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#Bruce and Reader are married
ciaraswritings · 1 year
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Unexpected.
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.
Word Count: 3.9K words
Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.
Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.
It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?
The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 
I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."
I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 
"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."
Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 
He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 
Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 
Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 
My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.
I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.
...
"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.
"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.
"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  
I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?
"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 
"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."
"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 
"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.
"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 
Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 
I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 
The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...
...
I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 
Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.
Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.
Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.
 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.
"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 
"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.
"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 
"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 
"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.
"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 
I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."
His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."
"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."
"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.
"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 
"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"
"Yes, it still hurts." 
"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"
"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 
"Maybe," he grinned.
"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."
"I called and told them you can't come in this week."
"This... this is why I married you."
It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.
Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 
"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 
"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 
"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.
Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 
"No."
"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"
"No."
"Are you on any medications?"
"No."
"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 
"No."
"History of heartburn?"
"No."
"When was your last menstrual cycle?"
"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 
"Do you know what year it is?"
I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.
The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been on birth control?" 
"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."
"During?"
"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."
"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."
"Okay." 
The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 
Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 
"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 
"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."
"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 
"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.
...
Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.
Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 
I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"
"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."
"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."
"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."
I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"
"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."
My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"
"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."
...
When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.
I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.
Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.
"Mom!"
My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 
"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 
"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 
"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 
"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.
Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 
"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.
"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 
"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 
I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."
...
I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 
No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.
Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 
"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."
"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 
"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 
"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.
Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 
"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 
Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"
Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."
Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"
His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."
"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 
"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 
Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 
"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 
My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."
I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"
"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 
Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 
"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.
"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 
He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 
My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."
He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."
"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"
I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."
His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 
"Expect the unexpected." 
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dasha022 · 2 months
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Till the ghost do us part
When a bird can't help but get into trouble while searching for an answer and makes a certain ghost guy face the terrifying truth, the bird will have to deal with the consequences and give him a new home. Because that's what a husband does, right?
If I receive a lot of interest in this plot, I will upload the complete chapter to ao3.
“Ok… What the hell did you just say?”
Danny took his time to look at the large amount of furris surrounding his “holding cell” and let out a long sigh. Now he understood his former literature professor when he felt exhausted from explaining something that was too easy for him to understand.
“Ask the sad blond in the trench coat, so much for my wanting to explain my now-husband’s situation.” To make his point, Danny turned around in what by now would be his “VIP” room and proceeded to ignore his husband’s family.
“That’s the damn question mark, how in the hell did Red Robin end up married to you in the first place!” Spoiler exclaimed with his arms in the air. “There was not even a ceremony involved, much less a priest or Judge!”
“I already said it was his fault for not listening to me and continuing to use the same summoning circle to look for answers to questions that would not be answered," repeated the starry-snowy-haired boy as he stood with his back turned and waved one of his hands in disinterest.
Dick massaged his forehead while he assimilated the information, but he still could not process the whole event. “So, you got mad at Red Robin and decided to make him your husband as punishment?”
Phantom, the specter that was not supposed to need a breath, let out another sigh. “To a certain extent, you could call it punishment. But, from my point of view, this marriage is the responsibility that your co-worker must assume for ruining my peace by playing with that summoning circle.” At the end of his tone, Danny's voice turned cold. This was also reflected on the walls and the floor where he resided as a "captive".
If you find any grammar mistake, I'm sorry English is not my first lenguage and I'm a little be bad writing it. But tell me if I need to fix something. 😅
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deadghosy · 2 years
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*miguel kisses your face*
You: why you do that?
Miguel: because your face seemed kissable
You:
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Tony’s Birthday (Tony Stark x Reader)
God, the writers block on this one was real, my dudes. I couldn’t come up with anything, and then I finally had a breakthrough and no time to write. And then I wrote like 2k words in a night. So, my brain works in fantastic ways. Now that it’s finally written, please enjoy this shameless sex with plot with Tony Stark.
Warnings: There is smut in this, and I think I’m like legally obligated to warn minors about that. Remember that you choose the content you consume. There’s swearing, I’m sure. I don’t normally get through a paragraph without one. Mentions of lingerie, dresses, alcohol, and hangovers. Tony Stark, always comes with his own warning.
Word Count: 6149
Summary: After weeks of not knowing what to get Tony for his birthday, you finally come up with an idea. Spoiler alert, he loves it.
Tomorrow is your husband, Tony Stark’s, birthday. And you have no idea what to get him. He’s throwing himself a big party, or rather you and Pepper are, and you’re just having Tony foot the bill while you two plan. But what do you get a billionaire for his birthday? He has everything he could ever wish for, as he’s told you multiple times. But seriously, he doesn’t even have something on his Amazon wish list, especially since he bought Amazon a couple years back.
So that, again, begs the question. What do you get Tony; genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist that he is; for his birthday?
Well, what about you? You’ve been married a while, you’ve obviously had sex. But what if you went out and got yourself a new set of lingerie? Give Tony a surprise for his birthday, and maybe put a bow on top. Tony would love that. You thought, grabbing your purse and leaving.
At the store, you looked through many different sets, even finding ones modeled after all of the Avengers. Sets after Sam and Thor here, you and Natasha there, Bucky and Steve, Clint, even Loki! Or was that Bruce? Nope, Loki, his name was written across the ass of the panties. Oh, but there was the set modeled after Bruce, more coverage, that made sense. Oh, and there was one for each of the twins too, wow. Tony would get so jealous he’d just rip it right off of me and- nope, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves in the middle of the store. Before moving, you saw a set for Peter too and decided not to grab it since Tony might literally kill you. That’s my son, you thought, moving it to the side. Not only has Peter become a son to Tony, he called me Mom by accident last week. You did pick up one of each of the rest though, just thinking about what Tony would do to you seeing you in them lighting a fire within you.
And then you saw the set you were looking for. Red adorned with gold, sheer lace cups with gold accents and crotchless red panties with IRON MAN written on the back in gold. He won’t even have to take it off to fuck me. He might buy this entire store just so he can- your train of thought was cut off by your phone ringing. Tony, of course.
“Hey Tone.” You said, picking up and adding the set to your basket.
“Hello, my beautiful wife.” He replied. “I was looking for you, where are you?”
“I’m just picking up some last minute things for the party tomorrow. Why, do you need me?” You asked, walking over to an open register and placing your basket down.
You could hear the smirk before he even started talking. “You’re late for our weekly lab meeting.” Of course. He means your weekly fucking in the lab while Bruce takes a convienently long lunch break after walking in on the two of you going at it 4 weeks in a row.
“I’m almost done here, and I’m not that far, I’ll be home soon.” You said, hanging up quickly.
The cashier looked at you star-struck and you were confused for a moment before you remembered that you too were an Avenger and you were married to Iron Man. “Can I have your autograph?” She asked softly, holding out a notebook filled with the signatures of the other Avengers.
“Of course, hun.” You said, taking the pen from her and signing in the last available spot. Which ironically, was next to Tony’s. That wasn’t hard, though. The man you chose to marry had a gigantic signature. “You need anybody else’s?” You asked softly.
“No thank you. You’re the last one. Do you need a bag?”
You nodded, internally facepalming at not having brought one. “Yes please. Do you need anything else or just for me to pay?”
“I can’t think of anything ma’am. Did you need anything?”
“Why don’t you and everyone that works here come to Tony’s birthday party tomorrow? Since I’m the last one to sign your little book, I assume everybody else comes in here pretty regularly.”
“Yes ma’am, they do.” She said, handing you the bag. “Mr. Stark is here about every other month.” Well that lines up with when I get surprises. You thought, smiling. “Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes always come in together, and they got quite the laugh out of the Avenger’s line of sets last time they were here. Mr. Wilson has come with them a few times, but he normally likes to come by himself. Thor and Loki have come in together more than once, but Thor really prefers to look.” You laughed at that. “Mr. Barton usually comes in alone, as do Ms. Romanoff and Dr. Banner. And the Maximoff twins have come in together before, but they usually prefer separately. It was funny the day one of them was in here and the other came in and saw them.” She told you. 
“Has Peter Parker ever been in here?” You asked, seemingly innocent.
She looked sheepish, “Just once, ma’am, and I guess he must’ve used Mr. Stark’s card since after buying his one item, he got a very angry phone call which sounded like it had something to do with safe sex and why Mr. Parker was spending Mr. Stark’s money at a lingerie shop.”
“Oh, Tony.” You sighed, turning towards the door with your bag. Before you left, you turned back. “Thank you. But I never caught your name, hun.”
“Oh, I’m Rachel Green.” She said, “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Stark. Your husband is one of our best customers.”
You nodded, sighing again. “Yeah, I’d believe it. Thank you, Rachel. And don’t forget to come to the party tomorrow.”
“I won’t. Have a great day!”
“You too!” You told her, finally pushing the door open and walking quickly back to Stark Tower so you could hide your shopping from Tony before having your lab “meeting”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, after a day of Avenging Paperwork (aka, filling in mission reports from the last month and filing them since you were the only one Tony let into the records room, digital or otherwise), you went up to the penthouse that you shared with Tony to find a bright red dress laying on the bed, with gold jewelry laying on your vanity.
“Mr. Stark has requested that you wear this tonight for him, Mrs. Stark.” JARVIS said. You’d been through so much with Tony and JARVIS that him speaking out of quite literally nowhere didn’t even scare you anymore.
“Why am I not even surprised, J? How long has he been picking outfits out for me now, 5 years?”
The AI spoke again, “Ever since your first party as his date, Mrs. Stark, 8 years ago now.”
“God, has it really been that long?” You asked yourself, stripping down and pulling out the Iron Man lingerie. “We’re getting old.”
“At least he let you pick your wedding dress.” JARVIS said, with a hint of humor in his robotic voice.
You laughed out loud while slipping on the dress, noting that it hugged you perfectly, had a much deeper neckline than you anticipated, and a very long slit up your right side up to your hip. “Very true J. And even though he told me that there was no limit, I still didn’t want to go too overboard.”
“He found it funny that he gave you unlimited money and you picked what was essentially the cheapest dress in the store.”
“That sounds like my husband’s sense of humour.” You said, sighing softly as you clasped the necklace behind your neck. When it came to the bracelet, however, you couldn’t get it on. When it was clasped, you couldn’t slip it on around your hand, but unclasped, you couldn’t shut it around your wrist. “Ah, fuck, Tony should know better by now to get me bracelets. I can’t ever get them on by myself.” You slipped on the extra rings Tony had left for you, knowing that you liked to wear lots of them, and put in the dangly earrings that were mini Iron Man suits.
As you were finishing up your makeup, Jarvis spoke again. “Mrs. Stark, would you like me to call someone for you to help you zip up your dress and clasp the bracelet?”
“Would you call Natasha for me, J?” You asked, starting on your hair, since the rest of your outfit was finished and ready for the party.
A moment later, there was a knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N? Are you okay? JARVIS said you needed my help.”
You opened the door. “J, you gotta stop worrying people. I’m fine, Nat. Zipper and bracelet.” You pulled her in and shut the door behind the both of you.
“My dearest apologies, Mrs. Stark. You know I never mean to worry anyone when their assistance is needed.” JARVIS told you both softly, trying to match the volume you both were speaking at, something Tony had thankfully programmed in him a long time ago.
“Okay, turn around, Y/N.” Nat told you, slowly taking in the new dress Tony had bought for you. You did, and she zipped you up. “This dress is lovely. One of Tony’s best choices in a while.”
“I’m sure he thinks it’s his birthday present, getting to spend money on me again.” You said, chuckling as you fidgeted nervously with your rings.
Natasha noticed your change in demeanour immediately. “Why are you nervous? You’re never nervous for one of Tony’s parties.” She said, clasping the bracelet around your non-dominant wrist.
“I just bought Tony’s present yesterday on a whim, and now I’m not as sure if he’ll like it.”
“What did you buy him? Can I see?”
“Um, well.. kind of.. not really.”
“Can you tell me what it is or where you got it from?”
“You know that cute little shop on 43rd that has the clerk with the notepad of Avengers’ signatures?” You asked, not making eye contact with her.
Natasha gasped softly. “You got yourself a new pair of lingerie for Tony’s birthday! Which set? Which set?” She went from shocked to excited in the blink of an eye.
“I mean, there’s that new Avengers line, y’know?” You continued nervously.
“You got the Iron Man ones?” She asked bluntly.
“I got all of them except the Spiderman ones. But I’m currently wearing the Iron Man ones.” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Bruce isn’t the only one with a raging green monster.” You said, looking at her to gauge her reaction.
She smirked, nodding her head in agreement with your plan. “So not tonight, but at some point, you’re gonna have crazy jealous sex with Tony when he discovers you bought every set from the Avengers line except Spiderman?”
“He’s like a kid to both of us!” You started to defend yourself. “But yeah. Yup. That’s the plan.”
“He’s gonna fuck the shit out of you.” She said, laughing.
You laughed along with her, knowing from your girls nights how much the both of you enjoy having your brains fucked out of you. “And that’s exactly what we want. You ready to go?”
“I am ready if you’re ready, Mrs. Stark.” Natasha said, offering you her arm to walk down the stairs in the stilettos Tony had picked out for you, despite knowing you couldn’t walk in them. You assumed that he did it on purpose at this point, so you’d have to stay near the Avengers the whole night as a form of using him (or one of the other Avengers) for balance.
