#Bruce was confused about his sudden departure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Eight: Family Dinner (Pranks/Dad Jokes)

AO3

Bruce Wayne was not an emotional man. In fact, his emotional capability had once been compared to that of a teaspoon. He had emotions, obviously, but he didn’t express them. Or rather, he wasn’t sure how to express them. But staring down at the photo album in front of him, it was almost painful having no way to express his emotions. It was the most thoughtful gift he had ever received, and it was one that he would treasure forever. He didn’t have baby pictures of his other children. Dick’s were lost at some point while he was still with Haley’s Circus. Jason’s were lost when he had to live on the street. Tim...well, there were a few pictures of Tim. But they were all highly staged school pictures. And those didn’t start until kindergarten. And Damian….Talia wasn’t ever the type to be sentimental. Which meant there were no baby pictures of him either. But Marinette...her entire life had been catalogued. From sonograms, to her first Christmas and the first competition she won. Everything was laid out in order. Bruce turns back to the start of the book, prepared to close it, when an envelope catches his eye. He wasn’t focused on it when he first opened the book. He glances at Marinette and quirks an eyebrow. She frowns.

“Oh, that. Um, it’s the letter that Bridgette wrote to you. I haven’t actually read it, Maman said she hasn’t either. Your name was on the front and apparently she felt awkward opening a letter not addressed to her even with the situation and-” She stops talking, taking a deep breath before smiling. “Sorry. But, you can read it, if you want. I thought you might want to have it.”

“Thank you, Marinette.” He says, smiling slightly. He tries not to laugh when her face lights up seeing him smile. Note, try and show emotions more around Marinette, he thinks. Sitting back on his chair, he opens the envelope and stares down at the letter he should’ve received fourteen years ago.

Dear Bruce…

---

Marinette lets out a sigh of relief as Mr. Wayne sits to read the letter. Tugging Adrien over to her brothers and plopping down on the loveseat, she smiles.

“So Marinette, I noticed the last time you were here you had a sketchbook. Do you draw a lot?” Dick asks, eyeing the lack of space between her and Adrien. Marinette resists the urge to glare at her brother. Was he seriously plotting some way to get her and Adrien away from each other right now? After Mr. Wayne had invited him? Seriously?

“Well, kinda.” She answers, pulling out her mini sketchbook from her purse. “I actually design clothes. So I draw, but it’s mostly clothes. Sometimes I’ll sketch architecture or flowers or something for inspiration but..” She trails off, tentatively passing her sketchbook to Dick. She watches, bouncing her leg as the awkward silence stretches on while Dick looks at the sketchbook with Tim and Jason glancing over his shoulders. And Cass standing behind the couch was also looking at the sketches. Trying not to feel awkward the longer the silence stretches, Marinette jumps as Tim starts choking on his coffee. He jumps towards her and she yelps, leaping off the loveseat and to the side in order to avoid him.

“What the hell Replacement?” Jason huffs. Tim ignores him, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” He says.

“Language, Master Tim. Dinner is ready.” Alfred says, popping out of nowhere.

“What do you mean it’s me?” Marinette asks, taking her sketchbook back and stuffing it back into her purse.

“You’re MDC!” Tim practically yells, waving his (not empty) coffee cup around, barely missing dumping it on her head.

“Um, yes?” She says, confused at his level of excitement.

“How are you not freaking out about this?” Tim asks, turning to Dick and Jason who were trying to get him to follow them to the dining room. Key word being trying.

“Am I supposed to?” Dick asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Richard Grayson! As a fellow Jagged Stone fan you cannot tell me that you don’t recognize the name of his personal designer!” Tim yells. Dick’s eyes widen in realization, turning to Marinette with a shocked smile.

“Wait, that’s you? Marinette, that’s amazing! I knew your sketches were good, but wow. That’s just- wow!” Dick says, his entire face filled with pride. Marinette laughs awkwardly, her face heating up with all the attention. It was….a lot. But also nice.

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t done an entire tour wardrobe yet, but I’m proud of the pieces that I have done.” She says.

“Terribly sorry, but it might be nice if we moved our conversations to the dining room.” Alfred says, a twinge of amusement clear on his face. Marinette glances over at Mr. Wayne who was still frozen, clutching the letter from her birth mother. She looks at Alfred and raises an eyebrow. He simply shakes his head and motions for her to go on. Sighing, she nods and follows her brothers (and Adrien, who was suddenly in an intense conversation with Tim about Jagged Stone) to the dining room. As they walk into the dining room, Marinette darts around Dick to snag the seat on the other side of Adrien. Tim sitting on one side of Adrien was fine. Adrien stuck between Tim and Dick? Not fine. She gives Dick a look, and he just smiles innocently before walking around and taking the seat across from Adrien. Should’ve seen that one coming. Once everyone is seated (besides Mr. Wayne, who had sent Alfred back in and instructed everyone to start without him) the conversations taper off, leaving the dining room in an awkward silence.

“Marinette, I have a very serious question for you.” Dick says, his smile telling her that the chances of it actually being a ‘very serious’ question are slim to none.

“Okay, sure.”

“Where do fruits go on vacation?” He asks, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Pear-is!” Marinette just blinks at him. That was almost as bad as-

“Oh my god! That was amazing!” Adrien cheers, laughing so hard he has to set his fork down. Oh god. There’s two of them.

“Really?” Dick asks, his face bright. Oh dear god please no.

“Oh yeah. That joke was pun-derful.” Adrien replies with a snort. Please god. Make it stop.

“I’m glad you think so. Everyone else seems a bit pun-sive.” Dick replies. That’s it. She’d willingly give Hawkmoth her Miraculous if it meant she could leave this dinner and the awful jokes happening. She’d even listen to her Papa’s jokes for an entire hour. As long as she could leave this cursed dinner. The sudden blaring from both her phone and Adrien’s makes her jump, and her eyes widen. Okay, no. She didn’t say the thing about the Miraculous out loud, so she doesn’t actually have to give it up, right? No, it’s fine. Taking it back won’t lead to anything crazy, right?

“Uh, I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” Marinette says, jumping up, frowning at Adrien as he jumps up with her.

“Me too!” He says. Marinette frowns. Way to make it obvious, Kitty.

“I’m fine, I can go to the bathroom by myself.” She insists, rushing off to the bathroom before Adrien can argue. She’d figure something out.

---

Dick raises an eyebrow at Adrien’s shocked face.

“Did you need to go to the bathroom? We have more than one bathroom.” He says, worried that maybe the kid’s shocked face wasn’t because of Marinette’s hasty departure and instead because he really needed the bathroom.

“Oh. Um. No, I’m fine. Apparently.” He mutters the last word, dropping down into his seat and staring at his plate. Dick could see the boy’s hands twitching towards his phone like he wanted to check it, but was afraid of being rude. He was about to tell him that it was okay to check his phone when a blue circle of light appeared over the table. An arm covered in red spandex with black spots sticks out of the light (portal) and grabs Adrien by the front of his shirt. Before anyone can stop the arm, Adrien is through the portal. Gone. Well shit.

“Where are Adrien and Marinette?” Bruce asks, walking into the room and frowning at the empty chairs. Well shit!

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @imarivers8

142 notes · View notes

sturchling · 3 years

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a story of marinette moving to Gotham.

And going to gotham academy and having her own boutique. Damienette pairing. Cat noir salt. You dont have to if u dont want too.

Sorry for the long wait, work has been keeping me super busy lately. I hope you like this and it was worth the wait! I had a hard time trying to work in the Chat Noir salt, so its more like Adrien salt. Let me know what you think!

-----------------------------------

Marinette was tired of Lila and her lies. She was tired of Adrien’s refusal to help defend her from the liar. And she was tired of everyone believing the liar over Marinette. Most of the school now believed that Marinette was a horrible bully that had been attacking Lila since she arrived. Marinette had been removed as class rep and was constantly given detention by Mr. Damocles. Marinette’s parents have been very supportive, and now realized that Lila was just a malicious liar. But even with their support, it had become to much for Marinette and she knew it was time to leave Paris.

------------------

Her parents were hesitant when she brought up the idea. Marinette had found a study abroad program where she could attend Gotham academy, hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. She discussed it with her parents, really hoping to convince them. They were obviously concerned for a number of reasons. The main one being the crime rate in Gotham. They knew that Marinette needed to get away from Paris, that things had gotten bad in the city for her. But they didn’t want to send her to a dangerous city where she could be hurt or killed. But after speaking with Marinette for several hours, they started to realize how excited Marinette was for the opportunity. While they were still worried, they knew this was the right place for Marinette. And they were comforted that if she was accepted, she would be hosted by and staying with Bruce Wayne. His manor is one of the safest places in the city. So, they agreed with Marinette that she could apply the program.

----------------

So Marinette applied to the study abroad program. She didn’t tell anyone at the school, not like anyone in the class was speaking to her anyway. She waited anxiously for news from the program, hoping to hear that she had been accepted. The longer she didn’t hear anything, the more anxious she became. She was sure that she had been rejected and they just hadn’t told her. Marinette had just got back from a particularly bad day at school, when she noticed she had a new email. An email from the study abroad program. She raced to open the email, and started cheering when she read the line We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Gotham Academy Study Abroad Program. Marinette raced downstairs and told her parents the news. The email said that she would be expected in Gotham by the end of the month. It went on to explain details of the program. That night the Dupain-Cheng family celebrated, and began preparing for Marinette’s departure.

----------------

The last month of Marinette’s time in Paris seemed to drag on and on. Everyday she had to listen to Lila’s lie all day long and the whole class fawn over here. She had to endure Lila accusing her of bullying almost daily and almost daily detentions. But finally, it was her final day at the Dupont. She was almost giddy as she walked to Mr. Damocles’ office with her parents. When she entered the office and Mr. Damocles saw her, he just sighed. “What did you do now Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Then he saw her parents in the office and straightened up. “I didn’t do anything Mr. Damocles. I never did anything Lila accused me of, but I know you will never believe me on that. We are just here to get my academic records and inform you that I will no longer be attending this school after today.” Mr. Damocles was flustered by the sudden declaration. “What do you mean you won’t be attending anymore? Where are you going?” Mr. Dupain stepped forward, barely containing his contempt for this man who had been helping to make his daughter miserable. “Marinette will be studying abroad in America for the next year at least. Now, give us the academic records.” Mr. Damocles stuttered for a while, wondering how such a bully got accepted to such an amazing program. But soon, the Dupain-Chengs got the records from him and were on their way.

------------------

Marinette went down to the locker room with her parents and started emptying her locker. Class hadn’t started yet so, everyone was still in the locker room. They were confused when Marinette started emptying her locker. Adrien, who was about the only person that still talked to Marinette from time to time, approached the young designer. “Marinette? What are you doing?” Marinette didn’t look at any of them, continuing to empty her locker as she responded. “I am emptying my locker. Starting Monday, I will no longer be here for school. I am transferring to Gotham Academy.” The class stood in shock, they never expected Marinette to leave. Sure they were happy that Lila would be able to come to school in peace, but it would be weird without Marinette here. They just stood in shocked silence, as Marinette finished with her locker and walked out with her parents.

------------------

Adrien was shocked by Marinette’s decision. Why would she leave? He knew things had been tough for her lately, but he had kept telling her that it would get better soon. Soon the class would realize that Lila was a liar. That she just had to wait a little longer. But Marinette had clearly given up and was running away. That wasn’t like Marinette at all. When he had the chance, Adrien was going to go pay her a visit in Gotham and convince her to return.

------------------

Marinette was already loving Gotham. She had been met at the airport by Alfred who brought her to the manor. Mr. Wayne was very nice and introduced her to his children as well. Marinette was the same age as Damian and would be in the same class as him as well. Damian had expected to be irritated by this girl when he was first informed of their guest. But to his surprise, he didn’t find her presence as repulsive as everyone else.

-------------------

Weeks went by and Marinette was having a wonderful time. She had made some wonderful friends in her class, though she was nervous to try and make friends after Mrs. Bustier’s class. But she was welcomed warmly by her new class. Her and Damian had also grown close over the weeks. They had started dating recently, and would often spend their time together quietly working on their different craft projects; Marinette working on her designs, and Damian working on his most recent painting. The Waynes were shocked at the change Marinette had caused in the youngest Wayne. Damian was still a very reserved person, but he was considerably warmer to Marinette and had started to act warmer to his family as well.

---------------------

While Marinette wasn’t aware of it, her departure brought about Lila’s downfall. Lila hadn’t been at school recently, on a ‘diplomatic trip to Achu’, and because of that, she didn’t know Marinette left Paris. So when she came back, she was planning on making her next attack against Marinette’s reputation. She used makeup to make fake bruises and called up her tears as she entered the classroom. The class was horrified to see their friend crying and injured. They raced forward and asked Lila what happened. “It was horrible. As soon as I returned to the city last night, Marinette was waiting for me outside my home. She was so mad that she got detention for a week when I told Mr. Damocles that she had stolen my book. She beat me up and said if I ever said anything I would regret it! I am so scared!” Lila was proud of this performance. It was probably one of her best performances yet. But when she looked up at the class, she was surprised to see that the class was staring at her doubtfully.

-------------------

Alya, feeling dread in her stomach, asked “Are you sure it was Marinette last night? No chance it was someone else?” Lila, irritated that they were questioning her, didn’t notice the tension in the room. “Of course it was Marinette. I saw her face and there is no way it was anyone else last night.” Nino, who was now realizing that this could mean that Marinette was right and that Lila was a liar, asked “What do you mean Marinette attacked you last night? Marinette moved to Gotham almost two weeks ago. She couldn’t have attacked you last night.” Now Lila was horrified. This was a major mistake. Lila was trying to back pedal, and figure a way out of this mess, but the class had realized at this point that Lila was lying and that she had probably been lying before when Marinette was still here. The class started to yell at Lila as they realized that she had been lying to them all this time. Lila raced from the room, not wanting to face the class. The class quickly tried to reach out to Marinette, to apologize and ask her to come home, but the number they had for her had been disconnected. Adrien was disappointed that Marinette hadn’t told anyone her new number, not even him. He was going to go to Gotham soon and try to convince her to come back. He was sure their Everyday Ladybug would be willing to come back.

-----------------

One day, weeks after Lila’s exposure, Damian and Marinette were sitting in the garden just relaxing. After watching Marinette work on a new design, Damian said, “Marinette, you should really try to open a boutique. Your work is terrific and you would be very successful.” Marinette seemed shocked for a moment. “You really think I should? I wouldn’t even know where to start. And how would I afford a building? I don’t think I could do it.” Marinette continued to anxiously ramble, until Damian came to stand in front of Marinette. “Marinette, Angel, breathe. I am sure you would do wonderfully. And as for the building, my father has multiple buildings in the city that he isn’t using. I am sure he would allow you to set up in one of them.” After more convincing, Marinette agreed to at least ask Bruce about it. When they approached Bruce, he was very willing to help Marinette set up her first boutique. He had seen the girl’s designs and knew that she would be a major success. Marinette felt bad about just taking one of his buildings and accepting his help with getting everything she needed for the boutique, but she accepted when Bruce told her to consider it a loan if that made her more comfortable. Then, they immediately started setting up her boutique.

---------------------

After about a month, everything was set up and Marinette’s boutique had opened under the name MDC. She was an instant success and quickly became very busy with several orders from big name clients. As time went on, Marinette began to feel like Gotham was her home. One day, after she had closed the boutique and was leaving with Damian to go on a date, they were approached by a familiar face. “Adrien?” Adrien smiled and approached her. “Hi Marinette.” Damian sensing the tension, stepped closer to Marinette. “Who is this Marinette?” Adrien looked at the boy standing next to Marinette and didn’t recognize him at all. “Damian, this is Adrien, someone I knew in Paris. Adrien, this is my boyfriend Damian.” That took Adrien by surprise, but he moved past it. He was sure that Marinette would leave this Damian and come back to Paris where she belonged.

----------------

“So what are you doing here Adrien?” Adrien smiled again, “I am here to bring you home Marinette! Lila has been found out and she is gone. You don’t have to keep hiding here in Gotham. You can come home and back to the class. Everything can go back to normal.” Marinette just stared at him, as Damian started to get angry. Adrien didn’t pick up on the tension. “So come on. Lets go get your things. We can fly back to Paris in the morning.” Adrien tried to grab her arm, but Marinette moved back, avoiding him. “I’m sorry Adrien, but I’m not going back. I am really happy here. I still have months with the study abroad program and may stay here permanently if I can. I have friends who wouldn’t leave me for a liar. Damian is here. And my boutique is doing really well. I am not ready to go back to Paris.” Adrien just rolled his eyes. “Come on Marinette, you have friends in Paris, and you can set up a new boutique in Paris. Its no big deal. So come on, lets go.” Adrien once again tried to grab at Marinette’s arm, this time Damian got in his way and shoved him back. “Marinette said she didn’t want to go with you so that is that. You should go now, you have embarrassed yourself enough.” Adrien glared at Damian, angry that he was getting in his way. “I am not leaving. Not until Marinette tells me to, so stay out of this.” Marinette stepped out from behind Damian, looking more confident then Adrien ever remembered seeing her. “Adrien you should leave. I am happy here and I am not going back to Paris. My ‘friends’ in Paris turned their backs on me because of the liar’s pretty words. My friends here would never do that to me. Now please leave.” Adrien was shocked, and didn’t move. Damian rolled his eyes and guided Marinette around Adrien and back to the manor.

------------------

Adrien went back to Paris, alone, the day after his conversation with Marinette. He was surprised that Marinette wouldn’t come back with him. Mrs. Bustier’s class was sad when Adrien came back without Marinette. They had hoped she would come back, but unlike Adrien, they knew the chances were slim. While they were sad that Marinette was gone and that they had chased off such a good friend, they were happy that she had found a place that she could live happily. They tried to move on, hoping that one day they may get the chance to apologize to Marinette in person.

-------------------

Marinette stayed in Gotham after her conversation with Adrien. She finished her year with the study abroad program and then decided to live in Gotham permanently, with her parents blessing. She continued to stay at the manor, living happily with the Waynes. She continued using the horse miraculous to go back and forth to Paris for the akumas and soon revealed her identity to the Waynes once she realized they were the Batfam. Her boutique continued to be a major success. Her life had improved in every way it could. She was surrounded by true friends, she had a boyfriend who truly cared for her, her fashion business had started with great success, and she didn’t have to deal with the liar anymore. She was the happiest she had been in a long time, and she intended to be this happy for the rest of her life in Gotham.

