, incredulous. “You said it was important. I thought someone died.”

Jason huffed, the sound tight with frustration. “Someone could die. Her brother’s the lead we’ve been chasing for months—the one Joker’s gunning for. And she’s the only real shot we’ve got at finding him before he does.”

Duke gave him a long, slow look. “So this isn’t about stealing Dick’s girl?”

Tim snorted. “Oh, it totally is.”

Jason bristled. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter, jaw tight. “She’s not Dick’s. Yet. She hasn’t chosen.”

Duke blinked. His frown deepened. “Wait—she’s dating both of you?”

Jason looked away, suddenly very interested in a spot on the wall. “She… doesn’t know it.”

There was a pause.

Duke stared, mouth parting slightly. His voice, when it came, was flat with disbelief. “…How the hell doesn’t she—?”

“Look,” Jason cut in, rubbing a tired hand down his face. His fingers dragged across the stubble on his jaw, like he could scrape off the weight of the conversation. “Me and Dick agreed not to tell her we know each other. It’s a… gentleman’s agreement. No interference. Let her choose without pressure.”

Duke blinked. Then squinted. “You both agreed to lie to her?”

“It’s not lying,” Jason muttered defensively. “It’s withholding a minor detail.”

He pushed on. “Anyway, Dick broke the spirit of the deal. He’s already called in backup—Stephanie, Barbara, and Damian are all running surveillance for him now.”

“Wait—what?!” Duke’s voice pitched up, shocked indignation blooming across his face. “He didn’t even ask us?”

Cass, who had been silently watching, gave a small nod—her lips drawn into a frown, the betrayal practically radiating off her.

“I talked to him this morning,” Duke muttered. “We had breakfast. He said nothing.”

Jason leaned back against the counter. “Exactly. He’s building his team. So now I’m building mine.”

Duke threw his hands into the air, exasperated. “Unbelievable.”

Cass tilted her head toward the picture of you still lit up on Jason’s phone, then looked back at Jason. “You care about her,” she said quietly, but it wasn’t a question. It was a statement

Jason met her gaze. “Yeah. I do.”

Cass nodded once, decisive. That was all she needed.

Duke stared at them both, then slumped into a chair with a dramatic groan. “Fine. Count me in. But when this ends with her hating both of you and ghosting the entire family, I want it on record that I saw it coming.”

Tim, still sitting smugly on the arm of the couch, raised his soda can in salute. “Duly noted.”

Jason pushed off the counter and started pacing, the natural commander emerging. “Tim, you’re on tech. I want to know everything. Her schedule, her habits, what makes her laugh, what makes her cry—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim cut in, waving a hand, “you want a list of guys she’s slept with too?”

Jason hesitated.

Tim blinked, staring at him over the rim of his soda can. “Oh my God. You do.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jason muttered, scowling.

“You didn’t not say it.”

Duke groaned into his hands. “This is gonna end so badly.”

Jason ignored them, jaw tightening. “Just… get me the information,” he gritted out. Then he turned to Cass, tone shifting again. “Cass, you’re tailing her. No contact and don’t let her know about your presence. If Joker’s anywhere near her, I want you between them first.”

Cass sent him a two fingered salute.

He nodded once, then pivoted to Duke. “And you’ve got surveillance. I want everything—traffic cams, building feeds, street-level activity. If Joker’s people show up… or if Dick so much as breathes near her, I want eyes on it.”

Duke, still half-lounging in his chair with a faint scowl tugging at his brow, straightened slowly. “So just to be clear—I’m tracking a girl, her possibly homicidal brother, the actual Joker, and the Nightwing himself?”

He let out a long, exhausted breath and grabbed his bag off the floor, slinging it over one shoulder. “This is either going to be brilliant… or the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

Tim raised his soda can in lazy salute. “I vote both.”

Jason ignored the jab. “I’ll handle the direct approach. I’ll find out what she knows about her brother,” he said, his voice calm but hardening at the edges. “The rest of you—watch her. I want everything. If she’s hiding something, I want to know. Who she trusts. Family, best friends. Any unusual changed in routines.”

He glanced around the room, making sure every pair of eyes was on him.

“If she mentions Joker—or if Dick starts getting too bold—I want a full report.”

His voice dipped slightly, “But most importantly… she can’t find out. Alfred can’t find out. And definitely not Bruce.”

YOUR APARTMENT

You came home after a long day at the research lab, the key turning in the lock with a soft click before the door swung shut behind you. The heels came off first—kicked lazily into the corner with the kind of relief that only came after hours on your feet—and were quickly replaced by a pair of fuzzy socks. You peeled off your work clothes and slipped into your favourite oversized sweater and loose shorts.

Your phone buzzed once against the table, screen lighting up with an incoming call—but you didn’t check it. You were off the clock. Whoever it was could wait.

Padding into the kitchen, you flicked on the stove and poured a bag of popcorn into a pot, humming the chorus of a catchy pop song under your breath. It wasn’t long before the music took over completely. With no one to hear and the apartment walls blessedly thick, you gave in, singing freely and swaying your hips with every beat.

You didn’t notice the flicker of movement in the shadows behind you.

The glow of the television lit up the living room as you scrolled through movie options, finally settling on an action flick with gratuitous explosions and an absurdly high body count—just the way you liked it. The title screen illuminated the apartment in soft bursts of light as you turned back toward the kitchen to check on your snack.

Behind you, a figure stepped silently out of the darkness.

Jason moved like a phantom, his eyes scanning your living space. He paused at the bookshelf, fingers brushing the edge of a vintage car figurine, seems you had an interest in cars.

You were still humming, still lost in your own rhythm and oblivious to the intruders in your home, as you disappeared into the bathroom.

The second shadow emerged from the stairwell.

Dick moved lower to the ground, planting a bug inside the hollow base of a decorative lamp. He lingered just long enough to glance at the painting on your wall and the artist who painted it.

By the time you stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying your hands, Dick had already melted back into the dark.

Jason, meanwhile, was at your laptop. The screen’s soft glow reflected in his eyes as he skimmed through your recent work—notes from the Charity Gala, advocacy for underserved kids in the city, a half-written proposal aimed at funding science programs in rougher neighbourhoods.

Dick had moved to the living room, eyes catching on the paused screen. The sequel was releasing in a few days—he remembered the trailer.

The sound of your footsteps pulled them both into motion.

By the time you re-entered the room, popcorn in hand and still humming softly, they were already gone

You had no idea that your apartment was now a surveillance web. Microphones tucked inside air vents. Cameras disguised in houseplants. Motion sensors hidden in innocuous corners. Only your bedroom and bathroom had been spared—barely. That was the one line they both agreed not to cross with their teams.

But even then, microphones had been installed just outside the doors.

Just in case they could pick up something about your brother.

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neontiger · 3 months ago

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shelter

♡ jason todd x reader

♡ fluffy angst. Jason Todd questions his ability to love and be loved.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

There was a time when you could sleep through the night sounds without stirring - every siren, every shout from the sidewalk, every blaring alarm rolled off your body without so much as a toe twitch.

Nothing was the same anymore. Not since Jason had entered, since you discovered what he did at night, who he was. Now you heard the mice in the walls and the wind on the glass. Always hanging off some precipice, always wondering, asking. Tonight?

Was it worth it? Mostly.

So it's a restless sleep you're pulled from when your phone rings. It jerks you into a sitting position and has your heart punching bruises against your rib cage, your hand reaching to the nightstand to answer before it stops.

One deep breath, to calm your heart, though it doesn't have the desired effect. Your voice still trembles. "Hello?"

"Hey. Did I wake you up?"

Jason sounds the same. His voice is always rougher behind the mask, but the image of him in your head has him without it. Somewhere alone in the darkness of Gotham. You imagine an alley; you don't really know where he goes on these nighttime patrols.

"No," you lie. Your eyes dart to the television, asking if you're still watching? "I was a watching a movie. Where are you?"

He grunts, a noncommittal noise meant to be the answer you're looking for. "I didn't mean to. Sorry."

"It's fine anyway, Jay. I don't mind you waking me." You settle back against the pillows. Habit keeps the spot on the side of the window open for him. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"I don't know."

His words, their tone, wash over you like ice water. Fixing the blanket over your shoulders does nothing. But you don't ask, don't overstep the boundaries he keeps around himself. Don't know how yet.

You're not imagining him right.

Not an alley. He's in an apartment. It's trashed, holes in the fabric of the couch, mold on the walls, trash scattered across the floor. Aside from him, there are two others, a woman and a child. He doesn't know them, but he hurts for them: she's blissed out on some new drug, and the kid's asleep without a care or the knowledge of where the night had taken Jason, or why that even matters to a kid like him. He doesn't know the mistakes that have been made. Not until the sun rises.

He wants to believe it's everything that's happened to him, that's why he's so angry, why he sometimes feels like a million pieces of broken glass trying to fit together again. Why control feels like such a far-off thing, always out of reach. His hands react before the rest of him catch up, and he wants to act like it's everything else - his mother, his father, dying and coming back, Bruce - to blame.

Because if it's on him, then that means he has to be the one to admit it. He has to be the one to fix it.

"Jason." Your voice is soft, like a pillow against his ear. He's woken you up, he knows, and he hates himself for that. He shouldn't have called. Didn't want to talk anyway, but hearing you is fixing something inside him.

"Go back to bed," he says. "I have to take care of some things. You have work tomorrow?"

A little noise, hmm, from your pursed lips. He knows it, makes him smile. The woman nearby moans softly. "Maybe," you say. "Feeling like I might be getting sick, though. Maybe I should skip, just in case."

He's ruining you. Upending your life and throwing it off course, and how undeserving he was of that privilege. This needed an end. It would only get worse from here, and you would end up hating him, or dead.

That thought cuts like a light through the fog. Blinding. Consumes him, swirls in his skull. He looks up at the woman again, and how deserving he is of this scene - of this particular mess he's made, not even considering the kid in the other room who no longer has a father, soon won't have a family at all. Another life destroyed.