“My husband is an asshole for doing this to me with every new pair of shoes he picks out for me.” You said, stumbling down the hall even while Nat was holding you up. “And every year for his birthday, he gets me a new sparkly red dress with gold accents. The entire world knows that I belong to him, does he really need to have me in his colours?”
“You’re currently wearing his colours under the dress, on purpose, with his name across the ass of the crotchless panties.” You went to make a smart remark about how would she know when she answered the question you hadn’t yet asked. “You weren’t the only one that’s checked out the new line, hun.”
“Fair enough.” You said, just as the elevator doors opened for the both of you into the party.
Nat wrapped her arm around your waist and led you over to Tony. “Stark, I know you love Y/N, but why do you give her shoes she can’t even walk in every time that you pick them out?” She said, picking you up and placing you on the barstool in between Steve and Bucky but next to Tony.
“I like her staying over here instead of talking to the rich assholes in the room.” He said, passing you your drink of choice.
“I’m married to the richest asshole of them all.” You said, sipping at it. “And if they’re such big assholes, why do you invite them to every party you throw?”
“Because us rich assholes have to stick together, sweetheart. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
You grabbed his wrist. “I will not, birthday boy. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
“Ooh, are we starting the gifts early?” He asked, rubbing his hands together childishly.
“You’re not getting your present from me if you get yourself drunk tonight, Tone. I love you, but you’re gonna wanna remember this present.”
Tony gave you a kiss on the forehead. “I won’t touch another drop of alcohol, sweetness. If you say that I’m going to remember this, I’m going to memorize every single detail of whatever your surprise may be.” He told you, before squeezing your hand and walking away quickly.
“Loki?” You asked, leaning to see him better.
“Hold on, brother, it’s not quite late enough to be as drunk as you are. Just wait a little, and then you can have it back.” He said, pulling Thor’s flask out of his hand. “Yes, Y/N?” He asked, turning to you. 
You pulled the flask from Loki’s hand and passed it to Steve. “Don’t drink that too fast, super soldiers.” You told them before turning back to Loki. “You know a sobering spell, right?”
“I do. I should hope that I won’t need to use it tonight, but I have a sobering spell should you need it for your husband.”
“Thank you, Loki.” You said, striking up more conversations with the Avengers, even though you had seen them not even two hours ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Five hours later, since Tony’s parties always ran late into the night, all of the guests had left, and it was just the Avengers back upstairs in the living room of the penthouse.
“Okay, present time?” Tony said, hopefully. 
“Hasn’t gracing you with our presence all night been enough?” Loki asked sarcastically. “Besides, what do you get the man who can buy himself whatever he wants?”
“Yeah Tony, you don’t even have an Amazon wishlist.” Clint said, spinning a drumstick.
Rhodey passed him a box. “You just have to get him something from the heart.” 
“You’re just saying that because you’ve known him since his drunk MIT days.” Bucky said, also sliding a box in Tony’s direction. 
“Oh, honey bear!” Tony exclaimed. “An AC/DC mixtape!” (“What is this, the 90’s?” was said by Peter in the background) “And their newest album!” (“They’re still releasing music?” Peter continued, more than a little drunk.”)
You stood up, “Okay, Pete. Time for bed, buddy. I’ll call May and let her know you’ll be home in the morning after breakfast.” You told him, taking him down to the room you and Tony had specifically set up for Peter for when you couldn’t pry the two of them from the lab with a Hulk. Trust me, you tried. 
Since you had taken off your stilettos hours ago, preferring to just wander around barefoot since you couldn’t sneak another pair of shoes in, it was only Peter who was stumbling down the hall, clinging onto you. When you got to his room, you realized that the only clothes in the drawers were from when this was your room, before you and Tony got together.
“Peter?” You asked softly.
He rolled his head towards you, slurring his words slightly. “Yeah, Mom?”
You smiled, looking fondly at the drunk boy you had come to see as your son. “We’ve gotta get you out of your fancy clothes, but the only clothes in here are mine. Is it okay if I go get you one of Tony’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants?”
“Of course!” He said excitedly. “I might never bring clothes to keep at the Tower if I get to wear Dad’s!” 
You chuckled softly, knowing that was exactly why he didn’t have any here yet. You’d make sure you picked some up from May when you dropped him off tomorrow. “Can you stay awake until I get back?” You asked, knowing he’d be asleep by the time you got back anyways.
“Sure I can!”
“And can you take off everything but your boxers for me, bud?”
“Mhmm!” Peter said, nodding excitedly in agreement. “I’ll start right now for you, Mom!” He started fumbling through it, but got one shoe off before you left the room, walking back upstairs to get some of Tony’s clothes for the boy to wear.
“How is he?” Natasha asked, noting your return.
You laughed. “Very drunk. And without clothes in the room we set up for him, Tone. I’m gonna steal one of your shirts and a pair of sweats for him, ‘kay?”
“Anything for that kid. Did you get him down that easily?”
“He wasn’t out when I left. But he had started taking his shoes off so I could help him into some sleep clothes.” You called from the bedroom, rummaging around in the drawers. “And I’m gonna make him drink some water, and I’ll leave pain pills on the nightstand for him. Also, how the hell did you get him drunk? He has a faster metabolism than most people, he’s fucking Spiderman!”
“That was me.” Clint said, holding a shot glass. “Spider metabolism takes about 4 shots of tequila to overcome.”
Thor added, “And he was only slightly tipsy after that! He quite enjoyed the Asgardian mead that the Captain, Sergeant, and I were drinking!”
“You gave Peter alien alcohol?!” You and Tony exclaimed at the same time.
“It didn’t affect him all that much until the 3rd shot, and by that point he had had shots of rum and whiskey in his system too.” Loki told you, gauging your reactions.
“You mixed alcohol in my kid?!?” Tony exclaimed.
You closed your eyes, feeling a headache coming on just from the sheer stupidity of the Avengers when they’re tipsy. “I’m gonna send May a text that Peter’s sleeping over. And J?” You asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Stark?”
“Will you remind whoever drops Peter off to pick up clothes for him to keep here when he sleeps over?” You asked, quickly making your way back to Peter, knowing now why he was so drunk.
“Of course, Mrs. Stark.” JARVIS said, his voice following you as you moved through the hallways.
“Mom! You’re back!” Peter said, still slurring his words but in his boxers sitting right where you left him.
You walked over to him and passed him the clothes. “I’m back, bud. And I’m so proud of you for doing what I asked. I know that must’ve been tricky in this state.”
“I couldn’t figure out the buttons on my shirt.” He admitted, throwing Tony’s Led Zeppelin shirt over his head. 
“Hey, that’s okay. It happens when you’re drunk.” You passed him a glass of water once he had the sweatpants on too. “Can you drink this for me?”
He took the glass from you and sipped at it slowly. “Sure I can.” He smiled. “This tastes better than what Mr. Barton and Mr. Thor were giving me.”
“This is better for you.” You told him, rubbing his back.
“Mom, I don’t feel so good.”
“What’s wrong?” You asked, still softly rubbing.
Peter bolted towards the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna puke!” He said, leaning over the toilet.
“J, call Tony please.” You said, kneeling beside him and rubbing his back.
Tony burst into the room, “What’s wrong?!”
“Pete feels very nauseous right now.” You explained calmly and softly, in an attempt to calm your husband.
It worked. “Oh, okay.” You stood as Tony knelt with Peter, rubbing his back and sitting quietly with him. “I know you don’t do so well with puke, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Tone.” You told him, kissing his forehead and refilling Peter’s glass. “Get him to drink some more water, maybe it’ll flush it out of his system a little.” 
“Can you tilt your head this way for me, bud?” 
Peter lifted his head and turned it towards Tony. “Sure can, Dad.”
“Drink a little of this for me? It should help you feel better.” Tony said, heart warming at being called Dad.
“Yeah. Okay. Can you help?” Peter tilted his head back a little and Tony slowly poured some water into Peter’s mouth.
“Swallow.” He said.
While the two of them were doing that, you were grabbing a bottle of Tylenol to leave on Peter’s bedside as well as a pair of sunglasses, knowing how bright the tower feels when you’re hungover.
After Tony got Peter to brush his teeth, and drink some more water, you refilled his glass and you both tucked him into bed, kissing his forehead. “Goodnight, kiddo.” Tony said, turning off the lights.
“Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight Dad.” Peter said, snuggling deeper into the covers.
“Goodnight, bud.” You told him, shutting the door softly behind both of you.
As you and Tony walked back upstairs, he had a question for you. “So, what’s my present from you, sweetcheeks?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I very much would.” He said, pinning you lightly to the wall.
“Back to the penthouse bedroom, Tone.” You panted out softly, his cologne overwhelming your senses after not being able to be near him much today. “Please, c’mon, private gift, Tone.”
After you said that, Tony dragged you upstairs, barely allowing you to take off your jewelry before he was sucking hickies on your neck. “Please tell me the gift is you, sweetheart.” He growled against your pulse point.
“Yeah, Tone, it’s me! The gift is me, but you don’t you dare rip this fucking dress.” You cried, tangling your fingers in his hair. Tony unzipped the back of your dress, telling JARVIS to turn on the “Do Not Disturb” protocols until at least 8AM. You hadn’t had nearly as much to drink as everyone else, so you were going to make everybody hangover breakfast and coffee.
Pulling the dress off of you, Tony threw you on the bed, and you bounced slightly towards the headboard. You turned and crawled up towards it, giving him a full view of your ass, and what was written on the lingerie. “Oh, so this is my present.” Tony said, smirking as he captured your lips in a kiss. “I get to have my name across your ass while I’m fucking you. Is that what you want, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” You yelled as he left hickies down your throat and tits. He slipped two fingers in you while marking up your torso, knowing that if you couldn’t take them yet, he’d have lots of fun opening you up to take his cock. “Oh God, Tony, please don’t stop.”
“I would never, sweetheart.” He said, sucking a mark right below your belly button. As Tony kept fingering you, he swirled his tongue quickly around your clit, working you up to the edge even quicker. Tony loved when you came before he was even inside of you.
“Oh, Tony, please- I- fuck, close, Tone!” Your brain was turning to goo, and from previous experiences, you knew Tony was going to fingerfuck you straight through your first orgasm of the night.
You were right. “Cum for me, my sweet Y/N.” He whispered softly in your ear, rubbing your clit quickly with his thumb while he was still fingering you. “Princess, just let go.”
And that was what did it. All the tension that had been building up released all at once, leading you to one of the best orgasms of your life. And Tony fingerfucked you through it, stimulating you even more and working you up to your next orgasm. When he retracted his fingers, though, you let out a small whimper, which caused Tony to chuckle and you to blink your eyes open, not knowing when you had shut them. You watched as Tony stuck his fingers covered in your cum in his mouth and licked them off.
“You taste so good for me, sweetheart. I could eat you out all goddamn day. But I won’t. You know why?” You shook your head. “I wanna fuck this pretty pussy of yours that you have all dressed up for me for my birthday. How lucky am I to have such a loving wife that knows I have everything I want?” He tapped your hips in a way that you knew meant ‘roll over’ and did so.
“What are you gonna do to me, Tone?” You asked softly. You weren’t nervous or anything, you just really liked hearing all the shit that was gonna come out of his mouth. You liked hearing how he was gonna fuck you, and he knew it. As always, he turned the dial to 11.
Pulling you up onto your knees, Tony twisted your head so you weren’t face down in the pillows. “I’m gonna hold you up like this, even though I know your legs are jelly from that orgasm, and I’m gonna fuck your pretty little pussy while staring at my name on your ass. Because you’re fucking mine, right, sweetheart?” He asked, slowly thrusting into you and burying himself to the hilt.
“Oh, God, yes! I’m all yours Tony! Just don’t stop!”
“That’s right. Nobody else’s name is on that ass of yours. Nobody else sees their name on that ass of yours. Mine.” Tony said, lightly biting the back of your shoulder.
You rested your forehead on your hands. “Don’t wan’ nobody else! Just you! Fuckin’ love you, Tony! Never loved anybody like I love you!” You said, having found enough strength to thrust your hips backwards in time with his thrusts.
“Oh, God, Y/N, sweetheart. Fuck, yes. I’m gonna cum. Can I cum inside of you, sweetheart? Don’t wanna wreck this new set of yours already.”
“Don’t wreck it! Just cum in me, Tone!” You screamed in pleasure as you felt him thrust as deep into you as he could, stopping and pulsating. The feeling of him cumming inside of you triggered your second orgasm. 
What you guessed was a few minutes later, but was actually probably just seconds, you heard Tony say, “Make a sound or move something if you can hear me, sweetheart.” You knew you had screamed your voice out, so you did your best to tap the index finger on your dominant hand. “Okay, I’m gonna pull out now, is that okay?” He asked. You tried to nod in response, but had no idea if you had actually succeeded until you felt Tony pull out. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “God, it’s just spilling out of you. That’s so fucking hot, sweetheart. I wish you could see this.”
“Take a picture.” You croaked.