647 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

Small Gods: Patience - 1

Patience: A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1611

Warnings: Language, guns, (smut, angst, and canon typical violence on series)

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THE REMAINDER OF THIS SERIES, EITHER ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST OR SEND ME A MESSAGE

Chapter 1

Natasha stood on the edge of the building watching the chaos break out below her. The team was supposed to be infiltrating a new underground crime group to figure out where a drop-off was happening. They’d had men on a street corner no one had managed to clock, and it had just happened to be the one Steve was observing, and they’d spotted him. That had made the whole crew antsy and then they’d wanted to change locations for the meet. That had meant a sudden scramble to relocate everyone, so they could keep monitoring the situation. Tony had nearly been spotted as they did and ended up having to leave the area completely so it looked like another normal New York City Iron Man sighting. To top that off, Sharon’s comms had just stopped working completely and so no one had any idea what the group was actually saying. It had been a series of fuck-ups and she knew she would have to get down into the mess soon the way things were going, but she was waiting to see if Clint could salvage it as he bumbled along the street acting stupid so that he could ‘accidentally bumped into his old friends Sharon’ and get some ears back on the scene.

“God, grant me patience,” she sighed. It was a prayer that had become commonplace for her. She’d use it when she was on an undercover mission where she had to pretend to be much less intelligent than she was. She used it when she helped patch up Clint’s cuts after he’d spent a whole day being incredibly agile and dexterous, only to trip over his doormat and land face-first into a cactus he didn’t even know he owned. She used it when Tony went on one of his rambling stories that she already knew. She used it when she had to watch Steve jump off yet another stupidly high point for no reason other than he had to be their first.

“I’m not sure, Natalia,” a voice coming from way too closer said. “I’m not sure that’s what you actually want.”

She spun around, quickly assuming a defensive position. You stood at the corner of the building, completely relaxed. You had dark sunglasses on and what looked like a faux leather jacket and large black boots. You were leaning against the wall slightly and twirling a lollipop in your mouth, and despite the fact that on just about anyone else she’d think they were trying too hard, you seemed effortlessly cool.

“Who are you?” Natasha snarled.

“Patience,” you said simply.

“Don’t tell me to be patient when you’ve just snuck up on me in the middle of a mission. Tell me what you want, or I’ll send that piece of candy through the back of your throat.”

You laughed and held up your hands. “Okay, killer,” you teased. “Relax. I wasn’t telling you what to do. I was saying that’s who I am.”

Natasha quirked her eyebrow at you. “So your name is Patience, and you sit around waiting for people to pray for patience and you pop out thinking it’s a funny joke? You know how close to death you just came right now? I’m in the middle of something. Go away before you get someone hurt.”

Natasha spun back to look down at Sharon who was now talking to Clint. She saw the quick sleight of hand as they exchanged mic packs.

“Patience isn’t my name,” you laughed.

Natasha rolled her eyes, hoping to cling on to the last remaining patience she had rather than breaking your neck. That would just lead to a lot of paperwork. “You said it was.”

“No,” you said, straightening up and reaching into your inner jacket pocket.

Natasha pulled her gun and pointed at you. “Don’t even think about it.”

You pulled your hand out with a business card pinched between your thumb and index finger. You raised your hands and flicked the card up so it was held between your index and middle finger. “I said I was patience,” you said, taking a few steps toward her. Natasha’s fingers twitched on the trigger finger as she tried to read your intention. “You’ve been praying to me a lot lately. I thought I’d show up. But - you’re obviously not ready yet.” You offered the card to Natasha and she took it without taking her eyes off you. “Now… count to two hundred, and then go down the fire escape. Agent Carter will be fine until then, and that will get you there exactly when you need to be.”

“What?” Natasha asked, now completely confused.

“Just a suggestion,” you answered and casually strode off to the stairwell, leaving Natasha alone on the roof, completely perplexed over what had just happened. She looked down at the business card. Embossed in gold on the glossy black card were your name, address, and phone number. There was no mention of a job or business or even the word patience that you had kept bringing up.

Natasha furrowed her brow and tucked the card into her pocket. She wasn’t a trusting person by nature, but she had enough experience with magic to know not to completely ignore what you said. She counted to two hundred as she paid close attention to what was happening in the street. As she carefully made her way down to the fire escape, there was a commotion and Sharon drew her gun. People scattered as a large van pulled up and armed men spilled out.

Natasha cursed under her breath as the street broke out in utter chaos.

“How did you even get there so fast?” Sharon asked.

Thanks to your warning, Natasha had gotten there at the perfect time to take out most of the gunmen before they’d even shouldered their weapons. In the end, while the plan hadn’t exactly gone how everyone had wanted it, and they still needed to actually find where they were operating from, they had made a lot of arrests, and thanks to Natasha, lots of innocent lives had been saved from being caught in the crossfire.

“There was this woman…” Natasha started, not quite sure how to explain your strange appearance and departure from the rooftop.

“Oohhh…” Clint teased. “Nat got the hots for some hot Chiquita.”

“Gross, Clint,” Natasha snarked. “Don’t be a letch.” Clint held up his hands in surrender and Natasha let out a long breath. “It was weird though.”

“How was it weird?” Steve said, sitting forward in his chair. “Anything we need to worry about?”

Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know - maybe,” she said. “She said she was patience.”

Clint snorted. “You definitely need to find her then,” he teased. Natasha swatted him on the back of the head. “See,” he complained, rubbing his head.

“So her name was Patience?” Steve said, opening up a drop-down screen above the coffee table. “FRIDAY, do we have any record of a Patience as a member of any known criminal organizations.”

“Her name wasn’t Patience,” Natasha said, pulling the card out of her pocket and handing it to Steve. “She said she was patience.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, typing the details into the computer.

Natasha shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Tony chuckled. “I like the idea of anthropomorphic adjectives walking around.”

“Patience is a noun, Tony,” Bruce scolded. “And so is Tony.”

“You know what I mean,” Tony said, waving his hands around. “You can feel patient, you can’t feel Tony.” He paused for a moment. “Not unless you asked nicely.”

“Maybe she’s some kind of god,” Clint said. Everyone turned to him and Natasha raised her eyebrow. Sometimes Clint would say things that were so simple and so profoundly intelligent that she wasn’t sure if he just blindly stumbled into the answer or he was an actual genius.

“Is that a thing?” Sam asked. “Just random gods of emotions?”

Natasha shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s a pity Thor isn’t here, we could ask him. But she did say I’d been praying to her.”

Clint snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“But Thor’s not a real god, is he?” Steve said. “Wasn’t the theory that he’s just an alien that lives a long time and humans just decided he was a god?”

“The dude makes lightning, Cap,” Sam teased. “Maybe he’s not the only place it comes from, but he can definitely create it and control it. Why can’t there be the equivalent for something like patience.”

Clint snatched the card from Steve and shoved it into Natasha’s hands. “I say you call her.”

“You just want Nat to stop smacking you on the back of the head,” Bucky snorted.

“No, I want to see my best friend get laid,” Clint said, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I bet someone who can command patience would be great at sex.”

“And…?” Bucky pressed.

“And I don’t want to get clocked on the back of the head anymore,” Clint muttered.

Everyone laughed and Natasha looked down at the card, spinning it around in her hand.

“You look like you’re considering it, Red,” Tony mused. “What was she like?”

“Cryptic,” Natasha replied. “Cool.”

“Was she hot?” Clint asked.

“I think so,” Natasha said.

“So call her,” Sharon shrugged. “She helped me out. She can’t be all that bad.”

Natasha nodded. “At the very least I might get some answers.”

“And who knows, Nat,” Clint said. “Maybe she’ll be able to teach you a trick or two.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek trying not to laugh, and wishing she had a little bit of that patience right now.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

278 notes · View notes

yourmcu · 3 years

Text

Mesmerized (iii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,138

A/n: notes at the end

Warnings: crash, mentions of explosion, swearing, space mission, soft!nat, quill’s a jerk

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Your departure from Earth made its one-year mark.

Natasha hasn’t felt like herself since you left. She’s known you for a few months but it felt like ages, it felt like she knew everything about you from the amount of time you spent together.

It’s not like you had a choice. The guardians needed you and of course you’re gonna be there for them too. They saved your ass countless of time and, well, they’re your family.

“Shit!”

Natasha frowns, leaning forward a bit from her sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

You fail to respond back. You curse once more in realization that you had no more ammo left in your guns, using your fire conjuring abilities is risky in this situation too, given on what type of creatures you're fighting.

Rocket is still determined to fight but you know he’s not gonna make it alive so you pick him up and sprint to your ship.

“I had it under control!” The raccoon yells.

“You’re kidding, right? The others already left!” You boom, fiddling with the buttons and levers of the ship to try and start it. The rattling of the monsters behind getting you frazzled. “Fucking-”

“Out of the way before you burn the controls, I got it.”

You go to the back part of the ship to reload all your weapons. You sigh in relief when Rocket managed to start the ship.

The mission went horribly wrong. People died and you were outnumbered. You almost set Groot on fire because of how overwhelmed you were, the fact that Quill was expressing how pissed he was at you didn’t help. Usually the team had every mission handled and sorted. You weren’t used to losing.

And you forgot Natasha is still connected to the call.

She just listens further. It's more silent than earlier so she figured you got away from whatever happened, but she's ready to try and help whatever it takes even though she's a thousand miles away.

“Quill’s not responding,” you frown, frantically searching the back of the ship for the backup weapons. “He must’ve turned his comms off. Can you contact the other ship there?”

“No, offline,” Rocket mumbles, more focused on getting the ship moving. “But geez, you and him have to sort things out.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Save it, we’re still being followed!” Rocket swerves in attempt to knock off the creatures - who're still actively chasing the spaceship. They could fly, and there are a lot. You couldn’t imagine anything like it.

You try your best to fight them off through the spacious hatch on top, but of course you have no match for all of them. You wish Thor was here. As far as you knew he's sorting Asgard things out with Valkyrie.

Every minute just gets worse. The flight gets unstable the more those creatures are catching up, you're surprised they're so determined to destroy both of you.

“Can you go any faster?!”

“I can’t, can I?!” Rocket's driving and pressing multiple buttons for the jump at the same time.

“Y/N,” Natasha calls out, hoping you could still hear her. “I can tell the team if you need any help-”

On your end, she just got more blasters and guns going off, orders flying between you and the raccoon.

“We need to shake them off, this ship’s not gonna handle them,” You say exasperated. “I’m gonna cause a distraction, got it? You need to get us out of here - anywhere - I don’t care how many jumps it takes!”

Rocket, as rare as it is, displays concern in his face, but he sighs and grips on the levers. “Ready when you are.”

You suck in a breath, letting out a huge burst of what seems like fire and just - heat, aiming at the creatures closest to the ship. It gets nearly all of them. The raccoon mutters a quick countdown, watching you fall unconscious from the hatch in the corner of his eye. He pushes the lever forward slowly, jumping to the one place he knows the both of you could get help.

Earth.

As soon as you let yourself go, Natasha loses the connection. The intensity of you using your powers like that might’ve affected it.

“God,” she mutters, pacing around her table, “Friday, you still have contact on that ship?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff,” the A.I responds, and for a moment, a huge explosion sounded somewhere in the forest near the compound. “...and they just landed. Would you like me to send you the exact coordinates?”

Of course Natasha doesn’t waste time to go out and find you. Thankfully Steve is around and was shaken by the sudden explosion too. It’s snowing, the forest covered with thick snow so it wouldn’t be hard to find wherever the ship crashed.

“She’ll be alright, Nat. We’ll find her.” Steve reassures.

Natasha’s breath hitches at the sight of the aircraft completely destroyed, pieces everywhere, she wasted no time to find you under all the rubble.

The unconscious raccoon isn’t hard to find, but you had it worse considering you were already out before the crash.

“Steve,” she states, walking over scraps and metal to get to you. You're sickly pale, giving Natasha the feeling that she's too late but she did feel a slight pulse. There’s blood on the side of your forehead but other than that,

“She’s freezing,” and it isn’t from the snow alone, she thought. You're colder than that. Natasha has an arm around your back and behind your knees, getting ready to carry you. “Steve, we-”

“I’ll call Bruce to get them sorted out. Try and find their stuff that’s not destroyed.” His tone is firm. He doesn’t wait for a response, gently grabbing you from her and strides back to the compound.

Natasha sighs. Almost everything she sees is unrecognizable except for a few complicated looking guns that definitely looks like Rocket’s and your bag you took on one of your dates. Biting the inside of her cheek, she opens it, sighing in relief when everything inside looked in order.

She finds a wallet-sized picture of both of you at a fair's photo booth. You always held onto it and kept it in your pocket most of the time that's why it looks worn out, probably from you holding it so much. This makes Natasha's heart ache, deciding to keep it for the meantime, carrying all your stuff that's left to the compound.

- You wake with a start. You're facing the clean white ceiling of the Avengers' med bay and you tilt your head to the side to see Natasha sleeping on a stool beside your bed with her head lulling forward and her arms are crossed. As much as you feel relieved to see her, you're confused on how you got here, how she found you. You lift your arm to gently pat the redhead awake. She sighs and goes to rub her neck. "You're cold." You smile softly, cringing at the rasp of your voice. "Didn't want you to be sore from the way you were sleeping." "I'm glad you're awake." "How long was I out?" Natasha gets up to get you a glass of water while you sit up the bed. "Twelve hours. You definitely needed the rest, everything sounded really crazy up there," she says. "Rocket's somewhere around, he left his bed the moment he got up." She hands you the glass and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. Feeling how cold you still are since they found you in the forest, she grabs a remote to crank the heater up a bit. You purse your lips and cross your legs, looking at her. "How'd you find us?" "Let's just say we heard the impact of the crash from here," Natasha eyes the bandages on the side of your head for a moment. "It was really lucky your ship crashed nearby, but you know I wouldn't hesitate to get on the jet just to find you. And when I did, I... I thought you were-"

Your hand immediately goes to cup her cheek, the contrast of warm and cold making Natasha relax in your touch. "I'm here now. You saved me." She returns your smile and holds onto your hand on her cheek. "I missed you." "I missed you too." "You know, I did specifically set those coordinates," Rocket says as he enters the room with Tony. "Technically I saved us." Your smile only widens and Natasha chuckles, turning to Tony to see what he has to say about your condition. "You really wore yourself out there fireball, is she still freezing cold?" He asks this to Natasha specifically and she nods. You furrow your eyebrows and turn to your fists, clenching them, only noticing now that you are freezing. "I'm gonna run a simple test and if all goes as expected, Bruce is gonna give you a shot." "Have you already got a conclusion on what happened to me?" You question. Tony pulls out something from his pocket. "Sure have. Now set this on fire." He tosses you a solid crumpled paper. Holding it between three fingers you expect it to turn into ash in your palm, but it stayed the way it is. You're looking at it now to help focus on setting it on fire but it still stayed as normal paper. Natasha grips you on the arm. "I think that's enough." "You went all out with your powers. I did see you let out an overwhelming amount when we were trying to outrun those creatures before you passed out." Rocket states. "Naturally it'll come back, but the shot should help you with your... body temperature and hopefully the speed of recovery." Tony adds. You groan, back landing on the pillow behind you. Not only does losing your powers suck but you aren't a big fan of needles either, but you'll deal with them if you really have to. Natasha's hand slowly crawls up to intertwine with yours, although her attention was still on Tony. "She's gonna have to stay here at least until she recovers, right?" She also looks at Rocket if he has any objections but he merely nods his head. "'Course, they're welcome here for as long as they want." Tony claps his hands together and dismisses himself, Rocket following behind. "In the meantime I'll be figuring out a way to build a new ship." The raccoon says before closing the door behind him. Natasha makes her way to sit beside you and you automatically scooch to make space and rest your head against her shoulder, taking a breath. "You alright?" You shrug. "I guess I do feel pretty useless without those powers. I mean, Quill without a doubt would never let me go on missions anymore. I'd just be a burden to everyone." She lets go of your hand to put around you. "Everything doesn't revolve around your powers, Y/N. You're not useless. I bet you could take that Quill guy down in a fist fight." You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. "What's that guy like anyway?" The sudden question makes your head perk up. "Oh, you know, Quill, he's a nice guy-" Natasha let out a noise, cutting you off. "Didn't sound like it while I was connected in the call." "He can be a mouthful to me sometimes," you admit quietly. "Not to everyone though, I do generally think he's a nice guy. I have no idea what I did that made him so pissed at me." You look up at her and she's staring at the wall, seeming like she's deep in thought. "He doesn't hurt you, does he?" "God, no. He's not like that," you say. "If he did want to of course I wouldn't just take it." Natasha smiles, "that's my girl." You hung your head low so she couldn't see the way you flushed at the phrase, biting your lip to hold in a smile. “I’m glad you have my back, though.”

“I always do. Always will.”

"So, when can I leave this room?"

"After Bruce gives you the shot, then we can do whatever we want." She tilts your head up to move your hair out of your face. You look at her with an amused expression, "where do you plan on taking me this time?” Natasha smirks at the question. She loves spending all her time with you and the sight of you enjoying yourself makes it better. "There’s a new bookstore open, thought you might like it. Also an amusement park. It’s a few hours away but I can always drive. Oh, Tony’s cabin. I’m sure he’d love you to meet his newborn Morgan.”

“Sounds like you have a list,” you muse.

Natasha hums, pulling you closer. “I do.”

final one!! no one’s really looking forward to this but I enjoyed writing it anyway :)

btw wrote this way before thor: love and thunder so i have no idea what him and the guardians are up to but i wish them the best

[shameless plug] check out this natasha ambience i made some people thought it was cool

318 notes · View notes

theodorecanaryhood · 3 years

Text

Scary moments of life

Jason Todd and female reader have been together for 5 years, reader suddenly leaves and no one knows why.

It was perfect in the beginning, Jason was your soulmate. He was a perfect gentleman.

You met one night at a dive bar, Roy introduced you to him and right away everyone could tell that Jason was smitten.

He asked you out after 4 months of friendship and that’s when Jason changed, he was a puppy for you. He loved you so much that it hurt him when he thought about if you ever left.

He would sit and read with you laying across his lap, he play video games with you on his lap hugging him while you worked on your art work. He held your hand all the time when you were out.

He kissed you first, you told him you loved him first, the look on his face made you realise how much he fell for you.

Now, after 5 years of being together Jason was sitting on the floor of your shared apartment crying his heart out alone. You left with no word, just walked out and didn’t tell him why. Jason couldn’t move, he’d been sitting here for about an hour, or maybe 12 he couldn’t really care.

His throat hurt, his mouth was dry and every time he tried to move he would start crying again.

Bruce and Dick walked into the apartment and found him, sitting there still sobbing. Not able to get up.

‘Jason’ Dick said quietly as to not startle him, Bruce walked over and sat in front of Jason.

