#batarella

[shadowsndaisies]

What about a blurb on how she develop feelings for robin

main masterlist

codename: nightingale series masterlist

i'll probably write more about the event that makes birdy's crush really cement, but for now, here's how i imagine it!

birdy has a crush!

like i said, we knew from day 1 she had a crush. and we see a lot of her development of said crush. but what if we take it back a beat. what if we went back to where it started bc i can guarantee it wasn’t until robin did something to prove himself

but there must've been a day or a mission or a training exercise she did with the other sidekicks after she came back from Atlantis.

(you know, maybe when she came back, she was really tan from being in the sun on the beach?)

But whatever it is, that happens after she comes back, and you know everybody's excited to see her obviously, but she notices things cause it's been almost like a year too since she saw anybody but kaldur.

Both boys have grown. wally’s taller than her now, though Robin’s like not exactly, but getting close.

Maybe he does something that shows her the softer side, sweeter side, something other than the show-off that is the Dark Knight detective’s sidekick protégé and she's just a little in awe.

this acts as the root of her crush...

something kaldur mercilessly teases her for especially given how she was basically a gremlin to him when she realized Kaldur had a crush on tulla

"turnabout is fair game, my friend," he says with a smirk, eyes twinkling in amusement as he watches the young girl stare at the boy in question.

@butterfly-skinnylegend

dc taglist:

@grey-water-colors @batarella @loninctzencarat @fortunatelyoptimisticdeer @escapenightmare

cnng taglist:

@babymango-writes @smile-more19 @bruiscdlikeviolets @truly-dionysus @farfromjustordinary @sometimeseverythingsucks @dweeb-central @lucy-roo @casedoina @cipheress-to-k-pop @anonomano @seninjakitey @explodingwaffle789 @whelmedparker @bigtimesexhaving @officiallydarkgeek @midnxghtblue @unini @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient @dontmesswithbeebo @raggedyoldwitch @amans-te-amo @tinybeantm @unicorn-mya @bouqet-of-gay @duckmylife18 @kendallambrosio @hanbetired @torchbearerkyle @cynthiarose07 @lolsnacks @mono--moonchild @emo-space-tea @notsostraightweeb @cryingnotcrying  @sassyspanishartist @we-flower-fan n @laurcad123 @aces-tattooartist @awkward-youtube-trash @so0bercore @sanovr @feverish-dove @raginghellfire

#codename: nightingale #anon #cnng #cnng asks #cnng blurbs #cnng headcannons #ask and answered #our songbirds #dick grayson #robin #dick grayson x reader #robin x reader #cnng season 0 #yj #young justice #young justice x reader #dc #dc imagine #kaldur #aqualad #kaldur'ahm #cnng season 0 blurb

[empower-bi-women]

Period pains w/ Dick Grayson

A/N: wow ok I haven’t written anything in a hot minute but my bestie Rae asked for this so I had to deliver. Also I wrote this on mobile so it might be a little wonky :/ Hope you like it tags are at the bottom let me know if you want to be added or removed

- Because of Bruce he has a healthy fear/respect for women so I feel like he would be lowkey scared of you and mostly stay out of your way unless you need him

- But then again the big brother in him wants to wrap you up in a blanket burrito and give you all the kisses and cuddles

- But if you’re like me and don’t like people touching you randomly (especially on my period) he respects your boundaries and won’t come near you unless you call. Like he would set you up on the sofa and would give you a bell to ring for when you need him

- *ring ring* “I WANT TEA PLEASE ” and all you hear is the piter pater of footsteps and the kettle turning on.

- In the occasion that you do want to be touched he would be more than happy to play with your hair or give you a little massage just whatever you wanted

- He would get you the comfiest of clothes aka his and just give you the best cuddles as y’all watch tv

- Unrelated but I feel like Dick would watch once upon a time. I don’t know why but it just feels right. Also Brooklyn nine nine and perhaps supernatural. Him and Jason definitely dressed up as Sam and Dean for Halloween one year

- ANYWAY he would be a very cute and attentive boyfriend and try his best to make you snacks but when he fails (I don’t think he’s the best cook) he would either order food or ask Alfred to bring cookies for the both of you.

- Overall Dick would give his life for you and will do anything to protect you and help you feel better

Tags: @bookfrog242 @batarella @euthymiaei @littleredwing89 @90sloveaffair

#dick grayson imagine #sabrina writes #dick grayson fluff #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #batfam imagine

[itsybitchylittlewitchy]

A Broken Legacy

A/N: Okay, so as some of you may know. I've always been a massive fan of the batman Arkham series, and the animated tv show, pretty much just the whole Batman universe. So after replaying Arkham Knight for the 5th time and reading all of @batarella series on The Commander ( which is amazing and better than any ramblings I could come up with so please check out their stories!)

I decided to create my own Arkham Knight story, which will be a slow burn, but we all know I'm a slut for smut so you bet your ass there will be smut coming up in this bad boy!

So without anymore pointless rambling from me I present you the main rambles!

Please let me know if you liked this and want some more! because I have a lot planned for this story!

Words: 1052

Warnings: WILL BE NSFW SO DONT GET INVESTED IF YOUR UNDER 18, mentions of threatening and violence. I guess also language, if you don't like swearing then Yikes, leave my page immediately

This was the beginning of it all.  His revenge.  Batman would pay for every second of pain he had to endure during his life.  As he looked in the mirror, taking in the sight of himself in his armour.  His red, black, and white camouflage armour, complete with the Arkham logo emblazoned on his armoured chest.  He reached over to the table next to him, grabbing the cold metallic cowl, placing it on his head covering his sweating face, his dark hair already sticking to his face in the early morning heat.  He pressed the button on the side of his cowl as it began to glow with a blue neon light.  His thoughts where interrupted by the loud banging on the wooden door to his private room. 