Can't destroy yours. This has to end and it has to be now. Better to be hated than speaking at your funeral.

Jason swallows. "I...we need to talk."

"Then come over," you say. "I miss you. I'm worried. You don't sound good."

The words don't come. He's not sure what to say.

"If something happened, you can tell me. Or not, if you're not feeling up to it. I'm not going to act like I understand or I know, like, the shit you do, but you need a space to talk, I'd like to be that space."

Again, he can't answer. He listens not just to your voice but to the sounds you make on the line: the bed complaining as you shift, the rustle of the blanket. And he decides, maybe not yet. Maybe a little longer.

Cruel, that. You deserve more. He can't give it.

"How much longer will you be?" You ask, as if this is the most normal thing.

"Might be morning before I get to you," Jason says. "Don't wait up."

You laugh, and he can't help but smile. "You're not the boss of me. Besides, I don't think I can fall back to sleep. Your fault. I'm not complaining though."

Just a little longer, then he'd figure out a clean break. "Alright. I'll try to be quick."

"Careful over quick, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure." His fingers tighten on his phone. There's words he wants to say but he knows he shouldn't, if only because it will make things worse in the end. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll be waiting. Be careful, Jay. I want you home."

Home. Was that you?

"I will. Go back to sleep," he says, again, for no reason. Bids you goodbye and hangs up finally to deal with the situation in front of him. More lives he's about to ruin.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The sun is shaking sleep from her eyes by the time Jason makes it to you, appearing on your fire escape with a soft thud. The sound pulls you from your show, and you watch his grand entrance: prying open your window and slipping inside, still in uniform, mask and hood concealing his face. You leave the warmth of the bed to help him undress wordlessly, and retrieve from your closet clothes he's left here.

"Sorry I'm late." He tugs on a pair of sweatpants while you catefully arrange his uniform on the armchair by the window.

"Better late than never." You close the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist before standing on tiptoes to kiss him. "Tired?"

He nods. "Long night."

That's all he'll tell you, and for now you have no option but to accept it. It's fine.

You wonder what he thinks, as he slips into bed with your, pulls the covers up and you into his arms. What goes through his head. Tonight, he smells like iron and gunpowder, like he does so many nights. Maybe that's part of it; there's things he's done he doesn't want forgiveness for. How do you deal with a man like that? One who sees himself in the most undeserving light?

It's confusing, and there were times to give it up, but those have long passed. Now his future is mapped on yours.

You brush your fingers lightly over the scar that cuts down the center of his abdomen. "I love you, Jason," you whisper, words light kisses to his neck.

He hugs you tighter. He won't say it, and that, too, is fine for now. There is always tomorrow, and there always will be.

In time, sleep will come for you both: you first, then Jason. But for now he lays awake, holding you as your lips part and eyes close, your body relaxing into exhaustion again. He thinks about too many things. Can't calm his thoughts.

But maybe there is tomorrow. Maybe for now, you can be his home.

#jason todd #red hood #dc comics #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #batfam #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd angst #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fluff #red hood angst

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omgfangirlland · 5 months ago

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The Shadows That Nurture 4

I may have girl bossed a bit too close to the sun and finished Chapter 5 and 6 too- I'm not quite happy with those so I'll go through them again before posting Ch5 😅

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 4 >>next

Well, we all knew they would never have time for you. They never do until it’s too late. That’s why funerals are for the living to say goodbye, to mourn, to let go of the guilt. It still hurt… It hurt so much to be brushed off by Alfred, to be ignored by Bruce, to be yelled at by Dick. You couldn’t even think of Jason without tearing up, and Tim was just straight-up mean. But at least he was honest. Cassandra and Barbara’s avoidance hurt the most since they were your only female interaction in years.

Everything you tried to do to prove yourself was, at best, ignored, at worst, compared to someone else and diminished. You had nothing in common with Richard besides knowing a few of the same bands. But that wasn’t enough to raise his interest in interacting with you. Every time he looked at you it was like he was angry and sad at the same time.

Jason and you were so similar. Finally, someone you could relate to, who knew how life on the streets was, how terrifying the big space of the Wayne residence was compared to the lives you once had. And yet he was more interested in Dick, no matter how rude the oldest boy was. You couldn’t blame him, you also wanted Richard’s attention. Your heart felt like it was rolled through needles and lemon juice when Jason got everything you wanted just for you to watch him get buried. Dick was angry when Jason first showed up, jealous, but by the time Jason grew up he was just as angry. You hoped that wouldn’t happen to you.

You were a great student, thriving in your classes and finishing middle school earlier than others, what else were you supposed to do when you had no friends? Of course, that was nothing to Tim’s brilliance. And every time you tried to bond with him on that or show him your achievements it would be a tired “I don’t have time for you.” or an uninterested “I achieved that when I was younger than you.”

Barbara is everything you wanted to be when older, smart, beautiful, had friends and the family's attention. It hurt so much to see her get along with Cassandra but not you, never you. And Cassandra… You tried. You tried to befriend her without overwhelming her, but since the first introduction, she had started ignoring you too, downright leaving the room if you entered it. Bruce went to all her recitals, but he never had time for your galleries or competitions. You stopped asking everyone to come when you found the invites and pamphlets balled up and thrown in the trash bins.

By the time Duke and Stephanie came around you had given up, what use was it? It’ll be another rejection, so you just took care of the garden and did more art, your room overflowing with it. You spent at least half of the monthly allowance Bruce gave, and yet you could still be a millionaire.

You gave up on the Waynes, only speaking to them if they spoke to you. You were done with them, with their secrets, with how they would talk between each other in whispers and then get quiet when you stepped into the room. They’d always look at you like you were a stranger, an enemy. And perhaps you were. So, fuck them. Fuck the boys, fuck the girls, and fuck Bruce and Alfred too.

Sneaking out was the best thing you have done for yourself- sure it was a long way from the Manor to the city and back, but it was all worth it. It was worth it to see the other street kids, to hear their stories, to hang out with the homeless and the girls on their smoke break, it was worth everything when you found your mom’s grave. It was nice, it felt like home.

Was it dangerous? Yes. But as long as you stuck to Red Hood’s territory you were fine, his rule of keeping kids safe seemed to also apply to you. He was nice, even if he never spoke around you beyond hums and grunts, but you enjoyed how gentle he was with the other kid, how he ruffled your hair, and how he helped you clean your mom’s grave. He was nice, and surprisingly so were most other rogues.

Ivy enjoyed helping you with tips for the garden, some of the flowers you grew there on every 13th of the month were made into bouquets for her, your mom’s grave, and Jason’s too. Two-face was surprisingly nice about your inquiry of the law and Penguin enjoyed helping you with your business classes. The Riddler made you want to smash your head against a wall most of the time, but boy was he good with philosophy.

You avoided the Joker like the plague. You couldn’t find it in you to care for him when Harley reminded you so much of your mom when she came with a black eye or busted lip asking if you could take care of Bud and Lou for a jiffy. You could never say no to her.

If Red Hood wasn’t keeping an eye on you, it was Bane or Killer Croc, both men letting you climb and swing from them like a spider. They enjoyed seeing a kid not tremble in fear at the sight of them, despite whatever they may tell you. Mr. Freeze was nice too, lonely like you. Sad you simply couldn’t take the cold for long no matter how many layers you put on.

You loved them all to a degree, but Catwoman always made you feel like her kid, not just a kid. Sometimes you felt guilty for wanting to call her mom, you had a mom. But she made you feel all soft and mushy, calling you her kit, crying with you when you first heard her call you that. She thought she had hurt you, oh, how panicked she was. But her hug was so warm, so loving once she found out that no one had called you their kid in so long. You wish she would steal you away, she does too, but she made a deal with Red Hood. Selina wishes she had just taken you and moved across the country, everyone be damned.

Unknowingly, you had created the garden to hold flowers that reminded you of all of them, even the Waynes. You couldn’t bring yourself to kill their flowers, to make bouquets of them or sell them- you just didn’t have it in you. So, you just kept on growing them, talking to them, and telling those flowers what your alleged family would never listen to. And then Bruce ruined it all.

He wasn’t sure why he did it, exhaustion or paranoia, maybe both? But all Bruce knew he was seeing is his mom’s garden flourishing after years of it being neglected, of Alfred overlooking it at Bruce’s request to focus on what rooms were being used inside the manor instead. He didn’t think twice about grabbing the pesticide designed for Poison Ivy, didn’t think about asking Alfred, about asking the kids, he just reacted.

Bruce was drinking his guilt away in his office, forehead pressed against his desk as one hand held a whiskey glass and the other gripped at his hair. He had never seen his youngest that angry, crying so much-… He wasn’t sure when the last time he saw her smile or hang around the family was.

“What have you done?!” He remembers how pained and angry you sounded as he killed the last flower, his flower. He remembers how he acted, how annoyance rose in him as he explained, and he remembers how his heart fell out of his ass when you said that you took care of the garden and that you spent years building it.

His face remained unmoving as his hands shook, as his jaw clenched, as he could feel the sky crash on his head in tempo with your tears falling down your cheeks. He tried to justify himself, come up with a lie, something that would make him feel less guilty, but- “Yeah?! Well, maybe you would have known if you actually spared a glance in my direction from time to time- You should have left me in an orphanage, no- it should have been you instead of mom!”

You were hurt, you didn’t mean it, he was sure. Even after you went into the manor, crying your heart out, Bruce still sat there. He wasn’t sure what he could do, the pesticide ruined the soil, he didn’t even remember what flowers he saw. The man just went into his daytime office, grabbed his father's liquor, and drank. Bruce knew he should go and apologize and try to talk to you. He poured himself another full glass, instead. Tonight, Batman will be sleeping, and tomorrow Bruce will raise your allowance. If he remembers.