‘Dad’ Jason cried as he wrapped his arms around his father, crying more. Dick choked up at the sight.

‘It’s ok son, I’m here’ Bruce says, holding onto his son as hard as he can. So thankful he can still hold him in rare moments since he came back from the dead. Jason doesn’t know just how much Bruce truly loves him.

Alfred had been baking all day, out of nerves mostly as the last time Jason was this emotional he left, and disappeared only for the batfam to find out he had been killed by the Joker.

‘Master Todd, would you like another cookie?’ Alfred asked, Jason tried his best to smile but couldn’t.

‘She hasn’t called you? Or texted?’ Tim asked, sitting opposite Jason at the table. Jason shrugged, not able to speak.

As Alfred and Tim start chatting trying to encourage Jason to join the conversation, Jason’s phone starts ringing.

‘Y/n is calling me, shall I answer?’ Jason asks, Alfred smiles and nods.

‘Of course Jay, think she wants to explain’ Tim replied.

You had called because you wanted to arrange to see Jason face to face, he wasn’t too thrilled as he was hurt by your sudden departure, but it was you. He’s do anything and everything for you.

He met you at a local cafe, sitting outside in the sun. He hugged you tight, kissing you, you kissed him back. He missed your touch and your lips.

‘Hey Jason’ you smiled, tears in your eyes ‘can we sit?’ You asked.

‘What’s going on? You just left and never said anything’ Jason asked as he sat down opposite with his coffee.

‘I know, I’m so sorry I never meant for it to happen that way, I was scared and didn’t know what to do or say’ you started to explain. Jason looked confused.

‘What are you talking about y/n?’ Jason asked with a raised brow. You went shy suddenly and pulled out something from your purse, handing it to Jason.

In his hands, as he looked his life changed in the matter of seconds. He wasn’t able to speak for a few seconds, nor was he able to move. He had so many thoughts in his head.

‘I was scared, I didn’t know what to say to you and I didn’t know how you’d react. So I left cause I needed to think’ you explained, Jason still didn’t speak or move.

‘I get it if you never want to speak to me again...’

‘I love you’ Jason cut you off, ‘I love you no matter what life throws at us, and I love our baby’ he continues. You start crying again, this time happiness and wrap your arms around Jason.

‘I love you too babe’ you reply, people walking passed and sitting around look at you two in confusion, Jason looks around.

‘She’s having my baby guys, we’re gonna be parents’ Jason laughs, everyone starts either clapping, smiles or says congratulations.

‘Let’s go home babe’ you smile, taking Jason’s hand.

Jason accepts and walks with you, knowing you’ll have to deal with the bat boys later. Jason promises he’ll speak to them first. Ease them into it.

News about a new addition was all it took to get everyone cheering and happy, Bruce still not happy you left but understood. You of course apologised to him too and hugged him. Dick and Jason were now gonna be overprotective and overbearing at times until the baby came. But you loved it.

#red hood #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #gotham #jason todd #dc x you #dc

147 notes · View notes

toosicktoocare · 4 years

Text

Prompt: this might be too vague but how about sick dick or jason (your pick, i'm fine with either) hiding it from bruce on patrol bc things are really bad between them at the moment

Catch me flying with the typical Jason is still A+ Bitter at Bruce

With the recent rise in aggravated incidents in Crime Alley, Jason’s been forced to share his patrols with the bats, an idea he violently fought against until Alfred stepped in, the calm, steady voice of reason, and insisted it was necessary for his safety.

Monday he had Dick, and things were... okay. Dick’s face is plastered beside the definition of “handful,” but he knows how to respect Jason’s patrol strategies, following wordlessly and only helping when needed. On Tuesday, Tim proved similar to Dick, his maturity blossoming. Though, he asked more questions, weirdly curious about Jason’s lingering effects of the Lazarus Pit. Jason answered each, hoping his short, clipped replies would hush the replacement because his head was starting to pound along each question.

Jason wasn’t surprised to see Damian on Wednesday, but he was definitely annoyed. He had woken up with a splitting headache that seemed to bleed down to his muscles, pushing against them. He thought, at first, it was a migraine, but the pain in his head was different and accompanied with a flushing fever heat that colored his cheeks. He said nothing to Damian, and Damian merely scoffed and disappeared to navigate Crime Alley areas alone. Jason let him, going off on his own as well, and they met up to one-word debrief before parting ways for the night.

When Jason shoots his grapple hook to the edge of a rooftop on Thursday, he expects to find Dick again. Maybe Cass. What he doesn’t expect is to see the unwanted, annoyingly familiar, brooding shadow of Batman standing atop the roof, arms crossed, mouth flat.

Jason’s stomach drops, and he stumbles his landing, catching himself with a hushed curse. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Bruce sighs, fingers visibly digging a little harder into his arms. “Language, Hood.”

“This is my territory,” Jason spits back. “I’ll say whatever the fuck I want. Why are you here? Doesn’t Batman have bigger things to do?” Saying ‘Batman’ aloud leaves a sour taste atop Jason’s tongue, a bitter word that plays with the dull burn of the Lazarus Pit.

Since Jason’s return to Gotham, Bruce has been trying to reconcile, but Jason’s not willing to forgive and forget. He’ll try with the others, more so because they are annoyingly persistent, but not with Bruce. He can’t wrap his mind around forgiving Bruce for letting him die, for letting the Joker continue to breathe while he took his first last breath.

“I want to be here.”

“That’s fucking gold,” Jason rolls his eyes and turns away, absently coughing into his fist as he scans his rapid departure. The coughing’s a new development, only just testing his lungs when he woke this morning, but the headache’s remained, a steady, pulsing thump that his repeated consumption of pain killers can’t seem to touch. He doesn’t need a thermometer to know he’s running a fever; he’s got the inconsistent jumping from boiling hot to freezing cold to supply that for him.

“Jay-”

“Code names, Batman,” Jason growls before he shoots his grapple hook to a rooftop adjacent to them, moving along the sudden pull of weightlessness until his feet are thumping atop the next roof. He breaks out into a run, falling into a pattern of leaping over smaller gaps and grapple hooking over larger ones, all to ditch Bruce. His muscles are trembling from the sudden exertion, but he feeds off of the pain, pushing himself harder and harder when he hears Bruce not far behind him.

He only stops when he hears a woman scream from below, skidding to an unsteady stop and peering over a roof edge just as Bruce lands heavily beside him.

“Muggers.”

“No shit,” Jason grumbles, already bracing to leap off the building. “Do me a favor? Stay the fuck out of my way.” He jumps to the sound of Bruce’s strangled “Jay,” ignoring it as he grabs a fire escape to soften his fall. He lands strategically between the two muggers and a young woman.

“Today’s your lucky day, gentlemen.” Jason smiles sharply under his mask. “I’m in a really shitty mood, so I’ll make this quick.” His fist moves on its own, and he allows the aggravation to bleed to a dull rage that pushes his punches, plants his feet, and pulls his dodges. In just a minute, the two muggers are unconscious at his feet, and the woman’s running from the scene, stopping only when Batman drops to the ground in front of her and talks her into staying to give a statement to the GCPD.

Jason’s already shooting back up to the next rooftop, and his lungs quake against a bursting fit of coughs the second his feet make a rough landing. He coughs into his helmet, his chest shaking, but he forces a steady breath when Bruce drops beside him. Though, it takes more blinking then he expects to clear his wavering vision.

“Do you plan on following me all night?” Jason questions, tired and far too hot under his suit. “I don’t need my territory associating the Red Hood with Batman. I have a reputation, and you’re going to fuck that up for me.”

“I’m here to help.”

“You can help on the East side of Crime Alley,” Jason mutters, a few, weaker coughs slipping past his lips. “I’ll handle the rest.” He drops to a landing below him, leaping over to the roof of a convenience store, and his legs buckle on the landing. He falls to his knees, his vision swimming faintly, and he unconsciously taps into the deep-rooted burn of the Lazarus Pit when Bruce drops beside him, one hand frozen mid-reach toward Jason’s back.

“What part,” Jason growls, coughing hollowly around each word, “of fuck off isn’t clicking in that empty skull of yours?” He’s shaking despite the heat gripping at his bones, and he clumsily undos the lock on his helmet, sucking in a ragged breath when his burning face is exposed to the cool wind.

“Jay?”

“Jesus Christ, B,” Jason spits out, forcing himself to his feet and slapping Bruce’s hand away. “Just fucking go.” His throat’s burning, and his head feels oddly heavy despite the absence of his helmet. The skin across his face is so hot it’s practically itching, and he rips at his domino, squeezing it in his fist when Bruce frowns deeply at him.

“Jason? What’s wrong?”

Jason laughs, and his laugh gives way to a few, chesty coughs that rattle his lungs. His vision is graying at the edges, and he hastily rubs at his eyes. “What’s wrong is I’m tired of you and the fucking peanut gallery clinging to me like fucking leeches!” He’s faintly aware that he’s breathing too fast, and he’s impossibly hot. He swipes at his eyes again, but his vision only darkens. He’s fading, and yet, his body is mingling with panic.

He feels Bruce slip and ungloved hand across his forehead, and he tries to jerk away from it, but Bruce keeps him in place with his other hand wrapped tightly around his arm.

“Jason, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you say?”

Bruce’s classic growl, Jason thinks, is wavering? He’s not sure because his ears are ringing. “Because it’s not your fucking busin-” Jason stops, his mouth forming a round ‘oh’ right as his vision goes black.

***

Bruce catches Jason as he falls, and he swallows back the panic threateninng to cripple him as he taps his comm, rattling off his coordinates. “Who is closest?”

“I am,” Dick chimes in after a moment. “I can be there in five. What’s up?”

“I need to get Jason back to the manor. Do you think you can cover the Alley alone tonight?”

“Of course, but what’s up, B? Is Jason okay?”

“No,” Bruce whispers, smoothing a shaking palm to Jason’s burning forehead. “But he will be.”

***

Jason’s entire body feels impossibly heavy, so heavy that he struggles to open his eyes, mind briefly flicking toward panic at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“You’re at the manor.”

The ceiling suddenly makes sense his mind, as does the voice at his side. He drags his gaze to see a Bruce sitting in a chair at his bedside. He frowns, briefly glancing to the IV in his arm before turning back to Bruce, a silent question in his eyes.

“You fainted on patrol. You were running a fever of 103.3 degrees, and you were dehydrated.”

Shit. Jason knew he was sick, but he hadn’t realized he let it get that bad. He wants to talk, even opens his mouth to, but Bruce holds a single hand up, shaking his head.

“Save your strength. You’re on the mend, but not as quickly as we’d like.” Bruce slips to his feet, his eyes colored in dark pain that Jason catches onto.

“I’ll give you some time to yourself now that you’re awake, but I’ll be back, and you are just going to have to deal with that.”

Jason’s mind is fuzzy, confused, pained, but he feels a fraction lighter along the knowledge that while he blacked out, he woke back up this time, safe, alive. He stares at Bruce’s back headed to the door.

“B?”

Bruce stops, and he whips around, one brow arched.

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Of course, son.”

Bruce leaves, and Jason decides that, just for tonight, he’ll take muted comfort in the single word that carries an impossibly heavy amount of weight.

Son.

#batman #batfam #sickfic #whump #whumpfic #jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batbros #batfamily #my writing #my batfam writing #daddy bats #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #idk how the lazarus pit works yall lmao #i'm just rolling with it lmao

157 notes · View notes

nightwingmyboi · 4 years

Note

I'll always remember Devin Grayson as the woman who wrote Nightwing getting raped by a supervillain and then tried to pass it off as "wasn't rape, just nonconsensual"...which is LITERALLY THE DEFINITION OF RAPE, YOU HACK!

MSL: Male rape is a topic rarely touched on in comics. Why is it suited to bring it into Nightwing?

DEVIN GRAYSON: For the record, I’ve never used the word “rape,” I just said it was nonconsensual (I know, aren’t writers frustrating? *smiles*) [x]

Yeah there is no other word for what happened in Nightwing #93 other than rape...I can’t imagine why she would say otherwise. She did technically apologize, but that was ten or so years later. So she eventually, finally did come out and just admit what everyone already knew, but she was still way too late to actually fix any of the damage she caused with how she completely mishandled things. I also don’t think her little apology begins to cover all the issues I have with her.

Devin’s characterization of Dick is just so, so freaking twisted to me. Really, I don’t think there is a Nightwing writer I despise more than Devin Grayson. The interviews I’ve read from her give me the creeps:

DG: The way I think about him [Dick], he likes everyone, he’s sort of a contact junkie - just this incredibly physical (and attractive) person who lives wholly in the corporeal plane and responds with - processes things in - his body before his head or heart. I imagine that he can be hypnotized by a touch the way other people can be stopped dead in their tracks by the sight of money or the promise of true love. I think he likes kicking and kissing in almost equal measure - except kissing edges out ahead because you can do it for longer and it leads to nicer things. [x]

Yeah that’s fucking unsettling. This is Devin being gross and projecting her sexual fantasy’s onto Dick. And she very much invented this extreme view of Dick as obsessively physical. Pre-52 Dick was always written as a master strategist, an unparalleled leader, one of the best detectives in the world, outside of Devin’s writing. Her fantasy version of Dick doesn’t mesh with that...Dick wouldn’t be capable leader if he’s “thinking with his body” (whatever that means) all the time. He’s survived this long because he’s intelligent and logical. Frankly, Devin’s take on things doesn’t even make any freaking sense. But it gets worse:

DDG: I’m writing a novel for WB right now that he’s in and I have one scene where Batman has to stop a fight before it gets out of control, and most of the people he can just yell or glare at, but with Dick, he just stands really close behind him and Dick freezes. That’s not supposed to be a sexual thing (though it is kinda hot! ::laughs::), it’s an understanding on Bruce’s part that his physical proximity will speak just as quickly and loudly to Dick as his voice, maybe even be processed faster.

What the actual fuck. You’ve probably guessed it based on how that little scenario played out. Devin ships Dick with Bruce.

DG: And now think about being a very physical and naturally gregarious and loving person and growing up with someone like Bruce. Then add in the confusion about his status - a “ward” is something you stop being the minute you turn eighteen. Having already lost his parents and then hurling into adolescence at the speed he did...in my personal version of the story, he develops sexual desire and social anxiety about the future at the same time, and this leads to tremendous confusion, on his part, about his role in Bruce’s life. He can’t be a ward forever, in the back of his head he knows he won’t be Robin forever...what is he to this man who is at once his best friend and personal savior, personal god? “Son” is what they eventually settle on, but I think when Dick was in his late teens, the idea of “lover” must have run through his mind (which means, really, as we’ve already discussed, it ran through his body).

Wild that Dick is usually written as incredibly intelligent and emotionally cognizant (was able to puzzle out Damian’s complex motivations and needs when no one else in Damian’s life could for example) and yet Devin thinks he’s not able to sort out that he’s not supposed to make sexual advances towards his father. And by wild I mean stupid as fuck. And, just fyi, Devin goes with the version of events where Bruce took Dick in when he was eight years old! So he’s pretty fucking young when this is all happening! Just when you thought it couldn’t get more disgusting.

Eventually, much later, Dick gets distracted by other relationships and is able to ease up enough on Bruce for Bruce to relax into his own comfort-level of kindness and affection again (once the threat of sexuality has been removed) and they carry on more or less unharmed. But the relationship remains incredibly powerful and intense for Dick, who ends up feeling apologetic, rejected, and confused on top of all the other issues we already know exist between the two of them. Dick responds to Bruce - or really I should say Batman, since that’s who his relationship is with - on every single level.

So, according to Devin, Dick views Bruce as his “personal god” and is incredibly submissive to and possessive of him. That’s why Devin’s writing is littered with scenes like this:

Gotham Knights #17

Where Dick acts incredibly awkward and “apologetic” about dating Barbara, because of how he previously made sexual advances towards Bruce in Devin’s fantasy world. Also with Devin, Dick spends a lot of his time stuttering every time Bruce is in the room, even though he’s usually a smooth talker, very chatty, and that’s because of the supposed “intensity” of Bruce and Dick’s relationship. And then there are scenes like this:

Gotham Knights #18

Where Dick uncharacteristically and disproportionately loses his cool at the slightest insinuation against Bruce and is reduced to an angry hot head. Dick has been noted to be incredibly level headed; he’s also famous for being a mediator among the hero community...this behavior is a complete departure from the way he would normally act under other writers. Dick’s also been one to level plenty of criticisms towards Bruce himself. This sudden personality change where Dick thinks Bruce can do no wrong, where no one can criticize Bruce in Dick’s presence without him absolutely blowing up, where he suddenly can’t control his emotions over the littlest things...it really exists primarily in Devin’s writing. It’s incredibly OOC behavior and it’s rooted in Devin’s sexual fantasies frankly.

Devin’s writing is also where Dick, despite being incredibly dedicated and monogamous in all of his previous relationships, suddenly became a womanizer. Literally, everyone was written as wanting to get into Dick’s pants: Rose Wilson was reduced to a giddy teenager because of Dick, random women in the streets would comment on how cute Nightwing was, a mob boss’s daughter who was only 15 years old was obsessed with Dick and made advances, Dick had a one night stand with Huntress because she reminded him of Bruce, Bruce called Dick “Hunk Wonder,” Dick undressed in front of fucking Deathstroke (and there was a newspaper with “Richard Wilson” on it as a sly little wink towards the audience), psycho vigilante Tarantula is obsessed with Dick to the point of raping him, the list goes on. If you want more samplings of how freaking disgusting and sex-obsessed Devin was when it came to Dick, look no further than her gross Inheritance book, where she ships Dick with everyone from Green Arrow to Aquaman (here are some quotes if you’re a masochist). And since Dick “thinks with his body” or whatever, Devin’d write him as receptive (or very oblivious) when it comes to this attention.

Gotham Knights #10

Nightwing (1996) #107

Another thing that made me extremely uncomfortable is how Devin would always have strangers and villains, especially older men--people who Dick very much did not know and wouldn’t appreciate being in his personal space--be all grabby with him. Please leave him alone.

Nightwing and Huntress #2

There Dick is, “hypnotized” in place by Huntress’s touch. Kill me. It is also especially messed up that Devin suddenly turned Dick into some sexual, warm-blooded hot head at the same time as she decided to introduce him as Romani.

Q: How could him being Romani be used to inform his characterization?

It reinforces his “otherness” where Bruce is concerned in what I think is a useful, interesting way...It also presents the opportunity for there to be a slight chip on his shoulder, which maybe speaks to his scrappiness. It also maybe gives him a slightly deeper way to relate to someone like Helena--someone who is white but other--and gives the people who love (or lust after) him a potential cultural excuse for feeling as bewitched as they sometimes do. I also just love the idea of Bruce occasionally calling him “hot blooded” just to mess with him, because Dick would of course deny being so in an extremely hot-blooded manner. [x]

Her feeding into the fetishizing of biracial individuals is just disgusting and wrong. If there’s a racist stereotype available Devin really goes out of her way to make sure she includes it in her writing huh.