“Sir! The squadrons are arriving, your needed on the training grounds for the final appraisals”

“About fucking time”

 the Arkham Knight said, holstering his dual pistols and heading to the door.

Lucy was nervous.  She knew the plan inside out, as second in command she had to.  But this was the part that always made her nervous.  She had done her part, and now the rest of the plan hinged on the abilities of others.  Of course, Lucy had heard of Slade Wilson, otherwise known as Deathstroke but this other guy was new, and Lucy didn’t like to rely on people she didn’t know. 

“Is the modified toxin ready for production?”

“Yes Mr Crane, all supplies have been successfully imported into Gotham over the past year.  There is one more delivery scheduled for the Nimbus cells for all militia vehicles, however Mr Stagg has been dragging his feet and provided no further updates on the status of the Cloudburst.” 

He stood with his back to her, letting out an audible sigh. The ragged cloth of his mask draping down his body making him look like some creepy-ass hobo grim reaper.  He was a dangerous man, arguably thee most dangerous man in Gotham.  Lucy hadn’t had much of a choice when he approached her outside the Stagg enterprises lab she used to work at.  At first, she did refuse.  No amount of money was going to motivate her to get messed up with a monster like him.  However, when he arrived in the middle of the night, with three armed thugs and his hideous syringe hands around her adoptive mother’s neck, threatening to inject her with his fear toxin, she knew she had no choice.  After everything Selina had done for her, taking her in as a child, after she got caught stealing food to survive, paying for her to complete her doctorate and treating her like her true daughter.  She knew she couldn’t risk Crane harming her.  Lucy had to get this job done, get paid and get the hell out of Gotham with Selina for good. 

“Perhaps we may need the Knight to pay Mr Stagg a visit.  Arrange a meeting, we can discuss the plans before the final appraisals, it’s time you meet who you’ll be working with in Gotham my dear.”

Crane said, his head over Lucy’s shoulder, his hideous syringe hands barely scraping at her shoulders.  She suppressed a shiver and fought against all her instincts to run from the room there and then.  She had to admit, he was one creepy bastard.  Crane gestured towards the door, allowing Lucy to exit the room first, before following her closely behind.  The air was dry and hot.  She was surrounded by militia in full armour and for the first time felt grateful to be stuck wearing a Lab coat, red silk blouse and a tight black pencil skirt in this heat, the other militia men must be drenched with sweat she idly thought approaching the bottom of the stairs.  Crane moved to walk beside Lucy, she could feel the cold scrapes of his needle hand grazing the small of her back and he ushered her forward. 

“Ah, Mr Wilson.  I trust the men are ready and prepared for battle?”

Crane asked Deathstroke before turning his attention towards the Knight. 

“I wasn’t aware you were bringing dates around my barracks now Scarecrow”

the Knight’s modulated voice teased cruelly as he looked over the woman in front of him.   Something about her was so familiar, her bright blue eyes and golden hair seemed somewhat familiar, like a dream that he couldn’t quite remember. 

“Not at all Knight.  This is Dr Lucy Quinzel formerly head of biological warfare at Stagg enterprises.  She’ll be my second in command for all matters regarding the cloud burst and the creation of my toxin.  She’ll be coming with you to Gotham.  I need you both to pay a visit to help motivate her former employer with completing his task for us.”

Crane drawled.  While propelling Lucy forward towards the Knight and Deathstroke.

“Nice to meet you”

 Lucy politely smiled, taking a step towards the Arkham Knight, holding out her hand for him to shake.  He stood frozen.  Not extending his hand.  Not saying anything.  Just staring blankly ahead. 

“A pleasure to meet you doctor” Deathstroke purred as he moved forward knocking the Knight to the side and kissing Lucy’s extended hand, making her blush slightly. 

“Enough formalities.  Dr Quinzel, accompany the Knight to the meeting room.  I need you to provide as much information on Mr Stagg and his operations as possible.” Crane commanded before turning back to Deathstroke and to the militia men.

Lucy stood there, looking at this Arkham Knight.  So far, he hadn’t so much as said a word, or even acknowledged her existence for that matter.  He was an imposing man, well built, taller than her.  She figured he was going overboard on the strong silent routine. She rolled her eyes and turned on her heels to head back up the stairs towards the meeting room when she stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him.  He still hadn’t moved. 

“Are you coming? or do I need to launch something at that flashy helmet of yours to get your attention?” she teased while taking off her pen cap and throwing it to hit off the Arkham Knights visor with a tiny amusing clink.  She supressed her laughter as he snapped out of it and barged past her storming up to the meeting room.   

#arkham knight smut #arkham knight fic #Jason Todd #Arkham Knight #Harley Quinn #harleen quinzel #dr crane #scarecrow #selina kyle #OC #my fic post #batman arkham fic #batman arkham #red hood #smut #slow burn #enemies to lovers #Joker #harley quinn #batfamily #fan fic stuff #fan fic #my fic #Batman arkham games #johnathan crane #arkham asylum #Arkham City #Batman #animated batman

[internalsealpanic]

Thanks for the tag @unmotivatedwrit3r !

slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there is only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one shot or multi chapter // kid fic or roadtrip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle-aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or gender bend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

Pressure tags: @restwellsoon @boosyboo9206 @pricetagofficial @batarella @littleredwing89 @glorified-red

[batarella]

Wallpaper (Jason Todd x Reader)

A smile so palpable, a smile you saw him look at and return, for only just so few a second, it stayed and delved into this threshold with him you never would have foreseen.

A/N: I just realized I haven’t done a one shot since before Bullet. Here’s a little coffee shop one where you find out your best friend’s home screen on his phone is a picture of you.

WORDS: 2081 WARNINGS: NONE BUT FLUFF

MASTERLIST

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Two espressos at ten that night. At this hour, there were three types of people in the café with you. The hard-working strivers with bloodshot eyes and five different highlighters, the laid back, unbothered students on their phones even with a book wide open in front of them, and the likes of Jason, the friends of the mentioned two, asleep on the couch and/or their desks.