“Okay, sweetcheeks.” Tony said softly. “But after, we’re getting you into a bath and out of this lovely fucking set of lingerie. Next time I’m cumming all over your tits.” He told you, taking a picture and picking you up. JARVIS had starting running a bath at the perfect temperature, as he always did after you two had sex, and Tony carefully placed you on the toilet so you could pee, he was not letting you get a UTI.
“Happy birthday, Tone.” You whispered, snuggling back against his chest once the two of you were situated in the bath with some epsom salts.
He kissed the top of your head softly, “Thank you for making it the best birthday, sweetheart. I love you.”
“I love you too,” you responded, drifting off in the tub, not for the first time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Tony’s arms. This was very unusual since Tony was always up in the lab hours before you woke up. You actually weren’t sure if you had woken up next to Tony since your honeymoon. You rolled over and nuzzled further into his chest, wanting to enjoy this for as long as you could.
“Honey? Are you awake?” Tony’s morning voice resonated against the ear you had pressed against his chest.
“If I say yes, does that mean you’re gonna get up?” You mumbled, really just wanting to snuggle with your husband in bed.
He wrapped his arms tighter around you, “Not if you don’t want to. I like cuddling.”
Of course, since the two of you could never have a moment’s peace, JARVIS started speaking. “Mrs. Stark, you said you were going to make “hangover breakfast” for the Avengers. And they’re all in their rooms, with the blackout curtains shut, whimpering about the amount of light.”
“One morning in bed with my husband, is that too much to ask?” You asked, rolling away from Tony and sitting up.
“Apparently.” Tony said, rolling out of bed to grab clothes for you both.
“J, will you start the coffee machine?” You got up and brushed your teeth before getting dressed in the clothes Tony picked out for you and doing the rest of your morning routine. “Tony?”
He poked his head into the bathroom. “Yeah, hon?”
“Can we have tomorrow morning in bed to cuddle?” You asked, pouting slightly.
“Anything you want, sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked into the penthouse kitchen together. 
You grabbed out everybody’s individualized mugs that Tony had gotten for Christmas last year and set them all out at the table while Tony grabbed the cream and sugar so you could personalize everybody’s coffee for them. Steve took his black, it’s the way he had always drank it, and he wasn’t changing that. Bucky took his with so much cream that you were pretty sure it was actually coffee flavoured cream in the mug. Natasha’s mug had a lid so that nobody could actually see the colour of her coffee, especially since everybody assumed she took it black, but she had the homemade equivalent of a latte in that mug. Clint’s also had a lid because everybody assumed he took his like a latte, but he really drinks it black. He grew up in the circus and has 3 kids. That shit doesn’t need sugar or cream, he’s drinking it to stay alive. Tony and Bruce both drank so much coffee that theirs was essentially black by the end of the day due to refills, but they both start with a decent amount of cream and sugar so that they feel like it lasts them the whole day. Thor has a sweet tooth, that should explain everything about his coffee, sugar but no cream. Loki also has a lid, for while everyone would assume he likes black coffee, there’s a decent amount of cream in there. Wanda and Pietro both take their coffee with a bit of cream and a bit of sugar, no overboard in either direction. Sam didn’t really care, as to him, coffee is coffee, it doesn’t matter what you do to it as long as it still tastes like coffee. And Peter.. you had never seen Peter use his mug for anything but hot chocolate.
“Tone?” You asked, still fixing up Sam’s mug of coffee. “How does Peter take his coffee?”
“Oh, with- J, how does Peter take his coffee?”
“Two cream, one sugar, sir.”
You chuckled, fixing up Peter’s mug in the way JARVIS said he liked. “How did we not know that?”
“I’ve never seen him drink coffee before.” Tony said, wrapping his arms around you while you started frying up some bacon and sausage.
“Me neither. I’ve never seen him use the mug for anything other than those gourmet hot chocolates that he makes here because we can afford your fancy ass caramel.”
Tony hummed in agreement and started swaying while you were still cooking, kissing the back of your head. “Can I have a real kiss, N/N? I haven’t had one all day!” He exclaimed.
“Oh, honey. Did I forget about you this morning?” You asked, teasingly. “Are you gonna die if you don’t get a sufficient number of kisses before breakfast?”
“Yes!” He whined, teasingly. “I’m just wasting away here, can’t you see?”
You chuckled, knowing what would happen if you gave in and gave Tony a real kiss. “You know why I can’t, Tone.”
“No, N/N, you have to either kiss or tell.” He said, kissing just under your ear.
“If I give you a kiss now, you’ll turn it into a full blown make-out session and I’ll burn breakfast.” You deadpanned while flipping bacon. 
“No I won’t! You have no proof!” He said, dramatically.
You reached over and grabbed some eggs out of the fridge, some more greasy protein wouldn’t hurt a hangover. “Tony, that’s what happened last week.”
“I’m a changed man!” Tony exclaimed, pouting and sitting on the counter next to you.
“I hope you haven’t changed too much from the man who fucked my brain out last night, because I would very much like that to happen again.”
“No fucking in the kitchen, Stevie doesn’t like that language.” Bucky said, sitting in front of where you had placed his mug.
“One time!” Steve exclaimed. “And you weren’t even around when I said it, Buck!”
Bucky laughed, sipping at his coffee before raising it towards you in a silent cheers. “News travels fast, Stevie. Now sit down, drink your coffee, and shut up.”
“Alright, gentlemen, calm down. How do you like your eggs? And what do you like in them?”
As everyone trickled in, sat in front of their coffees, and gave you their breakfast orders, they slowly nursed their headaches while you and Tony shared more banter. Peter was the last one to stumble in, wearing the sunglasses you left for him, though his eyes were shut.
“Here, bud.” You said, sliding the coffee across the counter towards him. “How ya feelin’?”
“Like that time Vulture dropped part of a building on me.” He said softly, sipping the coffee you had made him before adding more cream to it. “Thanks for the coffee, Mom.”
You smiled, turning back to the stove. “No problem, kiddo. How do you like your eggs, and what do you like in them?” Receiving the last breakfast order, you started plating up some bacon and sausage, as well as the first few eggs you cooked. “J, add eggs, bacon, sausage, coffee, cream, and sugar to the grocery list, please.” You said, sliding plates to Bucky and Steve. 
“Of course, Mrs. Stark.” JARVIS said, showing the items on a list on the fridge.
“Can I have my kiss now, sweetheart?” Tony asked, pouting on the counter where you left him. 
“Oh, Tone. One kiss?” You asked.
“One kiss, I promise.”
“And I’m not going to burn breakfast?”
“One kiss, I promise.” He repeated.
You shook your head, chuckling again and sliding more plates down the island. “No kisses until there’s nothing left to burn, Tony.” You handed him a plate. “Sit and eat.”
Tony sighed as you kept passing out breakfast to everybody, not sitting yourself until Peter had his plate. “Thank you for the best birthday ever, sweetheart.” He said, giving you his puppy dog eyes.
“You’re welcome, Tone.” You told him, kissing his cheek.
“All that and I don’t even get a real kiss?” Tony complained, stabbing a sausage with a fork. 
You grabbed his cheeks and tilted them in your direction, so he was facing you, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Every birthday will be better than the last. But if you’re real good today, that wasn’t the only present I got you.”
Tony’s eyes widened with the implication. “There’s more?!”
You smirked, kissing him again. “Only if you’re good, Tone. There’s only more if you’re good.”
“Who else did you get?”
“Fuck around and find out.” You said, finally eating your own food and causing Natasha and Wanda to laugh with the implication. 
I am so sorry that it took so long for me to write this, y’all! But it’s finally done, I hope y’all enjoyed that little FRIENDS reference in there, and yeah, I really just hope you liked it.
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morgansunflower · 2 years
Text
Mended
Jason Todd X Wayne! al Ghul! Reader
Bruce Wayne X Talia al Ghul
Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst.
Words:1059
Y/N and Jason go on their honeymoon while grandad Batman & Nana/Talia look after Tyler and Damian Todd
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Bruce's P. O. V
"and then we went to the.." Tyler yawns five minutes later than the previous time he did "I put the sparkler in mom's flower pot and then CA-BOOM!!" he yawns for the third time.
"hmm mm" I turn my head seeing the young red-headed boy rub his little green eyes.
His arms were slouched, while he slowly followed me. It's time for him to go to bed. I lift Tyler into my arms. He put pressure onto my shoulders to try and stay upward. I step into the bat-mobile.
"honesty grandaaaaad bat's I'm not sleeeepy"
I feel his hands slightly weakening as his body begins to feel more tired by the second. I drive to the Bat-cave. I jump out with Tyler asleep in my arms.
"the poor chap already out from a long night of fighting crime" Alfred chuckled "shall I take him to bed sir?" my father figure offered
NO!! "I'll tend to him" I replied, I miss getting to hold a child.
I use the elevator to the Manor. I step through the hallway. I open Jason's old bedroom door. Memories instantly crash into me. Some of him slamming the door in my face and then some of me carrying him to bed. It wasn't until a week ago it seemed to heal some of the wounds that were made between us, when he came back. It's still not the same as before he was taken from me. I move the covers and lay him in the bed. He yawns and rubs his eyes waking from the lack of physical contact.
"time for bed champ" I told him gently rubbing his head.
"ohh..." he stammered, he wanted to say something but couldn't form the words he wanted to say. I want him to feel safe with me.
"go on" I told my grandson.
"well mom would always hold me before I fall asleep and dad would read to me..."
"I see, well if that is what we must do"
I looked under Jason's nightstand and found his favorite book. I noticed a place in the book that had a form of a bookmark. I go to that particular page opening the book. My heart sank as my eyes desperately want to shake. I had to keep from completely losing my emotions. It was a picture of Jason and I, he was smiling and so was I. It was the last picture Alfred had taken of Jason. I clear my throat to push everything I felt further down. "so how are we doing this.. spontaneous?" Jason had asked I replied "serious" he then asked "sexy?" I then repeated "serious". I remember nearly laughing at his remark.
"you ok, Grandad B?" Tyler asked bringing me back to reality.
I softly smile and nod to my grandson. I turn the lamp on and lay beside him. Tyler lays on my chest as I read out loud.
Talia's P. O. V
I hear a soft cry from the nursery. Alfred had prepared the place for the children when he find out my daughter was pregnant. I walk to the crib seeing little Damian crying. I gently shush him with my soft humming. I lift him into my arms and sit in the rocking chair. I gave my infant grandson the bottle to sooth him as he drank the contents. I gently sang a soft melody. He favors Jason in many ways. His small white steak in his little hair, a reminder of what trauma Jason went through. His eyes that reflect his mother's. I have much to be happy for.
Bruce's P. O. V
I lay in my bed with my eyes closed. I cannot stop the memories from pouring into my heart. My little boy was taken, in an instant. Though the picture gave me assurance that he loved me. I was his dad. Maybe he can see me that way again. I hear the door open and close. I feel Talia move into the bed.
"I can hear by your breathing Beloved that you are not at ease. What is wrong?"
"I should have never let him put on that suit Talia" I said in complete defeat my voice breaking
"oh Beloved" she kisses me and rest her head on my chest. I wrap my arms around her "I know that you love Jason as your son, and I do" she runs her knuckles through my hair "we loved him through his pain, and we have our son back.. And I know that pain lingers between you both.. Give it time" she assured her words gave a genuine warmth of comfort that only she could provide.
Y/N's P. O. V
With our bodies touching and legs intertwined. Jason holds me while laying in the bed. A large thick blanket laid on us. He gently ran his knuckles down my face with love in his eyes. I lift my head and kiss him. He chuckled and deepened the kiss. His embrace became tighter. He's mine and I'm his.
"I can't believe you're actually my wife" he said while kissing my neck.
"why? We were kind of inseparable from the beginning" I replied kissing him
"true, but I guess I just always assumed you'd find better than me"
"Jay you know no one could replace you in my heart" I said wholeheartedly. "we have two beautiful little boys who I adore and we have each other"
He smiled, and rested his head on my chest. He laid cuddled next to me filling my heart with warmth. I run my knuckles through his black hair and faint white streak. His breathing was calm and relaxed. It brought me joy to see him so much at peace.
"I sure do miss our little boys" I softly hummed
"yeah I was thinking the same thing" he sighed "but first I'm taking advantage of having you all to myself!"
Jason's P. O. V
My wife and I in the car on our way to pick up Tyler and Damian. I held her left hand. I lift her hand kissing her knuckles. We pull into the Manor. Y/N and I lock arm's as we step inside. I leave her for a moment and open the door. I am instantly taken in by Bruce's embrace. I couldn't believe the instant, the genuineness.
"what the hell?"
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cherryasagiri · 1 year
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Him? Really? Why?
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Pairing: Jason x oc
Summary: Jason had a very important question he needed to ask his wife, and the answer was not something he expected.
previous 🌸 next
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
“Hey, can I ask you a question? Was there someone before me? I mean… before I came back from being dead and all,” Jason asked as he stared hard at his wife. He wasn’t worried about finding out that the mother of his child had been with other people while he was dead. He very much inwardly encouraged her to live her life without him. There was no card to play in the bat family to think of ways to bring the dead Robin back to life, so he would have never wanted his childhood lover to grieve him to the point she would lose out on finding her true love. If there was a way for her to find happiness without him, he wanted her to know beyond the grave that he fully supported her decisions because, to him, the heartfelt smile she donned for him should be shared with someone she could love again.
