#Bruce would bottle it up for a few months until one night of binge watching the Gilmore girls and sobbing next to a stalagmite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snarkythewoecrow · 4 years

Note

I’m so obsessed with your writing, especially the angsty stories! I was wondering if you’d ever consider doing drug addicted Peter where tony starts to notice and recognize the signs and basically just all the whump and feels as possible lmao! Seriously love your writing and I really appreciate you taking prompts! 💖

This was an awesome prompt, and I tried to fill it, but I’ll admit, it took on a life of its own. I think I may do a second chapter later or an epilogue, so keep an eye out for it.

This has a big trigger warning for drug use. Read with caution if that’s a thing for you.

Read on AO3

Peter had a problem, one that started slowly and quickly tumbled out of control. He never meant it to happen, but regrets were like wishes and worth little in the end.

It started after the snap to bring everyone back, after nearly losing Tony on the battlefield. The nightmares haunted him every time he closed his eyes, a million other ways things could have gone. He’d had the fate of the world in his hands as he had carried the gauntlet. One wrong move and Peter would have been responsible for their loss.

It probably wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, or maybe it wasn’t coping at all. May had suggested he talk to a therapist, but Peter had brushed her off, telling her the things she needed to hear, that he was sleeping, though he wasn’t, that he didn’t see the dead when he closed his eyes, even though he was. He’d never forget the bodies or the smell of burning flesh. They might have won, but people died, people were hurt.

Tony was hurt, but then, at least he was alive. Scarred but healing.

Recovering from battle meant that Tony was busy and not looking too closely, which was how Peter managed to avoid his attention, which was how no one noticed when Peter tried drugs for the first time.

He'd gotten the heroin from a drug dealer he’d webbed up. It hadn’t been his plan to keep it, but he found himself gripping the baggie in his hand and swinging away. There was a thrill to keeping it, instead of making sure it went to the police. It had taken him a few hours at home to decide to use it, and another hour of googling to realize he’d need some supplies to make that happen. In the end, he had tucked it under his mattress and made the decision to find a needle and lighter the next day.

The next day came after a fitful sleep, guilt and curiosity warring in him. May went to work and wouldn’t be back until morning. It was the weekend, so he didn’t need to worry about school, and the only thing he could think about was whether the drugs would give him any relief, any bit of freedom and happiness in the darkness he was living.

He sat on his bed with the bedroom door closed even though no one else was home. He arranged the syringe, spoon, lighter, and baggie of drugs on the mattress. The water he’d need to dissolve the heroin was on the nightstand, a room temperature bottle of Poland Spring.

From everything he’d read, he estimated that he’d have plenty of time to come down before morning. That was if this even worked with his metabolism. Regular pain pills barely worked on him, and heroin was an opiate in the same family.

Checking the time on his phone, he steeled himself to start. Following all the steps he’d seen on YouTube, and you really could learn anything on the internet, he prepped the drug in the spoon and then drew the top layer of the solution off the spoon. The whole process reminded him of chemistry class.

He let out a shaky breath as he studied the contents of the needle and then put the spoon and lighter and baggie away in his nightstand.

It was just him, the syringe.

“Shit,” Peter said, as he realized he needed a tourniquet.

Setting the needle down on the mattress, he rummaged through his closet for something to use. With a thudding heart and shaky hands, he found his tie from homecoming and, with a moment’s hesitation, grabbed it and went back to the bed.

Pushing down his fears, he knotted the tie around his upper arm as tight as he could and uncapped the needle.

Doing like the videos said, he found a vein, inserted the needle, and then drew back to get blood. He depressed the plunger fully, his hyper-aware senses feeling the tepid mixture in his vein. When the syringe was empty, he recapped it and tossed it on his nightstand, loosened the tourniquet, and laid back on against his pillows.

He immediately felt a rush. It reminded him a little of his super pain pills that Bruce had designed but more intense. His mouth went a little dry, and his skin flushed. When he tried to move his arms, they felt heavy.

He let his eyes close and enjoyed the feeling of heavy warmth envelop him. His thoughts, which had been dashing around his brain, slowed to cold molasses, and he relished the freedom from his chaotic, depressing mess that was his mind..

Feeling relaxed and floaty, he let himself drift off to a dreamless sleep.

XXX

Over the next few weeks, Peter tried to explain away his hunt for more drug deals to interrupt as just being a diligent hero, doing his part, but secretly he knew that it was because he wanted more drugs, and that was the easiest way to get them.

He always waited until May was working the overnight to use, and each time it got easier, the motions of preparing the drug becoming like second nature. His healing factor hid what would have been track marks on his arm, and the drug was wiped from his system by his high metabolism soon after taking it, so it didn’t seem like much of a risk.

That didn’t mean he didn’t know what he was doing was wrong. On some level, he did, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find reasons to make it less of a bad thing and more positive. It was honestly hard to argue with the benefits, not when on nights he used to struggle with his dreams, he now got real sleep. It finally gave him a little peace.

As weeks of using turned to months, Peter’s appetite slipped, and his demeanor started to change. Living became about when he could get high next, and the waits made him irritable, and even May noticed.