And it was just that when you got to your table and Jason had already settled into his seat, crouched over and unmoving. You poked his shoulder with your elbow to wake him. “Drink.”

“I didn’t order one.”

“I thought you needed it, with you on patrol tonight.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s Wednesday.”

Wednesdays he patrols the alley, so he won't be getting any shut eye for the whole of the night. And he had an hour, maybe two, before he leaves. Still you convinced him to come with or the lack of company lulls you to boredom. And that wasn’t much an option even when it’d be inevitable having a paper due before AM.

Jason didn’t argue, and he wasn’t much to have caffeine before he goes on patrol. He just took the cup and sipped.

You pulled out your laptop. “Got anything to do for the night?”

From your screen, you looked up and Jason was on his phone. “Errands.”

“Errands?”

“Yeah,” he showed you his screen. It opened a text from Roy. “Is Roy asking you to do something for him?”

“Nah. I just need to reply. It’s been two days.”

“So errands to you is replying to text messages-“

“You know I don’t like texting when it isn’t necessary.”

“You reply to me.”

He snorted and sipped from his cup. “’Cuz you're tolerable.”

“Thanks so much.” You stretched out your fingers. “Now be quiet. I need to finish this.”

You never once would have thought that was the last thing you’d ever say to him that didn’t have any unusual undertones, when you didn’t have to think too much about what you’d say and what light you’d put yourself into. And what was worse, it wasn’t one you’d prepared for, neither was it anything to expect even when it was all in front of your nose for so many years.

“Bathroom,” he said to you after half an hour of silence.

And all else would have stayed that way if you let it. But even that had proven to be something so difficult for you to do.

It started when, out of the gaps from the supposed noise cancelling headphones you got from Wish, his phone rang. It was Roy. Because of those headphones, and how they failed at their one job, you heard that ringtone, the first of this descent, this succession you’d no longer knew how to stop.

You picked up his phone and told Roy he’d call him back.

Another step was looking too closely at his lock screen that opened just as you hung up.

It was taken from a couch. Your couch it seems. The one in your apartment that faced your window. And in front of it, too far for you to recognize immediately but close enough that you’d know, was a head of hair, back turned and facing out the curtains, with an arm outstretched so she was holding the fabric out the way to look out the glass.

Her hair was, however, something you could tell was yours. Because then you remembered the day this picture was taken. You invited him over to your apartment and a parade went on just outside your building. Jason didn’t care for it and stuck to the couch. You wanted to at least take a peek.

But it would have been nothing to think much of if it weren’t for the fact that the whole picture was centered on you, that it wasn’t the curtains or the windows or even the blank wall perfectly shined on was what the photo was so focused on.

It was ignorance, genuine confusion you just wanted an answer to.

But something, some voice perhaps, told you it was a good idea to snoop around your best friend’s phone, because that very voice knew there was so much more to this than you ever would have thought.

Another step you didn’t know would push you further into this fall was guessing his password right the first time.

It was then when you knew there wasn’t any turning back, whatever it was you’d gotten yourself into.

All it was, and all it should be, was a photo of you, one of you turning your back to tell him you’d seen god knows what outside your window, something that seemingly made you smile in a way you’ve never seen yourself before, so raw and candid, one you could never force yourself to have if you tried. Because it seems it came out when you weren’t. A photo that Jason had set as his home screen. All it should be was a photo, and a few taps of his fingers that should mean just as much as saying you looked at all decent. All it should be was pixels, a moment captured just because, something he’d look at amusingly that had nothing to do with depth nor thought.

All it was is you, his best friend, someone he took to prom once and ended up skipping because you had food poisoning that night, and he spent the night holding up your hair with your head in the toilet. All it was is you, the girl who tried and miserably failed to hook him up with so many others because no one seemed to stick with him long enough, longer than just a fling or enough to have meaning.

All it was is you. It was him. It was just Jason.

It can’t be anything more.

You put the phone down just as Jason came back from the bathroom.

“Roy called.” You found it difficult to even talk. “He wants you to call him back.”

The man just scoffed. “All he’s getting is a text outta me. You didn’t have to answer.”

You shrugged. Maybe you shouldn’t have.

But it shouldn’t matter if it didn’t mean anything.

That he didn’t actively choose to have your face to look at every day when you weren’t around, on his phone which he was on so much of the time, even when he barely talks to anyone.

That it wasn’t you, at a moment you didn’t even notice, and a photo he’d cropped out so it was you and you alone that he could see, that he didn’t care for the curtains, the view out the window, or the blank wall, that he only cared to see you.

That he didn’t choose to have you to look at every time he closes an app or sends a text or takes a photo or do anything with that little device.

It shouldn’t be any of those things.

But, even with your efforts not too futile, it didn’t even matter.

Ten years, more than that, without seeing him anywhere near that light.

But not one day out of those years did you remember looking up from where you were sitting quietly across him and notice how lightly his tongue dragged over his top lip to clean off the coffee’s brown, or how he ignores it when his hair tickles his eyelids but can’t stand it when it was on his nose.

You thought you’d never notice how that night, the dark circles under his eyes were more eminent than they’d so often be, how when he answered your call that late afternoon, he’d just woken up from a nap, or more likely, just had the time to at all sleep. How he didn’t even sound like it was a bother and went with you anyway.

How he’s never rejected a night with you at the café even when you thought he would, even when he’d barely do anything more than nap or fiddle with his phone. Sometimes he’d pretend to ask about what you were up to, pretend to be interested.

How he’s never said no to you at all. Even for the most trivial things, even when it seemed so unlike him to be invested in what you do, even when it doesn’t concern him at the least.

You never saw him in that light.

Suddenly he was shining under it brighter than any beautiful woman’s eyes or a concert stadium’s stage lighting.