While Jason was lost in thought, he failed to realize the woman standing before him jumped slightly from the random question, steeling herself hastily before Jason caught on. Her eyes darted around, trying to make sure hers never met his while her brain tried to devise a lie that would make the most sense. It was no secret to the others who lived in the house of the identity of the one other man she had been involved with, but she couldn't handle telling her spouse the truth. Her hands felt damp, the sweat pooling in the middle of her palms from the tight fist she was making. There was no easy way to get out of telling him her embarrassing truth without knowing how he would react when she finally confessed. Nothing about her past relationship was even remotely negative; the man's identity in question bothered her. The jokes, teasing, and slight bullying she would receive all over again flooded her mind as an airy sigh left her parted lips before she finally gave in and gazed into his eyes.
“Haa, yeah. I was sleeping with someone else a year before you came back into my life,” she admitted, her heart racing if just a little bit for a whole other reason. She was praying for a miracle which is never a good thing for her to do because it never happens.
“Who was I–” Before he could ask his question fully, Nafula swiftly interrupted him.
“Don’t ask,”
“But why?”
“You don’t need to know who it is,” Nafula replied, hoping this little inquisition was over. However, with her luck, only a miracle could get her out of this. It was like speaking of the devil, and he shall appear, but it wasn't the devil to show his horns; this was much worse. There had been instances where she was caught up in Scarecrow’s fear toxin, caught off guard by Cobblepot’s strongest goons that left her with a broken rib, and been through twelve hours of screaming through childbirth. But nothing compares to, again, admitting to the identity of a man who had blown her back out to the gods.
As this little conversation was being had, an older male passed through. A fresh batch of coffee filling his ‘Best Dad for Taking Care of an Alien Daughter’ in small enough print to fit duplicates on both sides of the mug, font sitting on top of a blue painted hydrangea bunch that Nafula made for him for father’s day the first year after her daughter was born. It was his favorite cup, not that he would let it be known to his daughter so that he could spare himself of his embarrassment and teasing from his flesh and blood.
The pungent aroma filled his nostrils while calming his tense muscles from the night before, ensuring all his plans for the next couple of days were completely and utterly perfect. It was a day-to-day stress he gladly put on himself if that meant Gotham got to sleep safely for another day. He was thinking about what he would do for the day when a booming vibration suddenly cut through. A vocal sigh passed his lips after immediately realizing it was his noisy firstborn spawn. Before he could reprimand her, Jason’s question left his mouth, sending a heavy shiver up Bruce’s spine. No names were said; however, their conversation had brought up the only person his precious gift from above had ever been with.
“Please don't tell me he's coming here?” he deadpanned in his daughter’s direction, the woman now raising an eyebrow toward her father. Bruce made himself known to the pair when he spoke up while trudging his way over to them. Bruce was worried that the other, other, other bane of his existence was going to make an appearance at his home unannounced. There was nothing he liked about that man, especially for his child. Nonetheless, this wasn't about him and his love life, it was Nafula’s, and he had to respect her decisions. Bruce knew this man would never hurt his daughter, and he brought true happiness back into her life for the first time after Jason’s death, so he tolerated the man.
Jason tilted his head slightly to look at Bruce and his wife effortlessly. There was something that they were hiding, and he hated being left in the dark, especially when it had to do with his wife. She doesn't like it when he hides things from her, so why should she? Jason was getting a bit ticked off the more he thought about it, yet he kept calm because he knew he was putting more work into his brain than he should. “No, dad, he’s not coming… I didnt want to talk about him because I know how you feel about him,” Nafula explained, letting her face relax after a lifetime of holding that accusatory look. “What man are we talking about exactly?” Jason questions, hoping the big bat will spill the beans. “That idiot Boos–” Bruce was quickly cut off when his powered child flew over to him and covered his mouth as quickly as she could. His eyes widened when he had a chance to compute what was happening; the only time he let his guard down was when he was around his children at home, and even then, that was rare.
The hand over his mouth was tight, and the look in her eye was deadly. That's all it took for him to get why she was trying to hide it entirely. A smirk formed on his lips, and Nafula felt it. She grunted slightly, hiding what she wanted to say. Jason watched the interaction and replayed what Bruce had said repeatedly in his head. There was a lightbulb in his head, his eyes moving from Bruce to his wife with a knowing look she caught the second their pupils met. A teasing smirk danced on Jason’s lips, his head spinning with many things he would like to address but could only come up with, “So… you fucked Booster Gold?” he questioned in between laughs, knowing full well the answer to this but needed to hear it from the mouth that kissed that star-studded idiot.
Nafula’s deadly eye contact came back, this time aimed at her husband, who couldn't hold back his fit of laughter. She finally removed her hands from Bruce’s lips with a defeated sigh, her right hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose in slight frustration. There was a crack in Bruce’s tight-lipped grin; watching the interaction between children swelled his heart. As much as he wanted to stay to watch the whole thing play out, he was needed elsewhere, so he turned on his heels and left the pair.
“You must have a thing for complete airheads,” Jason snickered, not letting any of this go now that he knew who it was. He had so many questions.
“Booty is a good guy and really smart, actually. Yeah, he’s carefree and egotistical, but… there was a charm to his words and actions that I… wait, why the fuck am I defending him to you!” she responded in a harsh tone, but that didnt steer Jason away it only egged him on.
“Booty!? Were you calling him Booty?? What kind of pet name is that?” Jason howled, his laughter getting louder and wheezier. He had gasped for air a few times, trying to control his breathing but thinking of the pet name she gave Booster only made him laugh harder, much to Nafula’s chagrin.
“Listen, I thought it was cute, and so did he. He loved it, actually. Made him feel special,”
“I bet it did; he’s just as weird as you are,”
“That also makes you just as weird as us because you love me, and so did he,”
“I guess you’re right… would you fuck him again while I watched?”
“Yes,”
“.................... you’re joking right…. Right?”
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toastedkiwi · 2 years
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Bruce Wayne/Batman and/or Henry Cavill x Vegas Bride!Reader (where they somehow managed to get married while high/drunk) headcanons? I’m fine with Captain Syverson and some other fluffy headcanons.
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months
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Day 18: Sex Pollen - Bucky Barnes
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Summary: It was your first mission out with your mentor, Bucky, but not all goes to plan when you stumble across an old Hydra laboratory and accidentally trigger a trap.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content (kinda), mentor/protege, grumpy/sunshine trope, sex pollen, fingering, begging, crying, rough sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, creampie
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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“Can you stay close to me?”
“Bucky, if I was any closer to you, I might as well be your shadow. Will you chill out, please?”.
All the response that you are given is an exasperated sigh from your team leader, who was directly in front of you, his gun raised and pointing in whichever direction his eyes followed. You were so close to him that the head of his body seeped through his uniform and into your back as you followed his steps, almost like a choreographed dance with the synrosy.
It was technically your first mission today; even though you’d been over comms for Bucky countless times, he finally gave in and agreed that you could join. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you; in fact, he trusted you more than most. It was more due to his intense mentorship and protectiveness that he’d developed for you over the years, which had everything to do with your clumsiness.
Yes, you were an agent, but there were only so many times that you could accidentally hurt yourself before they called in your experience and practice. You were moved to a behind-the-desk job, which pained your heart, but soon, Bucky was your partner, digitally through the headset and then in person, as you begged him daily for training and a chance to prove yourself.
He was reluctant, but you were like an incessant fly, always buzzing around him with that chirpy personality that even managed to draw a smile to his grumpy old - yet handsome - face. The more time he spent with you, the more you could chip away at his heavy exterior and mask, which only hindered your chances of returning to the field again, as the thought of having you so close in the danger zone had him near palpitations.
He blamed it on your clumsy nature, tripping over your own feet or dropping vital machinery, but in truth, Bucky had wanted to prioritise your safety, which was hard when he had a job to do. However, after months of pestering, you wore him down enough to agree that you could attend the Avengers to a sweep of a supposed deserted Hydra base.
“If you continue down this corridor, I can check the rooms”, you say quietly, hardly audibly over a pin drop, but with Bucky’s increased hearing, you knew he could hear.
“Absolutely not; you’re staying with me; we’ve discussed this. We’ll check the rooms together and finish the rest of the corridor”. Bucky’s word was final, so you didn’t argue back, restraining violently to not eye roll at his authoritative tone.
“You two are like an old married couple”, Natasha quips over the comms, which was enough for both you and Bucky to roll your eyes. It was a comment frequently shared with those around you, and it warmed you to hear such pleasantries, and then the realisation that Bucky would never go for someone like you had the sensation of ice coursing down your spine.
“I think you’ll find he’s the old one, not me”, you retort sarcastically as Bucky leads the way into the first room. “This looks like Bruce’s office or something. Do you recognise any of these experiments?”
It was an old, decrepit office laced with dust and thick cobwebs, similar to something from Frankenstein with the number of attempted experiments that seemed littered around the room. Endless stacks of paper, vials of dusky-coloured liquids, and photographs stapled to the walls that were decaying with age.
“No, I don’t recognise any of this, but whatever it is can’t be good news. Stay close and don’t touch anything”. You once more refrain from the eye roll, knowing he means well, but you’re not a child who needs to be reminded to hold their parent's hand all the time. Taking a step away from him, your eyes scanned the various objects, noticing that it was in a language you didn’t quite recognise.
“Thor, I think we have some voodoo stuff here that’s from your neck of the woods”, Bucky announced through his earpiece. 
“You think so?” you ask over your shoulder towards the man with his back to you.
“Yeah, I recognise some of these markings from his hammer”.
“Huh. maybe it’s one of the bases Loki was hiding in; he did like dark and damp places- SHIT!”
To your credit, you hadn’t touched anything or even tripped and knocked something over; potentially, a trip wire or a sensor was trapped in the room, but a light drizzling mist sprayed into your face halfway through your sentence. As you were talking, the concoction settled on your tongue but also seemed everywhere else: your eyes, nostrils, and ears felt wet.
“What? What happened?!” Bucky snapped, standing in front of you in seconds as he assessed you, wiping your eyes.
“I…I don’t know, something sprayed me in the face”. As soon as you’d explained what had happened, Bucky was cradling your face more harshly than you’d have liked, tilting your face in all directions, even sniffing close to see what had covered you, but it had already absorbed into your skin.
Bucky’s eyes were frantically searching over every pore of your face like it would give him answers about what had sprayed you. His gloved finger and thumb holding your chin tightened as he swore. “Fuck! I told you to be careful and stay by my side! Why would you touch anything?!”
Pushing his hands away from your face, you gave him an incredulous gaze, “I didn’t touch anything! I’m not an idiot, so you don’t have to talk to me like I’m one, bucky! Stop- stop trying to touch me, I’m fine,” he had been reaching for your face to examine it again, ignoring your sassy, angry tone. Still, you stepped back out of his reach, becoming frustrated with his lack of trust.
As Bucky’s mouth opened to probably further chastise you, the door ricocheted off the wall as The Avengers swarmed into the uncomfortable small room. Natasha was by your side first, examining your face just as closely as Bucky, but at least she had listened when you explained that you felt completely fine. Tony then scanned your vital signs, which were also fine.
“I told you! It’s probably some mouldy old water or something; I feel fine now can you all give me some space? You’re making it hot in here”. You were fanning your face to try and cool yourself like someone had just turned on the heating, but it was primarily because the small room was full of warm-blooded people.
“Let’s head back out, and we’ve nearly finished the sweep on the North side”, Tony began, the face plate of his suit sliding back into place. “We’ll continue and finish the rest.” He lifted his metal-covered hand and pointed a finger towards Bucky. “Barnes, take her back to the Quinjet, keep an eye on her”.
“No! Don’t send me back to the jet like a child. I told you, I feel absolutely fine!” you quickly tried to rationalise with Tony. Still, he ignored you, hovering off the ground and flying out into the corridor. You looked to the other Avengers with the hope that one of them may find some pity for you, but all you had in response were close-lipped smiles that notified you that there was nothing that they were going to do.
Letting out a frustrated shout, you stopped, admittedly like a child, in the direction you and Bucky had walked down. Even though his steps were silent, you knew he was behind. You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head.
As you returned to the Quinjet, Bucky continued to stay silent as you both sat on opposite sides of the seating bay. Your anger spiked as you shrugged off your jacket, still feeling slightly warm and needing air to reach your skin.
“Where are you going?” Bucky asked as you moved across the jet with determined steps.
“The toilet, or do I need you to hold my hand as I’m doing that too?” you snap, cheeks heating as anger bubbles deep in the centre of your chest. Bucky, for once, looked taken aback by your tone as he shook his head and allowed you to go to the bathroom.
Once inside the small compartment, you rushed to the sink, turned the tap onto its coldest setting and began to scoop it over your skin, sighing in contentment as your skin began to cool down. Pressing your fingers against your face, you felt uneasy with the temperature of your skin, and it was like you were starting to get the flu but also not quite at the heat that concerned you. You decided it was probably from rushing back to the jet after a few minutes of deep breathing.