You knew to some degree Bruce didn’t like you, but for him to not even notice that you poured your blood and sweat into that garden when Alfred and even Cassandra did felt like a punch to the gut. You were a good kid, you tried your best to be, so why was this the hand you were dealt? Did he honestly think the flowers in the manor were bought by Alfred? The old man was so busy the last thing on his mind was to buy flowers for the house.

You couldn’t believe him, you could only cry for the lost plants, for one of the three things that brought you happiness. You curled into a ball under the warm duvet, crying into your knees until you could not anymore. The shadows did their best to soothe you, lulling you to sleep as the exhaustion of crying helped them.

Dreams didn’t come easy to you, sure, you had the usual nightmare, but calm dreams were a rare occasion. And this one felt so nice as you drifted in the endless dark space, two figures you couldn’t quite make out helping you stay afloat as they talked… chanted? You weren’t sure. It sounded like Latin, but it also didn’t. No matter, it was soothing, warm, it was what you needed.

You felt light as a feather. You felt free and- you hit your head… The pain not only confuses you but also wakes you up, the throbbing on the side of your head making you groan. Your tired eyes looked around trying to figure out what you hit as your hand rubbed the sore spot.

Maybe you were still dreaming. You must still be dreaming. Panic set into your veins- there was no way this was actually happening, it couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t be a meta- Batman hated metas and he worked for your- he worked for Bruce- You were fucked.

It didn’t matter that as soon as it happened and you panicked your body hit the floor so hard it rattled your nightstand, making a framed picture fall and break, it didn’t matter that you didn’t register the pain, or notice that you broke the floorboard where you hid all your diaries and drawings you made for the family- all your brain knew is that you should leave before Batman throws you in Arkham or GSP.

So that’s what you did. You grabbed your sports bag that you used for art supplies, stuffed it with some clothes, your laptop, phone, the chargers, took a few sketchbooks and pens, and the card with Bruce’s money. Not like he’ll notice, he didn’t notice that you spent thousands every other week at a fast-food joint for the homeless and street kids, didn’t notice that you spent millions every other year at retail stores for the same people, he didn’t notice the donations. He was as blind as a bat.

“Leap of faith” is what Superman once said in an interview about how others with the power could learn to take off. “It’s just a leap of faith.” He was right- you almost pissed yourself, but he was right. You understood why he always was floating above the ground; it felt so freeing to fly, circling the manor to the top, feeling the air around you. It was so nice. You should move, fly away, and yet your eyes can’t leave the destroyed garden. You should make a few stops before fully leaving… just a few.

When each of the rogues found one singular flower in their favorite seat, their window sill, on the weapons and cars they owned, all withered and falling apart, they knew what it meant.

Ivy was the first, she knew the second the plants died. After all, she helped keep the plants alive, nothing could thrive on the Wayne land anymore, almost like it was cursed, as if Death herself lived on the grounds. But seeing the burned and greying orange trumpet vine told her everything she needed to know, that it wasn’t you who destroyed them. Bruce Wayne and the Bats didn’t know what was about to come their way.

You’ll miss your friends, the kids, the rogues. You’ll miss Catwoman, but she always told you to be a bit more selfish. This was the moment for that. Doubt settled in at some point, but you had nothing holding you attached to the Waynes, Catwoman couldn’t or just wouldn’t take care of you, it was time to let go and abuse Bruce’s ignorance, make a new life for you where you don’t need to hide in the night for some social interaction.

New York City should be the perfect place for it.

Tag List: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry

#dc crossover #dc x invincible #invincible crossover #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere invincible #bruce wayne #neglected reader #yandere batfamily #fem!reader #platonic yandere

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aldryrththerainbowheart · 1 year ago

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Imagine a meet cute with Jason Todd and you meet through a book review website chat. You start chatting over your shared love for romance novels. You give each other recommendations, opinions on newest books or trash talk a book you both hated. After a while you become good friends, knowing each other in and out in ways no one else in your life does. He doesn't go a day without talking to you online and his replies always brighten your day. You are so close and yet you never saw each others face. You're nervous about who's on the other side of the chatroom, he's struggling to trust someone online with his civil identity.

Finally you bite the bullet and agree to meet. Somewhere public like mall or park. You finally get there and you're already nervous. Stepping from one foot to the other and looking in all directions to spot him. He said he'll be wearing a red hoodie but several men in red hoodies walked by without giving you a glance. Finally, someone clears their throat behind you and when you turn around your jaw almost hits the floor. Because there's no way that's him.

You have to crane your neck to look him in the face, taking a step back nervously. That's not austenlover16/8 that's a life sized GI Joy action figure. This man blocks out the sun. The width of his shoulders takes your entire field of view. You don't want to judge but if you met this guy in a dark alleway you'd probably pass out. He lifts on arm to scratch the back of his neck, the muscles on bicep bulging in way that makes your throat dry. He gives you his best effort at smile.

"So...it's you huh?"

tags: @thinkingofausername

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd drabble

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker.

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader

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spidernuggets · 1 year ago

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Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjtjfiadhus my brain just said how Jason would react to his S/O kissing down his chest, but specifically kissing down his y incision. He might hate it. It might turn him on. My brain is going feral and I need it—

Somewhere in the middle of your relationship, where Jason was getting comfortable being more open with you, he allowed you to see and touch his scars. Obviously, it took him a long while for himself to accept that these scars are permanently on him, in contrast to you immediately accepting every inch of him the moment he revealed his bare skin to you.

It took a longer while for him to let you lightly graze your fingers along his scars. And when the two of you began to become sexually intimate with each other, he'd guide your hands as to where he's okay with you touching.

You really didn't mean to trigger him when you were straddling his lap with your hands resting along his jaw, initiating a long and slow make-out session with him, who was shirtless, on your couch. Then your hands went down to hold his neck, your lips following suit.

You were just too in the moment when your kisses quickly moved to where his large autopsy scar started.

That's when Jason jolted with a big flinch, his reflexes making his hands move from your waist to your shoulders, pushing you back, harder than he'd meant to.

He stutters a quiet string of apologies, lifting you off his lap and walking to your shared bedroom in a hurry. A pang of guilt slapped you in the face, immediately regretting to contain your neediness.

You wanted to follow him to apologise, but you knew he needed some time alone. So you stayed on the couch, continuously picturing the horrified look on his face. You wanted to cry, but it wasn't about you. It was about Jason. You knew his boundaries, and you crossed them.

A few hours in, you were still on a couch, now with a cup of lukewarm coffee in your hands, patiently waiting for Jason to come out so you can apologise.

So when you heard the creak of the door opening, your posture straightened and put the coffee onto the table in front of you.

You waited for Jason to say something as he sat beside you, now with a long sleeved shirt on.

"I'm sor-" You quickly cut off his apology.

"Don't you dare say that, Jay. It was my fault. I knew where you drew the line and- and I crossed that line. I didn't mean to- I really didn't, I just-"

It was Jason's turn to interrupt you as he gently took hold of your chin, locking your lips with yours.

"I forgive you," he mumbles through the tender kiss.

A month or two later, when you entered the front door after a long day of a morning shift at work, you heard a bang coming from the bedroom in which you quickly ran towards it, only thinking of the worst that could happen with Jason.

When you opened the door, a trashed room was revealed. Clothes dishevelled on the floor, the knick knacks from your windowsill were knocked over, and the full-length mirror was slightly cracked.

Standing in front of the mirror, Jason stood, only in his boxers, his face was red, his nose was runny, and his eyes were bloodshot. But what stood out the most were the red lines over his body, particularly over his scars, to what you assumed were harsh scratch lines, coming from his own fingertips.

You dropped all your things and took one step forward, testing to see if he's let you come into close contact with him, which he usually doesn't. This case, it might've been serious because he whimpers your name, failing an attempt of trying to reach out to you as his hands just fall limp to his sides.

You quickly rush over to him, holding his face in your hands, wiping away his thick, salty tears.

You can hear the barely audible whispers of self insults from him. "I'm hideous." "I'm a monster." "How could you love me?"

You shsuh him by gently pushing your lips to his dry ones. You then ask a "Can I?" In a hush whisper, referring if you can touch his scars.

In hesitancy, he nods a slow yes. You start off easy. With his hands. A long scar that went over his hand, just stopping at the wrist. You gave it a kiss. Followed by the scar next to it. You do the same with his other hand.

Slowly, you finish kissing the scars that cover his arms. You do the same to the ones scattered all over his body. His knees, his thighs, his calves, his spine, his lower back, his shoulders.

You saved the big and most obvious one for last. His autopsy scar. Before your lips came into contact, you started with your fingers. You traced the Y shaped burden, drawing a few imaginary hearts and stars here and there.

The only thing stopping Jason from proposing to yoh right now was the lack of a garnet ring. He absolutely adored you, thinking how an angel like you can even love, let alone touch someone like him.

He then broke down, more tears cascading his face when the first kiss landed on the right side of his chest. But this time, he didn't push you away. When you looked up to see if you could continue, he gave you a slight nod. You gave him a small smile and continued your journey down his torso.

For the first time in an incredibly long while, probably since he first got adopted and became Robin, he felt loved. He felt wanted. And that was all you.

You lifted yourself back up. Jason's tears had dried. You lean your forhead to his. You whisper to him how much you love him. How much he means to you. How much he deserves to be loved.

And from that moment, Jason let you love all of him. He let you look at him, and he let you touch him. And from that moment, little by little, Jason started to love himself too.

It was another while before yoh and Jason initiated more sexual advances. But when you did, it was back on the couch, back to you straddling his lap, back to him shirtless and back to a slow make-out session.

It was back to your lips trailing down his jaw and onto his chest. When your lips touched his autopsy scar, you could've sworn on your mother's grave that you heard a whine out of him.

You looked up and saw his head thrown back, as well as his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he whimpered a "Please, baby. Please, give me more," in which you happily complied.