“How many days in a row do you plan on coming home and slamming your bedroom door?” May asked from the doorway to his room.

He’d wanted to come straight home and shoot up, but May had changed her shifts this week and was home the last few nights, including this one. It meant he couldn’t risk doing it. If she caught him using, he didn’t want to think about what she’d do. His spider-manning days would be over. And she’d tell Tony, who didn’t need the stress. Honestly, Peter wasn’t sure who he feared finding out more, May or Tony. Neither was an option. He needed to play it safe even if that meant going without for a few days.

And going without shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but he was finding his skin itched, and he couldn’t make his muscle relax. The only thing that gave him some relief was moving, but he worried that alone might be enough for May to catch on. She’d worked in the ER enough to recognize the symptoms of withdrawal, though maybe she wouldn’t believe Peter would ever have a reason to go through that.

“Sorry, May. I haven’t been sleeping that much lately.” He fought the urge to bounce his leg. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” He tried to stop himself from scratching his arm, but his fingers still twitched. “I’ll do the dishes tonight.”

May pushed her glasses up her nose, eyes roving over him. Finally, her shoulders dropped, and she sighed. “Fine, thank you. I’m making meatloaf tonight. It’ll be ready in an hour. I expect you to make an appearance.”

“Yeah, I’ll be out. Sorry again for acting like a jerk.”

She gave him a small smile. “Larb you.”

“Larb you, too.”

After dinner, Peter packed his kit and headed for the roof. He told May he was patrolling, but he didn’t even wear his suit. He took the stairs and went out to the chair over by the vent. May had gone to binge watch her favorite shows in her room, so she wouldn’t come looking for Peter if he was late.

Shooting up on the roof wasn’t the best circumstances, but it was better than May walking in on him. If he didn’t take as much as usual, he could come down enough to go back inside before long. It would just take the edge off. That’s all he wanted.

Sitting in the chair, he opened the small canvas bag and pulled out his supplies. He made quick work of the prep and was ready to inject in minutes.

Once he depressed the plunger, he counted in his head until he hit five, and he was already feeling it. The awful twitching and ache in muscles faded, and he relaxed. Recapping the needle, he dropped it on the roof and closed his eyes, sliding down in the chair until his head was resting against the back.

He nearly drifted off to sleep when he felt his pocket vibrate. It took him a minute to put together that it was his phone. He couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to answer, though, so he just waited it out.

A second later, the phone rang again, and again, he ignored it.

The cool fall air stirred, and he scrubbed his hand over his face. Checking his watch, he saw it had been almost two hours since he came up to the roof. His head was still hazy, but he needed to get back.

Grabbing his bag, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the side of the building, hopping over the side and scurrying over to the fire escape. He wasn’t sure if May would still be in her room, so he figured he should use his window since she thought he was patrolling.

The next day, Peter felt a lot better, but he was feeling the need to use again by the end of the day. It was becoming harder and harder to get through the whole day. It started to worry Peter, he didn’t like giving over control, but he squashed the feeling down and focused on his homework.

His phone came to life on the desk, and he glanced over at it. On the screen was the familiar image of the Iron Man helmet. He felt a rush of fear go through him, like if he answered, somehow Tony would know what he’d been doing.

Before he could decide what to do, the phone went quiet again. He felt a little relief now that the ringing had stopped.

He really should talk to Tony, though. Ignoring his calls was never good. It always made him more intense, more curious, pushier. Peter knew it was because he cared, but Peter didn’t need to be babysat. He’d been through so much, space, death, coming back, and fighting for the fate of the world. Of course, Tony wouldn’t agree with Peter’s coping technique, but it worked for him, and what harm was it doing? He was keeping the drugs off the street, away from someone who could overdose or be killed. He’d bet with his metabolism that he couldn’t overdose if he tried.

His skin was starting to crawl, and he needed another fix. Kneeling down beside his bed, he shoved his hand between the mattress and box spring. When his fingers brushed over the flimsy plastic bag, he snatched it and pulled it out. Disappointment washed over him when he saw it was empty. He would have sworn he’d had some left. Had he really used it all? He knew he’d been using more, but it didn’t seem like that much.

Crushing the bag in his hand, he tossed it into the wastebasket and let a heavy breath out his nose. What was he going to do? It wasn’t easy to find the right drug deals to get what he needed. It was always hit or miss what they would be dealing in. Working his jaw, he realized he didn’t have a choice. He was going to have to go out.

Just as he went to his closet to get his suit, his phone came to life again, and Peter nearly growled at the interruption. He was focused on finding drugs. He didn’t have time to talk, and who called anyway? Why couldn’t they just text?

He forcefully swiped the phone from his desk, briefly glancing at the caller ID. It was Tony because, of course, it was Tony. The universe hated him.

His muscles ached, and his hands shook as he held the phone in front of him. He swept to answer, bringing the phone to his ear, and squeezing his eyes shut like it would help him hide.

“What?” Peter breathed before Tony could answer. The longer the call took, the longer he’d have to wait to get his next fix.