Gotham Knights #20

And Bruce being a racist jerk is not charming Devin, it’s terrible. Barbara used slurs also, and was very dismissive of Dick’s reaction to Bruce’s actions...that was also horrible. It’s awful that Dick’s own family would apparently treat him this way. Obviously, Dick isn’t the only one that Devin would write out of character.

It’s all just so messed up to me, I can’t stand it. When I first read her comics, even when it wasn’t blatant like above, I would feel something subtly off...and once I read her interviews I can’t help but notice these horrible underlying insinuations in all of her work, in so many seemingly “innocent” scenes. There are a lot of big things she’s known for (her horrible treatment of Dick’s Romani heritage and his rape for example) but all these subtle, insidious little details that people don’t even really register...they are equally frustrating to me. Seeing sects of the fandom pick up these details (like, the idea that Dick doesn’t understand personal boundaries, the idea that he’s a hot head, the idea that he’s a womanizer, etc.) when I know a lot of it stems nearly solely from Devin’s crappy characterization and writing of Dick...it’s hard.

Q: Further to that, if Dick is gay, what kind of guy is his type?

DG: ...Type isn’t as important as passion and opportunity. Because of his psycho-sexual makeup, the other key factor would be a sense that he means something to that other man, that his “surrender” is making that man happy, allowing him to bring pleasure to someone (as he was never allowed to do for Bruce). There’s also a sense, if I may be so bold, of needing to be “caught” and “held down” - this going back to the trauma of losing his parents...being strong and passionate and heroic and virile and loving with a woman is fantastic, he lives for that. But he lost both parents. There is also a part of him that longs to be pinned down and loved a little bit savagely and hurt just enough to reassure him that he’s alive. Man, I’m totally gonna get fired when this comes out....

Literally makes me want to barf. That is supposed to be a professional, official writer at DC. Could go on forever.

#devin grayson #imma go vomit now #ask #nightwing #dick grayson #batman #rape #rape cw #comics #DC comics #character analysis #characterization #negative

148 notes · View notes

abrunettefangirlnerd · 4 years

Text

Insecure

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Oneshot

Summary: feeling insecure about your looks, Steve helps you to see what he sees.

You put away the last bit of the laundry. Life has been crazy this whole last week. The guys have been on mission after mission, meanwhile the aching pain in your side hasn’t subsided. Bruce, not to your delight, thinks you shouldn’t even be training. But you would go completely stir crazy laying in bed or on the couch all day.

What the boys know won’t hurt them. Besides, you want to try to stay in shape. Anytime you are under bed rest, you feel like your muscles turn to mush and your totally body fat sky rockets. Being insecure your whole life about your looks, you finally started to feel comfortable with all the cardio and weightlifting.

Especially around your friends from before becoming an Avenger. They all know you are a part of the team, your costume doesn’t exactly hide your identity. Neither did the fact that you blew up a baseball with your bare hands in college because it scared you. At a game the batter hit the ball into the crowd, it was coming for you, you threw your hands up in defense but never felt the ball hit your skin. Instead the ball fell to the ground in the small pieces that were left.

Fury found you shortly after. Explained to you that there are others, a team, a family that you could be a part of. You accepted the offer and never looked back. For once you felt like you belonged, but every once in a while some of your insecurities come flooding back.

“Hey gorgeous,” Steve’s deep voice creeps around your door frame. Joining your curled up body on your bed, Steve brushes your free hair behind your ear. “I have a surprise for you. I know you’ve been cooped up in this building for two weeks, so I brought your two friends from home.”

“Really?” You slowly sit up, griping your side. It feels like forever since you’ve seen them, and you’ve missed them desperately.

Steve nods his head with a smile. And before you know it, you leave Steve to smell the burning rubber from your rapid departure. Running through the pain, you make it to the corridor to see your long-term friends standing in awestruck wonder at the architecture.

“Oh my god! Christi! Abby!” You manage to apply your breaks just in time to keep from barreling the girls to the floor. Collecting your composure, you wrap each in an arm and offer a big group hug.

“Safe to say you like your surprise?” Steve appears by the stairs with a smug smirk.

Letting go of your girls, you race back toward Steve. Leaping into his arms, the pain doesn’t present itself until Steve’s arms securely wrap around you. Steve gets in a spin or two before putting you down. Kissing your temple, Steve apologizes for hurting you but you just shrug it off.

The girls and you end up in the art studio down the hall from your room. The movie Book Club plays in the background as the three of you attempt to paint while drinking your glasses of wine. Christi wants to know everything about the male Avengers. She is on the market for a boyfriend, and thinks a superhero will be a perfect match. However, Abby just wants to know about you and Steve.

“You two ARE dating right?” Abby takes a sip of her wine and wiggles the brows.

“We haven’t really put a title on it yet,” you can feel the warmth from the wine spread to your face. “We are definitely more than friends, but he has been so busy lately. Maybe once I’m back on the field we can talk about it.”

The girls tell you how impressed they were that Steve came to get them. They assumed when he got back from missions, the two of you would be inseparable. Honestly, they aren’t wrong but you also get your fair shared time with the others on the team. But that’s Steve, he is very big on personal space. It’s something you are very thankful for. Even though the two of you aren’t officially together it is easy to get lost in someone else and forget the world around you.

After painting, you move into the movie room. It is getting late, and you all are getting fairly tired. Sitting on the couch your gaze wanders to your thighs. In your peripheral you see the thin outline of your own friend’s thighs and notice how drastic the change is. You pretend not to notice the difference in body types between you and your friends.

Suddenly all insecurities from college and high school come flooding back. The fact that you were admiring your own body in the mirror just hours ago escapes you. Any feeling of accomplishment from your workouts, training, missions no longer exists. Not next to Christi and Abby.

You know it’s not their fault, and you’re not bitter toward them whatsoever. Christi eats a lot of junk but just so happens to be gifted with the perfect metabolism gene. Abby just does her own thing, no workouts and no dieting, but it works for her. You have always had more fat to you. Before becoming an Avenger, home workouts never did a thing and changing your diet did nothing as well. Since being here you have lost 20 lbs but you are still 10 – 15 lbs heavier than your friends next to you.

Agreeing on a childhood favorite, you grab a blanket and curl up in a ball. The more coverage you provide the greater the lie you can tell yourself of what lies beneath. The girls follow suit and the three of you talk and make comments about the movie until the three of you pass out.

Only a few hours later your body atomically wake up around 7:00 am. No matter the time you fall asleep, or the quality of sleep, your body always has a habit of waking you up early in the morning. The only other person in this building that I normally awake at this time is Steve. Though, after the rest he probably needed after the mission he is most likely still in bed.

You crawl off the couch carefully trying not to wake the girls. A searing pain ripples through your right side to your leg. Biting your lip helps keep your internal scream from moving up your throat. Shimmying the rest of the way out of the room, you head towards the locker room to start training.

“What do you think you are doing?” His surprisingly stern voice echoes through the training room as soon as you enter.

“STEVE! Seriously, one day you are going to give me a heart attack.”

Ignoring Steve’s original question, you make your way to the punching bag. You feel the need to build up your strength in your left arm. Perhaps if you get your strength back up the rest of the team may be convinced to let you back on the field early.

Hearing your fist hit leather, the sounds doesn’t over power the feeling of you skin shift. My body is ultimately made up of fat! I’m not even muscle, just fat and bone! Tears sting behind your eyes as the comments of from arrogant assholes from your past echo with each punch.

She’s easier to aim for, (Y/N)’s bigger than the others!

(Y/N) is a nice friend. I know she likes me, but you look more like my type.

As each voice filters through your ears each punch against the bag gets harder and harder. The sound radiates through the training center. Completely in a trance, you don’t notice Steve’s gaze on you as he approaches closer. Right before he gets too close you realize your leg muscles need a workout as well, and you take off towards the track.

“(Y/N)!” Steve shouts but the pain in your side is all you can focus on.

Wheezing, your arm wraps around your right side in attempt to console it. The pain radiates down the side of your body toward your leg once again. With each step you start to feel like jello.

The sound of your body hitting the ground registers before the additional pain does. Dazed and confused how you got there, you feel a presence next to you. They place both their hands on each side of your face and examine for any blood. You’d swat them away if it wasn’t for the sudden want of physical touch.

“Steve, do you think you’d prefer if I was skinnier?” Sleepiness invades your senses.

“What are you talking about?”

You don’t say anything else as Steve scoops you in his arms. All you do is point to your thighs and the little pudge on your stomach. Steve says nothing as he carries you to your room. All he does is place a soft kiss to the side of your head before laying you down on your bed covers.

“Where is this coming from?” Steve inquires, but you only shrug your shoulders. The both of you know that you do. Steve doesn’t press though, which you are thankful for.

“(Y/N), you’re brilliant. If it wasn’t for Stark or Banner you would easily be the smartest person I’ve ever known.” He soothingly brushes his fingers up and down your arms, luring you to sleep. “Outstandingly stunning. Though if we must talk specifically your body?”

Steve delays by gently pulling your body onto his. Resuming the touch of his fingers against your arm, you wait for him to continue. The butterflies in your stomach ache as much as your injury pain. Assuming the worst, you’re not sure if you really want to know or not.

“I assume this trip of insecurity is due to your friends being here.” No offensiveness rises within you. You’ve told Steve about this before. “No, you’re not as thin as them. But they’re not as fit as you are. I know you hate your thighs the most, but doll trust me they are mostly hard muscle. Of which I find way more attractive than being super skinny, but unable to effectively fight.”

“I’m sorry-,” you start before Steve cuts you off with a kiss.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I get it, and I love you.” And this time you kiss him.

Tags: @mrs-captain-evans @crowleys-squirrel @princess-evans-addict

139 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Yours, Mine, and Ours

Warnings: noncon sex (oral and full-on intercourse, multiple partners). If you’ve read my work before or even just read the little blurb at the top of my blog, you know what’s up.

This is dark!Steve AND dark!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Bucky steals a pair of our panties. Steve finds said panties. Assumptions are made.

Notes: So this was an old idea reinvigorated by a discussion with several others on Discord and so we have this fucked up mess with a covetous Bucky, angry Steve, and confused reader. Hold onto your panties (like for real) because this is gonna be a wild ride.

Also, maybe reblog and or comment :) It’s your call but I would forever love you.

---

It was an in and out mission. Bucky had done it a dozen times; often with higher stakes. For all the damage Hydra had done, they had gifted him just as much. His stealth was his greatest strength and it aided him far more than any would know. No one ever heard him coming. They never saw him. Not unless he wanted them too.

And so it was that he watched Y/N stroll down the hall, her arms swinging carelessly as she hummed. She was off to see Steve as always. The two of them were nigh inseparable. At first, it had been cute. Bucky was glad to have his old friend back and his girl was just as pleasant. She was sweet; she smiled at him as if he had never been the most deadly assassin known to history. She spoke to him like he was just another member of the team. She didn’t have the same glimmer of judgement in her eyes as the rest. She was genuine; beautiful.

He had thought the first pang of jealousy was aimed at her. She was ever present when his oldest friend was near. She drew all his attention when she appeared and Bucky found himself at a loss to carry on whatever conversation had been put on hold. Then it occurred to him that it wasn’t resent for her; it was resent for not having her to himself. He was stunned as he stared at Steve and the gears whirred within him. He felt something he had never expected to for his old comrade; loathing.

Upon his first intrusion, he hadn’t meant to take anything. He hadn’t even meant to venture into her room. He had merely been walking by and found himself backpedaling to stand before her door. He stared at it, tilted his head, and tapped his toe. He was on his way to meet with Steve for their latest mission. She was no doubt saying her goodbye. He wondered what she was like; truly. One could tell a lot from another’s living quarters.

He knocked first. Out of courtesy, out of caution. Not very considerate given his intent. With no answer, he was assured of its vacancy and he tried the handle. If it was locked, he’d carry on his way. It wasn’t. Too trusting, he mused. She was the type, wasn’t she? To be so entirely naive. He looked down the hall before ducking inside.

The door clicked behind him and he looked around slowly. Frilly pink pillowcases, a flowered duvet, a fuzzy rug before a velvet armchair. It was cozy; warm. As he imagined her to be. He paced carefully around the room and slid open the closet door. Her blouses hung in a rainbow, pressed pants and skirts folded over hangers. A rack of shoes just beneath; a pair for each day of the week and more. She was meticulous.

He closed the closet and neared the bed. He sat daintily and took a pillow in his hands. He admired the rosy cotton and pulled a stray hair from it. He examined it in the sunlight which streamed in from the window. He let it fall to the floor and buried his nose in the pillow. It smelled of her. Steve, too. They had been here the night before, he could tell.

His cock twitched as he replaced the pillow and fell onto his back; the mattress buckled beneath him. He spread his arms out and slowly brushed them over the duvet. As his hands settled beside his thighs, he closed his eyes and imagined her between his legs. Climbing up to straddle him; the bed groaning beneath them as she rode him. The same way he knew she fucked Steve.

He sat up as his cock throbbed. He was tempted to rub one out right there onto one of her pretty pillows. He resisted the urge and stood. He glanced around and zeroed in on the small white dresser on the other side of the bed. He neared and eased open the top drawer. He was surprised at the mess within. Lace, silk, satin, and cotton were tossed inside lazily.

He reached in and stirred around, his hand settling on something hard. He lifted the small cylinder and clicked the button at its base. It vibrated noisily against his vibranium hand. He chuckled and turned it off. Did she use this herself or did Steve use it on her? Bucky didn’t need that shit. He twirled the toy in his hand and examined it with a smirk. He brought it to his lips and dragged his tongue along the smooth silicon. He held it up and watched his saliva dry across it. He replaced it amid the sea of panties.

He took a pair of plain white cottons from the bunch. He thought of her wearing them. A farce of innocence across her pussy. He folded them around his nose and mouth and inhaled. They smelled of floral detergent. Still it sent a thrill through him. He dropped them back in the drawer and shut it with a snap.

His eyes fell to the tall round hamper at the other side of the dresser. He stepped closer and peered into its depths. He bent as he dug past the wrinkled blouses and bunched up socks. He lifted a purple thong from within and held them up like a prize. He stretched them out between two hands and nuzzled the crotch, his breath hitched as he caught her scent. It was more than just sweat. He pulled them away and examined the faint streak along the fabric. He sniffed them once more before tucking them into his pocket.

That was the first pair he had stolen, but not the last. This would be the tenth if his count was correct. He was only a few feet from her door. She had just left with Steve for a coffee date. Something about their first date or some shit. Bucky didn’t listen too much anymore. It was too cute. Sickeningly so. He had at least ninety minutes to himself.

He locked the door behind him and opened a window. A backup plan. The brief jostle of the handle would give him fair warning and he had already scaled once to the neighbouring room. He only hoped that Bruce wasn’t within; most days he was in the lab anyhow. He began his usual routine. He walked the parameter of the room then into the bathroom. He rifled through a few of her toiletries but never took anything from there.

He returned to the bedroom but found his patience wearing. He had been awake for most of the night. Rock hard. He had cum at least five times before he fell asleep. Even so, he woke up throbbing. It was starting again. His cock pressed against his jeans uncomfortably. He hadn’t worn any underwear that day; he was exhausted, lazy, and had planned on a few hours of jerking off. That was until he had gone to grab his morning coffee and found Y/N waiting in a little denim skirt and bright red top. It was good fodder for what he had planned but her departure had slightly changed his plans.

He went to the dresser and pulled open the drawer as he always did. A pair of polka-dot panties caught his eye. He took them and stretched the elastic with a growl. He fell onto the bed and sighed. He had grown comfortable in her space. It was his too, now. He felt the soft fabric and rested the panties across his chest. He reached down and undid his fly, pulling himself through the open vee. He stroked his pulsing cock and groaned.

Precum leaked from his head and spread down his shaft as he played with himself. He took the panties and felt the lacy trim. His heart fluttered at the sudden idea. He turned the panties inside out and pressed two fingers to the crotch. He lowered them and rested the crotch on the head of his cock. He closed his fist around the fabric and stroked until he felt the fabric dampen. He pulled them away, his precum slick and shiny across the cotton.

He clutched them in his fist as he continued to stroke himself. His head sank between the pillows and he imagined her on top of him. It was his favourite fantasy; well aside from him on top of her. That really got to him. Having her bent over and at his mercy. He gasped and warmth spurted down his knuckles, squelching along his shaft as he eased himself to a stop.

He left her panties on the bed as he went to clean himself in the bathroom. He had showered in there once. He used her lavender shampoo and Steve had commented on the smell of flowers. Bucky shrugged but inside he had been laughing. He finished wiping away his cum and zipped up his jeans. His cock was sensitive against the denim. He washed his hands and went back to the bedroom.

He took her panties; now dry and seemingly untouched. He tucked them back in her dresser and a rush of giddiness went through him. He could imagine her now, walking around in his juices and not even knowing it. Steve touching her beneath those very panties; her cum mixing with his arousal. He sighed and looked around to make sure all was in order.

Content, he let himself out, only realizing he had not taken a pair for himself as he returned to his own room. It was fine. He had more than enough in his own dresser.

It was days like these that made Steve doubt his duty. It never got easier being away from Y/N. Even if his missions were for the good of others, he found himself growing ever more homesick with each one. He knew he shouldn’t be so clingy but after all this time, he had found the one thing he’d never thought he’d have again. She was everything he had dreamed of and more. She loved him, she loved his friends, and supported his work.

But he was tired. He just wanted to take her and find their white picket fence. He couldn’t stop though. He knew it as well as she did. It would be selfish. There were still those out there who needed his help. And his team needed him too.

Bucky, most of all. The former Howling Commando and Winter Soldier was still gaining his bearings in this new world. Steve knew the feeling better than any. And he was glad to have his old friend back. He wasn’t going to throw him away so easily and he knew Bucky had no one else but him. If he left, Bucky would have nothing.

Maybe he wanted too much. He was with his best friend doing what he did best. Helping others. Their missions together were a little less stressful than others. The two old friends would commiserate between the fights and damage control. This one was a little less dramatic. Observation. The two of them would be in a safe house, just next door to an arms factory. The cameras had been hacked but they were more concerned with the coming and going of men and women in suits.