At one point you couldn’t remember, you were told it was possible to fall in love in a day, and naturally you didn’t believe it. Or if it were true, that it wasn’t at all any deeper than a child’s play pool or a pond outside a garden.

And it was all too unlikely that you’d know all these with what time you had.

But you did.

All it took was an hour. Less than two.

And it was your chest burning, jumping even, that went with your stomach when he slid the small cake he’d ordered over to your side of the table so you could have a bite, even when you knew that little slice was barely enough to stuff him.

It was your eyes that took too long to linger on what was just his face, no longer just a face, but was now one you could stare at for so long as you could see, for so long that you’d take advantage of your sight and choose to only ever look at things so beautiful, such as him.

It was your hands, sweating profusely and defying all effort you’d pathetically exert, how they shook so much you had to fist them just to have some kind of conscious control.

But even that wasn’t possible. You had no control in any of this at all.

It was the opposite of gradual falling, the kind you thought would only bring out something so intense and genuine and at all real, something that’d last and evolve from the frantic beating in your chest into comfort you’d find in no one else.

It wasn’t something you’d seen come from so far and prepared for even with it so clear, that you’d look to yourself and actually watch yourself fall and at all have a say in any of it.

Because, if anything, it was tripping over a cliff that suddenly appeared behind you, or a beaver dam you thought was made of stone, but instead was filled with leaves and branches so brittle and fragile that the water broke through it easier with one, single ripple from its surface.

You watched yourself then, as everything you felt, every ounce of redness in your face that morphed into this fire that never would stop burning even with what you’d try to extinguish, that this shaking in your palms turned to this reeling, this desire to hold something or someone, someone that was him and only him, when you looked up and saw his hand and you realized it was what you were crying out to hold.

Like you’d transcended out your own body and saw what you never thought existed suddenly unfold.  

It wasn’t possible.

But you didn’t even allow yourself the time to deny it.

“Want me to get you more?” Jason asked you, and you realized you’d finished the cake he’d given. And you didn’t even like cake.

“I’d love one.”

Just as he started to get up from his chair, he looked at you quizzically.

“You alright?”

The nod you gave him was too subtle to imply truth, but he didn’t look into it twice. He just got up and bought you another slice.

Then he handed the whole thing to you, took one bite, then gave you the same fork he’d just raked over his lips.

A smile so palpable, a smile you saw him look at and return, for only just so few a second, it stayed and delved into this threshold with him you never would have foreseen.

But it was that very smile that sealed it, that locked you in, and right then you knew that perhaps, this was what you’ve wanted in a good life for so long.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

You couldn’t possibly have fallen in love with him in eighty-three minutes.

But at the end of it, you didn’t even try to deny.

You did.

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MASTERLIST

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A/N: Let me know if you want on my taglist!

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MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish​, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo,  @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive @spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, 

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #batarella #batarella fluff #reader insert #jason todd reader insert

[pricetagofficial]

Jason retelling his adventure in Andromeda to the Batfamily when he returns home (@batarella I COULD NOT GO TO SLEEP UNTIL I MADE THIS)

#im funny #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #amdromeda #batarella #laugh at me #seriously I couldnt sleep until this was done

[am-the-renegade]

“Of firsts, comfort, home, safety, and warmth.

Yellow was the sun. Yellow was light. And it was warm, secure, like being bundled up in a quilt so perfect around your form, you let it stay despite being motionless. But you didn’t want to move at all.

Or an arm, perhaps, holding your shoulders close to a body you could lean on even when you don’t feel so tired.

It was yellow you saw, looking out from a tower so high, legs dangling from a height so dangerous, but you didn’t even care. And neither did Tim. You knew he felt the same, when your head suddenly felt too heavy for you to lug around, forcing you to lean onto his shoulder so tastefully warm like none other can give you.

A kiss to your forehead lulled your eyes closed and you held onto his firm arm. Still, you saw the color seep through your eyelids, with it being so bright you wouldn’t miss it even with them shut.”

Excerpt From

3 birds 1 stone

@batarella

Hope ya like hehe -w-

#fanart #batarella #3birds1stone #batboysxreader

[redhoodssweetheart]

Hello sweetie I’d like to join your writing challenge 👀 might take me a while tho but I’d still rlly like to join! I’d like to write the High School AU with Tim

Hi Batty! I'll put you down for High School AU! I'm excited to read it!!!

#asks #batarella #redhoodssweethearts1.7kwritingchallenge

[cyarikashakira]

Am I seriously sitting here having a dilemma because I have to choose what color to paint a goddam rose?!

...Yes, yes I am...

#batarella #3 birds 1 stone #bat boys #bat family #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #I mean...can this be a poly thing? #I want all 3 of them because they are most likely evenly matched with pros and cons

[shadowsndaisies]

robin catching feelings

so someone sent me an ask but tumblr glitched and I can't find it but here's a little headcannon/my thought process on it:

ok so when does our birdboy realize??

already set that birdy had a small crush in ep 1 so what if robin did too? 

but what if he’s not fully aware until later, developing his feelings throughout all the things that are happening

but like more to come on the kernel of his crush from when they first met...

HERE'S WHY

chapter 6 (infiltrated)

Robin had some interesting feelings about wally and birdy’s kiss

Maybe he's not exactly sure why— just that it bothered him, and he kind of leaves the emoting alone for a bit. bc he does like her but mb he doesnt realize how much he likes her…. yet.

wally on the other hand notices the slightest hints of jealousy and will be supporting the information away for later

chapters 9 (bereft) and 11 (terrors)

so, in episode 9, they had the brain blast amnesia, and Kaldur got super sick. 

Robin was all jealous. Which is something he had to come to terms with it, especially because ain't no way Wally would let him go. 

So maybe wally presses on it a little bit and Robin gets defensive, so he decides to let it go… for now…

But after 11, when Robin and Birdy had their little moment on the sofa, he brings it up again because now he knows some things. 