A rush of guilt settled heavily in your stomach as you thought about how you’d spoken to Bucky. You’d never broken rank and been that rude to him before. Not once had you ever raised your voice or even been angry with him, even through all the times that he’d declined your joining for a mission; it was always for the best, but now, everything just seemed to have escalated. You couldn’t calm yourself down like you were buzzing from the inside out, affecting your temperature and mind.
Three swift knocks on the bathroom door had your head snapping in that direction. “Everything ok in there?” Bucky asked tentatively.
“Yes! Can’t a girl pee without being interrupted?” you snapped, and immediately, you regretted the nasty tone you’d spit out.
There was a pause from Bucky before he continued to speak, but this time, he had lowered his voice in a soft and calming way. “It’s been half an hour, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Sweetheart”. 
Half an hour?! You could have sworn it was only a couple of minutes. Rubbing your hands over your face and shaking away the tension, you nervously opened the door, tentatively looking up at Bucky through your lashes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t want to let you down, and I promise I didn’t touch anything in the lab-”.
Bucky pulled the door open entirely, his eyes roaming over your body to check you were still in one piece before he sighed. “It’s fine, Doll. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok… Are you… ok?”
His blue eyes flicker over your face as he notices that there's something not quite right with you, but all you can manage is a shrug of your shoulders, wiping your eyes that were feeling a little irritated. “I feel mostly fine. I think I need a lie-down, though”.
Bucky looked unsettled by your words but didn’t stop you from walking over to the onboard bunker, where you rolled onto the thin mattress and promptly fell into a deep sleep.
“So, are we just going to leave her here?” Tony sarcastically asked the other Avengers members, who were now watching you sleep.
“No, asshole. I’ll take her”, Bucky grunted, moving past the billionaire to squat beside your body. You’d been in a deep slumber since collapsing onto the bed. Bucky had stayed by your side the entire journey home, which was a fair length, so he was surprised to see you still asleep. Tony had set up the screen to display your vitals, which he watched like a hawk and other than the fact that you weren’t waking, everything remained normal.
The other Avengers didn’t argue with Bucky, knowing how protective he was over you, as they shuffled out of the loading hatch. Bucky shimmied one arm underneath your knees and the other to support your back as he carried your bridal style. You moaned at the disruption, arms circling around his jacket-covered shoulders.
Bucky contemplated taking you to the medical bay for a thorough check, but seeing your peaceful face, he didn’t want to disturb you. He’d stay with you to ensure you were checked as soon as you woke up. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d stayed with you as you slept, as there were many times you’d either fallen asleep on his arm during a movie or gotten too drunk during an Avengers event that he stayed just to make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit.
As he walked through the Avengers headquarters, he ignored the call for a debrief by his teammates and continued until he arrived at your bedroom, booting the door closed behind him.
Your bedroom was just as messy as he had anticipated it to be, stepping carefully over the shoes, clothes and books that you liked to say were carefully placed into piles on the floor, but you’d simply just left them there to clean up another time. Your bed was just as bad with mountains of pillows that you insisted on having, even though Bucky thought it was severely excessive.
Trying to reposition his hold on you, he hoisted you higher to spare one of his hands to throw the numerous pillows you owned onto the floor. In doing so, your forehead rested against his cheek, and you released an unsettled whine on the impact of his skin touching yours.
Bucky froze at the noise, trying to look down at your face, but in his position, he couldn’t see properly as you were thoroughly tucked under his chin. Finally having enough space, he ever so carefully led you out onto the soft mattress.
Your eyebrows were furrowed as if you were having a nightmare. Bucky sat beside you on the bed, counting your breaths and frowning when he noticed that you were breathing more rapidly than you had been when he was in his arms.
Sweat began to gather along your temple, causing your hair to stick to your forehead, which he quickly moved to move away. As the tip of his fingers connected with your skin, many things seemed to happen simultaneously.
For one, you released a deeply pained groan as you curled your body into a ball on your side, beginning to breathe in quick succession like you were hyperventilating.
“Sweetheart?” Bucky asked with rising concern, now cupping the side of your face with his flesh hand, but this seemed to trigger the pains enough that you awoke.
Your eyelids fluttered open just to clamp shut again, squeezing as you cried in unbelievable agony. Your skin was burning as if all your nerves had been individually set on fire, causing sweat to come to the surface of your pores drenching your clothes, which was still mostly your uniform.
“It hurts. It’s too hot”, you whimpered, lower lip wobbling as eyes effortlessly tracked down your cheeks. With trembling fingers, you attempted to undo your trousers, but the stabbing pain in your abdomen caused you to curl further into a ball like you were trying to shield your stomach from anyone touching it.
“Let me help. We need to get you to cool down. JARVIS, inform the medical bay that we need some assistance”, Bucky shouted Tony’s AI that ran throughout the building.
As Bucky managed to undo the button to your trousers, JARVIS responded with news that had Bucky’s heart almost stopping. “They are aware of the situation as Mr Stark has requested that I record her vitals from returning to Avengers headquarters. You are both officially in quarantine until they can find out what it is that was sprayed and affecting her”. 
The sound of the bedroom locking echoed louder than any of your sobs as Bucky cursed, running up to the barricade and attempting to break out. “You can’t just lock us in here! She’s going to die, Stark, you piece of shit! Open the door!”
“Bucky!” you cried pathetically, still attempting to remove your clothes even though all that remained was your t-shirt and underwear. Bucky didn’t immediately rush back to you as he removed his jacket, giving him more freedom to swing his metal arm back and punch his way through the bedroom door, but all it did was bend; it still wouldn’t open.
“Fuck!” Bucky shouted, seething with unending rage as he rushed back to your side, helping to pull the shirt over your head. “Christ Doll, your skin is warmer than mine. Come on, I’m going to carry you to the bathroom; we need to cool you down”.
Bucky carefully carried you to your en suite bathroom in the same bridal style as before. He tried not to grunt at how warm your body was against his flesh arm as he carefully placed you into the bath, but as he tried to move away to turn on the shower, you screamed out, grabbing onto his arm to keep him close.
“Don’t leave me; it feels good to have you close, please!” Bucky frowned, not entirely understanding what you meant, as surely his higher-running body temperature didn’t feel good when you were burning up so significantly.
“I need to turn the shower on. I’ll be two seconds, and I’ll be back, I promise”, he explained and then didn’t wait for your response as he pried your nimble fingers off your bicep. As soon as some of him didn’t touch your skin, the symptoms worsened.
Bucky flinched at the pitch and volume of how you screamed. He scrambled to reach over the bathtub to switch on the shower head high above the wall and hastily turned the temperature down until cold water was running out.
“Sweetheart, you need to move further under the water; please work with me here. You’ll feel better, you just need to move for me”.
Your whole body was shaking with such force that you found it difficult to suck in air as the heat of your skin was the last of your worries. The pain in your abdomen had turned into pure agony, and if you were to describe it, it was almost like you were cramping, waves of stabbing pain but exaggerated to a level that made it impossible to breathe, think, or even want to survive. It was so severe that you couldn’t hear what Bucky was begging because you were desperate to try and hold your abdomen as it would in some way ease the pain, but not only this, your body was reacting in an extreme way to try and fight the unknown sensation coursing through your veins.
As if to relieve the cramps, your cunt produced an obscene amount of fluid to the point that it was dripping out of your hole and pooling beneath where you sat. If Bucky turned off the shower, you’d probably appear just as wet with how much of your juices were coming out.
“Fuck this”, Bucky whispered under his breath as he failed to get you to move by yourself. Awkwardly, due to the limited space, Bucky climbed into the bath, hoisting you forward to sit behind you and force your body further under the cold water. This, in turn, means that he began to get soaked, including the tactical gear he still wore on his legs, his combat boots and the black t-shirt. He didn’t care though, not when you were deteriorating so significantly.
Bucky put it down to the water, but as soon as he was in the bathtub, his body pressed against yours and arms wrapped around your waist so that the bare skin of his arm and metal touched yours, the screams reduced to stuttering whimpers.
Your head rested back on his shoulder, out of the way of the flowing water, but as your forehead turned and met his chin, you turned further to nuzzle closer.
“More”, you whispered, fingers digging into his forearms to hold him closer.
Bucky readjusted your body so that it sat fully between his thighs. “More what, Doll?” he asked gently, his thumb rubbing in circles along your rib cage. It was only now that he contemplated that you were in your underwear, but it was an emergency, even though some part of him deep down was awakening in some deep-seated emotions he’d been trying to keep locked away.
For the first time since you’d been in pain, you responded to his voice by turning your head slightly but only to rest your lips against his neck. “More!” It was like a siren was sounding through your mind, and the sensation of Bucky’s skin against yours was quietening it to a soft buzz; even the cramping had eased somewhat to a dull ache.
Bucky frowned, confused by your demands, but he squeezed his arms around you further, deciding that maybe it was the comfort that was helping you.
“It hurts”, you sobbed against his neck, “wanna feel more of your skin”.
“My…my skin?” Bucky asked, completely confused by your request and deciding that you’d probably entered the delirious stage of whatever illness you were experiencing.
“Mr Barnes? Are you there?” came a voice from the speakers in the ceiling.
“JARVIS? Is help coming?” Bucky asked with hope pleading in his voice.
“No, sorry, Mr Barnes, but we have an update. It seems that Mr Odinson has read through some of the markings found in the footage taken from the lab. The mist sprayed was, in fact, from Asgardian origin. Mr Odinson informs me that it is most likely planted there by Mr Laufeyson as a trick he has played many times in their lifetime.”
A prank? It sure didn’t look like a prank with the way you were trembling and crying in Bucky’s arms. “So what the hell is it? How do we stop this from getting any worse?”
“This is of a delicate matter, Mr Barnes, so forgive me. Mr Odinson informs me that the chemicals used in the mist are an aphrodisiac used during specific parties in Asgard to increase the user's arousal. Still, due to the amount of time that this substance had been left in this hydra facility, it has caused the ingredients to age and the symptoms to increase in intensity. However, Mr Odinson has reassured me that the symptoms should reduce if you were to consummate”.
Bucky was speechless as he looked down at your precious, unwell body in his arms. “You can’t be fucking serious”, he’d meant to shout, but all that came out was a doubtful whisper. “What would happen if we left her? Would the symptoms lessen? She doesn’t seem to be in as much pain when touching my skin”.
“Unfortunately, after some time, the symptoms will reduce. The chemicals used are designed to last as long as possible, and as they are all out of date, Mr Odinson is unsure how long this may last, but with her vitals as abnormal as they are now, it is unwise to leave her. Mr Stark has suggested that if you cannot fulfil the role of consummation, then he would find someone who could”.
Bucky’s reaction to Stark's comment was to shout in rage, and he could picture him now smiling at his sarcastic comment. There was no way he was letting anyone else touch you. “What if she doesn’t want that? I’m not touching her if she doesn’t want-”
“I do”, you gasp whilst still resting your face on his neck, calming your cries enough that you could hear JARVIS. “I want it so bad; I need the pain to go away. Please help me Bucky”.
Whether it was the way that you begged him for the intimate act or the thought of potentially what was happening, Bucky regretted to say that his cock twitched in the confines of his underwear as he sat up further. “Sweetheart, do you understand what’s being asked? To do this-”
“I want you to touch me, Bucky; I don’t need to tell you how long I’ve wanted this. I know you know how I feel, but please, I can’t feel like this anymore; it hurts everywhere”.
Bucky’s eyes glazed over. All the time of knowing you, he had somewhat of an inkling of the shared feelings. Still, it was firstly unprofessional of him to act on any feelings, but his self-conscious bias of being undeserved of love due to his past as the Winter Soldier stopped him further.
However, now, you were led out before him, ready to live the dreams and fantasies he’d been stuck on for so long, but what’s worse was the pain you were experiencing. It seemed he took too long to answer as he could feel the shift of the heat radiating from you once more.
Your back arched as your fingers delved between your legs, cupping your mound as the pain increased; this time, it wasn’t just the cramps but also white-hot tingles beginning in your clit, over every little sensitive nerve that ran throughout your core.
“Please help me!” you cried, tears lining your eyes.
Bucky had to decide then and there if he would potentially watch you suffer with unimaginable pain or help in the only possible way. He’d agreed, had from the second Jarvis had suggested it, knowing that he couldn’t lose you.
Sitting up slightly, Bucky reached behind his head to pull the black t-shirt off and onto the floor, the wet material squelching on impact. With his chest bare and kissing the skin of your back, you sighed in relief, but the throbbing between your thighs didn’t cease.
“Off, I need these off!” you referred to your underwear, the bra and panties restraining the areas that hurt you the most. Using his metal hand, bucky quickly tore through both garments and discarded them onto the floor to join his shirt.
The sound of relief that you made caused his heart to beat with a more affectionate rhythm as he looked down at your now naked body. The shower continued to coat you with cool water that glistened off you. Your nipples were the first thing that he noticed, impossibly hard and aching to be touched, and it seemed he was reading your mind as you grabbed his metal hand and used it to cup the squishy mound, directing his thumb and forefinger to pinch the sensitive nub.
You released a heavenly cry, back arching and thighs clamping shut at the lightest of touches. With his warm hand, he did the same to your other breast as he carefully squished both in his palms before rolling your nipples between his fingers.