Your kissing travelled every inch of the large scar, including smaller ones scattered along his waist, meeting up to the messy, black happy trail that led to his waistband.

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somnoir · 6 months ago

Text

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Wraith wrecked havoc like no other.

He was loved and hated by the masses. Defended by Gotham regardless of what they felt of him. A figure in the underworld that hunted down those who moved to harm one of their kin and executed anyone who laid their hands in the weak—children.

The first explosion had been explained by the scattering papers and the anonymous posts of an organization who went after children with malicious intent. Blatant evidence that had people rallying to the GCPD to demand for justice. It was glorious and horrific—especially once they found out that it was Wraith who tossed the Joker into the harbor.

The Bats, by all means, attempt to find him. Figure him out, at least. But the man was a mystery. It was worse considering the majority of Gotham were eagerly telling the Bats to fuck off whenever they tried to hunt down Wraith. The only thing they ever got out of him was that his second in command—Phantom—was the nicer one between them. If you wanted civil negotiations, try and look for Phantom instead.

As much as they wanted to go directly to Wraith, this was their best shot. Their only shot.

"Had any luck finding Phantom?" Dick's hand rested on Tim's shoulder, trying to support his clearly tired brother. Tim was a little to determined, kinda desperate to find this guy.

"Nothing. Their names are trigger words." Tim clicked his tongue, "It's fucking up the system. Remember Ghostmaker's ghostnet? Any attempts makes you want to shut off your systems because of how encrypted they could get."

"Searching up their names gave the Batcomputer a virus?!" Steph gawked, leaning over Tim and staring at the computer. They could all tell he was wary, trying not to type in certain words to keep the damn tech sage from that mania.

"Wraith and Phantom are either metas with technology altering powers..." Barbara hums, "Or they have someone else doing this. Imagine them having their own version of the calculator... But worse and more annoying."

"So our new crime lord has a hacker... That has given the Batcomputer a virus." Dick slowly said, "And is still operating without us finding out."

"Hood and Robin are out trying to find Phantom." Barbara points to the two dots hurriedly moving through crime alley. "Hopefully they find him."

"Any news on Wraith?"

"His latest stint involved tearing down one of Black Mask's operations. Several bodies were found in the harbor."

"Why the harbor?"

"It's his MO, I think. It's always the harbor where he dumps the bodies."

Tim frowns, "Like it's his trash can.... For bodies."

"Hasn't the harbor always been the body trash can of Gotham?" Steph sighs, before turning away to stare at Cass who was training in the simulators again.

Dick glared at her for the comment but once again looked back to the screen.

"Hopefully they find Phantom soon... before Wraith drops more bodies."

Phantom was the nicer of the two—claimes by many people who told them Wraith was a little on the quieter side. No one truly knew but he was quieter than a lot of them.

Crime Alley was Red Hood's territory, everyone knew that. But apparently, Wraith has been operating in the same area from time to time. Mainly to return kids to the alley (freshly claimed by that flaiming white symbol). But Wraith did so quietly. They checked in from time to time to see if the kids were alright.

To be specific...

Phantom came to visit to see if the children they had returned and claimed were safe. Often coming with resources that he mainly reserved for the kids.

"Found him." Jason muttered, voice distorted through the modulator as he narrowed his eyes at the young man dressed in monochrome colors. His binoculars zeroed on the young man with white (seriously??) boots and gloves. The rest of his outfit was black, with a jacket still in monochrome colors. Jason frowned at the hood that covered his head.

"Let's go, Hood. Nightwing and father wants—"

"Stay out of it, Robin." Hood instantly growled. Jason has never felt so territorial before but this guy was in his territory—doing good, keeping the kids safe, marking them so no one tried going after them. "Phantom is Wraith's lieutenant. We don't need to make an enemy of the nicer one and piss of the one who ordered the explosion."

"I can handle him!"

"You'll piss him off!"

Robin scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you won't? Phantom clearly is fond of children and I am a child—"

"With katanas. You're a murderous child. Wraith and Phantom claim children who are in danger. Not the danger." Jason scoffed, while Damian opted to look utterly smug at the statement.

"Stay here." Jason drops down from the building.

He, unfortunately, didn't account for Phantom pulling out a sword from nowhere and immediately pointing it at Jason. The kids behind the man were quick hide behind him, cowering in fear until the recognition sets in their eyes.

"Wait! That's the Red Hood!" A girl yells, standing between them. Stupid but very brave. "He's one of the good ones!"

Phantom, who wore a mask that covered half his face yet showed his eyes, immediately lowered his sword once the girl was between them.

Jason froze, unable to tear his gaze away from Lazarus eyes—no... That shade of green was much purer than the pits... Phantom narrowed his eyes at Jason, before turning back to the girl. "You go and take care of your little sister, yeah? If your mom forgets to feed you again, tell her I'll give her a visit."

The girl nods, but she whirled around and gave Jason the nastiest glare an 8-year-old could give. "You hurt mr. Phantom and I'll tell Wraith!" She pointed an accusing finger at him, frowning before she gives Phantom a quick hug and makes a run for it with the other kids.

Soon enough, they're left alone... Staring at one another.

"I was wondering when one of you Bats would finally find me." Phantom hums, sliding his hand over the hilt of his sword.

Jason warily watched it disappear from sight. Okay. Possible meta, definitely has powers. "You're a hard man to find, Phantom."

"Not for you, I guess. I come and go into your haunt to check in on the kids every week." Phantom laughs, tilting his head.

Jason could see snow white hair from under the hood, making him shudder as the deathly green eyes are brought back to his attention.

"Every week, huh?" Jason clicked his tongue. "I'll cut to the chase. Your boss's stint—" he swore that Phantom twitched "—pissed of the big Bat. He ain't happy tnag Wraith is bombing up buildings and killing people."

Phantom visibly rolled his eyes, "Too bad then. Wraith's pretty direct when it comes to this shit. Trafficking and pimping kids make him murderous but the fact that those bastards were killing them and selling their organs? He's damn genocidal at this point. Can't say I disagree with that."

Jason... Well... Jason can't argue with that. If he found out that some bastards were doing that to kids, he'd go ballistic too. But Bruce didn't agree with these methods and was rather reproachful about it. But Wraith wasn't going to back down. This wasn't a normal rogue that had felt fear of the Batman and his brood before. To be honest, Jason thinks he's pretty ballsy.

"I don't disagree with that shit either. But Batman ain't going to let him off the hook after that stunt." Jason warned, grunting as he spoke through the modulator. The pits were flaring up again. But not malicious, not murderous. It was curious as it warmed his chest and practically urged him to get closer to Phantom.

"Yes, well... Piece of advice—Wraith is willing to blow up an entire district if it meant keeping others safe. And besides, your rogues know not to mess with him. Not after the Joker." He didn't actually see Phantom's face but he's pretty sure that the bastard was grinning.

"So he really did it."

"If it makes you feel any better, the Joker might as well be cursing him from the afterlife. It was an accident." Phantom shrugged.

An accident, Jason breathed out. Holy fuck, that would have been humiliating for the Joker. His death. An accident. Unintentional and he still died, his body dumped into the harbor.

"Anyways, tell Batsy not to mess with the kids. I know he doesn't, but he let the Joker live, so..." Phantom gave him a thumbs up, "Make sure to not cross pass with Wraith or else you'll end up in the harbor."

Jason gawked, watching as Phantom slipped into the shadows and promptly disappeared. Meta. Definitely a meta.

"Hood, report." Batman's voice rang through the comms.

"Red Hood," he grunts, "Wraith sure as hell doesn't like you, old man. And Phantom might be the nice one but he might as well be as stabby as Robin."

"I agree with Hood. He has wonderful posture, father!" Robin spoke, sounding impressed and smug.

The little shit.

"Technus, stop bullying Oracle." Dan groaned once he caught the ghost tampering with the net... Again.

The crime lord turned towards Danny, who melted out of the shadows again. Technus was blabbering about pesky bats and birds before Dante clocked his younger brother's apprehension. He looked....annoyed and concerned.

"I talked to Red Hood."

"YOU WHAT?!"

"Fun fact! He's a revenant!"

"THE FUCK YOU MEAN THE OTHER CRIME LORD IS A REVENAN?!"

"A very sexy looking one."

He was going to punch Danny. He was going to fucking punch Danny.

(Danny was not punched.)

"He said that Batman's pissy about you blowing up shit." Danny shrugged, shaking his head before floating over to the energy drinks and coffees by Dan's desk. "Good news though! I told him he'd end up in the harbor if he ever tried anything with us."

Dan gawked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You want to make the bats our enemies?"

"No! I'm commiting to our crime family bit!"

"We're not a crime family!"

"Tell that to Ellie. She's already got herself a new suit and everything."

Dan threw his hands up in the air, groaning at the insanity that was his younger siblings. Dear ancients, he was praying that Jazz wouldn't find out about the shit they've done in Gotham. She'd give them the worst tongue lashing the world has ever experienced if she did. Thank God she was in Yale right now.

"Ooh! A crime family, you say?" Technus grinned, floating closer to Danny who lounged in Dan's chair. (Get the fuck away from my crime lord throne, Danny! The leather is expensive!)

"That is perfect! The others have decided to migrate here, did you know? It's been quite... Boring back in Amity." Technus snickered.

Fuck. No.

"I bet my trust from Vlad that Johnny, Kitty, and Ember are already on their way." Danny cackled, "That'd be nice. Elle's been itching to steal Johnny's bike again."

"Splendid! We shall wreck havoc upon Gotham and exact justice that the Bats cannot give the people!" And like a supervillain, Danny cackled as he stood on Dan's desk, laughing maniacally.

(Just outside, the Wraith's goons peaked into the room and saw the insanity that was the nice lieutenant's villainy.)

Meanwhile, in the distance, the laughter of Johnny 13 and Kitty rang through the streets of Gotham.