“Is that how you’re answering your phone these days? I guess I wouldn’t know since this is the first time you’ve answered in weeks. Why is that, Peter?”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in a very Tony way. He tried to push down his annoyance. “Sorry, Mr. Stark. Can this wait? I’m kinda busy right now.”

“I won’t lie and say that doesn’t hurt my feelings, Pete. I thought we were past this stuff, and since when do you call me Mr. Stark. It’s been Tony since, you know, Thanos and all that.”

Peter didn’t need a reminder. Peter had been calling him Tony more, but the formal moniker offered some distance, which right now, Peter needed. He felt caught out in the open, like at any moment, Tony would just know and call him out. He didn’t want to give up his new coping mechanism, no matter how controversial it might be.

“We are past it,” Peter said honestly.

“Do you know why I’ve been calling you?”

Peter sighed with a shrug. “I don’t know? You’re bored because Pepper won’t let you turn the toaster sentient?”

He heard Tony’s breathy chuckle on the other end. “Maybe a little of that, but more that May is worried. She called me a few days ago, telling me how you have changed. You’re snappier, angry, always seem tired. She even thought you’d been losing weight.”

Peter pursed his lips as his jaw ticked. “She shouldn’t have called you.”

“So you don’t deny what she’s saying?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Tony’s tone was firm when he spoke. “Don’t lie to me, Peter. Tell me what’s going on? Are you having trouble with nightmares again? Christ knows you’ve seen some shit.”

Peter stood there quietly, afraid to talk, afraid he might betray himself and say the wrong thing.

“Answer me, kid.”

“I don’t have anything to say. I wasn’t handling things, dying, Thanos, coming back, but I’ve found something that’s working. It’s helping, so don’t worry about it.” He took a breath and tacked on a, “Please.”

It was Tony’s turn to be silent. A few seconds passed, then Tony cleared his throat. “I don’t know if that makes me worry more or less. It could just be me projecting, but I’m something of an expert on shitty coping mechanisms. Part of me thinks that if it wasn’t something to worry about, you’d tell me.”

“I can’t, please, just leave it,” Peter breathed.

“Okay,” Tony sighed. “Okay, we’ll do this your way, but if things get to be too much, call me. I’m always here for you, kid. I didn’t just bend time and space to get you back because I didn’t mean something to me. Promise me you’ll call.”

“If I need you, anything, I’ll call, but I swear, Tony, I got this.”

They ended the call, and Peter tossed his phone on the bed. Scrubbing a hand over his face and ruffling his hair, he pushed down his conflicting emotions and looked at his closet where his suit hung. It would all be better once he found some drugs. They’d make it all better. He’d be able to be himself, to think. Lying to himself was easy.

Patrol took him all over the city, but he couldn’t find any heroin. Weed didn’t do anything for him, and his metabolism burned through cocaine too fast to bother. As time went on, he felt the withdrawal more and more. It was like a caged beast inside him, clawing at his chest, tearing at his muscles. He felt the need to use burning through his very core.

Panic started to build in him as he realized he might not find any. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t. Without any other ideas, Peter headed to an area that he knew people used. Maybe he could sneak some away from a passed out junkie.

When he got there, he immediately saw someone. A woman was slumped by a dirty cardboard box, syringe still in her hand, spoon on the ground. She looked like she was sleeping.

Taking a look around to make sure no one else was looking, he crept closer to her, eyes searching for leftover drugs. He caught the edge of a bag sticking out of her pocket. Relief flooded him. It wasn’t until he was tugging the bag out of her jacket that he realized she wasn’t moving at all, and he couldn’t hear her heartbeat. It was then that he saw how pale she was, lips tinged blue.

There were a lot of things Peter knew he should do, call for help, make sure someone found her, a million other things, but what he found himself doing was snatching the bag the rest of the way from her pocket and clenching it in his fist. There wasn’t much, but it would be enough to take the edge off. Then he looked her over one last time and took off toward the rooftops.

He made it a block before the weight of what he’d done crashed down on him, and he collapsed on a roof, down on all fours and panting, feeling his stomach roll. The image of the woman wouldn’t leave his mind. What was thinking? What was he becoming? This wasn’t him. This wasn’t Spider-Man. He didn’t recognize himself anymore.

He pulled his mask off just in time for bile to come splattering on the gravelly roof.

Spitting on the ground, he pushed himself up and sat back on his knees. His HUD was alive and active with his stats. His heart was beating a little too fast. He wondered how much was his emotional state and how much was withdrawal.

The worst part was he was still holding the baggie, and he didn’t want to let it go, even though he knew how wrong it was to keep it. Was this what he’d come to? Scavenging drugs from the dead. At least when he was taking them from dealers, he could reason that he was saving a life, but that wasn’t the case anymore. How had he gotten here, and how did he get back?

He remembered his conversation only hours earlier. Pulling his mask back over his face, he thought about what he really wanted, and he knew in his heart that it was to be free again, but he was afraid that would never happen. If there was any hope of getting back to normal, there was only one option. Peter just hoped he’d understand.

“Karen,” Peter’s voice broke, “call Tony.”