That was when birdy did her reveal to him, so maybe he's like maybe… I…. am… into…. her...

also he called her beautiful… sooooo

so at this point homeboy knows he has a crush, but he's not exactly down bad

chapters 14 (revelations) & 15 (humanity)

so based off what was said just before, this is why 14 and 15 have such a big role. 14 gives us birdy’s big chance with Dr. fate. 

I mean the boys almost lost her, and that drives home for him because holy shit I could've lost her. 

so now he’s thinking about it…

he does not like the feeling he gets because he's lost plenty of people in his life already. 

And then in 15, right? Enter Z? It's common knowledge that zatanna’s pretty and she seems to have a little minor crush on him too 

because she's flirting with him, but maybe this is the distraction he needs because he doesn't want to fall for birdy. i mean look at B right? he doesn't have attachments bc they only end up in pain, and with all rob’s already lost he's not trying to make new ones.

which is why he's so dumb and flirts w zatanna— to keep his mind of birdy

which puts us at chapter 16 (failsafe) - when birdy reveals how she feels, outright and clearly

and his distraction tactic goes out the window bc fuck birdy is pretty and smart and tough and oh fuck. oh shit. this is more than just a crush

chapter 17 (disordered) 

his admission of being into her following therapy w dinah and his realization of not wanting to be batman. 

of wanting to be in her life, wanting to be a part of her life, actively.

of being there for her, there to catch her, whatever she needs

not wanting to be bruce- especially the isolation of it all

aka when we see birdboy is, in fact, down bad

from that point on we see his feelings grow

18 (secrets)

homeboy's got heart eyes watching ng stand up to the bat

19 (misplaced)

HUGE for their development bc birdy meets dick grayson for the first time

and he's out here showing the most secretive part of himself to her

21 (agendas)

our love birds go on a date (kinda) and they get to be yn and dick, and see how they do with each other over ng and robin, and it just reaffirms the feelings for both of them

everything tags: 

@butterfly-skinnylegend​​ 

dc taglist: 

@grey-water-colors​ @batarella​ @loninctzencarat​ ​​@escapenightmare

cnng taglist: 

@babymango-writes​​​​​​ @smile-more19​​​​​​ @bruiscdlikeviolets​​​​​ @truly-dionysus​​​​​​ @farfromjustordinary​​​​​ @sometimeseverythingsucks​​​​​ @dweeb-central​​​ @lucy-roo​​​​​ @casedoina​​​​​ @cipheress-to-k-pop​​​​​ @anonomano​​​​​ @seninjakitey​​​​​ @explodingwaffle789​​​​​ @whelmedparker @bigtimesexhaving​​​​​ @officiallydarkgeek​​​​​ @midnxghtblue​​​​​ @unini​​​​ ​ @blackwhiteandshadesofgradient​​​​​ @dontmesswithbeebo​​​​​ @raggedyoldwitch​​​​​ ​​​​​ @amans-te-amo @tinybeantm​​​​​​​​​​ @unicorn-mya​​​​​ @bouqet-of-gay​​​​​ @duckmylife18 @kendallambrosio​​​​​ @hanbetired​​​​ @torchbearerkyle​ @cynthiarose07​​ @lolsnacks​​​​ ​ @mono--moonchild @emo-space-tea​ @notsostraightweeb​ @cryingnotcrying​  @sassyspanishartist​ @ahyeonah​ @acceber1313​ @abuliawrites @onepieceformeplease @whatislifeandhowdoidoit @luvelyxp​ @lovelyartemisa @evermoore580 @mischiefmanaged71

#ask and answered #cnng #dick grayson #codename: nightingale #cnng asks #anon #our songbirds #cnng hcs #cnng hc #cnng blurb

[empower-bi-women]

Size kink w/Jay

Word count: 1827

Warnings: SMUT SO 18+ ONLY, size kink, a bit of choking, dirty talk, light degradation maybe, swearing, and thats about it I think 

A/N: So this started off as a little headcanon the turned into a full fic with the help of @bookfrog242 so enjoy our joint 3am thirst. As always feedback is greatly appreciated :) 

tagging @littleredwing89 and @batarella cause ik y’all love Todd 

masterlist 

So we all know this man is B U I L T 

If you're small like me (I’m 5’2 and I like to think of Jay around 6’1ish) he just dwarfs you.

He found out from a night at the manor when Dick and Tim were joking around 

He walked into the room just in time to see you tackle Tim to the ground as he laughed maniacally yelling about a size kink and from the way you reacted he could guess it was you that had it. 

That night he walks into your room all casual like, just asking questions about your day when he decided to corner you

Literally.

“I have a theory about you princess, I know you said that Tim was lying but I think you’re the liar.” 

For every step that he took forward, you took back until your back hit the wall. He gave you a sadistic smile as he kept moving forward until you were staring at his broad chest. 

“Look at me Y/N” you could practically feel the rumble in his chest 

He put his large hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his blue eyes “look at you, so small and cute, I could just wreck you” his hand slid down to your neck, grabbing it lightly. 

“I think you love when I get in your space like this” he kisses your neck, “you’re so close to coming all because I’m bigger,” he bites your neck, “and stronger “ he pulls your hips toward him “and I can use you as my own personal fuck toy” you inadvertently let out a moan and he smirked down at you. 

“I bet you’d let me do just about anything to you. Let me fuck you until your eyes roll back and you can’t think of anything anymore”

He peeled off your shirt and his hands palmed your chest as you let out soft whimpers at his actions, moving your body forwards slightly at the contact. 

“You’re just the perfect size for me to ruin. Looking up at me with those huge eyes acting all innocent,” he nipped at your ear,” I bet you're soaked right now princess.” 

You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. 

“Oh really? You don’t think so?” he pulled your shorts and panties down in one swift motion before sliding a finger in between your folds. He felt your juices against his fingers and teased you slightly, smirking at how ruined you already were.