Two days in and they were taking turns on watch. Bucky had just returned with some shawarma from a nearby food truck; their meals only came at night when they could sneak in and out. They ate in silence, but not a tense one. Steve had taken the night before so it was Bucky’s turn to watch the dead factory. There wasn’t much sleep to be had in the thin sleeping bags spread across the hard floor. Even so, Steve suspected he’d get at least a few hours out of sheer exhaustion. And maybe he’d text Y/N before he closed his eyes.

“Well,” Steve crumpled up his wrapper. “Your turn.”

“Ugh, I know,” Bucky grumbled, “Shit, why are we wasting our time? Can’t Stark just send in the army?”

“Due diligence,” Steve stretched his arms as he stood. “Lot of red tape behind all the action.”

“Say what you will about Hydra but they didn’t drag their asses,” Bucky grumbled as Steve patted his shoulder. “Go on then. Get some sleep.” He yawned between words, “I’ll manage.”

“Night, Buck,” Steve turned and ducked into the next room.

He kicked back the top of the sleeping bag and lowered himself as he pulled out his phone. He hadn’t even unlocked it when his eyes were drawn to an unusual sight. A slat of moonlight leaked in through the boarded up window and shone on Bucky’s half open duffle. Steve tilted his head, sure his tired eyes and the dark were playing tricks on him. Even if it was what he thought, he shouldn’t pry...but the colour was so familiar.

Steve glanced at the doorway. He heard Bucky’s wrapper as it was crushed and tossed away. He held his breath as he got to his knees and carefully crawled across the floor. He lit up his phone screen and hovered it over the open zipper. He frowned. Slowly, he reached inside and lifted the red boy shorts to eye level. The small white star on the front glared back at Steve and he dropped the satin in shock.

He gulped as Bucky’s boot tapped on the floor from the other room. He frantically tucked the panties back into the duffel and hurried back to his sleeping bag. The wood creaked as the doorway filled with his friend’s dark figure and he entered quietly. “Sorry, just gonna make some coffee so I don’t bother you later.”

“Yeah, uh, no problem,” Steve’s hand shook as he held his phone to his chest. He was thankful to be hidden by the darkness.

Bucky moved around carefully in the din and Steve gritted his teeth. His heart was hammering. Even as he thought of the bright red panties, he didn’t feel any anger for the man clinking around with the percolator only feet away. He was filled with rage at the woman he had convinced himself was the one. Heartbroken that he had imagined his life with her so entirely. He had been such a fool.

He thought of her now. The way she smiled at Bucky; her innate warmth towards him. He had merely thought it was the way she was with everyone. She had always been so friendly; so kind and he had reasoned that she only extended the same towards his best friend. For his sake, at least. Steve watched Bucky’s broad shoulders as the tin began to quake over the plug-in burner.

Had she given them to him? Or had he accidentally packed the forgotten underwear? Should he say something? No, this wasn’t between him and Bucky. It was between him and Y/N. She had betrayed him. After three years, she had tossed it all away. How long had she been carrying on behind his back? The two of them?

The smell of coffee filled the air and Bucky filled a metal mug. He stood and whispered a good night as he blew on the steaming brew. The moment he was through the door, Steve could breathe again. He shoved his phone away from him and turned onto his side. He crossed his arms as he steamed.

All he could see when he closed his eyes were those panties. Her wearing them as she kissed his best friend. Sliding them down her thighs so she could fuck him. Fuck another man. Steve had never been so mad in his life. To be deceived so blatantly to his face. When he got back, he would see how innocent she truly was.

You were worried. It was so unlike Steve not to text. Of course, there were missions where he was on radio silence protocol but he had gone so far as to inform Sam of his impending return. You had heard it from another that your boyfriend and quite possibly the love of your life was on his way back from an entire week away. Safe and sound. That was why you preferred the little messages. To assure you that he was alive and well.

You waited impatiently in the lounge. You had a special night planned. A nice welcome back. Relaxing. You would light some candles and break out the flavoured massage oil you had bought just days ago. You were already wearing the lacy pink bra and panties you had purchased as another surprise. They were hidden beneath your pale blue blouse and grey skirt. No one would guess what you had in store for America’s ass.

When he walked in, Steve looked miserable. You had rarely seen him in such a state. You stood as Bucky entered behind him, the two oddly silent. You smiled at both of them but only Bucky returned the gesture. Something was wrong.

“Steve, you’re back,” You greeted in a bubbly voice, “How was your mission?”

“It was a mission,” He said grimly. His jaw was square, his blue eyes evasive. “Long.”

“Jeez, what happened?” You looked to Bucky who shook his head in confusion.

“Basic reconnaissance,” Bucky shrugged, “But not much sleep.”

“Oh,” You looked back to Steve. Usually he’d be all over you; hugging you, kissing you, but he seemed so distant. “Well, you’re back now and you can get all caught up.”

Steve’s eyes finally met yours and slowly moved to Bucky. He didn’t say a word.

“I think I’ll go get a head start on that sleep,” Bucky raised his brows as he adjusted his duffel on his shoulder. “You guys have a, uh, good night.”

You echoed his good night and watched him go. You turned back to Steve with concern and reached out to him but he drew away. You reeled as if he had smacked you. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

“You don’t know?” He challenged as he crossed his arms.

“No, you haven’t even texted me, I…” You blinked in confusion, “Please, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Let’s talk then,” He growled, “My room. Now.”

The air caught in your chest at his tone. He had never spoken to you in such a way. Had never been so visibly angry. All you could do was stutter your ascent and precede him into the hall. His footsteps echoed yours darkly; heavy, determined. You felt as if you had done something wrong and yet you could think of nothing. Even so, if you had committed some offence, he never reacted so aggressively.

As you came up to his door, he reached past you and twisted the handle. He pushed it open and shoved you inside, almost taking you off your feet. You stumbled in and spun back to him as he slammed the door. You were actually terrified. Never had you felt any fear towards him. Never anything but safe and loved.

“You think it’s funny?” He barked, “Playing around and making me your clown?”

“W-what?” You sputtered.

“I found them, Y/N,” He snarled, “I remember you told me you got them because they made you think of me. Well, him too, I suppose.”

“What are you talking about?” You were entirely confounded. “Who?”

“Don’t try to act innocent, you little slut,” He snapped, “He was carrying them around in his bag. Like a little trophy.”

“I--” You reached up to touch your forehead, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bucky! I know you’re fucking him.” He hissed, “I should’ve figured it out earlier, but I guess it takes a bright red flag waving in my face to realize.”

“I’m not--you’re serious?” You scoffed. “Steve.”

“Don’t ‘Steve’ me,” He stepped close, lording over you. “You’re going to tell me how long you’ve been fucking him.”

“I haven’t--”

“The truth!” He shouted and grabbed you by the back of your neck. “We’re not leaving this room until you tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” You squealed as he turned you and forced you towards the bed. “Steve, you’re hurting me.”

“Not as much as you’ve hurt me,” He shoved you towards the bed and you fell onto the mattress with a thump. “But I can try.”

You tried to get up but were pushed back down. Steve’s hand was on your back as your arms were caught beneath you and he straddled your ass. He put all his weight on you as he tore your arms out from under your body. He reached beneath and hooked his fingers between the buttons of your blouse. He ripped it open and forced your arms back painfully as he untangled it from them.

“Steve, get off of me,” You reached out as he freed your arms and clawed at the blankets.

“Tell me how long,” He demanded as his hand closed around the back of your bra.

“I didn’t...Steve, I swear,” The tears flooded your eyes as the fear burned the back of your throat. “You’re scaring me.”

He pushed down your head with his other hand so that your face was smothered in the duvet. He leaned over you and growled in your ear. “Unless you’re going to start telling me the truth, you better shut your fucking mouth.”

He leaned back and released your head roughly. You gasped as you lifted your head to catch your breath. He snapped the band of your bra in one swipe.

“Did you buy this for me or him?” He broke the straps one at a time. “You think you’re funny walking around in this. Like the slut you are.”

You were in shock. Your head fell against the bed and you closed your eyes as you trembled beneath him. He slid back, the zipper on your skirt busted as he tore it open. The skirt slackened and he slowly removed himself as he shoved it down your legs. Your heels were tossed away in kind and you sensed him closing in.

You lifted yourself up on your hands and knees and crawled towards the other side of the bed. He caught your ankles and dragged you back until you slipped back to your stomach. He pressed himself to you, his body weighed you down as he laid flush on top of you. He pushed his head next to yours.

“How long?” You shook your head and whimpered. His hand went to your throat and closed around your neck. “How long, slut?”

“Please don’t call me that,” You begged.

He laughed darkly and tightened his grip on your neck. He lifted his pelvis as he felt around with his other hand. You heard a zipper and felt fabric against the bottom of your ass. He stroked his cock as he freed it from his pants and you weakly grabbed at the covers. His fingers poked under the lace of your panties and shoved the crotch aside. The head of his cock prodded at your entrance.

“How long?” He asked again.

“Never,” You vowed, “I’d never--”

He slammed into you in one swift motion. You yiped and your nails sank into the duvet. His hand squeezed tighter around your neck and your yelp died in the air. He thrust into you sharply. Your entire body shook with the bed below. He pulled back his pelvis and worked into you in deliberate jabs. It hurt. The tears wobbled at the corner of your eyes and fell down your cheeks.

“How long?” He growled and loosened his fingers enough for you to talk.

“I didn’t--” His hand went tighter and your voice was cut off once more.

This pattern continued with each violent thrust. Every time he asked, your denial was shuttered by his grip at your throat. No answer was enough and only seemed to anger him further. Your pussy was sore. Your head pounded from the lack of air.

“Tell” *thrust* “Me” *thrust* “How” *thrust* “Long!”

He released your neck and you coughed. You shook your head and denied his accusation once more. He snarled and pulled out of you. He stood and smacked your ass. His handprint stung and he repeated the strike. You screamed and tried to wriggle away. He placed his knee on your back, one foot on the floor, and kept you in place and spanked your ass raw. Your lace panties scratched your tender flesh.

“Tell me!” He pulled away and you reached back to touch your flaming ass. You sniffed away your tears and said nothing. “Fine.”

He grabbed your arm and forced you up to your feet. You struggled but found yourself easily overpowered. His hand was in a death grip around your upper arm as he dragged you to the door. He swung it open and you slapped at his shoulder. “Stop it, Steve.”

He ignored you easily. His fly was still undone, the top of his pelvis exposed as his cock bulged against the inside of his pants. The fabric around his zipper was visibly wet. You covered your chest as best you could and prayed no one else stumbled upon the scene. You struggled to keep up with his long strides and he finally stopped before a door. He knocked but didn’t wait for an answer.

He opened the door and pushed you inside. This time you fell to your knees. Again the door slammed and you looked up as Bucky appeared in a doorway to your left. His hair was damp and he was only covered by a towel around his waist. You glanced away meekly.

“Go on and show me what a slut you are,” Steve nudged you with his toe.

“Steve,” Bucky sounded as confused as you felt. “What’s going on?”

“I know you’ve been fucking,” He snapped, “I found her panties in your bag.”

“You did?” Bucky replied. He sounded less surprised now. “Well...I guess I couldn’t keep it a secret forever.”

“What?” You raised your head, “Tell him, Bucky, we never--”

“I’m sorry, Steve, I really am,” He ignored your pleas. “I wanted to tell you but…”

“You’re going to show me.” Steve interjected. “Both of you. What you’ve been doing behind my back.”

“Whatever you want, Steve,” Bucky’s hands went to the waist of his towel.

“Go,” Steve ordered, “Take your panties off and be the slut you are.”

You shook your head as Bucky dropped his towel. You lowered your eyes away from his cock. He was growing hard already. He neared and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come on. He’s not going to stop.” You stared up at him as your head spun.

“Why are you doing this? Tell him--”

“Now!” Steve shouted. “Or I’ll hold you down myself while he fucks you.”

Bucky grabbed your elbow and helped you stand. There was no point in trying to cover yourself anymore. You lowered your arms and let him lead you to the bed. He turned you and pulled your panties down your legs as you tried to numb yourself. You looked over at Steve who scowled back. You couldn’t. You closed your eyes and surrendered.

He pushed you back so that you sat on the edge of the bed. He guided you further up and pressed your legs apart. The bed shifted as he climbed up between your thighs. Cold metal fingers traced the lines of your pelvis and framed your pussy.

“I’ve been dreaming of this,” He whispered and your eyes shot open. He was so quiet only you heard him.

He smiled as he flicked his finger over your clit. Your pelvis spasmed and he added another finger. He drew circles around it and pushed his thighs against yours. He removed his hand to pull your legs over his and lined himself up with your entrance. His metal fingers were back at your bud as he impaled you slowly. He sighed as you trembled against him.

“Fuck her hard,” Steve was closer. His arms were crossed over his chest as he stood at the end of the bed.

Bucky smirked and pressed his thumb to your clit as he followed Steve’s direction. His thrusts were eager, rough. His flesh clapped against yours and your thighs and pussy stung. The reverberation of Steve’s spanking adding to the agony. A swirl of pain and delight ran along your flesh. Electricity buzzed through you, blooming in your core, and burst in a sudden flood of nerves. You bit your lip as you gritted out your orgasm. You covered your face in shame as your back arched for more.

Your hand was pulled away from your face and your wrists were pinned to the mattress above you. Steve held your arms together with one hand as the other bared his cock above his fly. Bucky continued to fuck you, both hands on your hips as he only grew more ravenous.

Steve stroked himself as he pressed his cock to your lips and you kept your mouth closed. “Open up. Now.” His voice was dangerous.

You shakily parted your lips and he forced his way inside. He slid down your throat and you gagged. He met Bucky’s pace in an instant, allowing you no time to adjust. His hand went around your neck once more. His thumb caressed the lump of his cock as it bulged in your throat.

“Swallow.” He commanded as he pushed himself deep and his cum filled your throat. It bubbled around his cock and you struggled to keep from retching as you obeyed. You gulped and he removed himself from your mouth. He dragged the head of his cock down your face and smeared the mix of cum and saliva across your skin.

He backed away from the bed and replaced his glistening cock in his pants. He rounded the bed as you shook with raspy breaths. “Get her up.” Steve demanded. “Bend her over the chair.”

Bucky moved without answering. He pulled you up by your hands and led you to the armchair at the other end of the room. He guided you to bend over the arm of the chair. You braced it as your legs shook dangerously beneath you. Bucky entered you from behind and groaned as Steve came up beside you.

“Fuck. I always wanted to do this.” He purred.

Steve tilted his head and looked to his friend. His blue eyes lingered and slowly he backed away. “Keep fucking her. Don’t cum in her.” You listened to Steve’s footsteps as he paced the room.

You squeaked as you felt another orgasm rising. Bucky spread your ass and plunged deeper and deeper. “You’re so fucking sexy.�� He said.

“Shut up,” Steve warned. “Both of you.”

You heard a series of click, the movement of little objects being lifted and placed back down. A drawer slid open followed by the rustle of fabric. And paper. Stiff cardstock by the sounds of it. Photos maybe. Silence but for the sound of your pussy as it clung to Bucky’s cock. You held your breath as the ripple overwhelmed you. An orgasm trapped in shuddering pants.

“Bucky, stop.” Steve said abruptly. “Bucky.”

Bucky pulled out and grunted. He hissed as warmth spilled down your thigh. You slumped over the arm of the chair as you heard Steve approach and Bucky turned away from you. You buried your head against the cushion.

“She never fucked you, did she?” Steve’s voice was low; stunned. “You’ve been…”

“Admiring her. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Bucky replied airily. “Couldn’t help myself. You should teach her to lock her door.”

You legs gave out and you slipped off the chair and into a puddle on the floor. You kept your head to the carpet as your body burned in humiliation. So weak you could not have moved if you tried.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Steve asked.

“We share everything, don’t we?” Bucky answered nonchalantly.

“I…” Steve paused and you sensed him as he neared. He knelt over you and turned you on to your back. He cradled your face as you opened your eyes. He squinted and slowly a smirk spread across his face. “I guess we do.”

tags: @chaotic-buck @queenie4ce @rubberbucky @wonderthor @msdmc1 @meaganottiz02 @brigidwolf @patzammit @thepettyavenger @biasedtittes @thosecikinnn @sathlens @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @lattaex @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @ironlady1993 @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @shikin83 @collette04 @thirstyforsomeyandere @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @asleep-amid-the-flowers @sunstarskyhappiness @xxxelettaxxx @honeyofthegods @rainbowkisses31 @alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @couldntbedamned @scarletlingeries @directionerfae @bodhi-black @kyllorren @captainarp @sargeant-bbarnes @tuyetnhivo @heartislubbingdubbing @kiwihoee @vanishingod @aekr @purpliepanda @infernalbarnes @lazinessisalliknow @grossceleste @fkngparadise @karabear0091 @jordysgirl87 @amelia-acero @praziameia @steadypetty @shayrey @spn-marvel-nerd @kissedbythedarkness @fandomkolors @biba3434 @brokensunflowersworld @marvel-fan23 @hannahxem @noteyebox @titty-teetee @irritatinglilliputian @educationalandphysicalmess @tuyetnhivo @thosecikinnn @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @crownofrowan @couldntbedamned @hardygal69 @hannahxem @imkloeyjarvis @hana-song137 @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @destiel-is--endgame @calspixie @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-dark-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @supernaturalonice @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @holylulusworld @yagurlrosie @heartislubbingdubbing @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @spaghettirogers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes @marvelmaree @they-call-me-le @wintersoldier1017 @supernaturaldean67 @basementcafe @periodtcevans

#dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #au #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #darkverse #dark!verse

3K notes · View notes

unadulteratedfandomtrash · 4 years

Text

Loki Laufeyson x Reader ~ Rest Assured [Pt. 10]

[My Marvel Masterlist] [Previous Part]

A/N: Sooooo.... Plans have changed and now there will be more than ten chapters because this segment ended up being much longer than anticipated. I’m sorry it took this long for me to write and post this chapter!

Also, the time difference between now and the previous chapter is mentioned in the dialogue, but for those of you who want to know before reading this, it has been two Midgardian years.

Word Count: 2359

“Well, that should conclude today’s session. Have you experienced any negative reactions or symptoms since my last visit two nights ago? Lightheadedness? Headaches?”

“No, she has not,” Loki answers from the threshold of the room, stepping in with a sly smirk on his face, “and, as my wife, she would be wise to inform me if otherwise, right, darling?”

“Spying on us again?” An amused smirk stretches across (Y/n)’s lips. She gestures for her husband to take a seat beside her on the bed, her head immediately resting upon his shoulder. “You both know as well as I do that I have been feeling just fine, so quit worrying so much over nothing. All that fretting will turn you two into wrinkly old fellows before I even get a chance to become a mother.”