#irondad #peter parker #tony stark #tw: drugs #snark writes

17 notes · View notes

v01d-ch1ld · 5 years

Text

Bad Always Becomes Worse in Gotham, and Worse Usually Turns into Dead

Author’s note: Yes. This is an official update. Yes, it did take forever. No, sadly, I am not dead. This chapter is part of an all-nighter writing binge. At this point, I have written this chapter three times and I hope I am satisfied this time. I am using the power of emo music and naps to keep sane right now because my personal life is #rough at the moment so this is going to be that edgy™ chapter where afterward September and some of my real-life friends are going to ask me about my mental health. (If you guys are reading this I’m fine just super sleep-deprived and sore because of work and insomnia and caffeine are taking their toll.) Lean back and enjoy the ride.

Warning! This chapter contains descriptions of violence, rape, mental health disorders, drug use, and death. Do not read if you are squeamish or under the age of 13. (If you are 12 and on Tumblr you have problems anyways.)

Tonight was becoming a fickle thing. Jason was in desperate need of a plan. Bruce, four-time winner of Father of the Year, just took a victim to a mental asylum, like the warm and compassionate human being that he is. Nothing that had been done that night had really been her fault and it was nearing close to dawn. He was running out of time. If the sun rose and the Red Hood was still active he was toast. Then there was the lovely array of bullet wounds his ex-crush had given him. Jason didn’t know what to do. Becca had shot him and tried to kill him, he tried to kill her, saved her, tied her to a bedframe (ironically enough, the room she was tied up in used to be his when he lived at the manor), and then she broke free, shared a sob story, attacked his ex-employer, and then kissed him. That was a whole clusterfuck of mixed signals to be worked out with Roy, cigarettes, and about three bottles of scotch. Jason shook his head, he could focus on that later, he needed to call Kori so he could get his girl out of Arkham.

He hobbled out of the Batcave having left his hood, jacket, chest plates, one of his boots and his guns in the cave. He still had his own modified comlink on. That was something he never took off, and while he used the one installed in the HUD in his hood he kept one private one for his team on him at all times in case he felt the need to stray from Bruce’s morals and blow some fuck’s brains.

“Kori?” Jason quietly spoke into the com. The walls have ears in Wayne Manor. Those ears are named Timberly Jackass Drake and Damian “Demon Brat” Wayne. If they warn Bruce he’s sicking Kori and Artemis on him before he’s in a safe house then he’s fucked. Last time he deviated it took Red Hood out of commission for three months, he would be taking no such risks this time. He held his breath until he heard her respond.

“Hood, what is it? Are you okay?” Kori’s voice came through his earpiece clear as a bell. He let out his baited breath.

“Yes. I am at the manor. You need to come get me. I got hit a lot tonight.” Jason murmured, walking towards his old room like he is planning on resting.

“What happened? You Bats make dodging bullets look easy.” Kori teased but Jason heard the underlying concern. She was always so caring, even heartbroken. (Dick was a moron. End of story.)

“I was up against a sharpshooter. A familiar face. Remember when I told you about the girl that I lost?”

“Your beloved? But I thought she died.” He had told Kori that he loved her as much as she loved Dick. It wasn’t far off but he was pretty sure he loved his girl more. He smiled at that.

“It seems that she and I have that in common. Listen she’s in bad shape. We all know the kind of damage that the Joker can do. He made her a criminal and Bruce is taking her to Arkham. We need to intercept him and get her out of their hold and hide her so that maybe I can get her help. Crazy as she has been made to be she still listens to me.”

“Jason. Is this really the right call? She is unstable. She could be dangerous. Who knows how the Joker could have brainwashed her? You remember his mind tricks.” Kori’s voice is gentle like she understands the true bite of her words. Jason frowns because, yes, he does remember and she does have a valid point.

“I’m sure. Make sure we keep her in one of our more secure safehouses. Send Artemis and when you drop me off at the house, join her because she will need reinforcements no matter how much she protests.” Jason grunts as he lies down in the bed he had tied his friend to. He can’t get past that. Becca, his babydoll, was turned into the Jester. A shell.

“Okay, I will be there in a few minutes. I had to wrap something up.” She hangs up tersely. Translation: I was beating the fuck out of the gang lord I have been chasing and had to end it early because of your needy ass. Fuck it. He could deal with spoiling her fun later. He needed Becca safe.

04:07 GCPD Headquarters, Gotham City

Batman dragged the fighting and kicking Jester, though gagged and hogtied, into the police station. They had a cell waiting. He had removed her shoes because the wedge heel had been most unpleasant when hitting him in the ribs. Now she was still kicking him but through the Kevlar and titanium plates, he could hardly feel a thing. He had to used cord from his grapple to tie her up because the cuffs had been jimmied, the zip ties bitten off (hence, where the gag came in), and the rope broken with her enhanced strength. The weaved titanium of his grapple line would withstand her strength and tied the way he tied it would not come undone but only get tighter as she struggled.

Jim Gordon stood in the lobby of the building staring at the girl with a hard stare. He walks over and removed her gag.

“I want to know if there is any hope in saving you.” Of course, he did. Becca was friends with Barbra. Like Bruce, he had become a father to her. Jester looked up at him and bared each one of her teeth showing how her canine teeth have been slightly elongated and filed to sharp points, no wonder she had bitten through the zip ties.