“Well will you look at that princess, I was right.”

You moaned out as he held you in place with one hand around your throat as he worked his finger into you slowly before adding another.

“Fuck Jason.” you moaned out as he just laughed at you clawing at his arms while his thumb rubbed your clit. You felt him increase the speed of his thumb slightly and moaned out from the contact, making him smirk at your helpless form “such a good girl for me, so wet and ready. I bet no one else can make you feel the way I do.”

His speed increased once again as you gasped out “it’s too much Jason I can’t.” He smirked as he felt you throb around his fingers “yes you can princess.” he grunted slightly at the feeling of his dick become harder from the sight of you falling apart at his fingers “and you will. You’ll take what I give you and be grateful” 

You tightened around his fingers as you came with a shout of his name. He kept rubbing your clit, working you through your orgasm. 

Once it started to die down he gave you a wicked grin. “Now I didn't say you could cum, did I princess?” 

You looked up at him with wide eyes, pupils blown “I’m sorry I just couldn’t hold it.” 

He clicked his tongue. “Too bad.” he picked you up and carried you to the bed in the center of the room before sitting you down on his lap. “You wanted to cum so badly, go ahead.” he gestured to his thighs, “knock yourself out princess.”  

You rested your hands on his broad shoulders before slowly dragging your hips across the material of his pants. You whimpered at the sensation of the rough denim on your oversensitive clit. 

He sat back, watching you with a cocky look on his face. Blue eyes danced across your innocent form and he couldn’t help but to stare at the way your lips seemed to form a perfect ‘o’ every time your clit dragged across his thighs. He admired the way you whined and felt something dark stir down in his core, dick hardening at every whimper that escaped your lips. He felt himself letting out slight grunts of approval every time you brushed against his clothed dick, slightly thrusting his hips to create more friction between your hips. 

Your hips moved faster as you neared your high once again before Jason lifted you off his thigh.

“What the fuck Todd.” you whined out. He tossed you onto the bed with ease. “Uh uh princess, you can speak when spoken to - understood?” You nodded and felt his thumb move across your bottom lip, bucking your hips slightly as he teased you with his knee. “No one will ever touch you again, understood?” You nodded as you watched him unbuckle his belt, but felt him pause. “What did I say princess? You’re mine. Understood?” You let out a whimper but managed a reply “Yes sir.”

He let out a low growl “good girl.” He groaned as he slid the tip in "you feel so fucking good princess." you whined as his hips met your body, both of you breath heavy as he looked down at your connecting bodies. "holy shit, look how deep I am inside you." he lightly traces the outline of himself before his large hands trail lower over your stomach before pressing down, making you cry out “Fuck you’re taking me so well princess. Look at you all swollen and soaked for me. Such a good little girl.”

He thrust his hips against yours as you sob in pleasure, tears streaming down your face. "look at you, my pretty fucking princess, all fucked out already and we've barely even started. I bet when you played with yourself you pictured me, or maybe it was Grayson. I see the way you look at him, and while I understand your thoughts about him, he could never fuck you the way I’m about to”

Pinning both your hands in one of his, he held you down as he thrust his hips at an unforgiving pace, watching your face twist up in pleasure. “Keep your eyes on me princess.” he groaned as you bit your lip, eyes fluttering open to meet his. “Fuck princess, I’m gonna cum just from the way you keep tightening around me. Such a good girl, so small but taking me so well.” He moved himself again, withdrawing himself completely before pushing back in 

“You like how I just completely take over, hm? How I make you feel like the small baby you are? Turn you into my brainless brat.” You lie there a moaning mess, not being sure whether to answer him or not. He growls “Tell me how much you love having me inside you princess.”

“I love it,” you cried out, tears running down your cheeks, “you feel so good inside me sir.” 

He stopped inside you. You clawed at his wrists begging him to move before he pulled out, flipped you over.. He grabbed your hands, pinning them behind your back.

“Jason please I'm so close.” you were cut off when you felt an exploding pain in your ass.

“Don’t know how I went this long without touching this amazing ass of yours,” he smacked it once again as you cried out in pain, “fucking beautiful. But I believe you were in the middle of begging? You sounded so pretty for me I’d hate to miss it again.” 

“Please,” your voice shook with need, “I need to cum Jason please.” 

“Aw come on princess you can do better than that,” he lowered himself to growl in your ear, “now be a good girl, and beg.”

You whined and felt yourself grow desperate, you couldn’t help but to finally let go. “Jason, I need you inside me. I need to feel your big dick hitting all the right spots, making me so wet and needy for you. I need to cum around your cock. I need you to make me yours.” 

He smirks at your desperate tone and pushes in and out without warning, you can feel his long dick hit spots you didn’t even know were possible and you love it. You can’t help but get addicted to feeling Jason inside you, your dripping walls accommodating him for his every need. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you just like this? Make you my little whore, thinking about nothing but me filling you up with my cum? You should have told me earlier about your little kink, we could have had so much fun.” he rubs your clit bringing you to the edge, “well I guess we just have to make up for lost time then, huh princess.” 

You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, as your walls tighten around him “Fuck sweetheart, gonna cum just from hearing the sounds that are coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

You whine out and grind back against his hips, “What is it baby? You can talk. Such a good girl, waiting for permission.” 

“Please can I cum, I need it so bad sir, please.” you begged through tears.

Jason let out a low chuckle at your words. “Hold it.”

You whimpered out as you couldn’t take it anymore, “Please sir, just let me cum. Punish me if you have to, just let me cum.” 

He groaned at the desperation in your voice before speaking again. “Fuck princess, so needy for my cock to make you cum. Cum with me. NOW.” 

You moaned out, tears streaming down your face and sobs leaving your throat. You felt so raw, so used. But you loved it, you wanted - no - craved more. You needed Jason to use your body, you needed to feel his cock deep inside of you at all times. You came with a shout of his name. Your vision turned white for a few moments and you swore your soul left your body. 