A pregnant silence leaves the God of Mischief and Sorcerer Supreme staring awkwardly at a random corner of the room. Their constant badgering comes with good intentions, but (Y/n)’s teasing brings up the fact that maybe, just maybe, they truly are worrying over non-existent health issues that she has long since overcome.

“Now, if you two don’t mind, I would like to rest.”

With a quick nod of acknowledgement, Stephen bids the two Asgardians a good night before exiting, the door automatically closing behind him thanks to JARVIS. Loki and (Y/n) remain unmoving in the darkness of their shared chambers, both unsure of their next move.

Deciding to break the silence, Loki clears his throat softly while glancing over at his wife. “You wish to conceive children in the future?”

“Of course,” (Y/n) answers quickly, though her voice can barely be heard. “Why would you ask such a thing? Of course I wish to have children with you, though I have no demands on when it will happen. Is it not something you wish for, my love?”

“I have done nothing to prove myself worthy to potentially be a parent. If anything, my actions discredit me.”

“Oh, Loki, you have done no such thing.”

“What are you tal-”

“Let me finish,” she states, cupping Loki’s face; her firm grip pulls the black-haired god closer until there is no longer an empty gap between them. Pressing a chaste kiss to her husband’s lips, (Y/n) ensures his eyes meet her own as she explains, “I understand and am fully aware that several…previous events…have broken both legal and moral codes, but you’ve moved on from that. So long as you learn from those mistakes and never repeat them, that alone proves your worth.”

“Be that as it may, there are many others from numerous realms who will disagree with such a statement.”

“Who says you have to listen to them?” (Y/n) has a point. Listening to others has never been Loki’s favorite thing to do, so why should he bother to stop now? Plus, he can never win an argument against his perceptive wife— (Y/n) knows best. “Ignore those who only express their hatred towards our lives; they do not deserve a second of our attention.”

Birds chirp happily as they glide throughout the morning sky, providing a serene view as (Y/n) gazes out the window from her seat on the couch, the book in her hands long forgotten as her mind wanders.

“Good afternoon, (Y/n),” Thor greets as he strides into the room. Despite the large smile on his face, the dark circles convey his weariness from having just returned from a mission with his fellow heroes. “I was informed you wish to speak to me as soon as possible.”

The God of Thunder’s entrance startles her from her thoughts. She closes her novel, setting it aside with the intention to continue reading later on, and stands to greet her brother-in-law, who pulls her into a tight hug. Her arms remain wrapped around Thor for a moment longer than anticipated, prompting to him question the reason he was summoned.

“Yes, but first, I must ask: How are you, Thor? You must be exhausted between all the assignments with your team and your continuous travels to and from Asgard. Surely you can ask for Heimdall to pass on messages instead of running back and forth between two worlds, or request for one of his messengers to assist you?”

“Though the many journeys have left me weary, it is my responsibility to inform the AllFather of Loki’s progress here on Midgard. I do not wish to burden Heimdall. He has many duties as it is. Now, what is it you wish to discuss, (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) returns to her seat on the couch, resting her hands in her lap as they fiddle around anxiously. Patting the cushion next to her, she gestures for Thor to sit beside her. The large blond does as he is asked, a worried frown taking over the cheerful grin on his face once he notices the young woman’s nervousness.

“It has been nearly two Midgardian years since my departure from Asgard…and though I do not wish to pressure Loki into agreeing unless the decision comes from his heart, I have given this decision a lot of thought: if and when the time is right, I wish to have a child with your brother.”

“That is wonderful, (Y/n)!”

“Yes, however, Loki's opinion on the matter differs drastically. Your brother believes his attack on Midgard, along with his upbringing and bloodline, dictates the future of his child, should he decide to have one.”

“I do not understand…” Upon noticing Thor’s blank, lost expression, (Y/n) shuffles to sit closer to her confused brother-in-law. For several seconds, the young woman remains silent to gather her thoughts in order to clarify the situation.

“Thor… Loki is afraid. His hands are stained with blood and betrayal, his biological father was a manipulative, cruel individual who only ever brought death and despair to those near and far, and numerous realms do not take kindly to his existence,” she cautiously explains in a hushed whisper, afraid to catch the attention of any unwanted listeners. “Your brother believes he is unfit to father offspring, and I am quite sure you are aware of his hatred towards his heritage. He still struggles to accept himself; he sees himself as a monster.

“As the child grows older, they will bear the responsibilities of being Asgardian royalty, which is a formidable expectation alone, but Loki’s past will follow our family even after our passing; it is a part of our history. Asgardians are warriors. We often yearn for the thrilling rush of being on the battlefield. If they were to learn of Loki’s current situation, that alone would rile the citizens enough to start a war between the people and sovereign family. Loki’s child will only receive hatred just as he does.”

“Father has a plan,” Thor interrupts (Y/n)’s explanation. He understands his brother’s fears, and with the help of the Allfather, steps have already been taken to ease the citizens of Asgard into the idea of Loki’s return to the realm. “We had discussed this long before Loki was permitted to return to Midgard with you. The Allfather plans to slowly convince the people of Brother’s improvements. With you by his side, I am sure we will be able to persuade them in no time!”

“Stark, I require your assistance on a matter of great importance!” Thor storms into Tony’s lab with only his thunderous footsteps and booming voice providing the latter any hint of the Asgardian’s arrival. The sudden announcement piques Tony’s curiosity, but without any context, he remains silent to allow Thor to continue his train of thought. “(Y/n) approached me with her concerns over a personal issue she wished to discuss, but given that you claim yourself to be a genius, I shall ask for your assistance.”

An eyebrow raises at the mentioning of (Y/n). Since Thor mentioned her issue being personal, Tony is confused as to why he is being so open about the matter; if it were him, he would not want his brother-in-law going to someone else to talk about a private problem, but maybe this is different.

“Okaaayy…I need context here, buddy. What sort of godly problems call for my help?”

“Loki requires assistance in bearing a child wi-”

“SAY WHAT,” Tony shouts suddenly, hands dropping the tools that were once hovering cautiously over a new prototype gauntlet. Said prototype discharges without warning thanks to a soldering iron coincidentally falling onto the operating panel.

From across the room, Bruce is quick to duck beneath a nearby desk as debris rains down from the hole in the ceiling that Tony has now created, shooting a pointed look at his colleague once the dust settles.

“My bad,” he apologizes with a sheepish grin. “But in my defense, Point Break shouldn’t have sprung that sort of information on me without any warning. I really didn’t need to know that Reindeer Games and his wife are trying to make more trickster gods. In my tower at that.”

“That is where you are wrong,” interjects Thor, “My brother fears his late attack on your planet, amongst many other issues, will affect his ability to produce children. I understand you possess plenty of experience with women, especially with your lover, so I would greatly appreciate it if you could lend your expertise to Loki.”

The God of Thunder’s statement leaves Tony sputtering out his coffee mid-sip, staring at the man in question in absolute disbelief.

“Excuse me?! What did you just say? Please tell me that I did not hear what I think I just heard. JARVIS, am I going crazy?”

“Well, according to an analytic scan I performed the other day, your br-”

“Y- Don’t actually answer that. I was being rhetorical.” Hunching over the table with his temple resting on three fingers, the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist loudly exhales as he takes his time to take in the words Thor had just spoken.

He truly does want to help the blond god, but the topic is neither his or Thor’s business to be sticking their noses into. Everything should stay between the two gods concerned with matter. Tony is pretty sure that if he were to approach either of the two to talk about it, they would turn him away.

“Okay. I’ll humor you for a bit, blondie. Why should I help you? Correction: Why should I help Loki? Even though he’s staying in my tower, that doesn’t mean I actually like him.”

“As you already know, (Y/n) belongs on Asgard. Though she is content with staying on Midgard, so long as Loki is by her side, her heart longs to reside in the realm she was born to live on, and the Allfather is well aware of this. He allowed for (Y/n) to follow us to Midgard in hopes that Loki will yield to his lengthy sentence.

“Those two are heirs to the throne. Without them, Father has nobody to succeed him when the time comes, as I do not wish to rule Asgard as its king. Loki and (Y/n) are expected to birth an heir in order to secure the fate of Asgard, should tragedy befall on either of them.”

“Wait, why don’t you want to be a king? I would love to be born into the royal family of gods from another planet.”

“Being a ruler is a heavy burden I am unequipped to bear. My brother, alongside (Y/n), is far wiser than I will ever be. He may not act like it at times, but Loki is the perfect candidate for King. I am far happier with my role as the protector of my realm, not its ruler.”

“But a king has to protect too, ya’’ know,” Tony points out. “But that’s beside the point. We’re getting off topic! So, what’s the point of me talking to your brother?”

“My father has informed me that Asgard shall soon accept Loki with open arms. If the two were to become parents, the Allfather may permit an early return. I understand that you wish for my brother to vacate your tower, and I only wish for him to live in contentment, so by helping Loki, we shall all benefit.”

A pregnant silence fills the room as Tony mulls over the proposition. A hand strays from his side to his beard, absentmindedly playing with the strands that come in contact with his fingertips.

No words can describe how much he yearns for Loki’s departure from Earth, he must consider his options. On one hand, if he does help the blond god with his family issues, Loki will no longer bother the Avengers, life in the tower will be peaceful, and everyone gets to live a happy life. However, on the other hand, Tony is willing to bet his entire fortune that the God of Mischief’s reaction to the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist’s interference with his personal matters will be anything but positive. Since the start of his sentence on Earth, Loki has been irritating towards every person who has stepped foot in the tower, yet he has never crossed any lines. If Tony provides his input, he fears more than just lines will be crossed.

He prepares to say no, to turn his back on the situation and let it pass without another thought, but movement outside the laboratory captures his attention. Beyond the frosted glass, the wealthy hero watches as the blurry figure of Doctor Strange puts a hand to (Y/n)’s head; she must have gone to him with concerns regarding her health, since Stephen has been studying Asgardian anatomy and physiology within the adjacent lab in order to treat the female Asgardian during her stay on Earth. Despite the strong urge to turn his back on Loki, Tony cannot find it in his heart to do the same with (Y/n). And so, with the guilt hanging over his conscience like the blade on a guillotine, a decision is made.

“Well, looks like I’ve got no other choice but yours. Lead the way, Point Break.”

[Next Part]

Tag List

@scienceofficersmith @wecantgiggleitsafandom @drstrangefictions @tvdplusriverdale @laxarnas @tarynkauai

3 notes · View notes

ashann7 · 5 years

Text

Pride & Glory - Part 9

They were Strucker’s first success story, but I - I was his pride and glory.

Series Masterlist

A soft knocking on the door woke Y/N from her sleep. She carefully untangled her limbs from Pietro’s and left the bed. A small smile formed on her face as she looked down at the sleeping man. She knew she loved him long ago, but after losing him completely, the adoration she felt was nearly overwhelming.

Another soft knock pulled her from her daze and she quickly grabbed a silk robe from her closet and made her way to the door.

Y/N quietly pulled the door open just far enough to see Wanda standing outside. A smile grew on Y/N’s face upon seeing the Scarlet Witch and she quickly opened the door further and pulled her into an embrace.

After a moment, Wanda pulled away, her face suddenly serious.

“Everyone’s awake and they’ve been talking… I’ve been trying to keep their minds from wondering, but I think it might be best if you go down and talk to them.”

Y/N’s smile faded as she nodded in agreement. “You’re right,” she began as she stepped back into her room and pressed the door closed. “I’ll be right down.”

Before Y/N could shut it completely, Wanda reached her hand out and caught the door.

Y/N raised her eyebrows and Wanda smiled once more.

“I missed you, Y/N, and I’m glad you’re back.”

The smile returned to Y/N’s face at the witch’s comment. “I missed you too, Wanda.”

With that, she pushed the door the rest of the way closed and turned to return to the bedroom.

“I missed you too, you know,” a sleepy, Sokovian voice spoke from within the room.

Y/N looked to see Pietro now awake and leaning against the headboard, his arms propped casually behind his head.

“Oh did you? I didn’t realize.” Y/N said through a smirk and sent Pietro a quick wink.

As Y/N turned to head into the bathroom, Pietro was instantly in front of her, his hand toying delicately with the silk bow holding the robe closed. “Perhaps you should come back to bed and I can show you just how much I missed you… again.”

Y/N’s smile grew and she rose up onto her tip-toes to plant a small kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “As great as that sounds, I need to get downstairs. Natasha’s missing and the team…” Y/N sighed before forcing a smile and looking up at Pietro. “The least I can give them is an explanation.”

Pietro’s shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment, but a small smile formed on his face. He removed his hand from the tempting bow and placed it, instead, on the side of her head. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed as he gently pulled her forward and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll be right there with you, princeza.”

---

The team all gathered in one of the meeting rooms within the tower. Bruce and Tony took a break from the cradle and Clint begrudgingly momentarily stopped his search for Nat.

All of the eyes in the room were quickly turned on Pietro and Y/N as they entered. The once quiet conversations that filled the space were soon replaced with silence as the team waited for Y/N to speak.

“I remember… I remember everything.”

Y/N’s eyes locked with Steve’s and he gave her a small nod, silently encouraging her to continue.

“I grew up in a small village in Prussia. My life was normal – I had loving parents, a little brother, a-“

“Sorry, I gotta ask,” Tony interrupted. “How, exactly, did you turn into a lab rat?” Steve shot Tony a stern look, but Tony simply shrugged. “Oh come on - Everyone’s wondering it.”

“It’s fine, you have a right to know.” Y/N took a deep breath before continuing. “When I was 14, an influenza virus spread through many parts of Prussia. My little brother was the first one to get sick and my mom started showing symptoms soon after. Mom begged my dad to take get me out of the village and somewhere safe.” Y/N paused, a dry chuckle leaving her. “I was so mad at her for making me leave. I didn’t understand…”

“My father took me to Sokovia where he believed I would be safe. He left me with some family friends and returned to finds blockades on the road - our village, like many others, was quarantined and he had no way of getting back to them.”

“The quarantine lasted nearly 18 months, but the second the barriers were removed my father and I were back home.” Y/N brow furrowed as the memory played in her brain.

“The house was empty. We searched for them and eventually found that my brother had died just days after we had fled. He was so little and the virus just…” Y/N shook her head to keep the tears from falling and instead continued to speak. “My mother, about two months after him. Alone.”

Despite her attempted control, Y/N’s voice broke slightly as she spoke the list word and she quickly cleared her throat in recovery and took a deep breath as she continued with her story.

“You have to understand, my dad was a good man, but what happened to them, he never stopped blaming himself. He started obsessing over different diseases and experimental vaccines and when I asked him to stop and just be my dad again, he shipped me off to boarding school. He drove himself mad trying to make amends and I guess that’s when he found Hyrda.”

Bruce’s brow was furrowed as the listened intently to Y/N’s words.

“Strucker…”

At his muttered interruption, each of the team members turned their heads in his direction, further confusion clear on their faces.

Bruce’s face lit up as he connected all of the dots in his head. “You’re Baron Strucker’s daughter…”

Y/N nodded her head, confirming his claim.

“After the tesseract found its way into his hands, my father brought me back to Sokovia and showed me his plans… I knew that he was troubled when he sent me away. I knew that he was struggling, but I had no idea what he had become – a monster.”

Y/N’s gaze connected with Steve’s, his brow deep set as he focused on her words, but his eyes still soft and encouraging.

“It didn’t matter that he was the only family I had left – I felt that I had lost him the moment he sent me off anyway. So, when I saw what he was doing – the way he was devaluing human life – I told him I was leaving and that I never wanted to see him again. But he didn’t let me go. The moment I tried to leave I was grabbed by guards and locked up. It didn’t matter that I was well cared for and kept comfortable. I was my father’s prisoner … Hydra’s prisoner. I thought it was because he feared I would expose everything they were doing, but I was wrong.”

As Y/N’s voice waivered slightly, a warm hand wrapped itself around her own and she looked up to see Pietro smiling down at her reassuringly.

“Wanda and Pietro weren’t his first test subjects,” Y/N continued. “Not even close. There were many that failed and died before them, but the two of them survived. Pietro gaining the ability to manipulate his body, and Wanda her mind.”

Y/N’s gaze fell to the floor and Pietro gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. “With two successful subjects, my father felt comfortable moving forward…”

A tear silently fell down Y/N’s cheek and she quickly reached up to wipe it away with her free hand.

“I begged him not to, but he wouldn’t listen to reason. I’ll spare you the gory details, but he combined the individual methods used on Pietro and Wanda, and he used it on me. When all was said and done, I was able to manipulate both my mind and my body. Thus, becoming Hydra’s stolz und ruhm (pride and glory),” Y/N’s voice was filled with disdain as she quoted her father in their native tongue.

“The twins were his first success story. But I” A dry laugh escaped her mouth. “I was his pride & glory and before I knew what had happened, I was one of Hydra’s favorite weapons, too.”

As she finished speaking, Clint approached her and pulled her into a hug. “Whatever you did – whatever they made you do, it doesn’t matter now. You’re one of us.” He pulled back slightly, keeping his arms firmly on her biceps.

“I mean it. I’ve seen the look on your face before and I watched that very look tear my best friend apart for entirely too long. You are not a monster; do you hear me?”

Although her lip quivered, she nodded in response.

Y/N’s attention was drawn away by the conference room door opening and she felt her heart sink as she watched the captain’s back as he left the room.

Excusing herself from the rest of the team, Y/N followed after him and found him in the hallway, not far from the doorway, leaning on the wall for support.

She cautiously took a place next to him on the wall, though neither one said, or did anything to acknowledge the other’s presence.

The door opened again causing Y/N to look up as Clint entered the hallway. He offered her another small smile before his eyes fell on Steve whose eyes were still glued to the floor and his brow knit in deep thought.

Clint’s departure to continue searching for Natasha left Tony and Bruce alone in the conference room with the twins; a situation Tony was all too happy to take advantage of.

“So let’s talk about the earthquake last night.”

Pietro’s nostrils flared and his fists clenched as Tony spoke. He had spent more than half of his life hating the man – that kind of rage doesn’t go away overnight.

Sensing her brother’s sudden mood swing, Wanda quickly spoke.

“A nightmare,” she simply offered.

Tony nodded slowly and absentmindedly stroked his goatee as he thought over her short response.

“Right… So let me know if I’m off base here, but nightmares generally consist of a bit of tossing and turning, maybe some screams,” Tony’s features feigned a sympathetic look as he turned to the other scientist, “and in extreme cases bed wetting. Right Banner?”

Bruce only rolled his eyes before Tony began to speak again. “Touchy subject, I assume.”

His attention quickly turned back to the twins, “what I’m saying is I don’t buy it. And I suggest you start offering real explanations before my bedwetting buddy here,” he jabbed a thumb in Bruce’s direction, “turns green.”