“Yes! Feels so good, just like that”, you beg, eyes still shut, but your head had rolled back onto his shoulder, giving him the space to respond to his desire of gently kissing the column of your throat. Even this sparked more moans from you, needing to feel the plumpness of his lips, needing the electrical tingles that came from his touches to continue.
The kisses were soft, like he was scared to touch you, but as your sounds of pure elation continued, so did his confidence as his mouth opened, applying wet, open-mouth kisses to your skin.
As if on instinct, responding to these touches, your hips began to rotate, pushing down harder against his groin until Bucky was moaning in pleasure.
“More, touch me more”. Bucky responded to your demands by smoothing his flesh hand down your abdomen, feeling the skin taunt, reacting to him. He moved over your mound as he watched closely from over your shoulder. This was when he felt it, the wetness that was continuing to be produced and pour out of your cunt. Even though the shower was still coating you, the substance was different, verging on feeling slimy, more slippy and seemed to cover everywhere from the waist down.
Bucky contemplated licking his fingers to taste you, especially as his mouth filled with saliva with the need pulsing through him. Still, it wasn’t about him, so he continued lower until his fingertips were parting your labia.
The second his middle finger stroked your clit, it seemed a wild animal took over you like you knew how close you were to receiving what you truly wanted but not quite going at the speed you wanted.
One flick of his middle finger against your swollen, throbbing clit was all you allowed before you were turning in his arms, pushing his arms away momentarily as you raised onto weak knees.
“Need you now. I can’t wait; it hurts so much Bucky”. As you explained your reasonings, your shaking fingers were reaching for the waist of his tactical trousers, trying to undo the belt but grunting when you struggled to do so. Bucky thankfully helped you then, ignoring the evident trembling in his fingers from all of the adrenaline as he unfastened his belt, button and zipper.
With this new freedom, you were able to reach inside the space and grasp his hard dick, pulling it out of the confines of his clothes. You marvelled at it for a single second, enjoying the softness of the skin but the firmness of the shaft, the bulging veins and tip that was bulbous and aching to be stroked. It was like your prize, your pot of gold at the end of the tunnel, and you needed it inside of you right that moment.
Seeing and hearing your desperation to be as quick as possible, as the cramps continued to pulse through your abdomen, Bucky quickly grabbed your hips, pulling you over his lap to straddle him, even with the awkwardness of the squished space in the bathtub.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as you lowered yourself. Neither you nor Bucky had ever experienced anything like it. The agony catapulting through your veins completely shifted to one of pleasure, like a switch had been flicked throughout your body as you took inch after inch of his delicious cock. Bucky, on the other hand, was having to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cumming, but he did moan in an animalistic way. He’d never been inside a cunt that was so perfect before, so deliciously warm and unnaturally soaked; you squeezed his cock in pulses that he soon realised was the thump of your heart.
“That’s it, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky couldn’t help but praise, wrapping his arms around your back to provide further support.
As your body naturally seemed to adjust to the size of his cock, you didn’t waste any time before beginning to ride him with the help of Bucky’s strong arms.
The shower still coated you both in refreshing cold water for the heat, devouring the two of you. Bucky is still wearing his tactical trousers and boots, and you are completely nude and riding him like your life depended on it. Well, it did, in a way.
Up and down, you bounced, your tits jumping on your chest, which caused your pebbled nipples to rub against his, giving extra stimulation. You were so incredibly out of breath with the momentum of fucking him, but you didn’t stop, only occasionally softening the bouncing to a soft roll which always caused Bucky to moan and squeeze the cheeks of your arse together.
In no time at all, you were finding your peak, cunt pulsing dangerously tightly around his cock as you came, face hiding on his shoulder as you slumped against him for a second. Bucky thought this would be over, that he would have to carry you to bed and hope you felt better soon, but then he began to feel the wetness flowing around his cock and the throb returning. Shortly after, you were whimpering.
“It hurts again, please Bucky, I need you again”.
Bucky didn’t need telling twice as he thrust his hips up to snap into yours, causing your delicious moan to echo around the room. He needed to hear it again, so he repeated the action, but it was difficult to find any sort of leverage in this position, so with his metal arm positioned beneath your arse, he supported your weight and stood. His boots were now the objects to be squelching as he moved towards the shower wall.
There, he pushed your back against it and began to fuck you with deep, fast penetrations. Your head fell back against the tiles, nails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades as you didn’t want this pleasure to end.
“Harder, Bucky fuck me harder!” you cried out, knowing he was still holding back. Bucky grunted, shifting so that both of his hands were beneath your arse cheeks, holding you more securely so that he could fuck you without any restraint.
Each thrust had you almost blacking out; they felt so good. The tip of his cock smashing into your cervix, which any other time would have potentially hurt, but for now, it was just what you needed.
You came again, spluttering and quivering from your mouth and cunt as he helped you over the edge. However, once more, the pains returned.
Bucky had once thought that his increased libido due to the super serum was a hindrance, but for the only time in his life, he was thanking whatever asshole had experimented on him for this moment.
His trousers and boots had been removed as he had carried your dripping body out of the shower when he realised your temperature remained low if he was fucking you. Into the bedroom, he continued his impressive and thorough fucking. Pushed onto the bed on all fours, in the spooning position, even missionary, and he wouldn’t change positions until you were a cumming bumbling mess. Wherever he decided to bend you over, it was always him on top; your legs were shaking too much to support your weight anymore, but he didn’t mind, not when he could take full control and draw orgasm after orgasm from you.
After god knows how many orgasms, Bucky finally couldn’t edge himself anymore and came with a gruff moan against your collarbone from where he lay over you, his seed seeping into your swollen hole, warming and massaging internally. This finally seemed to settle you, like it was the one missing ingredient your body needed, as you slumped onto the bed without any more cries of pain.
Bucky collapsed next to you, pulling your exhausted, limp body on top of his, your face resting on his chest as you both tried to calm your breathing.
He thought you’d fallen asleep, but then your face was tilting up to look at his, which, in turn, he looked down to look at yours. Even though you looked thoroughly exhausted, he could see that you were beginning to return to your usual self as you smiled so gently that it caused his heart to beat harder. Something you could hear as your ear rested over his heart. Tilting your head up further, your lips caressed his before Bucky could contemplate what you were doing.
The kiss was light and delicate, and it finally dawned on Bucky that this was the first kiss shared between the two of you, having been so distracted with fucking your brains out that he thought kissing would be too intimate. Neither of you said anything, just continued to smile before sleep finally captured your conscious minds.
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i-cant-sing · 4 months
Note
I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.
No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.
Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.
Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.
Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).
The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"
And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.
You didn't like either nickname.
Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.
Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.
And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.
Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.
Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.
"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"
After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.
The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.
It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"
Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.
Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.
You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.
You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.
It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.
"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."
She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.
She died on the spot.
Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.
She wasn't a fucking Wayne.
If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.
But you didn't.
When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.
"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"
You sighed. Might as well get this over with.
You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.
"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."
Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"
"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."
"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.
"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.
"But I don't want you to move-"
You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"
Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.
"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"
Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"
"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.
-
They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.
He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.
Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.
"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.
"What now?"
"Where are you going?" Tim asked.
"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.
"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?
"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.
"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.
You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-
They were all dead serious.
"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.
"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.
"Bruce-"
"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."
"I'm fine-"
"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."
You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.
Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.
After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.
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alyakthedorklord · 8 months
Text
Bat Poker Face Training
Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, and Jason all crammed into someones room, with a kidnapped Duke sitting awkwardly with them, kinda scared.
Duke: “Uh… what’s going on?”
Steph, completely blank faced and standing ominously in the corner: “It has come to our attention that you require training.”
Duke: “Bruce is already teaching me really well-“
Jason, also blank faced: “That’s bat training. This is robin training.”
Cass, carefully but without a single emotion: “Sibling training.”
Dick, face just as blank as all his other siblings: “It’s much more fun.”
Duke, freaked out by the empty faces: “Am I being hazed?”
Jason: “Eh, maybe. Scared?
Tim, not giving Duke a second to reply: “Yes, he is. It’s written all over his face. And while its okay to be scared, sometimes hiding your true emotions in the field is a matter of life, death, and secret identities.”
Dick: “You’re going to be flustered. Humiliated. Terrified. Angry. Relieved. Your vigilante ID dragged through the mud in front of you as a civilian. Someone worried about your civilian ID and you need to keep them away.“
Tim: “Not just as a Bat, but a Wayne. Some dinosaur at a gala is going to say the most out of pocket thing you’ve ever heard in your life and you’ve just got to stand there.”
Duke: “So that’s the reason you’re doing the creepy thing?”
Steph: “Yes Duke. You need to have a poker face that Even Superman can’t break. That even a Fifth-dimensional Imp can’t crack! And that is the purpose of our training tonight!”
Duke, getting the program now: “Okay. I’m ready.”
Jason, allowing a creepy grin to slide over his face: “Don’t be so sure. Because what we are about to show you… it has broken Batman.”
Dick: “Damian is too innocent to see it, which is why he isn’t here.”
Steph: “If you can handle this, you can handle anything.”
Tim, tapping on his computer, chanting under his breath: “the horrors, the horrors, the horrors…”
Duke, terrified of what Tim is about to pull up, on the edge of his seat wondering what on earth can shake the Bat of Gotham, what the family considers too awful for thier arguably LEAST innocent member to see, what vile images he’s about to be shown…
Tap. The screen lights up white.
Duke: “No.”
Jason, grin widening: “We’ll be reading this aloud, for your entertainment.”
Duke, trembling and inching towards the door: “No.”
Steph, vice grip on Duke’s arm: “There’s no escaping it, Signal. This is your mission- to stay completely pokerfaced through Real Person Fanfiction of us- the Batfamily. And co, of course.”
Duke, sobbing: “Please, why… why would you do this to yourselves… oh god, is that… is that… is that Kate with Bruce? She’s a lesbian! And his cousin!”
Steph: “They don’t know that, Duke. They know nothing. And the depths of a human imagination is comparable to the depths of the ocean… there’s some weird shit down there.”
Tim, without a single emotion on his face, least of all mercy: “I had to sit through Young Justice fawning over Dick and Bruce. Do you know what they said? About my own father figure? Right in front of my salad? I was lucky I was wearing a mask. I cried, and I cried in silence. They knew NOTHING, because I showed nothing. This is what you must achieve.”
Jason: “I’ve had to listen to criminals talk about what they’d do to the ‘Prince of Gotham’ and not twitch. I’ve had to listen to both goons and civilians play fuck marry kill with our vigilante identities and not move a muscle. I know this feels like overkill, but trust me, it’s not.”
Dick: “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it mostly PG. Tim? Begin with the wildly out of character and aggressively heteronormative Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman love triangle. Then maybe we’ll work our way up to slash readers and…” shudders in horror, “…batcest.”
Duke: “NOOOOOOOO!!!”
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sanguineterrain · 8 months
Text
sunset anew | dick grayson
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Summary: You're a little nervous to become the Mrs. Grayson. Luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. 
Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader 
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings/tags: wedding, anxious reader, the batfam actually gets along, fluff!! (dick is my wife.)
If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡
the divider
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Contrary to popular belief, Gotham isn't a complete eyesore. 
Sure, it's no vacation spot, and it's probably not the ideal place to settle down. But there are beautiful parts within the grunge. 
Your wedding planner had shown you multiple locations, from Napa to the Bahamas. Bruce had insisted cost was no problem.
But that wasn't what made you choose Gotham. 
Your forearms rest on the polished stone-top railing that surrounds the rooftop of the nicest hotel in the city. Thirty-two floors, all rented out for you. 
You look down at the tiny cars and people below. Your heart swoops. 
Your heels are in one hand. The sun crests the horizon; soon, yellow will melt into buttery orange and pink. It’s the first sunset you knew. The only sunset you know. And it’s the same one you saw the first time you met your almost-husband.
You'd come up here so you wouldn't miss it. Just this one time.
“Found her!”
You jump as the roof access door opens. Damian and Duke walk out. Duke gives you a warm smile.
"Jesus, you guys," you say, hand on your chest. “Way to scare a girl.”
“Sorry. You look really nice,” Duke says, smoothing his bowtie. 
Damian crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed.
“Frightening you is the least of our concerns. We thought you’d run. Which would be understandable, considering the family you’re marrying into, but Father spent a lot renting the hotel. Plus, Grayson would’ve been inconsolable, and extremely annoying.”
“Dude,” Duke says, elbowing Damian. “Chill out. It’s not like she was actually going to leave him at the altar.” He squints at you. “Were you?”
“No! I wasn’t going to leave him at the altar, oh my God.”
Damian nods. “Good." He taps his watch and speaks into it. "Grayson, our work is done. Come to the roof.”
Duke gives you a wave and they wordlessly leave the way they came. You sigh and start to slip your heels back on. There’s some whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and Damian shouts “no!” before it’s silent. 
You have one heel on when Dick emerges.
He’s unfairly handsome in his tux, hair somehow both neat and tousled. He also has what looks to be Damian’s tie wrapped around his eyes. You step out of your heel, unsure.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."
"It’s okay, baby. Why are you blindfolded?"
"Bad luck to see the bride, duh."
You can't help your idiotic grin at that. "I think it'll be fine, Gray. You didn’t have to take his tie.”