Part 3 | Masterpost

#Gotham's newest Crime Lord #dead on main #maybe #jason todd #batman #crossover #nightwing #red hood #danny fenton #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #Dan is stressed cause the nice one is kinda more chaotic #He's trying his best to be good okay!#Danny and Elle are kinda set on making a crime family of ghosts to mess up Gotham #The bats are just as stressed as Dan at this point #Babs and Tim are now Technus' nemesis

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insomniaccorner · 26 days ago

Text

And Then You Were There

POV: Second person Genre: Angst / Found Family / Soft Reconciliation Word Count: ~2.5k Summary: You vanished without warning. No trace, no message, no fight. And then, just as suddenly… you came back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It starts with a knock on the Manor’s side door.

Alfred opens it first, thinking it might be a courier.

Instead, it's you.

Backpack over one shoulder, hood up, like you just stepped out for air and forgot to come back for six weeks.

“…Hello,” you say.

Alfred doesn’t speak right away.

He opens the door all the way. Slowly. Like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again.

“You’re back,” he says finally, voice careful.

You shrug.

“Yeah. Just needed space.”

You think they’ll all be mad.

They are.

But that’s not the first thing they say.

Bruce appears like a ghost in the hallway — dressed in casual clothes, but with the weight of the cowl still hanging from his shoulders. His eyes scan every inch of you like he's checking for blood, bruises, bombs.

“Where the hell were you?” he says.

You don’t answer. You just mutter something about needing to clear your head, and that you’re sorry for ghosting everyone.

He doesn’t reply. He just turns around and walks away, fists clenched at his sides.

Dick hugs you like you died and he didn’t get a funeral.

You don’t hug back right away, so he pulls away — just slightly — and cups your face in both hands.

“You can’t do that,” he says softly. “You can’t just vanish.”

You try to joke. “Didn’t know you missed me that much.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“Don’t do that, either,” he says. “Don’t act like it didn’t matter. It did.”

Then he pulls you into another hug. Fiercer this time. Like he's afraid you'd vanish if he blinked.

Jason doesn’t say anything at first.

He sees you walk into the kitchen, stops mid-step, and just stares.

His mouth opens. Closes.

Then he turns and walks out.

You find him in the garage twenty minutes later, sitting on the hood of his bike, running a hand through his hair.

“I just needed to get out,” you try.

Jason snorts. “Yeah. So did I, once. When I died.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t look at you.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he mutters.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, you did.”

You stare at the floor. “You’re mad.”

“I was mad. Now I’m just tired.”

Then, softer:

“Are you staying this time?”

You don’t answer.

He nods anyway. “Didn’t think so.”

But he makes you a plate later that night and leaves it outside your door.

Tim doesn’t yell.

He doesn’t cry.

He just doesn’t stop working.

For days after you’re back, he’s in the Batcave for sixteen-hour stretches. When you ask if he wants to talk, he shrugs and says “talk about what?”

You say you’re sorry.

He says, “Cool.”

You say you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.

He says, “Yeah, but you did anyway.”

You say you thought disappearing would be better than making it worse.

And that’s what finally gets him to snap.

“Do you seriously think we’re better off not knowing if you’re alive?”

You flinch.

He doesn’t apologize.

He just adds, voice hoarse:

“You don’t get to decide how replaceable you are to other people.”

Then he goes back to his monitor.

But when you check the logs later, you see a new folder labeled with your name — filled with location pings and missing persons alerts from the last month and a half.

He didn’t sleep much either.

Damian acts like he doesn’t care.

“You return as suddenly as you vanished,” he says with a scoff. “Predictable.”

You expect him to be distant. Cold.

But you find sketches in the trash with your face on them.

You find your combat gear cleaned and set aside in the locker room.

And one night, you catch him standing outside your door. Just… standing.

He doesn’t knock. Doesn’t say anything. Just lingers.

You don’t open the door.

But you whisper, “I missed you, too.”

And he walks away, ears pink.

It takes Alfred cornering you in the hallway to finally get you to say why.

“It wasn’t about you guys,” you mumble, chewing at your sleeve. “It was just… me.”

“And yet it affected all of us,” he replies gently. “You are not a ghost, Master/Mistress [Y/N]. You cannot vanish without shaking the walls you’ve become a part of.”

You choke out something that might be a sob. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Alfred frowns.

Then straightens your collar with a gentleness that hurts.

“If the people who love you must suffer in silence so you can disappear in peace, that is not freedom. That is loneliness. And you deserve better.”

You nod, tears hot in your eyes.

Eventually, you stop acting like you never left.

And they stop pretending they’re not hurt.

The first family dinner after your return is awkward.

Jason throws a fork. Tim almost leaves. Bruce doesn’t say a word until dessert.

Then:

“I’m still angry,” he says. “But I’m glad you’re home.”

And somehow, that’s enough.

You don’t vanish again.

But the next time you feel like you might?

You don’t run.

You knock on Jason’s door instead.

He doesn’t even look up. Just says, “Figured it was coming. Sit down.”

So you do.

And for once, someone stays.

#batfam #dc universe #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #batfam x reader #i'm alive

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ashwhowrites · 3 months ago

Note

Ash!!! I’m so happy you’re back! When I noticed I unfollowed and refollowed so you’d be at the top of my list lol. Sorry about that I just need quick access to your addictive stories. Welcome welcome welcome back! ❤️

I’ve requested anon before you left but because you’re back I wanted to do one with my name just to further show my excitement to have you and your stories back! Social anxiety is a thing and I feel weird making requests usually but I’ll shove that aside so you know how much you were missed! And how thankful I am to see you WELL above all. So glad you got some inspo back and are up to writing again, never any pressure though!! Take your time and enjoy what you write!

I was thinking for my request... 👀 I’m wanting it to start angsty and end happy. Really mean Eddie sinking to bully level. a mistaken identity, Eddie believes reader has said/done something nasty to him or the hellfire boys but it wasn’t her.

So he’s awful to her, outright mean. She tries to go meet him at the picnic table to figure out why he’s being so hateful (because she’s always secretly admired and crushed on him) and he really sets into her. (Nothing physical, although crowding her or making her back up is okay.) He says some nasty things he doesn’t actually believe and she runs from him in tears. He’s still pissed so he starts a rumor about her that day. (Something Hawkins would gossip about, make her out to be a freak so she sees what it’s like for Eddie b/c again he’s confusing her for other girl.)

It works, next week at school everyone is shunning her, only a few friends stay by her. He hears Dustin talking about her and his mess up is revealed! Dustin (no one knows Eddie started the rumor) is like how could you forget who she is? She’s the one who talked the theater teacher into letting us use their stereo for atmosphere tapes during hellfire! (Doesn’t have to be that if you have a better idea!) And (some other similarly nice and supportive thing to further twist the knife here, like snuck them prop goblets and costumes or whatever you think)!

Eddie is disgusted that he let himself be like Jason. After school he finds her in the drama room before Hellfire. She and Eddie are the only people there and she looks terrified of him. He breaks and tears up, maybe actually cries?, begging her on his knees in dramatic Eddie fashion for forgiveness as he fumbles his way through a messy, babbling explanation. After listening to him she tells him about all the chaos and strife his rumor caused But! she accepts his apology and agrees to give him a chance to redeem himself.

Omg I’m so sorry this is fifty-leven years long. 😩 hope that’s all okay? So so much love and thanks for even reading this monster ask lol. No pressure, just so happy that you’re back! May you stay inspired and get joy from every piece you write. ❤️❤️

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Mistaken identity

Eddie was popular in a way that people knew exactly who he was and most things about him. Everyone knew he lived in a trailer park, contributing to the nickname of trailer trash he often heard. People knew he was in a band, just figured he sang about the devil. The students knew he was part of the Hellfire club, leading them to believe he was weird. As everything above him mixed together, people declared him a freak.

He was popular to Y/N in a different way. She didn't care that he lived in a trailer park. She wished to see his band play and listen to his songs. She thought hellfire was creative, and she even helped them with some campaigns, just behind-the-scenes work. Above everything, she had a massive crush.

She wasn't sure if it was the sexy long hair, the dark tattoos, the chains, or his dorky smile that won her over. But she was stumbling and tripping in love with the obvious boy. She wished they talked more, but he often gave her the cold shoulder. Which at first, she didn't mind as he gave everyone the same attitude. But she couldn't help but think she deserved to be treated slightly better. She didn't deserve to be treated poorly like all the people who were mean to him. She was nice and sweet to him. And it broke her heart more and more when he refused to acknowledge her.

Everything stung more when she was in love.

~~~

Eddie hated everyone, but there were a few on his list whom he hated with every bone in his body. No matter what they said to him, he wanted to rip them apart with his teeth. Jason was a given, but there was one girl that Eddie hated just as much. Her name was Y/N, and it all started in middle school. He'll never forget when she broke him into tears right before the talent show. The mean names she called him and painted a picture of him that he didn't want to be. She was just another person who looked down on him all because he didn't have a rich daddy.

He was positive she didn't remember it because she acted all friendly and fake with him. He hated that she was attractive; it wasn't enough to make him like her, but just enough that if he was with her too long, he'd give in.

~~~

Y/N's crush continued to grow. And it was getting to a point where it was all she could think about. So, she was going to talk to him.

His deals in the woods weren't as secretive as he thought. Y/N knew where to find him.

She was nervous as the sticks crunched under her feet, signaling her arrival. Eddie's eyes hardened upon seeing her, and she tried not to turn around.

"Not happening, princess," he spat as he stood up.

"Eddie, can you just hear me out?" she asked. She tried not to feel defeated as he packed up his stuff.

"Yeah, right," he laughed, throwing his backpack on his shoulder.

"You never listen to me! I just want to ta-" her voice cut out when he walked to her. His chest puffed out as he looked down at her, breathing heavily. It was clear as day he was pissed off, and she was slightly scared.