Pietro had heard enough and quickly stood face to face with the man he still held disdain for.

“You think that you can just threaten us and we will tell you everything? We are not afraid of you, Mr. Stark, nor your green friend. My sister alone proved that she could handle him, no?”

“Pietro!” Wanda scolded; quickly placing herself between the two men.

She sent her twin a warning glare before turning to face Tony. “They are nightmares – I’ve seen them. They began when Hydra started messing with her brain. That level of confusion – of terror… you couldn’t even imagine.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed momentarily before he resigned his skepticism. “Okay fine, so they’re nightmares That still doesn’t’ explain why my building turned into a shake weight.”

“She was trying to get away.’’ Pietro spat at him.

“I’m still sensing some hostility here – do I need to remind you that you’re currently under our protection?”

Pietro scoffed, “Protection?”

“Piet, enough.” Wanda commanded. “What happened last night has happened before. Not often, but enough for us to know what was happening as soon as it started.”

Wanda sighed and sat down. Her eyes met Pietro’s, silently telling him to sit as well. Reluctantly, he took a seat and the two Avengers joined them sitting opposite them at the conference table.

“If she ever said no or didn’t play the perfect soldier role, Hydra put her back in the chair and destroyed her memory - it’s how they keep their assets in line. After it happened for the first time, Pietro and I helped her find her way back. She would leave herself notes, do little tests, anything to help her make sure she remained her. When her memories were triggered, her conscious mind could handle the influx of memories. There were times when it was painful for her, but mentally, she could handle it. But when she’s unconscious, it overwhelms her.”

She turned to glance at Pietro before continuing. “Pietro is right, she is trying to escape it, but she is so fixated on the memories flooding her mind that she can’t focus on anything else.”

“The building shook because she was trying to get away,” Pietro repeated himself. “Because she could not focus on just teleporting herself, the building was going to go with her.”

Bruce leaned forward; a new level of interest clearly written on his face. “She could do that?”

Wanda quickly shrugged her shoulders. “She may be able to, but it has never gotten that far.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze to the speedster. “So how did you make it stop?”

“Pietro is the only one who’s been able to,” Wanda quickly answered.

“The tests Wanda was talking about. It is one of them. It pulls her back to me – er back to reality. It makes her feel safe.”

---

In the hallway, Steve finally broke the silence.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

She offered him a small smile, but didn’t speak. What would she say? It’s okay? No, what happened to her wasn’t okay. She did appreciate his gesture though and hoped that a smile would sufficiently show that.

“I have no right to ask. I shouldn’t and I know that, but I have to know-“

“Yes,” she answered before he could finish.

“What?”

“Yes, I met him. Yes, they controlled him the same way.”

He took a deep breath at her response. “Do you… Do you think that he’s still in there? Do you think he can find his way back?”

Y/N turned her body to face him, her eyes sad. “Steve… I don’t know. I only crossed paths with him once that I remember and he – he wasn’t a man. He was a machine.”

Steve’s face fell in disappointment and Y/N quickly put her hand on his bicep. “I don’t know if he is still in there, but when all of this is over, I will help you find him. I will do everything I can to help you get him back. I promise you, Steve.”

Pride & Glory - Part 10

Tags are Open

Pride & Glory Series Tag List

@imayormaynothaveanaddiction @mysteriouslysharkbait@wnygirl2012 @carrietoddrick @fangirl570 @lostsoldieronahill @a-girl-who-loves-disney @lordofblamo @devenmalone9 @sonarsyndor@thomaslefteyebrow @screamingintothevoidsass @littlewriter55@aebeessun @xlizabxthh @nouspouvonsvoler @darling-parker@theflash-trash @xxashy999xx @rarityshimmer @otaku-fangirlse@canisayhello @winter-widoww @kyleighsfavs @laterpineapple@uwu-sebastianstan @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mybarnesmyhero@mummy-woves-you @diansaprince @hoeposey @animegirlgeeky@technolilly @purple–nebula @andy-blur @avengersassemblee @scary-coconut @redryderdesigns

Permanent Tag List

@wrongxwriter @jack4xx @keepyourdreamsalive @vivideley

121 notes · View notes

chromium7sky · 5 years

Text

Damirae week day 1: Amnesia| You got me (crazy)

He was devastated.

It was only 1 month before his wedding with Raven but things doesn't go as they plan, his fíancee where having her ultimate showdown battle with her father, he almost lost her. Lost in time and space.

She's trapped in forgotten dimension, and thank god he has done some research to get her back with the help of other superheroes including John Constantine but....

Something went wrong. When he retrieve her back, the time and space travel were having difficulties due to the interference of her brothers who are still alive. Raven, who is now inherit her father's crown and title as Queen of the Under Realm used almost all of her power to prevent the assault but whiplash happens when the power hit the barrier of time tunnel and almost hit Damian. Raven quickly shield him by wrapping her arm around her fíance and whisper to him that she loves him.

The shock from that whiplash made them stumbled and landed at the timeline just after Damian departure to fetch Raven from the ruin of Azarath.

The rest of the heroes who just watch him departure now puzzling as he comeback like it was a short distance walk journey. As Damian regain his senses, he quickly ask for medical team to take care of Raven who are now limping in his arm as she was heavily injured by the blow of her own power.

"I know Raven could heal herself in a miracle way but this damage on her head causing concussion, perhaps it may lead to memory loss. Let us hope that it wasn't a big blow. " said Cyborg as he analyze the Mistress of Magic at the sick bay.

Damian Wayne who is now disgruntled with a twist felt in his stomach by the memory of seeing Raven being hit by the whiplash played over and over inside his head although they already in their safe haven. When Cyborg said hoping it wasn't a big blow, he mentally frown. It is a BIG one.

Its been three days she's in coma, he patiently waited by her side though, sometimes Bruce and his other Bat fam come and asked Damian to come home to get some rest and filling his stomach with some food. As he watch his fíanceè who is now unconcious on a clean white bed with bottle of IV punctured in her arms and the beeping sound of pulse monitor counting her pulse rate as well as her blood pressure, the sight itself has killed his appetite somehow, there is a long sofa nearby, so he decided to rest his tired shamrock eyes with a power nap.

Damian drifted to sleep eventually, Dick silently put a wooly nightwing-ish design blanket on his brother for comfort, thus, he and Kory took their turn to keep their eyes on Raven.

******** Damian's dream were unpleasant which he end up awake with heavy sweats and panting and he thought, perhaps, it was the effect from the time and space travel. As he looked at Raven's bed, her face seems peacefully sleep despite all the beeping sound, machine were made.

Slowly he approach the bed and and sit on the chair has been recently placed there, perhaps either by Dick or Kory. He rest his arm and his head at the edge of the bed while his finger tracing her palm and slowly wrap around her finger, then kiss her knuckle.

He sighed as he stared at her that shown tranquility and peace. Seems like the sleepiness hasn't deserted him yet leading to few noded then he slowly land his head in the palm of unconcious Raven.

In a sudden, something awoken him. A twitch. He open his eyes as he seen her hands. Yes, more responds!

He grab it with both of his hands discreetly and placed on his cheek as he observed her eyelashes begun to fluttered. His heart almost jumped as he seen her eyes opened. With all the hope and excitement, he take his breath and about to say something until...

"Who are you? And why are you hold my hand? "

*******

It's been months.

Raven now hang out at the justice hall after she's awaken is a good sign but the only thing that bothers him, she... Doesn't remember about their relationship and their engagement.

She knew him, the 'Damian Wayne' for his infamous brat attitude but what she didn't know that, both of them were suppose to be married two months ago and damn, he's a mess.

Sometimes she caught him staring at her while shes reading at the library, sometimes when she walk in the garden.

Did they strike a conversation? Well, he tried but something kept holding him back like his father emergency meeting in Gotham, Jon's calling from space mission. An ordinary person might throw their tantrum about it but Damian Wayne accept that now its not their time to have a deeper conversation. Yet.

******

She felt peaceful as she taking a stroll at the garden. The flowers, trees, grass, all of them seems like in heavenly. She remember something new today. A showdown. Something like that. She's fighting with something big.

It does ignite her magic and alter her appearance into the damn Queen of Darkness. She still wonder, how did she end up on earth if she's already seal the dimension for good? She sighed and took a few step ahead and there, she saw him. A guy with complex aura surrounding him. Some of them are dark, some are sad, and the rest are bittersweet.

She's been wondering why she always bumped into him. Is he stalking her? Could it be, since he's the son of Batman. Maybe it's in their blood, she mentally chuckled.

"Hey, you! "

He look at her then slightly sneered. "I have a name."

"Uh, Sorry, Mr. Damian Wayne. "

"It doesn't have to be THAT formal. "

Raven accidentally let out her snort. Quickly, she cover her mouth. She'd be damned if he heard... What? Is that a smile?

Before she's about to say, his face change to his usual sour expression within nano second. "State your business then. " his stern voiced heard after a long silence.

"Oh uh... " she caught off guard.

"Well, nothing. Just wondering..." then her eyes caught up with a book he was holding that has pencil scribbled, more like doodling. "What are you doing?" she casually walk to him, invading his personal space.

She could feel the intensity of his eyes as he gaze at her then shifted to the tree view. "Some research. " he blurted out automatically.

"Oh? " She was curious though. Everytime when she meet him, it feels like her body drawn to him like almost wanted to embrace every single of his being. She quickly discarded the thought. 'Damn twilight,' she cursed under her breath for reading cheesy supernatural novel.

"You seems tense?" Damian close the book and tidy up his tools.

"I don't know. I kind of trying to put up some missing puzzle of my memory. " Raven rubbed her chin as she stared blankly at Damian's shirt. Unintentionally.

Damian, uncomfortable of being stared, cleared his throat that made Raven jumped abit from her short daydream.

"You need help?" Damian, volunteer himself.

"You want to help me? " Raven in disbelief as the Son of Batman offered himself. This is rare.

"I could help to sketch out by the description, who knows, it might help you remember something," said the dark hair man as he casually dust off his pant and shirt.

"Well... Let's go! " Raven, unconciously take his hand. She realise with sudden unusual movement as her eyes went wide just a second and slowly let go of him. "I'm sorry. I... Don't know what is happening. But it seems we kinda really close before I've lost my memory," she tried to laugh. Trying to make it less awkward.

When she saw his face, She saw something in his eyes; a melancholic, sad, and heavy gaze, of wanting to be acceptance.

"Perhaps. "

He turn his back on her, "Follow me."

Raven, bit her lips to keep her from being nervous, followed him as they making their way to Damian's specialize facility. A laboratory.

When both of them enter the building, everything seems familiar to her. All the passage, the door, the interior design; It feels like home. Damian put his sketch tool on work bench nearby the super computer and pulled out the chair and offer Raven to sit.

"I'm just gonna go fresh up abit, then we'll start the session. "

"Got it."

"And... " Damian paused as he tried to remember something.

"Don't touch anything on that table. " he point out an area where it filled with microscope and some are advance machinery. Is that a laser?

"I am not a child, Damian Wayne. " Raven pouted.

"Then act like an adult. " Damian huffed and disappear into his room.

"Jerk." as the young lady fold her hand and sit on the chair quietly.

***** Its been 20 minutes, she looks at the clock then at the room where Damian disappear. She's rocking her chair back and forth while her eyes roaming everywhere.

Suddenly, she saw the sketch book on the table where Damian left earlier. The dark color seems intriguing for her to open its content. To reveal the mystery.

'I hate being curious cat but.... Why not take a little peek? ' her heart begging her to see. Raven take a deep breath then slowly she lean on the table to take a closer look on Damian's sketch book.

Slowly she open those black leather cover, and she almost fell off from her chair! The first drawing who greet her is her own potrait. Realistic and detail drawing of her face.

Her heart is pounding fast. 'What did I do to this guy? ' then she open up the next page. There were several person she could recognise like Dick, Kory, Mari, some old man, his other brothers and Bruce.

When she flip for more she saw her again, this time she was hanging out with a creature, a fluffy beast with batwing and ring on his nose.

As she flip, she saw her, sketches of her in simple line, sometimes in complex mesh and shade. Different expression, even with dialogue. 'Did i ever said some of these line? ' as she read it because some of them are cheesy and romantic.

After almost all pages, her shaky hands close the book. 'Who is this guy to me? ' Raven feeling confused and nervous and her eyes looked at his door. This time, she need to see inside for some answers.

She trust her instinct as she walked to his door. She gently knock but... No answer. Her hand slowly twisted the door knob and open the door.

She actually went into Damian Wayne's room. This is crazy, and her body made its own decision as if she's done it thousands time. She'll definitely in big trouble.

******** She's in his room. HIS ROOM!! Carefully she walking around, she saw a potrait of her hanging on the wall opposite to his bed. It was really her, in precise color. She felt her heart jump a little. "I don't think we're bestfriend. This is much more.... " her whisper trailed off as she mesmerized with his work.

"Are kidding me? What are you doing in my room?!"

Raven wince when she heard it.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know i'm kinda bit annoying but your work did took my breaaaaaAAAAA!!!! "she quickly close her eyes.

Oh, dear. Damian is in towel stood in front of her as he just come out from his shower. Ah, no wonder he took a long time.

"What part you don't understand about..."

"Well, I didn't touch anything on that table. " Raven defend herself as she keep her eyes closed.

She could heard him sighed. "I did say 'act like an adult.'"

"Well, Damian Wayne. Try to elaborate what act like adult means!" Raven then turn around from looking at him.

"Like talk to me like a person. Not like a GODDAMN idiot who didn't look at me."

"I am not an idiot! " as she's annoyed as she facing him.

"Good. "

However, she tried not to focus on him, his wet hair, those intense green eyes and his uncovered torso. Damn...

Damian crossed his arm. Amnesia or not, she has violated his personal space, not that Damian would care but still!

"I have so many question to ask. " Raven almost whispers. "About the picture, the sketch, this familiar building. I... " she rub her arm as she try to sort out her mixture feeling. Embarassed, confused, happy, excited. What's with all of this whenever she's with him?

Damian arched his brow as he listen attentively. Tt, Of course she has seen his sketches.

"I feel... Happy whenever i see you. I feel like i want to hug you, some sort... Ugh this is sound insane." she closed her face with her palm. Damian definitely gonna call her pervert especially in this situation.

Damian slightly amused, it was like listening to her first confession 8 years ago. Slowly he sit on his chair nearby.

"Why don't you take a seat? " Damian point out the chair in front of him.

"Uh... " Raven still feel nervous about it. Damian, in his towel. Sitting on that chair with arm and leg crossed.

"I won't bite."

She sneered then sighed as she landed on the leathered chair. "This chair is making me nervous. As i was saying..." she put her hands on her chest.

"I don't think you and I were bestfriend, Mr. Wayne. I think its likely more than that. "

Did she Friendzone me? Damian's mind irritated by her statement. How dare she -

"I was so wrong about this, this miscomunication. Maybe I've interpreted it wrong. Maybe I didn't trust my intuition enough. I..I should have trust it but I'm afraid seeing you in sour expression and your cold atittude, i'm afraid that i might only have one-side feeling. "

Yep. Definitely like the first confession, he mentally noted.

"Have you ever heard about don't judge a book by its cover? " Damian leaned on his desk as he close up to her. Seeing her red wine eyes sparkles against the light in his room. Her soft lavender color hair. Her red ruby lip which he missed so much.

"Yeah, i know. But still, who am I to you?" as she dared to look into his shamrock green eyes. Hoping to find the answers.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that, Miss Roth." Damian still exhibit his seriousness. Raven hold up her emotion because something inside her like about to burst open and hell, she felt like she wants to give that jerk a thousand kiss on his face.

"But..."

"Uh?" Raven jumped a bit as Damian held his hand to her.

"You're an empath, right? I want you to feel it." She could feel heavy emotion behind his gaze. Slowly she reached out her hand towards him.

Damian, grab her hand and begun to exhaled.

Raven were drowning.

Drowning with his emotion. Those heavy burden, sadness, bitter and anger hit her like waterfall! After the intense wave, she suddenly felt butterfly in her stomach. This is so warm. This center feeling.

It feels like she wraping herself in a blanket on the cold night, comforting and safe.

When she open her eyes she saw his vulnerable expression. She never seen him in that face before. A longing.

Then, she realise the scar that marked horizontally on his stomach. She touched it, unintentionally. "Home..."

"Home? " Damian almost lose out his emotion in his voice.

"Home is when you go there... " Raven remember the line.

"They have to take you in." Damian continue the quote from his favourite poet.

"This scars... I remember Hell, the titans, YOU. " as she squeeze out her memory.

"I was suppose to stay there, to watch my father but why I'm... " Raven bit her lips. "Why? Why i'm here, Damian? I had to seal the dimension so that they could not harm the other dimension. " her tears start to blooming. "That is not your home. You deserve more than that hellish place, Raven. " Damian took his courage as he caressed her cheek, wiped out the tears.

"You doesn't seem content with the place. That is not your home. " both of his hand now on both of her cheek while he gaze into her eyes.

"Sometimes Home has a heartbeat, two arms and a soul. " he smiled. "It doesn't have to be a place. " he added.

"I... I.. " Raven getting choked up.

Tears start to rolled on her cheeks and without any hesitate, Damian give her a kiss. Long and still.

She felt everything connected, her memories, his emotion. Eureka!

Things in his room starts to float like its in zero gravity due to the intense emotion she felt. The bliss that makes her wants to reach for the stars.

Both of them withdrawn each other and placing their forehead together, savouring it. "I remember. " she whispers and yet she still cried.

Damian chuckled as he tug her hair behind her ears. He looked at her beneath his long lashes which made her heart fluttered.

"I am home with you. " she repeat her words during their depature from ruin of Azarath before their time travel goes wrong.

"All you need is a kiss to remember? " she can hear his giggle in his words. "A true love kiss. " as he peck her cheek.

"Since when Damian Wayne being cheesy romantic? " she teased him.

"Just come here. " as his arm wide open waiting for her. "I miss you. "

Raven scoffed then gloomped at the young man. "I'm home," she whisper as she bury her face at his collar, inhaled his freshly after shower scent, imprinting in her memory.

"Welcome back. " Damian wrap his arm on her body, it feels perfect. How he miss her so much! He give a kiss and landed his cheek on her hair.

Bonus:

#damirae #demonbirds #damian wayne #raven #rachel roth #damirae week 2019 #damirae week #procreate #amnesia #enjoy #artist on tumblr #artist on twitter #artist on instagram #digital art #dc #Fanart #continuation from the ring comic hahaha

204 notes · View notes

slenbee · 5 years

Note

Honestly, if you ever asks for prompts and frostiron, I will be there because I cry all the time at the lack of new Frostiron content. So here's one of the angsty prompts!! “You said you’d always be there for me…so how did this happen? Why weren’t you there?”