"Maybe you haven't met my family; we're not known for our good luck streaks.”
"I'm madly in love with you,” you say, feeling gooey.
Dick beams, and you nearly forget about the sunset altogether. 
"I'm madly in love with you too." 
You kiss him and he blindly returns it, following your lips even after you step back. You cluck your tongue and nudge him away. He obeys, though not without sliding his hand onto your waist and tugging you away from the roof. You follow because he's such a worrier.
Dick reaches for your hand and squeezes. 
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah. Sorry I disappeared. I didn’t know the calvary would be sent after me.”
“Yeah, uh…” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Again. I got worried.”
The guilt sinks its claws deeper. You frown and touch his cheek. 
“I would never leave you at the altar, Dick.”
“I know! I know that. They’re idiots; don’t listen to ‘em, whatever they said."
You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again. He squeezes your wrists and you can feel the relief rolling off him in waves, as much as he tries to hide it. 
“Was my absence noticeable?” you ask.
"Just to us. Don’t worry about it. The Wayne family are professional crowd entertainers."
"I take it Bruce is doing card tricks?"
"Yep,” Dick says. “He’s pretty good too. Might retire the suit." 
You laugh. "Sorry I'm missing it."
"Trust me, you'll get your fill soon."
“We can go down now,” you offer, even though you’re still waiting for that sunset. 
He shakes his head. “There’s no rush.”
You smile and rest your head on Dick's shoulder. He accepts you instantly and wraps his arm around your waist.
"You feel really beautiful," he says. 
"Charmer."
"I'm serious!"
"I know. That's why I'm so damn sweet on you, Gray."
"I've got a shot with you, then?" he asks. 
"Oh, big time." 
He nuzzles your neck. You breathe in his scent: wine from earlier, detergent, the hair gel he uses to effortlessly capture the bed head look. 
"We didn't have to do this today, you know,” he says, voice vibrating through you. 
You pick your head up in alarm. 
"What're you talking about?" 
"If-if you're getting cold feet, I mean," he adds. "Second thoughts. We can always reschedule."
"Dick, no, I'm not getting second thoughts. I want to marry you today. I will marry you, okay? We've been together for almost four years."
"So? You know how long Batman and Catwoman have been skirting around each other? We've all got a wager going. Including Alfred!"
You snort. "Okay, well, excuse me if I don't want your family to bet on how long it's going to take us to marry."
"Afraid that ship's sailed."
"Of course it has."
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. His arms drape over your hips. You trace the shape of his lips with your index, up his Cupid's bow and up the tip of his nose. Dick has such a lovely nose. You've always thought so. 
“So who bet that I’d actually made a run for it?”
“That feels like a trick question,” he says. 
“Jason?"
“Jason adores you, actually. He didn’t doubt your loyalty once.”
“Damian had his doubts." 
“Damian's thirteen, he doesn’t know shit.”
You snort and kiss his cheek. “Well, I forgive him. He was protecting you, that’s all.”
"If it helps, everyone else was certain of your loyalty," Dick says, letting you paw at his face. “Myself included.”
"That does help, actually.”
Dick stops your hand in its journey and rests your palm on his cheek. 
"What were you thinking about?" he asks quietly. 
You stiffen a little. "Nothing. Just needed some air."
"You sure?" 
You know what he's doing: feeling your pulse to see if it changes, listening to your breathing, watching if your shoulders tense. He's a detective first, and a damn good one. 
You slump in defeat. 
"What if I'm not… good at this? At being… us?”
"What?" Dick asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Of course you’ll be good at it. The real worry is me, babe. I mean, you're incredible. I'm the one who runs around in spandex at night." 
"Gray, I'm serious," you say, resting your head on his heart. "All those people who’ve been watching us, waiting for the future Mrs. Grayson to slip up. I just—I can't help but wonder if it's prophetic. I wonder if maybe you deserve more." 
"Hey. Now I can't predict the future. But even if I could, I don't believe there is a timeline out there where I could ever want or need anyone but you. And you're not alone in this, you know? I'm scared too. I'm terrified I'm putting you in danger. Of fucking up completely. But I also know that sometimes… we get good things, you know? It's not all doom and gloom. I mean, you being in my life is proof of that." 
God, he always knows how to make your heart ache just right. 
"I really want us to work," you whisper, clutching his suit coat. "I just don't wanna let you down, Gray." 
"Baby," Dick says, curling around you. "Sweetheart, where did this come from? What makes you think that? You've never let me down, not once. I love you. It's okay if you feel like you don't know what you're doing, 'cause I don't know either." 
You reach to untie the tie. Dick lightly grabs your hand, but you continue to tug anyway. 
"Wait, babe—"
"Dick, it's okay. I want to see your eyes. Please?" 
He lets you pull it off. He squints at the light, adjusting. Then his gaze drops to you and his lips part.
"Wow," Dick says, hands sliding up your arms. 
You smile. "Like it? Selina helped me pick the dress, so it's all thanks to her."
"Fuck, baby. I wanna marry you right now. Screw everyone down there. Let's elope."
You laugh, combing back his hair with your fingertips and tucking loose strands behind his ears. 
"Gray, you know we can't do that. What about Bruce? He'd be devastated and more than rightfully pissed."
He shrugs. "So what? I'm the favorite, I can get away with it."
"Well, what about Alfred? You'd break his heart."
Dick pauses, mulling that over. You kiss his chin. 
"Damn it," he says. "You're right. I couldn't do that to him. He's arguably more excited about our wedding than we are." 
"Mmhm. But I appreciate your attempt to be spontaneously romantic," you say, smiling. 
Dick tugs you closer still, rubbing your back. 
"I would elope," he says. "If you really wanted to. You could convince me to do just about anything. Even if it unleashed Alfie's wrath."
"Don't tell me that," you chide playfully. "You'll give a girl all sorts of notions." 
"Oh, I'm counting on it."
Dick starts to kiss up your neck and you happily let him, eyes slipping closed. It's good, until—
THUMP!
You jump. Dick immediately pushes you behind him. 
The roof access door swings out so hard it slams against the wall. Jason glares, bowtie already loosened. 
"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna miss your own wedding, dumbass!" He nods at you. "Hey, future sis. Looking good." 
"Thanks, Todd." 
"Mm. Everything okay?" 
You smile. "Everything's wonderful."
"Yeah, I'm okay too, thanks," Dick says, scowling. 
"I know you're fine, idiot. Now come put a ring on it before Alfred hunts you down himself." 
Jason turns on his heel, shaking his head. "Responsible one, my ass…"
You look at Dick, grinning. 
"Seems like we should go do the marriage thing," you say.
"Seems like." He squeezes your hip. "Do you feel better?"
"Yeah, Gray. I do. Thanks. I love you."
"Love you too, baby. Let's go marry the hell out of each other." 
The sunset has morphed into a violet night. But you don't mind that you missed it; you know there will be countless sunsets to come. 
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timmyyyturner · 6 days
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Dm's: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader
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TW: Alcohol.
jasontodd: I'm in love with you.
y/nl/n: i literally have no idea who you are.
It started a few months ago when you were followed by some random guy on Instagram. He had a racking of 28 Million followers and you were just a girl with 2K posting GRWM's and make up tutorials.
jasontodd: you looked so pretty in your livestream like MARRY ME TF??? ♡ liked by y/nl/n
y/nl/n: thank you, baby ♡ liked by jasontodd
You didn't get why you were so special.
y/nl/n: *voice memo* I'm serious like is there a reason you think I'm soooo pretty? ♡ liked by jasontodd
jasontodd: Damn. Even your voice is hot.
jasontodd: I'm sorry for inhaling the same oxygen as you🙏
y/nl/n: LMAO
It was kinda cute, kinda stalkery. Every single thing you posted he liked, seconds after. Praising you like you were an absolute goddess. At first you thought maybe it was a fake account but no, he was the real deal (he sent you a picture of his ID with blurred out details). When you Googled his name, you didn't expect his adoptive dad to be the BRUCE WAYNE. You might not be Wayne obsessed but everyone in Gotham know who Bruce Wayne was.
jasontodd: You busy??????
y/nl/n: no, why?
It was late almost 3 in the morning and you'd been occupied by messaging some guy who slid into your dm's six months ago. You were surprised when a incoming video call notification popped up on your phone. You were hesitant to but answered it. "Hello?" His camera was moving a lot but it was quite on his side, you could hear how heavy his footsteps were. You were laying in bed cozied up holding your pillow in your arms, another propping up the phone.
"Gimme a second." You watched him set the camera up in his bathroom, toothbrush hunging from his mouth. "There." He continued brushing his teeth. "Where are you going dressed so handsomely?" He snickered. "Well, pretty lady. It's not where I am heading but where I've been. I just got home from a friends after party."
"Probably using the art of back bending to bring home chicks?" You tilted your head. "Unless the chick was you, pretty, Ion want her near me." You smiled, He yawned causing you to do the same. "Dick is making me brush my teeth cause I threw up in his car and now my breath stinks." You nodded, listening to his little rant. "He's getting me a bucket so I don't choke on my vomit in my sleep, how many people do you think died like that?"
"Well-" You attempted to answer but he cut you off unintentionally by throwing up off screen, thankfully before returning to the screen, rinsing his mouth and rebrushing his teeth. "Who's Azealia Banks? Is she a influencer?" You smiled. "She's in the music industry, a real controversial person." He hummed.
"Who are you talking to?" Jason picked up his phone. "My girlfriend and you can't see her cause she's mine, your brain will hurt with beauty." Jason kissed the screen before you heard Dick approach him. "C'mon Jay get in bed now."
"No." You watched Dick attempt drag Jason— who was throwing lowsy kicks and punches at Dick— to bed. You giggled watching the camera angle change in the hands of drunk Jason before the phone fell somewhere. "Get. In. Bed."
"No." It was funny hearing Jason have an actual sibling bond. "Fine, I'll just call in the big guns. ALFRED!" You could hear Jason mumble a 'fine' before a ruffling of blankets as he got in bed. "NOT ON YOUR STOMACH!" Dick yelled, picking up the phone, looking at you. You waved at him sweetly. "Jason, there's no way you pulled her. She's so pretty and nice and you're... Jason." Jason snatched the phone frowning. "I don't like you." Jason laid on his side, Dick was on his way out of the room before turning to Jason to say something. "Hey, Y/n, do you wanna get married tommorow?"
"Uhm, I'll discuss this with sober you, okay baby." Jason hummed. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" You smiled. "Okay." Dick smiled leaving the room.
He fell asleep a little over a hour later. You pressed a kiss to your screen before hanging up and going to bed. He woke up with a throbbing headache. He grabbed his phone seeing you posted on your story 30 minutes ago. He opened it seeing a picture of him and you on a video call. Did he call you last night?
"don't go! what if I choke on my drunk vomit and die?!" - jason todd. He chuckled reading that. He liked the story immediately getting a reply.
y/nl/n: alive then?
He smiled.
jasontodd: Sorry about last night lol.
y/nl/n: lol don't worry about it :))!
After that you sent him a picture of lots of you cooking, which he liked. What you did next though surprised him.
y/nl/n: 📍live location
y/nl/n: join me? we can discuss our marriage, boyfriend ;)
He never got out of bed faster.
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mischieveousmayhem · 9 days
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Ummi, come back
Pairing: Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mention of death
Synopsis: All he wants is his mom, without her he is falling apart.
a/n: pretty short, my requests are open.
THE MASTERLIST
Damian Wayne, a tough kid.
He gets it from his father of course.
But lately he feels like he hasn't been so tough. Which is okay right? Even the toughest people have weaknesses. But this felt worse then any weakness.
It's been a week since he saw the suffering of his dearest mother. He just needed some of her soothing words, or to break down in her warm, comforting embrace. Although if she was here, he wouldn't need that. If she was here, they would probably be on the couch watching some of her favorite movies, or baking cookies with his fellow brothers.
Y/N wasn't his real mom though. Talia was.
But that didn't matter to you or him. That reason being because you treated him better than Talia ever would.
Even though he didn't like you at first, he learned to love you. You had the sweetest heart ever and you cared for him and his fellow brothers like they were your own kids. Scratch that. They were your real kids even if it wasn't biologically. Blood wasn't what made them your children, it was the memories and love.
Secretly Damian was a mama's boy and whenever you two were alone he would show that. Without his mother he is so lost. Of course he has his father, Bruce. But nothing can replace a mother's tender, delicate love.
So alone he sat, in the garden, watching the sunset. In his hands was a picture of your family. You, Bruce, and the boys. The photo was taken at the first dinner after you and Bruce got married. It was so chaotic, but none of you would have changed it for the world because it was one of the families happiest moments. But lately there has been no happiness. You were their ray of sunshine, you gave the boys everything they could ask for to make them happy.
The sunset, the thing that reminds him of his mother. It was beautiful, just like you. But the thing that really made him get reminded of you was the fact you used to sit on this bench together and watch the sunset.
His eyes are red and puffy. Not to mention he is still crying while watching it, missing you so much.
"Oh Ummi," He spoke, "Come back."
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fluentmoviequoter · 18 days
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Lost Time
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!wife!reader
Summary: Jason comes home to you, his wife, after a mission and makes up for lost time.