You felt his hot cum spurt into you, Jason groaned above you. “Fuck princess you get any tighter you’re gonna rip my dick off.” he slowly pulled out of you, hissing as the cool air hit his body. He flopped down on the bed, giving you a shit eating grin. “So, round two?” 

#Jason Todd #red hood #red hood smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd smut #dc #dc smut #dc fics #jason todd x reader #batboys smut #size kink

[butwhyduh]

uhh hi! i love your blog and all your writing and i have binge read all of your works so far i guess? so i was wondering if you have any favorite batfam writers like yourself here on tumblr or ao3 that you enjoy reading from? anyways, admire you lots you seem so sweet and cool!

🥺 thank you. But also 😳you’ve read it all?? That’s a uh bit of reading. I’m very flattered but also don’t forget to sleep and eat. Here’s my ao3 too butwhyduh

It’s not a comprehensive list by any mean. And I’ll be kicking myself for not adding someone the second i post it. Some of them write more on their ao3 or tumblr but I’ll link tumblrs first.

@invisibleanonymousmonsters @catxsnow @psychovigilantewrites @littleredwing89 @arestorationofbalance @ereawrites @batshit-birds @ragingbookdragon @shyestofhearts @prettylittlebrownskingyal @citrinesparkles @barelyalivebutnotdead @rainbow820 @batarella @dibs4ever @superhero--imagines @sohotthateveryonedied @internalsealpanic @glorified-red @thychesters @scarletbirbs @lostoctaviaaugusta @tadpole-san @thegirlwiththebambooblade @uncpanda @quillsareswords @magicalbeanie @magicalbeanie-recs @pricetagofficial @rason-rodd @gangrenados @daringyounggrayson @river-bottom-nightmare @angelz-dust @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan

@spiderjizz doesn’t write fics but has smut fic recs and many are dc.

Ao3 fics I liked. They are randomly placed.

Wally West x Dick Grayson (whump)

Wally West x Dick Grayson (smut)

Damian Wayne vs Santa Claus

Bruce gets Damian as a baby

Tim w/ cigarettes (funny)

Damian and Tim when the school explodes

Romani Dick Grayson fic

Jason todd takes a gap year

Garth of Shayeris x Reader who is a star sapphire lantern (it explains what that is in the story)

Through the mirror series (reverse Robin au)

In for a pound (baby Damian is brought to Bruce)

Tim drake is a fae au

Another reverse Robin au

Talon!Dick Grayson

Jason Todd is colorblind

Neurodivergent batfam series

Batboys body swap

Dick Grayson becomes blind

Pizza girl’s guide to Gotham (Jason todd x reader)

Wing au (Tim Drake whump)

Another body swap batboys fic

#fic rec #b’s fic rec #batboy x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #red hood x reader #red robin x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #batfam fic

[littleredwing89]

Next Door Neighbour

Next Door Neighbour

Jason Todd X Reader

Summary: "Oh! You, ah, dropped something", Jason smiled while looking down at her feet. Y/N looked down and saw the black thong she'd worn during the day was laying on the floor. It must've fallen out when she dropped the bags. Kill me now, she thought.

Warnings – NSFW Smut. Language. 

Word Count: 3,209

***

Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises​ @internalsealpanic​ @batarella​ thank you so much for proof reading this :) xoxo

Tag List:  @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella @batarella-mini @lucy-roo @psych0crybaby @illzarr @pricetagofficial @jadedhillon @vvipgot7be @clementinesandstars @thedeadlythoughts @fantasticwizardnerd @idkmanicantenglish @power-of-words23 @vintagexparker @borntobewondering @l-inkage @fourteengemstones @ficrecsideblog @geekonaleash @catxsnow​

***

Y/N carried her laundry into the elevator, hit the basement button and dropped the heavy bags onto the floor. It had got to the point where laundry was now an emergency in her flat. She sighed. Friday night laundry. How dull. A minute later, the elevator stopped, and Jason got in. Jason. Y/N had run into him several times since she'd moved into the building, a little over a year ago.

Jason was a cute guy who lived on the fourth floor of the apartment block. He was often in the complex gym, Wednesday nights, while she was attending her Spinning Class. He'd lift weights at the other end of the room and Y/N would often watch him from her stationary bike.

"Hey, how're you doing? How has your week been?", he asked before taking a sip from his water bottle. She watched his throat bob with each swallow.

"Eh, it was alright", she lied to get the topic out of the way. Y/N didn’t want to go into the boring topic of her work.

"Are you going to the gym?", she cringed the second she asked the question. Of course he’s going to the gym Y/N – why else would he be dressed like that?

"Yeah. I like going on Fridays because it's quiet. I usually have the place to myself which means I can listen to music and do my thing", Jason beamed at her.

"That's cool. I should be going more often really".

Jason looked her over, a small smirk on his lips, "I see you, on Wednesdays, in the Spinning Class. It looks fun. I've thought of joining".

"It's pretty cool, tough but cool".

"You're doing laundry. That reminds me, I have a ton to do, too", Jason groaned at the thought, Fucking laundry.

***

Jason couldn't help but notice her thin tank top was taut against her chest and see-through, while under the overhead lighting of the elevator. Her gaze froze, on Jason's thick thighs, for a moment. Dozens of filthy thoughts flew through her mind. The elevator stopped and dinged, breaking both of them out of their dazes at the same time.

"Oh! You, ah, dropped something", Jason smiled while looking down at her feet.

Y/N looked down and saw the black thong she'd worn during the day was laying on the floor. It must've fallen out when she dropped the bags. Kill me now, she thought.

"Oh, great!", she said.

She wasn’t sure if she could be anymore embarrassed. As she bent over to pick up the thong, Jason had a good view of her cleavage, for only a second, down the front of her shirt.

"Thanks", she said with the thong hanging from her hand.