-2 years later- I’m finally getting around to doing this prompt :’‘) Please enjoy.

Edit: It’s been like 3 years now (omg i’m so sorry) and unfortunately i could never get around to finishing this.

SO, that being said, please take this unfinished work of mine :’D

“You said you’d always be there for me…so how did this happen? Why weren’t you there?”Loki’s mouth opened before promptly closing. He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? That he didn’t have a choice? Excuses. That he had to fake his death and just disappear from Tony’s life, only to come back five years later begging him for his help? Tell him the truth. “ Anthony, I know you’re upset-”

“ Upset. You think I’m upset? “ Tony began, his face screwing up, clearly taken aback. “ O-kay, let’s go with surprised, for starters. Surprised that you’re actually standing here, having a conversation with me, which brings us to emotion number two, anger. “ His left arm gave a slight tremor, fingers balling into a fist as he tried to calm his nerves. “ I’m angry- no, utterly pissed right now, because the last time I heard your name leave someones lips it was Thor coming to me to tell me that you died. Yet now you’re here. “ Motioning towards the god he gave a scoff. “ Alive, and clearly not dead. “

Grimacing Loki looked to the side, a hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck. Pale blue eyes searched for an answer out the window beside him, words piecing together and scattering in his mind as he tried to focus. “ A lot has happened since I was last here-”“ No shit Sherlock. “ Tony interjected, folding his arms across his chest.

Sucking in a breath Loki continued, eyes sweeping to the mortals face, his voice escalating with a hint of agitation. “-And if you’ll allow me a moment to explain, I will. “

“ Very tempted not to give you one.” Tony watched as Loki’s face fell, his lip quirking upwards. Five seconds passed before he spoke again. “ But sure. Go ahead. “

Bringing a hand to his nose Loki pinched the spot between his eyes and closed them, one arm folding along his chest. Sucking in a breath he held it before letting it out in a rush. “ Alright… It started with when I stopped visiting you from Asgard. I was sent to the dungeons after my.. ‘departure’ from Earth, as I’m sure you know. But after about a year, something horrible happened. “

“What, you get bored and throw a temper tantrum or something? Daddy take away all your toys? “ Tony muttered sarcastically.

Loki’s expression remained stoic. “ No. But you may want to sit down. My story is a long and troublesome one that may take a while. “ Motioning to the nearby table and chairs, he dipped his head in emphasis. “ Please. “

Tony’s attention flicked to the furniture, jaw jutting to the side. Fine. Stepping over to it he pulled our a chair and flipped it around, straddling the back of it as tall dark and- some how alive took a seat across from him. “ Fine. I’m listening. You’ve got… “ Lifting his wrist he studied the time on his watch before lowering it back to the top of the chair. “ One hour. Make it count, you’re on the clock “ Motioning for Loki to continue, he propped his chin on one of his hands and listened.

***

“ No way. “

“ Yes… very much ‘way’. “ Loki sighed out quietly, his position against the table finally relaxing, one arm folded towards his chest while the other cupped the side of his face. With a subtle lift of his fingers, he conjured forth two glasses of ice water. One of which Tony swiped off the table in a rush and took a long swig of. The mortal looked like he’d seen a ghost. Quite literally. But not only that, he was scared.

The cold water hit Tony’s tongue, easing the sudden dryness in his mouth as he took a long, much needed drink. Their little share and tell had lasted over three hours, and in that time he learned about a lot of things he now wished he hadn’t heard at all. Setting the cup down he drew his left hand to his chest, rubbing at his wrist in an obvious display of nerves. “ So what you’re telling me is, this ‘Thanos’ guy brainwashed you-”

Loki lifted a finger and spoke up quietly. “ No, the Black Order did. Thanos was just the one who gave them the order to do so. When they could not break my mind entirely, that is when he.. ‘took matters into his own hands.’ “

Tony grimaced, the mental images Loki had painted in his mind more than enough to make him feel sick to his stomach. They’d beaten him, tortured him, used his own body’s natural weakness to fire to… Goosebumps prickled along his arms and instinctively he tried to rub them away. It was like Afghanistan all over again, but ten times worse. “ Right. So… This lasted for an unmeasurable amount of time, because it flows differently in different parts of the universe? Do you have about an estimate on- “

Brown eyes widened as Loki’s expression grew dark with discomfort, his eyes flicking to the side in a manner that had Tony’s chest aching. Shit. “ I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. We’ll just go with ‘ a really long long time ‘, okay? “ Tony waited, studying the mage’s face. When he was given a subtle nod, he continued. “So after all of that you were sent to earth to get the tesseract for Thanos. But you still had some of your- i don’t know what to call it. Sanity? Real self? Somewhere in there, and you had Selvig put in the safety switch? “ What if things had been different? What if the switch didn’t work and he was stuck sending a Nuke through a wormhole… Yeah. Bad idea to think about that right now.

A pained grunt and a sigh fluttered past Loki’s lips as he tried to shrug off the memory. “ You would be correct. The Infinity stones are the most powerful items in the universe. Their power is unmeasurable. The only thing capable of stopping one of them is the use of another. “ Loki brought up a hand and ran it through his hair, rubbing at the nape of his neck with a furrow of his brow.

“ Which brings us to my next question, what did you do with the scepter? “ Loki frowned as he watched Tony straighten himself in his chair, gripping the back of it with both hands. Oddly, the human started smiling. Narrowing his eyes, the god drew in a slow breath. When he spoke, his words held a musical hint to them. “ Anthony… What did you do…? “ That smile widened and Loki’s own lips quirked up.

Oh. He’s going to get a kick out of this. Tony thought to himself, wiggling a bit in his seat to get comfortable. “ Wellll... Banner and I might have tried to use the power the scepter gave off to create a new kind of sentient intelligence. “ Loki raised a brow questionably. “ We tried integrating it into Jarvis’s matrix, buuuut that just ended up creating a murder bot named Ultron that tried to use the mind stone to make himself a fleshy body. “ The god opened his mouth, anger clearly in his eyes but thankfully Tony had his ass covered. “ But. “ He said, lifting a finger to silence the oncoming storm.

Standing up slowly he lifted his right leg and swung it around to stand. “ The team and I hunted Ultron down and managed to steal the cradle that was making his new body. Bringing it back here, Bruce and I tried- and succeeded on integrating Jarvis’s cerebral matrix with the new body, and the mind stone. “ A smug smile tugged at his lips as he watched Loki’s mouth snap shut, lashes fluttering in confusion and honest surprise. Tony clapped his hand against his fist rather excitedly and rounded the table. “ With some help from thunder thighs and a lot of lightning, we gave birth to Vision. “

———-

As noted at the start, this work is incomplete. But it’s got some angst to it so i hope you enjoy anyway! :D

#liten-vulpes #frostiron #ironfrost

8 notes · View notes

rynne311 · 7 years

Text

For Better or Worse

Request: Hello! Can I have a Bruce Wayne x reader? Y/N and Bruce attend this charity ball thingy and lots of girls are all over Bruce making you feel self conscious? (You can write the rest the way you want too :) ) thank you!!!

Requested by: @thegreatfallout

Word Count: 1,355

Requests are Open HERE.

You had long ago accepted that gala events with the social elite would forever be a part of your life. You didn’t particularly care for them, but the charitable contributions they garnered mostly made the experiences worth it. Tonight was different; tonight was for your charity work with one of Gotham’s women’s centers. You were the one pressing your peers for donations in order to implement the advancement and support programs, which meant the tables had turned and you were now the one leaving your husband to wait around while you schmoozed everyone into prying their checkbooks open.

You were making your way back after this round of purposeful socializing when you spotted it. The modelesque socialites had once again descended upon your husband in your brief absence, and heaven help him, you could see him trying to gracefully excuse himself from them. This seemed to happen any time you two got separated at one of these events; it didn’t mean you liked it, it just meant you were unfortunately used to it. You weren’t, however, used to some of those older society women, who had undoubtedly sent their daughters over to lure your husband, not hushing their voices when they made snide remarks about you and how unfit you were to carry the Wayne name as you walked passed them.

“I don’t know what he’s doing with that Bleeding Heart; all she does is spend his money on the sob story of the week.” You swore you could hear the eyeroll that accompanied the insult.

“I know! You’d think if she wanted to put his money to good use, she’d go under the knife to get everything fixed and actually look like someone worthy of a man like that,” one of the other women in the group added that really made you feel like that girl you were in high school who always seemed to be forgotten until it was time to ridicule someone.

One of the women, one who looked like she could still own a catwalk, took the opportunity to make a dig at you, ”One would think, and I don’t know how he can even stand to let her out of the house in that god awful dress she keeps wearing. It shows too much of her back and went out of style at least four galas ago.”

“She’s clearly holding him back from what he deserves: a decent woman of good breeding, like my Elizabeth.”

You weren’t sure when you had stopped trying to get back over to Bruce, but now you felt stuck in place. You could do nothing but listen to the snide comments about you appearance and ambitions as you watched gorgeous women throw themselves at your husband. Without ever meaning to, you began to agree with the not so hushed whispers that you would never be good enough to be the one on Bruce Wayne’s arm.

You were drawn back out of your musings by the concerned approach of your son, on of those “Bleeding Heart Sob Stories” you spent Bruce’s money on.

“Ma, you look like you need a drink,” Jason offered in an attempt to distract you while he figured out what was bothering you.

“That won’t change anything,” you refused, shaking your head with the most defeated voice Jason had ever heard from you. It surprised him even more when you turned around and left the ballroom without another room.

Your sudden departure caught Bruce’s attention as he was finally able to separate himself from the small crowd of women surrounding him. Making his way to the hall and foyer outside the ballroom, Bruce had no trouble seeing that you were now barely holding yourself together. You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts to realize Bruce had guided you into an empty room until you heard the lock click and found yourself face to face with a very concerned looking husband.

One of the reasons you and Bruce worked so well together was that not only were you both creatures of defense mechanisms to push others away, but also that you both looked right through it every time. Bruce was one to push everyone away by closing himself off and brooding; you knew just the right amount of space to give him and just how to project his own needs back to him through you. However, you were one to push people away through anger, especially when you were made to feel like less than enough. As hard as it may be, Bruce took the anger head on without taking it to heart - you were only trying to protect yourself from hurting more than you already were.

“What’s going on with you tonight?” He tried to ask, but was met with silence. The World’s Greatest Detective shouldn’t have asked a question he didn’t already know the answer to, especially when it came to his wife and hurt feelings. Bruce thought back to the ballroom in an effort to piece together what had changed your mood so suddenly. After a moment of thought, Bruce tried again, “You don’t need to be jealous, sweetheart, I want those women around me even less than you do.”

Knowing that Bruce thought that this was only jealousy only made you more upset, and as soon as he the statement left his lips, he could see that clear as day. For such an intelligent man, he sure could be dense.

“Well you should,” you venomously spat at him, earning another confused look from Bruce. “They’re all perfect for you! Tall, pretty, good breeding, modelesque society women,” you continued with tears brimming your eyes, “Not the working class, short, keeps wearing the same dress because it’s comfy with no zipper to fight with and is apparently the only design to realize that hips are a thing, and spends your money on sobs stories mess that I am!”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t stop it; the floodgates had opened and the tears were going to fall whether you liked it or not. Bruce realized just how much you were hurting when you threw your hands up to block him as he tried to pull you in for a comforting hug. As you lowered your hands to wrap around yourself, he settled for the next best physical comfort he could think to offer you.

“No, you’re perfect for me,” Bruce argued. “Their smiles don’t even reach their eyes, let alone their whole bodies like yours does. They only think of themselves, when in the same position you always put everybody else before yourself.

“You’re perfect for me because you love with your whole being, not with your wallet,” he paused to collect himself. “You see through the masks and you love me despite my flaws-”

“Because of your flaws,” you interrupted, unwrapping your arms from yourself and stepping into Bruce’s fallen arms. You leaned your head against his chest and tilted your head to look up at your husband, clarifying, “I love you because of your flaws, not in spite of them. They’re part of what makes you ‘you,’ so I love you because of your flaws.”

“Fine, you love me because of my flaws,” Bruce conceded with a chuckle. “And I love you because of any flaw that you think you have. That’s why, my beautiful in every imaginable way wife, I always choose you to be the one at my side.”

You were both content to stay like that - wrapped up in each other's arms, gently swaying to the muffled sounds of the music from the ballroom - for the rest of the gala, until you could go home and get wrapped up together all over again.

You didn’t have to be that ridiculed, insecure girl you were in high school again, but you didn’t have to completely lever her behind and forgotten either. It was those flaws and experiences that led you here today - happy, fulfilled, loved and in love, and making a difference to help people.

For better or worse, flaws and all you and Bruce were in it together for the long haul.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne reader insert #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #dc reader insert #Jason Todd #bruce wayne imagine #dc x reader #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics reader insert #fanfiction #batman reader insert #batfamily reader insert

692 notes · View notes

batmomhoe · 7 years

Text

A Fork in the Road Pt.2

Requested by an anon

Summary: Damian overhears Batmom talking to Harley over her personal phone and knows he has to tell his father.

Read Pt.1 Here

Warning(s): None

Excusing yourself from the breakfast table, you walked quickly into a vacant room, making sure to lock the door. Damian quirked an eyebrow at your sudden leave, though he was the only one to even pay attention to your quick departure. After he was sure no one else noticed he slipped out of the rather busy kitchen behind you and stood outside the room. Digging into his sweatshirt pocket he grabbed his ear piece to tune into what you were saying.

The vibrations against your thigh continued until you pulled your phone out to finally answer it. Quickly pressing the button you greeted the caller and nestled into the chair, completely oblivious to your youngest eavesdropping on you. You’d been talking to Harley for a few months at this point, unbeknownst to the rest of your family, including Dick and Tim. It was innocent though, strictly just both of you talking out problems, even you venting to Harley about Batman.

You both had a basic understanding of each other and your relationships. It helped conversation come easy and a bond to form between the two of you rather quickly. Most days Harley talked your ear off and today was no different, so you simply mumbled a few periodic “mhm”s and “yeah, okay”s.

Damian narrowed his eyes as he listened trying to determine who you were talking to every day. His insides boiled at the thought of you cheating on his father. Or maybe it was the thought of you not being happy with this family that you were searching for someone else that made him mad. Regardless, he wasn’t going to stand for it. He wasn’t about to let you walk away from all of them, from him.

Over the next few weeks he listened in on your conversations to gather up enough information. He wouldn’t just storm into his father and declare you were cheating on him without any evidence. It took more planning than he thought, or rather, it consumed him wholeheartedly more than he thought.

Somewhere inside of him he knew he wasn’t desperate to gather evidence of your cheating, he was desperate to gather evidence that you weren’t cheating. It was difficult for him to write down every time you ranted about Batman and how it felt like he didn’t care or how the kids seemed to never appreciate you. How could you be so stupid? So blind? His father loved you with every fiber of his being! And so did he...

Thankfully the twelve year old’s prayers were answered when you finally addressed your mystery caller. But by the name Harley? It was a male name and he froze until he heard you mentioned the Joker as the caller’s significant other. His body went even more ridged as it all clicked into place. Instead of being able to forget the whole mess he knew he had to tell his father. It just wasn’t safe.

The boy walked down into the cave with confidence, knowing his father was there, “Father,” his voice was stern, afraid if he let any emotion show at all he would falter and rip something apart.

Bruce pulled away from the computer and turned to face his son, relaxing back into the chair, “What is it?”

“It’s (Y/N). She’s been in contact with Harley Quinn every day for at least the past month,” his chin lifted up slightly as his jaw locked, just waiting for the go-ahead to track the female clown down.

But Bruce just turned back to the computer, “I’ll talk to her later.”

“Later?!” Damian’s voice inflated with anger, infuriated at his father for not taking action immediately, “Do it now!”

A silent pause fell upon them as Bruce processed Damian’s outburst of anger and turned to face him again. His son was glaring daggers at him. You knew that Gotham came before you in Bruce’s mind but that didn’t mean he had to act like it all the time and Damian was merely reminding him of that.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed and he set off towards the stairs, brushing against Damian as he did so. It didn’t take him long to find you spread out in some odd position on the couch watching Netflix. He picked up yours legs to sit down before placing them on his lap. Grabbing the remote from its place balancing on your stomach, he paused your show.

Almost immediately your head popped up to glare at him and purse your lips, “What was that for?”

His gaze fell to your legs, loosing himself in the rich color of your skin, “Can I talk to you?”

“Well yeah,” You tilted your head in slight confusion at him, mentally thinking of a way to get the remote back.

“You’re talking to Harley. Why?” His voice was gruff, as if he was trying not to be Batman interrogating you but failing miserably.

Your expression softened and you sighed while you pulled yourself up into a sitting positon, “Yeah, I am,” there was no use in denying it, he already knew.

“Why?” He repeated his question as he looked at you, his eyes stern and expecting an answer this time, not appreciating your avoiding the question.

“Relax, I’m not hiding anything, or at least not much. She just needs help,” You shrugged and looked to the floor, not really wanting to make eye contact with him.

“What if it's a trap?!” His voice was getting deeper and his upper body leaned into you slightly.

“I’ve been talking to her for like five months Bruce, If she was going to do anything, I think she’d have done it by now.”

He fell silent, a million thoughts racing through his head. Mostly those of the wickedly disturbed things the Joker has concocted over the years. It made his mind go into hyper drive, thinking of all the things he may be planning with a long-term scheme like that.

“She left him, Bruce,” You knew exactly what he was thinking and tried to plead your case before he began scolding you, “That’s what she wanted my help with.”

“On your cell phone? What if she tracked you?”

“I’m the one who suggested I give her my number. I’m not stupid, I’ve been working the batcomputer long enough I know how to scramble a signal!”

He went to open his mouth again to bring up another ‘what-if’ before you stopped him, “Look, you’re out there every single night not knowing if you’re going to get killed while I sit in a cave. She wanted to talk to me - and she just needed someone there for her. I assessed the situation and made a decision. She wanted to leave him, Bruce! And now she has, because of my help! And it feels damn good.”

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face, keeping his hand on his forehead before dropping it. His eyes met yours and he stared at you. Your gut dropped and you didn’t know what he was about to do. Until he started reaching towards you and engulfed you in his arms. He pulled you to his chest and held you there while you blinked, trying to determine if he was mad or not.

“You’re right. You did well. I’m proud,” He ruffled your hair as if you were a child, making you pout, “Just don’t get any ideas about wearing a cape.”

#batman #batmom #batman imagine #batmom imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader

487 notes · View notes