Warnings: fluff and comfort! brief mention of the Lazarus Pit and human trafficking
Word Count: 1.3k+ words
A/N: I really want to write a lengthy oneshot for Jason but I don't know if I capture him well enough. I don't get many DC requests but I love them so much!!
Picture from Pinterest (WFA Jason >>>)
Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info
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Jason Todd leaves, it’s what he does. Sometimes there are warnings, direct and indirect, but other nights he leaves while you sleep or simply doesn’t come home when he should. That’s who he is, what he does. There is more to Jason than meets the eye; he isn’t just Jason, Red Hood, or Bruce Wayne’s dead and nearly forgotten son. One piece of Jason makes him whole: being your husband brings him back, every single time. Jason leaves, but the time you spend alone is spent in confidence that he will come back to you, even if he’s broken and crawling.
While Jason is in Blüdhaven helping his brothers with a mission that Bruce doesn’t know about, you spend the time alone missing him. He hates leaving you, but you understand. That doesn’t mean, however, that you just wait for him to come home. Being married is supposed a 50/50 arrangement, yet you have given everything to Jason and there is not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.
Tonight, nearly 96 hours after you last saw Jason, you make yourself comfortable with one of his books. The pages are yellowed from use, and highlights and notes fill the margins and the empty pages. Each word reminds you of Jason, and though you miss him, you refuse to look at his empty side of the bed. In the time since he left, promising to come back to you with a kiss and a tap to your wedding ring, you have read several of his books, cooked his favorite meal, and baked his favorite goodies. The distractions you created are all centered around Jason because despite what you tell yourself about needing to think about other things, Jason Todd takes up every single one of your thoughts. He’s captivating, and you never want to escape him.
Your phone beeps as you finish a page of Frankenstein. After taking a calming breath, you read the message from Barbara.
The bats are Gotham-bound.
The message makes you smile, and you rise from the bed to prepare for Jason’s return. He has come home without a scratch, drenched in blood, and everything in between. In sickness and health, you vowed, and you plan to keep it. With his favorite food already prepared and water heating in the kettle on the stove, you sit on the couch and wait for his entrance. The front door is behind you, and you watch as the Red Hood lands on your fire escape and expertly navigates into your home. His home.
The couch is empty by the time he turns from the now-closed window, and your arms loop around his waist as he moves. Jason chuckles at your immediate attention and pulls his helmet off.
“Miss me?” he asks.
You can hear his smile in his voice, and as Jason’s arms wrap around you, you sigh and release every fear and worry that had been pushed into the back of your mind.
“I need to shower,” Jason says, though he doesn’t move his hands from your back. “Blüdhaven is gross.”
“And Gotham is known for its cleanliness,” you argue.
“Get off,” Jason grumbles.
He raises his hands to your shoulders and easily pushes you back. You look at him as you raise your hands to hold his wrists. Jason’s gaze is soft and his touch is softer.
“Ten minutes,” he requests quietly.
“Someone needs pampering,” you tease. “Take your time. There’s food and tea if you want any.”
“Just wan’ you,” he murmurs.
Jason leans in and kisses your forehead quickly. He avoids your hands as you reach out for him. You laugh as he walks away, and the sound brings Jason home. He’s physically home, yes, but he is only home when you are completely and wholly with him.
The water echoes through the apartment as Jason enters the shower, and you prepare two mugs of tea before carrying them into the bedroom. You would wait forever for Jason, but as you lean back and close your eyes, content listening to him move through your shared home, you know that you’ll never have to wait long.
When Jason enters the bedroom clad in a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants and smiles at you, everything seems better. The darkest Gotham day can’t cast a shadow on what you and Jason have. Before Jason left, he told you all you needed to know about the mission, and you won’t bring it up again. If he wants to talk about it, he will, and you’ll listen.
You raise the blanket as Jason approaches the side of the bed. He doesn’t hesitate to join you and pull you closer. After looping your arms over his shoulders, you push your fingers into Jason’s wet curls and twist them gently around your fingers. His white streak is closest to you, yet you concentrate your attention elsewhere to keep your eyes locked on his.
“You read it again, didn’t you?” Jason asks.
His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he forces them open to talk to you.
“Read what?” you whisper.
“Tell me what I missed,” he requests.
You know he can see his books piled on your nightstand, but you enjoy the smile he gives you when you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. Jason pulls your hands away from his hair, opting to hold you against his side. You lay a hand over his heart and gently trace the bottom of a scar. You know his scars by heart, and each story behind them is ingrained in your memory.
“Not much,” you answer after a moment.
“Did you do anything? Because everything you do is important, and I want to hear about it,” Jason argues.
You lean closer and spread your fingers flat against his skin. His heart thrums steadily beneath your hand, and you think your heart beats in time with his.
“Maybe you just married me for the post-mission cuddles,” you say.
“Or maybe I just married you because I love you. I love you for accepting all of me and loving the parts that I don’t let anyone see.”
“Jason,” you hum.
“You didn’t tell me about what I missed,” he replies.
The first raindrop hits the window, and Jason is reminded that he’s back in Gotham. He’d move to Metropolis and listen to Clark as long as you were by his side, but being in your arms in his home town is a feeling unlike any other.
“I’ll take it you didn’t go to the manor,” you deflect.
“Why would I when I have a beautiful wife waiting at home for me and four days to make up for? Lost time with you will always be more important than Bruce.”
You sigh before you begin telling him about what you did. There isn’t much to tell. You read one of his books, cleaned, cooked, baked, and read another book.
“You baked?” Jason interrupts. “And didn’t bring it up until now?”
“I thought time with me was more important.”
Jason furrows his brows as he turns, pulling you to lay on top of him. When you first started dating, Jason was hesitant to initiate any sort of physical touch. Not long before, he had been Gotham’s most-feared crime lord and the rage caused by the pit was still present. Now, there is nothing to stop Jason from touching you: no fear of hurting you, no concern of scaring you away, and no doubt that you won’t love him once you see his darkest secrets. Jason’s scars, his past, and his nightly activities make him the man you love, and you love those parts of him, not the other way around.
As you cuddle with the man who recently scared human traffickers into turning themselves in to the authorities rather than running into him again, you simply enjoy being together. Your husband Jason and Red Hood Jason aren’t the same, yet you love them both equally.
“Do you really want to make up for lost time?” you ask over the rain.
Jason thinks your voice is more soothing and melodic than any rainstorm could dream of being. He pries his eyes open to answer, “Every second of it.”
You nod and lay your head against his chest. With your hearts pressed to one another and your fingers intertwined with Jason’s, you know that you are loved, and Jason knows you will always be here when he comes home.
You’re nearly asleep when you mumble, “’S a lotta time.”
Jason smiles but doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to disturb you. “Never enough time with you,” he whispers against your temple.
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e-nonsense · 5 days
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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩
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pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader
summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares
warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?
a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more
wc. 1.1k not proofread
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Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.
After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.
“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.
“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.
You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”
“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.
“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.
“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.
“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.
It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.
Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.
It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.
The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.
He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.
The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.
“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.
Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.
The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.
“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.
“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.
“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”
You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”
“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.
“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”
Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.
“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”
You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.
“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.
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© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off
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cherryasagiri · 8 months
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Would You Help Me for Once?
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Pairing: Jason x oc
Summary: Nafula wanted help removing the trash, but Dick Grayson would never.
A/N: Sorry I have been gone for so long. I have finally secured housing and have just been working and unpacking this whole month.
previous 🌸 next
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Nafula was a 15-year-old child then, continuing to grieve Jason’s death while figuring out what she would do with a baby inside her that would never have the pleasure of receiving her father’s love. The tired teenager begged her father to let her be independent once again. There was a time soon after Jason’s death that worried both Bruce and Alfred about her mental well-being after the birth of her child: she would stay out late, bribe owners and bouncers to let her into clubs she wasn’t old enough to get into, drink until she passed out and even dabbled in drug dealing. Still, that part of her didn’t last long.
The love-struck teenager just needed an outlet, and having the money to do so made it easier for her. Dick and Tim worried about their sister; looking from afar, they noticed her severe mental decline. Dick had always been around trying to guide her out of her funk. Whether it was taking her to her favorite places, spending quality bro time together, or even babysitting her daughter so she could have time to grieve fully. Regardless of the situation, the ravenette was consistently by her side. Even though the family thought her outlandish behavior would only worsen to the point where she accidentally ended her own life, they were finally proven wrong when she witnessed her daughter's first words.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and Nafula was still coming off her hangover, jet-black shades adorning her eyes to cast out the bright rays of midday and the craziest migraine she had to date. Amena was lying on her mother’s chest, stirring awake as she tried to pick her head up to look at her mom. Nafula was still busy napping, so she didn’t notice or feel her daughter slapping her breasts to wake her up. Now that the baby is awake, her caregiver needed to be up too so she could entertain her. Nafula would lightly stir, not knowing what or who was bothering her, but she desired more sleep, so she ignored the light pats on her body. Amena wasn’t having it; she was annoyed her mom wasn’t waking up. The little babble that came out wasn’t doing it, nor was the assault, so she thought of the next best thing. Amena’s baby brain would try and remember the phrase her mother would encourage her to say, only to be left confused, but now she felt like it would be the right time to try it out. The more she babbled, the more Nafula tossed and turned while holding her baby still; even while sleeping, Nafula subconsciously put her daughter’s safety in the front of her mind so she would always be able to protect her. She was slowly reemerging from her deep slumber when something sweet reached her ears.
“Mama!” Amena screamed, her mother wide-eyed with tears pricking the corner of her lids. It was one thing that she needed for that day to be perfect. She, of course, shared it with Dick, video and all, of her precious girl acknowledging her. That day, Nafula vowed to be a better mother for her baby. Dick had his own vow to stay by her side, helping as much as he could as the favorite uncle. Pretentious much?
All that to say, the pair were close. Closer to each other than with the other bat kids in the family.
“Dick!” Nafula sang from the kitchen. She was tying up the last trash bag full of the most rancid garbage the boys had saved up because it was her week to take out the trash. “Yes, my dear sister, did you want me to grace your presence with my beauty?” He questioned smugly. Dick was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, looking smugly at his sister. She rolled her eyes at him, slightly irritated with him, before cracking a slight smile that didnt go unnoticed by the former professional acrobat.
He glanced at the piles of trash bags that had to go out tonight before looking back at the woman pretending to have trouble with the duty assigned to her that week. The children of Bruce may have grown up, most of them through their pre-teen years, with a silver spoon in their mouths aided by the wealth of said man who fostered them; however, he made sure that they knew how to function as an adult outside of having wealth. It wasn’t really a skill he had to learn when his parents were killed because he still had Alfred. Still, he thought about the what-ifs and knew that if he had gone from this world before his children were old enough to understand and live independently, they had to be prepared. They had to have the experience, knowledge, and abilities to survive without him and his money.
Taking out the trash was one of those tasks. After staring and noticing the creeped-out look Nafula was giving him, Dick pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to the woman.
“Seriously, what’s up sis? You never call me like that unless you really need something from me, so what is it?” he asked, not wanting her to beat around the bush and just be straight up. There was a little playfulness in his voice that he tried to mask with a bit of seriousness to try and hide the fact that she was already playing this little game in his head. He already knew what she would ask him, but he needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth before making his final judgment. Was he teasing her? Maybe because he already knows he will tell her “no” when she does, and the look on her face will be priceless.
She slowly glared at the male who was now standing in front of her with an accusatory look. She felt he was up to something, but her tired condition couldn't catch the slight mischievous gleam that danced in his irises. “Listen, I know this trash week is mine, but I just fed and put Amena down for bed, yelled at Jason–” “Isn’t that every day though?” Dick questioned when he cut her off, the sly grin plastered on his lips and spreading wide with each word that spewed out. Nafula only gave him a deadpanned look and let out a short, heavy sigh before repeating herself.
“Yelled at Jason for giving her candy before bed right after I told him not to, then had to suffer through a two-hour emergency parent conference through a phone call about the next few days of school for the kids because of the planned attack on the bank down the street. I am just exhausted, and I am not beaten to take out all this trash tonight. Can you please help me?” she begged, her pleading eyes almost making Dick give in.
He watched her weary figure sway a bit from the exhaustion she felt in her body. Dick knows that feeling all too well, and he knows he will get shit for this from her after today, but he feels like it will be worth it in the long run. After all, it will be payback when she refused to help him with it during his week. Then she had the nerve to laugh in his face when a bag snapped, and the garbage got all over his pants. He closed his eyes, letting out a stagged, regrettable sigh, and stared into his sister’s eyes.
“Oh, how much I would love to help you out, dear sister dear,” he started, putting on the voice he knew annoyed her, “but alas, I cannot. You see…” he trailed off, trying to find a good excuse not to help her but couldn’t come up with something fast enough. “if you needed help burying a dead body or needed my help to hide you after you go on a killing spree then sure! I will help you out, no questions asked. But I refuse to help you take out the trash,” he finished, the grin as wide as he could muster while he reveled in the shocked and irritated face she was making.
So much so that he couldn't help but laugh as he walked out of the kitchen and towards her shared bedroom so he could tell Jason what happened. Nafula was left there with no help and speechless, but she had a plan for that ass. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”
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