“Men like you are the reason that people like me exist, to show the world that there is no hope.” She grins, “How’s Babs doing lately? Still can’t walk after all that physical therapy?” After that Batman, no Bruce, punched her in the stomach and Jester has the nerve to laugh.

Looking back on her father’s lessons, she laughs the way she was taught to laugh to inspire fear. Slowly and quietly chuckling, smirking and then picking up the volume gradually until the sound of her insanity bounced off the walls. Sneaking a look around she saw some of the officers look at her in horror. Gordon looked disheartened, Bruce was stoic.

“Take her to the holding cell and keep her tied up on the floor. And take the cot out,” Gordon barks to his men who respond with a shaky “yes sir” and cautiously approach the Jester, who is still doing her father proud, laughing up a storm. “The transfer truck should be here in an hour, we’ll take it from here.” He said to the Bat, who grunted his response and was gone in the time it took the commissioner to blink.

Shaking his head, Gordon watched as the drug a still laughing Jester to the area where her mugshot would be taken. He sighed, he never likes watching kids go through the process of being entered into the system.

04:47 a holding cell inside of Gotham City Police Headquarters

Lying on the floor of the cell Jester wanted to kill someone. Her arms were stretched uncomfortably, and her feet were numb, and she was cold. She supposed that she should also be in pain. For once she was glad that she couldn’t feel those sensations anymore. How long were they going to keep her waiting? Did she have to break out of here and WALK to the Asylum? She began to try to twist her wrists only to stop when she felt blood running down her arms. Great, now she was bleeding more than before. Jason may be on the wrong side of the law for her right now, but he was a great shot she had to admit. Almost as good as her teacher. Speaking of which, she still had to thank Floyd for giving her the custom pistols that are now locked up in evidence. Fuck she had to get those back those meant something to her dammit!

Rolling over, she looked through the tiny ass window that they give the jailbirds to taunt them with their freedom. Arching, her back she grabs the knife that she stole from her charming new boy-toy and prayed that it was the right knife. She began to test the blade against the wire and it cut. She almost screamed in joy but remembered that she was in a police station and it was only so long before one of the officers found out that she had escaped her bonds. Once she did, however, she wasted no time in breaking the lock with a combination of the knife and her doctored strength.

Near instantly the alarms started going off and the hallway was flooded with officers. I guess now would be the time to garner that plan to get her guns back. She started in on her prey with deadly efficiency. Taking one arm and immediately dislocating his shoulder and grabbing his gun while using him as a human shield from the first volley of bullets. Taking measured shots, she used the six-shot magazine to take out the best shots. Once they were down and she knew that she had better odds of dodging bullets she picked up one of the guns that had skittered across the now blood-stained floor and set to work. She shot the ones on point first as they were getting a little close, dropped a leg on some guy who was trying to grab her, caught his gun as he fell and shot him in the head. A dark-haired female officer cussed in Spanish as she walked into the room grabbing her gun from her shoulder holster. Electric green eyes snapped to her and she was shot in the right shoulder in an instant, the gun falling out of her hand. Turning and shooting three more men who were coming from behind she takes the top off the gun and jams it into another officer’s throat picking up two pistols she shot down another cop who had walked in before he could cock his shotgun. Blood now covered some of the walls in an indiscriminate pattern.

“IIIIIIIII S-SHOULD HAVE WARNED YOOOOOOOOU!” Jester screams before she begins to cackle like the hellcat she is. Rushing the last few men, she slides through the pooling blood in the hall toward the now open shotgun. Picking it up, crouching, and cocking in a swift move she fires blowing one man about a yard back and scattering his insides all over part of one of the walls and the floor. Loading and spin cocking the gun Terminator-style, she proceeds to dispatch a few more policemen before she strolls out of the hall with five guns strapped to her and 6 more shotgun cartridges. More cops stand in front of her as she starts a bloodbath.

Meanwhile

05:04 Gotham City Police Headquarters

Jason Todd didn’t know what to think, but the Red Hood was already unholstering his pistols by the time he got inside the building. Once he got inside though, even the Red Hood froze. His babydoll was straight-up murdering the police. They stood no chance. Granted, he himself is capable of doing what she is doing right now but he had never had the cause. He never simply decided that he was going to murder an entire police station, but here she was doing exactly that. Gordon was returning fire with his revolver from behind an upturned desk, several other officers were taking a page from his book and using desks as shields too. The Jester was also behind a desk, more visible from his angle and using some complicated gun tricks and a mirror to further up her kill count.

“By the Gods,” gasped Artemis from behind him to his left. She was right. This was almost Ares-level carnage. He almost turned around to alter the plan he set up somewhat when Jester made a move.

Rushing to the right and into a smaller hallway off the room she shoots two more officers in the head and breaks into the room at the end of the small hallway. The police share a collective curse, still not having noticed the Outlaws in their headquarters. That room was evidence and weapons lock up. Guns from every recent arrest in the city were stored there. Now she had an arsenal.