"I don't give a shit what you want, got it? I can't stand you. I hate you, and I hate everything about you. I don't want to talk because I couldn't care less about you. Can you get that through your head?" his voice was getting louder as he got closer. He was growling in her face, and she couldn't help but back up.

She scrunched her nose as she felt tears filling her eyes. She really didn't want to cry in front of him. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"I beg you, do me a favor and leave me alone."

"I tried," she whispered. She sniffled as she cried. He rolled his eyes, seeing the tears rolling down her face. She was quick to run away, allowing herself to cry.

~~~

She was terrified to see him the next day. Her head was down as she walked through the building. She knew the day would be awful, but she didn't think the situation would get worse.

A rumour began to spread that she made moves on the freak. She couldn't believe someone had made that up. And it made her wonder who saw them out there.

People who never noticed her before seemed to watch her every move. All of a sudden, everyone was interested in her, and she hated it. She was embarrassed to know that her crush was the topic of the news and she was being made fun of for it.

She made sure to stay clear of Eddie, not looking up from her feet unless she was in class.

Eddie finally felt at peace after his talk with Y/N. He got to say what he thought he wanted and spread a little rumor around the school. He wanted her to be mocked and labeled as a freak, just like she did to him.

Eddie was enjoying his day, a smile on his face as he headed towards the lunch room. He sat at his usual table, hand on Dustin's shoulders as he sat down.

"Dude, have you heard about Y/N? I can't believe people are being so mean to her because she tried to make a move on you!"

"Well, she should've thought it through," Eddie shrugged.

"What did you do? Did you let her?" Dustin asked

"Of course not!" Eddie scoffed. "I only mean business during my deals."

"Maybe you should clear it up. I mean she's super nice and has done a lot for us," Dustin explained.

"What has she done for us?" Eddie asked

"She's president of the student council! She allowed the club, she provided a place for us to play. She held donations to help with the custom T-shirts. She's done a lot and I think you owe her that."

Eddie had an unsettling feeling in his stomach. "Wait wait, she did all of that? Why? She hates me!"

"She doesn't hate you!"

"Yeah, she does! She ruined my performance at the talent show and mocked me for being poor. She's just like everyone else." Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"I truly don't think she's ever done that. She isn't the type," Dustin said. "Are you thinking of the right person?"

"Of course, I'm thinking of the right per -" Eddie's voice trailed to silence as the gears moved in his head. It wouldn't make sense for her to help him out if she hated him. He tried to think back to that night in middle school, the blurry face of the girl becoming clear. "FUCK!"

Dustin jumped as he yelled. He watched as Eddie stood up and looked around the room. Before he could spot her the bell rang.

Eddie couldn't find her anywhere and he knew why. He practically threatened her if he ever saw her again. With defeat, he entered the drama room. He was shocked to see someone already there.

"Hello?" He asked, the body jumped and turned around. He was shocked to see it was her.

She didn't say anything but he noticed the way her hands began to shake as she quickly cleaned off the table.

"Hey listen," but she was quick to cut him off.

"I know, I'm sorry! I thought I'd be done by now. I'm just gonna clean it up and out of your way!" She stumbled, her voice was shaky as she held back tears.

"No, listen. I fucked up really bad with you," he sighed.

She looked at him, a little stunned.

He went to walk towards her but froze as she jumped back. He felt even worse as he realized how scared she was. He wasn't any better than the bullies he dealt with all his life.

"Don't be scared, I want to apologize for everything," he said. She was a little skeptical as she watched him drop to his knees.

He placed his palms together like a prayer as he hung his head in shame. "I'm incredibly sorry for yesterday and for being rude to you all these years. You never once deserved it, and I'm ashamed of my actions," he looked up at her, and she was surprised to see his eyes slightly glisten. "I thought you were someone else, someone who ruined my life in middle school. Embarrassing to say I completely was holding a grudge and it wasn't even you. I started the rumor because I wanted people to think you were a freak like me. You were innocent and I hate that I did that. I also hate that you are scared of me," he cried. "I hate that people are scared of me."

She chewed on her bottom lip as his voice cracked and tears began to fall down his cheeks. "Eddie you caused so much damage. It's hard to not be a little scared of what you are capable of doing. I mean the heat I've got from a silly rumour? Imagine what else you could have done."

"I'm sorry. Please don't be scared of me," he whimpered. Her heart fell to her feet as she walked over and cupped his face, kneeling down to his level.

"I'm not scared," she said confidently. She offered a small smile as she wiped his tears. "I hope you know that I would never want to hurt you. I've got too much of a soft spot for you."

"I truly am so sorry," he whispered. Melting into her hand.

"I believe you, and I guess maybe I can give you another shot. After you tell everyone the truth. " she smiled. "Should we start over?"

"Thank you," he sighed in relief, "And I will! I'll tell everyone the truth and never treat you that way again." He stood up, helping her to her feet. "Starting over right now!"

She laughed as he jumped out the door, letting it fully close before he re-entered.

"Well, hello gorgeous," he smirked, "what's your name?"

"Y/N, and you are?" She smiled as she placed her hands on the table behind her, leaning.

"Eddie's the name, do you come here often?" He flirted as he placed his hand on the table next to hers and leaned down.

She blushed as he was inches away from her face. The closest she has ever been to him. "I don't." She couldn't wipe the smile off her face even if she tried.

He clicked his tongue, turning his head as he smiled down at her. "Maybe you should."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #ashwhowrites #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader

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goddessficlover · 3 months ago

Text

Alice In Gotham Pt 2

The Bats had been on edge that last 2 months, to put it lightly. Oracle was sure she heard movement above her in the clock tower. She had assumed it was one if the Bats but none of them moved that sloppily unless hurt. And yet, all their vitals looked fine on her monitors. She called Spoiler to check it out since she was the closest. What they found was nothing at all. Except the dust was unnatural. No foot prints or evidence of crawling. Like something had been dead there for a long period of time, then suddenly scrambled awake and disappeared. The way some of the dust was still settling when she got there was eerie and sent chills down the purple bat's spine. They set up a camera and motion detector to monitor the space, and after 2 months nothing came. Still, for Oracle’s sanity and Batman's paranoia, they left the camera there as a precaution.

Other than that, Gotham seemed to have less attacks, or crimes in general, than usual. Even crime alley, things were actually running. According to Intel, some homeless kid called Scraps was fixing things for small businesses and people who simply couldn't afford to replace things in exchange for food or pocket change. Sometimes he even did it for free if it was urgent. Not only that but apparently the kid could defend himself. Had saved a couple of the night girls from people who didn't understand the word “no”. They'd give him treats when he came by once in a while. Simple things like a lollipop or a granola bar. Concerningly though, they also said he'd eat it with the wrappers still on. Kid was eating actual trash to survive. That, meant Red Hood had to try and keep an eye on him. The problem was the kid kept fucking disappearing. No one knew where he was living, or if he even slept. Sometimes he'd be around early morning, or late at night. The kid had no schedule except for Sundays. When no one was watching the dump, he go and steal broken tech or salvage tools and other scraps. It was the only time Hood managed to get a glance at the kid. Didn't even need to be close because damn those blue eyes were bright, even under his hoodie. Fuck, that was adoption bait and the others were going to go nuts. Tying to follow Scraps back to his hide out was another loss, he completely disappeared around a corner as if he was never even there.

“Hold on, you said this kid works with tech but you can't catch him?” Red Robin asked.

“Nope, couldn't even find anything through the power grid. He might be working on something but he's not even using electricity for it. Or he somehow managed to get it while staying off the grid,” Red Hood responded. Red Robin was the last person he wanted to ask for help, but it had been 2 months, and this whole week not one person had been able to confirm if Scraps was around. No one had seen him since he said he had a job. Not Hood or Jason had been able to make contact since he first popped up in crime alley. At this point he was going to break his TV and hire the kid just to make sure they were okay. Kids disappearing was never a good sign. No one fucked with kids on his turf.

“Jason… what does the kid look like?” Red Robin sighed while working on the batcomputer to check crime alley more thoroughly.

Taking a deep breath and sighing he spoke up, “Adoption bait.”

“We can not let B know about him,” Tim groaned as he drank out of a nearly empty coffee mug.

“B is not taking another kid to put into a suit. The kid’s mine to keep an eye out for,” Red Hood growled below his helmet before taking a breath, “Besides, with how smart the kid is, he'll probably get a scholarship to some school out here and end up at Wayne Enterprise anyway. He can wait a few years to meet him.”

“Hey boys,” Oracle chimed in from the Bat computer, “I've located the kid, he tends to make camera a little fuzzy around his face but those eyes are recognizable. He was spotted a week ago in the warehouse district. The same place we have a lead on scarecrow’s fear gas.”

“Fuck,” was all Red Hood said before getting back on his bike.

“Red Hood is going to investigate. Anything else you can find on him? Maybe a facial scan so we can get him back to his family?” Red Robin began going through the warehouse cameras to find which warehouse he went into, “Damn it, the same night as that storm? We can't get any good views after he entered Warehouse 56.”

“I'm going to check it out now,” Red Hood responded, “Keep B off my back. I don't want him involved, Scraps is my case.”

“I'll try, but you know he still makes mistakes with boundaries,” Oracle responded, “Should I call in Nightwing for you?”

“No, not yet. But fill him in. Something doesn't feel right about this. Red Hood out.”

—

It took four days and about 24 renewed microchips for Hatter to keep Danny asleep. It frustrated him to no end that the chips kept wearing out after four hours. Eventually he decided some hypnosis was in order and asked the kid directly why It wasn't working.