Arsenal, Jason’s best friend not thing that Jester was currently drooling over behind the doors of evidence lock-up, spoke up in Jason’s com right then: “Hey buddy? Need some help?” he offers coolly. Jason knows for a fact that this is now being televised and that his time was now super limited.

“I am so glad to hear from you right now. Yes, I need you to find me the closest and most secure safehouse you can.” Jason was not about to tell his friend to come here. Not when he was still recovering from Slade kicking his bowed behind to Bludhaven and back. Roy lets out a curse, most likely due to not being invited to the fun.

“Fuck you always know how to dampen my hopes, man. Alright. I’ll give you a location in 15 minutes.”

“You have five, Hood out.”

BOOM!

“Oh fuck! What’s happening now?!” one of the officers shouts. That came from evidence. Everybody’s head turns to see grenades coming out of lock-up. Shit. Artemis tackled him behind the desk closest to the Commissioner’s office. Starfire had dived the opposite direction with two other officers behind one of the vending machines that had been flipped sideways. The detonation killed one more officer leaving only the Outlaws, two detectives, Gordon alive. Jester took this opportunity, her pistols, and a machine gun and broke for the exit, spreading the ammo from the gun so that no one could shoot back at her. Once on the street, she booked it.

Jason cursed. Out of his grasp again.

Batman was going to be pissed.

19:00 Dock 19 Gotham City Harbor

Jester crawled out of the shadows to a familiar warehouse. One of the many lairs her father had and where she was to report if she ever got caught. Not even Batsy knew about this one. She walked inside with her head held low out of exhaustion. She had been careful not to be seen all day. But now that darkness had fallen she longed for a joint and her bed. Walking in past the lookouts who were very surprised to be seeing her so soon after she got caught by the Bats, she stumbled upon Ivy and Harley having date night on the couch. Gross. Choking down bile, she drags herself into her area she flops down onto a pile of beanbags and begins to grind.

Her head was spinning with adrenaline and stress and her hands shook when she opened her grinder. Taking out her jar of weed that Ivy, one of the secret villain stoners, had grown specifically for her. It was basically really strong Sherbet Indica times about twenty. She is just about done grinding when she finally gets noticed.

“Ah, look what the cat dragged in.” Harley teased while she was in Ivy’s arms. Ivy looked down on her with disapproval, Harley ignored her as always. She really needed to start learning that being a brat would only get you into trouble with the doms she hung out with. Rolling her eyes Jester decided to ignore her. But that never worked with Harley Quinn the bitch would only try harder. “I’m surprised your new boy-toy doesn’t have you tied up.”

“Oh, he did Harl and guess what? I can defiantly say that it was better than any action you’ve gotten from a guy lately.” Nodding her respect for Pam. That bitch’s tongue could solve world peace if used applicably and almost every female villain knew it. Jester included after one night of a lot of rough flirting. It took a lot of gin, but the look on Harley’s face was worth it.

“Like you would know? You’ve only had sex like what three times? And two of them were MY sloppy seconds!” she squeaked indignantly. Jester had to admit that stung. Joker had raped her twice shortly after her arrival in his custody. While the act had only lasted less than half an hour each time, the pain and the mental scarring had been debilitating for weeks. It was something for which not even Jester could forgive him.

“At least I’ve never had chlamydia!” Jester flung back at her, rolling her joint deceptively calm.

“You little skank! I’ve never had chlamydia!” Harley yelled just a little too loudly for it to be true. Pamela looked at her in a very motherly way. Tired of our shit.

“Yeah that’s why you had to put on that fugly looking brunette wig, so you could go to the free clinic last month. Remember me laughing at you after I drove you there?” Jester said smirking evilly from her rolling tray.

“I-I, you little-“ Harley was cut off by the booming rage of the Joker.

“JESTER COME HERE NOW!” and with that, Harley was sent into fits of glee, laughing so hard she fell off the couch.

“Y-you a-are in so much trouble.” She panted between giggling fits.

Jester rolled her eyes, took her joint, lit it, dragged, and puffed the smoke at Harley and ashed it on her while she was rolling on the floor with tears in her eyes laughing. She yelped when the hot ash burned her stomach. Jester snarled at her as she walked past Harley and Ivy and up the stairs that led to the upstairs part of the warehouse where her father was waiting.

“What happened!?” he yelled, spittle going everywhere.

“First, say it don’t spray it,” that earned her a hard slap, “Second, I ran into some unforeseen circumstances.” She shrugged and dragged her joint. That was all there was to say on the matter. She was not about to tell “I have killed people for looking at my daughter wrong” that she had reconnected with her old crush. Like hell.

“Oh, really? And what exactly were those unforeseen circumstances?” He was pissed now. It was all in the narrowing of his eyes, the intensity of their chemical glow, the twist of his smile. He rested his head on his hands with his eyes half-lidded. That was usually when people started to decorate the walls.

“A rather rambunctious and familiar pain in my ass by the name of Red Hood.” That was a double touch on her part cleverly disguised as a dig on the bat family.

“I see. Make sure our little failed boy blunder doesn’t ruin any other parties we have in the future due to your incompetence. Understand?” he’s sneering at this point.