“Regular tech doesn't respond well to my presence,” he answered soullessly.

“Really? How can you get it to work?” Hatter was surprised his Alice understood what was going on and how to fix it.

“It needs to be infused with my blood,” he answered a half truth. While under control his subconscious need to keep everything ghostly a secret somehow still came through.

“Is that all? That's so simple… Go back to sleep Alice. When you wake you will be perfect,” he ordered and Danny's eyes shut.

Danny wasn't in anything impressive at the moment. A white night gown, plain and simple, while laying in a bed. They had moved from the warehouse to Hatter's hideout where he had access to all the tech he needed. Hatter wasn't happy to see the scars over Danny's body. His poor Alice had be hurt, been held captive by the looks of the marks on his wrists and ankles. A scar hidden in his freckles on the bridge of his nose along side others, Hatter could hide them with make up but still he felt distaste for who every damaged Alice’s face.

In another day's time, Hatter had created a diadem with multiple chips throughout it's construction as a failsafe. All, infused with Danny's oddly green glowing blood. When it came time, his Alice was properly cleaned by the March Hare and her now finished dress was applied, along with the waterproof silver diadem. It locked into place, no simple tug off from Batman or any of the birds would work. It had to be completely unlocked to be removed. His Alice, harmed by someone else's touch was too precious to lose. It was a hard battle to get her fully under his control after all. He wasn't going to risk anything. He skin was already pale, pale like a porcelain doll. That was what this Alice was for. A doll to admire from afar for her beauty alone. Dressed in her sky blue dress with her white apron. Her puffed sleeves and white gloves to cover the scars on her wrists. Bloomers for added volume to the ruffle skirt, and of course the thigh high white socks with mary jane's shoes. A long blond wig with bangs to hide the diadem was placed on her head, another chip in the wig before the wig was glued down, as he didn't want to risk damaging her precious skin more than it was. instead Of a headband, A ribbon was tied into her hair instead. A porcelain Alice, one Hatter would keep by his side so as to not lose her.

His perfect Alice.

—

Staking out the warehouse didn't find Scraps, but they did find a surplus of fear gas being manufactured by scarecrow with what was the most efficient assembly line these goons could have put together. It was an easy take down when Nightwing and Spoiler joined in for a takedown to stop the plan to gas the city before it started. The goons were hardly a challenge, and Red Robin would be able to make a new antidote for the rebreathers incase there was another warehouse like this one. The one thing that caught their attention was a gutted microwave on display on a side table. Evidence Scraps was here. Fuck.

“What did you do to the kid?” Red Hood growled, grabbing one of the few conscious goons who had been ziptied.

“What kid?” Spoiler hadn't been let in on the Scraps case.

“Kid?” the goon looked confused.

“Scraps. What did you do to Scraps? He fixes tech to make money. You guys had him here. Tell me what you did with him or yours knees are going to bend in reverse,” Hood snarled and the guy pales.

“We hired him to fix the assembly line. Told him it was for screwing tops on bottles. Paid him and fed him. He pulled the microwave out of thin air, and used it to fix the motor or something. He left into the storm after we paid him,” the goons caved and Hood tossed him towards the pile of them where they were waiting for the police.

“So the only evidence of Scraps is a microwave he pulled out of thin air? How does that even work, it's a microwave. You can't just hide that thing. That's not even a little one, that one looks like it was built into the wall originally,” Nightwing looked at the microwave and used some light dust from his bag before brushing it away, “There's fingerprints all over. Mostly large ones, how small is Scraps?”

“Little smaller than Robin,” Red Hood answered.

“Red Hood, Nightwing, I have eyes on Scraps with Mad Hatter,” Oracle chimed him, and the tension in the warehouse rose, “3 days ago he's spotted leaving warehouse 64 with the March Hare and Scraps following.”

“Fuck,” Hood punched one the machines, as he processed the information. Scraps was pretty androgynous looking. Hatter usually preferred natural blonde but those glowing blue eyes probably drew his attention. A wig would be an easy fix, “Scan everywhere you can Oracle, if Hatter has him we’re on a time limit.”

“Littlewing,” Nightwing placed a hand on Hood’s shoulder, “We'll find Scraps. She- they can't be gone for long. Hatter never stops with just one Alice, he'll leave a trail and we'll follow it.”

“Red Robin, Oracle,” Hood spoke into his com, “Do you have any other leads to Hatter’s location?”

“No yet, but we'll keep searching,” Oracle answered.

“Can I get in on this Scraps case? The tower ghost is coming up dead,” Spoiler asked and Nightwing left to talk with the arriving officers who took the goons into custody.

Red Hood sighed. He'd like to keep crime alley business out of the rest of Gotham, but this kid could be anywhere in Gotham now. He needed to keep an eye on Crime alley too. He needed more eyes, as reluctant as he wasn't to accept it, “Fine. You and Orphan are in because I know you will tell her anyway. Keep Robin and Batman out of it. Kid looks like adoption bait. Goes by Scraps on the streets, their real name is unknown.”

“Sound like so are their pronouns,” Spoiler laughed, “Well keep our eyes out for them. Send the case file to me and Orphan. I'll fill her in about tonight. Should we tell Duke?”

“No, not yet,” Red Hood answered, “He can't keep a secret from B if he thinks it’s serious. We might have to if we can't find any leads to check if he can see something we can't. Scraps’ eyes are blue, like they're glowing. It’s hard to miss.”

“So, their a meta in hiding?” Spoiler asked as she walked away.

“If they are, Batman is gonna be pissed,” Nightwing responded on come.

“B can fuck off. It's not like people chose to be metas, kid probably didn't even know and has no where else to go. I'm checking out warehouse 64,” Hood left, riding his bike to warehouse 64 where he found a mostly empty lot.

There were a few forgotten things. Evidence of a tea party and a few discarded headbands. Timbit would be able to look at them later. What pissed Hood off to recognize the edging of green in his vision, was a discarded backpack, and clothes that had long since been hung to dry.

“I found Scraps personal belongings. He was here during the storm. His clothes are hung over a banister to dry. And his bag was left behind,” Hood opened the bag, two different tool boxes inside along with smaller parts of tech. Some snacks- a frozen apple?

“Spoiler might be right about this kid being a meta,” Hood spoke up.

“Really? What gave it away?” Spoiler responded through coms.

“I found an apple that's been frozen solid in a layer of frost in their bag along with tools and tech. They're an ice meta of some kind,” Hood examined the apple. The frost was intricate like lace and beautiful as it glistened in the moonlight. No evidence of melting at all. It was freezing to touch even through his reinforced gloves.

“But they left 3 days ago. How hasn't it melted?” Nightwing asked.

“Don't know but it's still cold. The kids got a bigass first aid kit in here too. Not even a water bottle. A frozen apple, three granola bars, and the rest is all tech or tools. He carries his work more than his survival supplies. He's got a place to stay somewhere but I haven't found it yet,” he put everything back into the back pack along with his clothes.

For now, it was a dead end. They needed a new trail, a clue, but they'd have to wait. Still, the idea of a child younger than Robin in the hands of the Hatter, it made Red Hood’s stomach churn something ugly as he fought back against the pit. When they found Jervis Tetch, he'd have first dips on punching the guy so hard he'd have to get replacement buck teeth.

—

Alice was still odd to Mad Hatter. She was under his control and the chips were no longer dying out. However there were small things she did. He complained about the temperature of the room being too high, and suddenly the room cooled while her eyes glowed even brighter. He never ordered her too, she did it on her own. She wasn't programed for that. He mentioned finding another girl to dress up Alice disappeared from his side and reappeared 20 minutes later with an unconscious woman in her arms. Blond hair, and blue eyes. Again, he never ordered her to do so. And yet, Hatter only felt glee as he realized his Perfect Alice could do more than his henchmen ever could in a very fast amount of time. But the best part was when he asked her to disappear for two minutes and she turned invisible right in front of him. His buck toothed smile was mad as he had a tool he'd never had before. A silent Alice who was as skilled in shadows and she was in the light. An Alice the bats couldn't follow back.

“Alice, my wonderful Alice, you are more than I have imagined. We are going to send some invitations soon. So for now, go rest in bed. Your mission will be ready by tomorrow night,” Mad Hatter grinned, “I have a Tea Party to plan for a special guest!”

---

A girl was reported missing, blonde hair and blue eyes. But no evidence of a break in what so ever. No locks were touched, only the bed where she had been sleeping was touched. Nothing on the camera aside from the quality being fuzzy. Odd, those should be updated cameras. This one may have to be replaced, or there was someone altering the feed. Oracle has yet to find evidence of tampering with the cameras. By appearance alone, one suspect on Batman’s list was Mad Hatter. He'd have to keep track of other kidnappings of women with similar appearances to be sure.

With nothing left to examine at the scene, Batman moved on. Robin following close behind, annoyed at the lack of evidence he'd managed to find. Not even a finger print, the culprit was wearing gloves. Most criminals wore gloves, it wasn't unusual.

The Batman came to a sudden halt, “Robin, we have confirmation Hatter is involved with the case.”

Robin landed besides his father and saw a blonde dressed in a blue frilly dress with an apron. It wasn't the same woman taken from her apartment. This was a child, probably a little younger than Robin, himself. She was alone, on a rooftop. Scanning the area there was no one else around. Just this child dressed as Alice, trapped under mind control.

“I shall remove the wig,” Robin approached.

“Oracle we have an Alice, send medical and alert the police,” Batman ordered as Robin slowly approached the hostage.

“B, are their eyes glowing?” Oracle asked.

“Oracle, does this have to do with Hood, Nightwing, and Spoiler’s sudden team up?” Batman asked, voice gruff with annoyance and frustration with their lack of reports from that event.

“Yes. The kid is called Scraps, and is suspect to be an ice meta. They had a frozen apple in their belongings. According to Hood it hasn’t melted yet. Kid went missing a week ago. We had a lead that revealed Mad Hatter is the one who took them,” Oracle gave a short report, and Batman grunted in return.

“Mad Hatter has invited you to a tea party,” a soulless voice suddenly came from the child as Robin was closing in.