“Understood.”

“Just wait until you hear my plan for our next party, Daddy! I promise you will have the time of your life!”

“I had better.”

The smoke carried on into the shadows and dissipated.

@schweeeppess @dcuniverse-fanatic @dc-hoe @ravennightingaleandavatempus

18 notes · View notes

buckys-other-punk · 6 years

Text

Would You Just Listen To Me

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: my attempt at fluff, stressful reader, rude-ish Bucky and cuss words

Word Count: 1991

Prompt: “I’m pregnant.”

Summary: Reader found out she’s pregnant and Bucky is to busy to hear the important news from his soon to be wife. (I suck at summaries sorry)

A/N: @caplansteverogers, thank you for letting me be a part of your fluffy challenge. If you want to be tagged let me know and feedback is appreciated! Please don’t mind any mistakes, I skimmed through this so its kinda unedited.

Tags: @amour-quinn @carabarnes13

___________________________________________________________________

*1 month ago*

“What the hell?” you said as you threw up again for the past two weeks. Wanda was rubbing your back lovingly.

“Are you sick hun? Maybe you shouldn’t go on the mission (Y/N) this month. We don’t want you to get worse.” Nat said, well demanded.

“Natasha is right (Y/N). Just relax for a few weeks and see if you get any better.” Wanda said as she helped you up from the floor. You sighed and nodded.

“Fine I’ll stay here and binge watch Stranger Things...again.” you said in defeat as you walked to the living room with the two girls behind you. You sat down on the couch and grabbed the blanket that was resting on the back of the couch and wrapped it around your body. Nat sat down next to you while Wanda brought you a glass of water. “So who’s going on the mission with you guys?” you asked the two.

Nat and Wanda looked at each other. “Well Steve, Tony, Vision, and Bucky.” You looked at them in shock.

“What? Bucky never told me he was going on the mission.” you said aloud. The two girls looked at each other then back to you. They both shrugged and got up from their positions.

“(Y/N) just relax for a while. I promise we will let you know if anything bad happens during the mission.” Natasha said. Wanda nodded and gave you a small hug and the two walked back towards their rooms. You sighed and turned on the television to distract your mind a bit.

As everyone was about to leave, Bucky walked up to the couch where you were laying down. He looked over at your state seeing you all wrapped up in a giant blanket scrolling through your phone while the tv was making noise. He tapped your shoulder and smiled at you. You were at the brink of falling asleep, but Bucky had to wake to up. He walked around the couch and in front of you and smiled. You sat up and looked at Bucky.

Bucky sighed and said “The girls told me that you can’t come to the mission with us.” You nodded and looked down sadly.

“You better come back in one piece Bucky or I swear I will get Hulk to beat you senselessly.” You threatened. Bucky laughed and kissed your forehead.

“I promise I’ll be back with no scratches or bruises.” He said purely as he looked into your eyes. You nodded and pecked his lips and as you drew away he grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss. As the kiss deepened Bucky pushed you both down on the couch with him on top of you. Right when it was about to get heated you both heard “Alright Buckaroo, you ready to go-oh!” You both drew apart and looked over at Tony. Tony covered his eyes and said wiggling his eyebrows “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” Bucky looked at you with sorry eyes and sighed with his head down.

“I’ll be ready in a minute Tony.” Bucky said in defeat. As Tony began to walk away Bucky got off of you and kneeled in front of you. “Babe I promise I’ll be back before you know it.” he smiled as he whispered in your ear. You nodded and kissed him passionately for the last time this month. As he withdrew with the rest of the crew to go to the mission you waved as the quinjet descended.

*Present*

“Bucky, you said you would be back in a month.” you reminded looking at your phone to see your boyfriend’s face.

“I know doll, but Tony thinks we need T’challa’s help for the mission so we are stopping by in Wakanda.” he replied sadly. You frowned as you both heard Natasha requesting for everyone to meet with Tony. “ I gotta go now doll there’s a meeting that’s happening. I’ll call you back later ok? Love you.”

As you were about to reply back the call lost its signal. You sighed and walked out of your room to the kitchen. You were having an ungodly cravings for the past two months. For lunch you wanted pizza with peanut butter, pickles, M&M’s and caramel sauce on top. You put the frozen cheese pizza in the oven and looked for the other ingredients in the pantry. As you finished preparing your lunch Bruce walked into the kitchen. He looked in the fridge and got a bottle of water. As you began eating Bruce looked in your direction. He stared at your pizza with a questionable and disgusted face.

“Umm (Y/N)? Whacha got there?” he said kindly.

With your mouth stuffed you replied, “Pizza” looking at him in concern. “Why? Do you want some?” you offered. He quickly shook his head no.

“(Y/N) you’ve been having these weird cravings for a while now right?” he asked you and you nodded agreeing with his statement. “Are you still throwing up?” he asked another question. You thought for a bit and shook your head no. “Why don’t you come with me to the lab. I have a theory on your health.” You sighed and followed him while bringing your entire pizza with you. As you both entered the lab you sat down on the exam table. He attached some wires all over your body connecting it to his computer. After a few tests and 5 more slices of pizza he got the results. “Well my theory was right (Y/N).”