The child was now holding out a green envelope. Masked eyes studied the arm holding out the letter for a moment, something made Robin stiffen subtly, Batman nearly missed it. Robin took the envelope and then tried to grab their wrist only for Alice to pull free and jump back. Now standing on the ledge towards the open street.

“Come forward, you will fall standing there. I mean you no harm,” Robin held out his hand to Alice.

“You are not permitted to touch me. The invite was delivered, goodbye,” With that, the Alice stepped back and fell.

Robin jumped after them, shooting his grappling hook to catch the wall only to find the Alice was gone. Batman had run after the child as well, both splitting into a silent search of the perimeter to find nothing. No sound of foot steps, nothing but the cars and people below. The Alice was gone, and no trail to follow them with.

“Nightwing, Spoiler, Red Hood, Batcave. Now,” Batman motioned for Robin to follow, clicking his tongue as the mysterious child escaped.

“Father, we still have the invite,” Robin handed the green envelope to Batman as they were returning to the manor. Only a quick pause to check the letter for trackers. The only thing inside was coordinates, a time, and the date two nights from now.

At the cave, Batman was forced to wait for the trio to appear. Nightwing arrived first, then Spoiler. No surprise Red Hood was last and took as long as possible.

“Report,” Batman ordered, sternly. Eyes narrowing at his children who yet again hid something from him.

“Scraps was taken by Tetch during the storm. Red Hood started the case a week after Scraps went missing. We want to find this lost meta kid and get them into a safe place or back home. Hood’s area says they has an accent so they might not want to be in the city,” Spoiler answered, “They work as a handyman, fixing up anything. A tech nerd like RR.”

“Tech nerd? The kid had garbage in his backpack. Broken everything and mangled parts that should have been considered unsalvageable. How the hell are they gonna build anything from that?” Red Robin groaned, getting Batman's attention, “Shit.”

“Anything to report, Red Robin?” Batman glared as another one of his children was in on the withholding of information.

“The kid makes cameras glitch out or just fuzzy sometimes. We can't get a facial scan no mater how much we try and salvage the images or the cameras themselves. Scraps does something to them that we haven't managed to bypass,” and that made a sad piece click into this new case.

“We just ran into an Alice with vibrant eyes. They jumped off the roof after giving us a set of coordinates, a time, and the date 2 nights from now. I went to catch them but they disappeared. No sound of the landing, just silence,” Robin spoke up.

“These coordinates?” Red Robin took the paper from Batman and found the location on Gotham’s map.

“Hm,” Batman replied, looking up at the screen. A trap, but there was time to prepare.

“I shall prepare a guest room, then,” Alfred appeared behind them with a trolley of sandwiches and tea for an after patrol snack.

“No, we are not bringing Scraps to the manor,” Red Hood argued, although it was pointless to argue with Alfred.

“So you say Master Jason. I just like to be prepared,” Alfred left as quickly as he came.

“Scraps looks like adoption bait,” Nightwing sighed as Orphan came in with a smile.

Bruce just sighed as he removed his cowl, “If this hostage is a meta, we'll need to focus on trying to free them from the mind control. We night need to use suppressor cuffs, or a collar. What ever we can get on them temporarily to avoid injury. We will prepare in the mean time. Hatter uses mind control, we will be fighting civilians, keep that in mind.”

“Father, there was an observation I had when I was close to the hostage,” Robin spoke up again, “When they held out the invitation with their left hand I could see lichtenberg scars traveling up their arm. But instead of being pink and irritated, they were almost pure white. Along with several other smaller scars on their arms. They felt cold for the second I grabbed them.”

Lichtenberg scars… They fade after a few days, which meant the kid was recently electrocuted… But why were they white? Red Hood took a breath, counting to 10 before focusing again.

“I need to know what happened to that kid and who's ass I need to kick,” Red Hood growled, after setting his empty plate back on the trolley.

“We’ll find them, now that we are all keeping an eye out. Tomorrow we patrol as normal, then we send a team after Hatter.”

—

Signal had been having a good morning patrol. He was quickly filled in on the Hatter situation and to try and follow the meta Alice if they came into contact. Signal was having a pretty normal patrol. Stopping a car jacking, a convenient store robbery, a mugging, and a purse snatcher. Nothing he couldn't handle on his own. Finally, a glimpse of shimmering sky blue caused Signal to stop in his tracks.

“Hey, there,” Signal turned to find the Alice, and just as described, their eyes were glowing. But so was the rest of their aura, it was flickering in an odd way, “Are you lost?”

“No,” they responded, and the aura began to fade a little more.

“Okay, you need me for something, right? Are you going to invite me to your team party tomorrow night?” Signal slowly approached. He just needed to be distracting enough that he could use a shadow to grab the wig.

“You do not have permission to touch me,” Alice turned transparent. The aura flared just as the shadow fell through them, missing the wig completely.

“Okay, I won't touch you,” Signal reached up to his com and spoke silently. Of course he didn't know Alice could hear him anyway, “Contact with meta Alice. They can density shift. My shadows passed through their body.”

“See what else you can learn about them. So far Meta Alice doesn't seem hostile,” Oracle responded, “If you can free or follow them back we might get a lead on either the trap or Hatter's base.”

“Copy,” Signal nodded, keeping the com on and recording the conversation for later. Alice was deathly still but their clothes and hair were flowing as if gravity and the wind had no effect on them, “Can you tell me what you need from me?”

“Has Robin read his invitation?” Alice tilted their head slightly, a habit Danny still maintained.

“Yes, was it just for Robin? Batman thought it was for both of them,” Signal hadn't actually seen the invitation himself, just the report about it.

“Just for Robin. Batman isn't invited,” their monotone voice continued. They lifted their left hand and held out a yellow envelope, “Mad Hatter has invited you to his tea party, Signal.”

“Okay, thank you,” Signal approached and took the envelope. Through Alice's gloves and his own, Signal felt a cold chill up his arm and down his spine.

“Goodbye,” they spoke before jump off the building, much like with Robin.

“Wait,” Signal tucked away the letter and followed Alice as their aura flared again. They never landed on the ground. Instead they were invisible on the physical plain and floating away slowly. Unfortunately the aura he followed soon disappeared with Alice all together, “Alice went west before disappearing from my vision. I'm attempting to follow. They can float, apparently. And go completely invisible, even hiding their aura. They're hard to track but if I can get another glimpse of their aura or find them with some light manipulation I can follow.”

“So definitely a meta,” Oracle was typing again, probably updating Scraps’ file, “Use the cuffs if you can get close, Signal. Scraps also causes camera to go a bit fuzzy when nearby, I'll let you know what areas I notice they might be in because of the glitches.”

“Still heading west as far as I can tell,” it wasn't an exciting chase since the hostage floated away at a jogging pace, but that didn't mean Signal wasn't having trouble. It was as if Scraps was using their aura like breadcrumbs for Signal to follow. Eventually, Scraps’ aura stopped appearing, they were gone, “I lost Scraps, I'm going to check the area incase I was lead here for a reason. We can pin the coordinates for later.”

“Already on it. Looks like you're pretty close to the coordinates on the invite,” Oracle responded, “Mad Hatter might be leading us to his base. Its obviously a trap, he must have confidence to be so careless.”

“My invite has the same coordinates as Robin's,” Duke looked in the general direction of the coordinates, the Botanical Gardens.

“Keep an eye out, we don't know where Scraps may next appear,” Oracle signed off and Signal moved on with their patrol.

—

Orphan was the next to receive an invite. It was the first time a civilian noticed her while blending with the shadows.

“Orphan, Mad Hatter has invited you to a tea party,” Once again holding out an envelope for the vigilante, Scraps stood unmoving until the letter was taken.

Orphan attempted to follow, listening for breathing or foot steps, once again no one could follow them.

Spoiler was invited, and she tried and failed to grab the wig before Scraps disappeared.

Even Nightwing received an invite. Although his attempt to free Scraps was as fruitless as with the others. He did notice when he made a pun that Scraps had a habit of tilting their head to the side. A hint of a personality trapped inside.

Red Robin followed, but didn't immediately take the invite. His theory was Scraps would only leave after the invite was taken. It had been five minutes now. While he couldn't remove the wig, he was taking a few scans of Scraps.

“Shit,” Red Robin cursed as he scanned Scraps' vitals, “Scraps’ heart rate is dangerously low and is hardly breathing. Their temperature is insanely low at 90°F. They're hypothermic.”

“Please take the invite,” it was the first time Scraps has said anything since offering the invite and telling Red Robin not to touch them.

“I will, but can I get you to a hospital first- Hey!” Red Robin was quickly cut off by an ice shard suddenly flying his way.

Scraps was fast, slamming the letter roughly into his chest and freezing it to his suit before disappearing.

“RR what happened?” Nightwing spoke up on coms.

“I was trying to negotiate, and Scraps didn't take it too well. Fired an attack and now I have an envelope frozen to my chest,” he wasn't going to mention how that same push forced the air out of his lungs and bruised him.

“We can't wait for tomorrow with their current vitals, Scraps is going to die if we don't get them into a hospital. They need an ICU in that condition. Hatter is going to kill the kid at this rate,” Red Robin spoke up, trying to pull the letter and the ice off. The ice wasn't melting or breaking at all. Not even a scratch when he tried to use a bird-a-rang to pry it off, “What the fuck is this ice made of? I can't get it to budge. Can't even scrape off a sample.”

“You couldn't even get a sample off the apple,” Red Hood responded.

“This ice has an edge to pry under, the apple is solid all the way around. I thought if maybe… ha!” the entire chunk of ice along with the envelope came off in one solid peace, “I finally have a sample I can work with.”

“Everyone return to the cave for a debrief. We'll be infiltrating the tea party tonight,” Batman ordered his brood who wrapped up their current tasks to return to the cave.

It was time to crash a Tea Party.

~~~

Master List

Part 1

Part 3

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #batfam #dp x dc crossover #batman #red hood #red hood is a revenant #dc mad hatter #mad hatter dc #mind control #homeless danny fenton #bad parents maddie and jack fenton #ghost king phantom #cross dressing Danny Fenton #Dp x Dc Scraps au

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