“Well spit it out what is it?” you asked sternly.

“You’re pregnant.” he said quietly at first.

“Speak up Banner I couldn’t hear you.” you yelled at the scientist.

“You’re pregnant (Y/N)!” he said with a smiled.

“Holy shit. I gotta call Bucky” you whispered. “Um, I’m gonna lay down for a but Bruce.” you said to him and he nodded understandingly. You walked out of the lab and back to your room. You went on your computer to video chat your boyfriend. As it rang and rang your mind was spiraling. He never answered. “Probably he’s really busy? I’ll call back later.” you said to yourself. You gave up on calling a grew tired. Slowly your eyes began to flutter close and your consciousness began to drift as you fell asleep.

*Later that evening*

The crew had came back just before supper. They were all tired and sat down in the dining table as they began to eat Chinese food. You had just woken up and walked to the dining area to see everyone there eating. You walked up to Bucky and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you back safe and sound Bucky. I have some important news to tell you.” you whispered in his ear.

Bucky replied with “Doll can this wait until tomorrow? I’m really beat wit the trip back. I need some rest.” You nodded and both exited the dining room saying good night to everyone. As walked with back to your room with Bucky, you went to the bathroom to take a quick shower and he began to change out of his clothes. As you finished cleaning yourself you saw Bucky asleep on your bed. You walked over to the bed and laid next to Bucky with both your hands on your stomach smiling small.

*The next day*

When you woke up the space next to you was empty. You huffed and got out of bed to find you boyfriend. You entered the kitchen and found him there with Sam and Steve. They were all having breakfast with one another.

“Bucky I need to talk to you about something.” you said to him.

“(Y/N), the guys and I are about to go for a run. Can you tell me when I get back.” he said in a rush as the three men were close to exiting the kitchen.

You groaned in defeat, “Fine.” You watched as the three left the building.

“(Y/N) is everything fine?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, peachy just fucking peachy, Tony. Thanks for asking.” you said sarcastically while also yelling at him at the same time. You got an entire box of donuts that was laying on the counter and pop tarts and stormed off to your room.Tony just stood there speechless.

*Later*

Bucky and the boys were back and everyone was in the dining area. Wanda and Vision was making everyone lunch. Everyone was in a seat talking to one another as you walking in. You walked towards Bucky as he was talking to Steve.

“Bucky, I really need to talk to you.” you said sternly. You were pissed he’s been putting you off and you should be pissed. You were pissed to the max because of your hormones.

“Doll, Steve and I were just about to go train. Just tell me later ok?” he said as he began to stand up from his spot.

“Buck-” you started.

“Doll, just tell me later.” he interrupted you.

“But-” you replied.

“(Y/N), later” he again interrupted. Oh now you had it. You were in rage.

“I’M FUCKING PREGNANT!” you yelled. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at you.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“I’m pregnant.” you said hushed looking at him.

“How long?” he asked another question.

“About 2 months.” you replied.

“Holy shit.” you heard from behind you.

“Buck, I think now’s a good time.” Steve said to his friend. You looked at Steve questionably then at Bucky. Bucky nodded and then got on one knee.

“Oh fuck.” you said. Bucky pulled out a small black box and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful diamond ring you ever saw in your life. “Bucky, before you fucking say anything. You better not be marrying be because of this baby.”

He scoffed, “The baby completely brand-new news to me, but I want this (Y/N). I’ve known you for a while now and we’ve been dating for years. I think you are the most beautiful and caring woman in the world. You helped me through my darkest times and were there for me when I had nobody. You are the light of my life and bring me joy. (Y/N), I would be honored if you called me your husband and you my wife. Also to be the father to our child. Wait the baby is mine right? I don’t have to beat someone up.”

You laughed and scoffed, “You’re the father Bucky.”

He smiled. “So (Y/N) will you marry me?” he asked.

“No.” you said with a straight face and everyone gasped. Bucky’s face fell and just when he was about to get up you stopped him. “I’m fucking kidding Bucky. Of course I will marry you!” You grabbed him and kissed him deeply. Everyone was cheering for the two of you. You both drew apart smiling. Everyone was wishing you all congratulations.

“Wait, do you guys want to hear your baby’s heartbeat?” Bruce asked. You both nodded and everyone said yes in excitement. You all went to the lab and Bruce prepared the equipment. You all heard a faint thumping. A heartbeat. Bruce showed the ultrasound on the screen to everyone. There was two blobs.

“Oh my god. Is that what I think it is?” Natasha asked. Bruce nodded.

“You guys are having twins.” Bruce said as he smiled.

Everyone cheered and you and Bucky looked at each other in astonishment. “Wow I’m having twins.” you said to yourself smiling at Bucky.

AWW HOW CUTE RIGHT? I tried very very hard on this guys. This took me days DAYS to write (I suck at fluffy writing), but I hope this was good. Like always let me know if you wanna be tagged and if you liked this. Feedback is always makes me happy. :D

#fluffyforcaplan #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky #reader x bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #marvel #reader insert

461 notes · View notes