Jason smiled his big, crooked grin and gestured for her to get off of the elevator first. She smiled and, unintentionally, flicked her eyes to the bulge in the front of his loose-fitting gym shorts but she didn't think he'd noticed. Y/N struggled, briefly, to pick up her three heavy bags.

"Ahh shit, I'm sorry. Let me help you", Jason rushed to her side, “Where are my manners eh?”.

"Oh, okay", she smiled, grateful for the help.

Jason grabbed the straps of the bags she'd thrown over her right shoulder. As he pulled them from her shoulder, the strap of her shirt slipped off with them. He started to reach to fix her strap until he quickly realized what he was doing pulling his hand back, a pink tint passed over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks.

"It's okay. It's a short walk to the laundry room", Y/N blushed.

Y/N led the way, her face still lightly pink from the moment they'd almost shared. She'd wished he had fixed her strap, so she could've felt his big hand on her bare little shoulder. His hands matched his thigh, big and thick.

"Damn! Who needs the gym? Hauling this laundry around is a workout all by itself", he teased.

"Ha! You can say that, again!".

The laundry room was completely empty. Y/N dropped the bag, she'd been carrying, next to a washing machine and Jason dropped the other two bags beside it.

"Thank you so much!", She fixed her fallen strap while Jason followed her hand with his eyes.

"No problem", he smiled.

On his way out of the laundry room, Jason looked back to check out Y/N's ass as she bent over while putting her clothes into the washing machine. The legs of her shorts barely covered her ass cheeks and were tightly and snugly against her pussy, outlining it. Jason bit his lip hard as he left the laundry room, readjusting his shorts subtly.

***

The laundry room was somewhat of a U-shape, like a square but missing one side. Once her three loads were in the machines, she found something to read around the corner from the main machines where there was a reading area. There was a 'take a book, leave a book' shelf, which had the week's newspapers but, mostly, outdated cookbooks about how to make casseroles in the microwave.

Y/N found a book about travelling through Thailand, sat down and began to flip through it. As she absently turned the pages, her mind drifted back to Jason, his thick legs and his big hand which had almost touched her bare shoulder. As she sat, thinking, she couldn't help but notice how tight her shorts were against her pussy.

She squirmed in her seat to see if she could cause her outer lips to part enough for the seam of her shorts to rub her clit. 'It should be pretty easy’, she thought as she remembered she wasn't wearing any underwear. Y/N gently rocked her hips back and forth and felt her pussy lips move to the side.

Then, as she began rocking front to back, the thought of Jason in his loose, thin gym shorts entered her mind. She wondered what he was doing in the gym at that moment, probably lifting weights or maybe working his thick, ropy legs. Her crotch became damp and warm while thinking of Jason, rocking in her seat.

After a while, the buzzers on the washing machines sounded off, pulling her out of her daze. She got up and transferred her laundry into some drying machines. When she was finished, Y/N returned to her spot around the corner, picked up the book of Thailand that she wasn't reading and began to fantasise, again.

Y/N was getting so horny, she couldn't help but place her hand between her legs and rub her pussy through her shorts. She'd looked around for cameras, before she put her clothes in the dryers, but didn't see any, anywhere, so she didn't have to worry about being watched. Y/N heard the door open, she immediately stopped and pretended to be reading. She knew her face would be glowing.

She heard the door of a washing machine open and decided to peek around the corner to see who'd come in. It was Jason. Y/N tossed the book back onto the shelf and went over to say hi.

"Oh, Jason. Are you finished at the gym?", she asked casually, smiling at him.

"Yeah. Only had a light workout, today. After seeing all of your laundry, I thought I should do some of my own", he chuckled. He really couldn’t leave it all for Alfred to do.

Y/N noticed he smelled of fresh soap and cologne and his hair was still wet from the shower. He looked good in the black tank top and grey sweatpants he'd changed into. Jason filled the washing machine with his load of laundry and winced as he bent to close the door.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?", she asked.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I think I pushed myself too much, today. I'm feeling stiff, now. I'll have to go for a massage after work on Monday", Jason said while reaching across himself to rub his shoulder.

"Where are you feeling it?".

"Mainly my traps and lats", he grimaced.

"What's that in non-gym, layman's terms?", she giggled, rolling her eyes.

"Oh. Well, turn around for a sec", he smiled.

Y/N turned her back to Jason as he moved so close to her, she could smell his clean hair and cologne even clearer now. She felt him moving closely behind her and tensed as he placed a large, strong, warm hand on her upper back.

"Here and...", he slid his hand onto her shoulder, "Here".

Y/N immediately blushed at Jason's touch as her heart began beating faster in her chest and she tried to hide her heavy breathing by speaking.

"Ohhh, err, thanks for showing me", she swallowed, trying to hide her nervousness.

"Wow, you're tense! You feel as stiff as I do", he said.

His hand began to gently, almost imperceptibly, knead her soft, delicate shoulder. 'Why don't you show me how stiff you are', she thought.

"I think my shoulders get really stiff and sore because of my crappy chair at work", she said.

She quietly gasped as Jason's hand began to work her flesh, causing her nipples to grow hard under her shirt. Jason saw them when he looked over her shoulder as he moved in closer behind her and gently rested his soft cock between her ass cheeks. As he reached up with his other hand and began massaging both of her shoulders at the same time, she felt his hot breath on the soft, delicate skin of her neck and let out a soft moan.

"That feels fantastic!".

"You're all knotted up. This will ease it out", his voice was a touch darker than before.

"It's easing alright", she said.

***

She was unable to hide her unabashed pleasure and was at the mercy of Jason's thick hands. She felt Jason's cock begin to swell between her ass cheeks. Her breathing became louder and she was no longer able to hide the fact they'd already gone from an innocent massage to sexual pleasure.

Y/N pressed her ass against his hot crotch in response to his hardening cock. It hung swollen between her ass cheeks, separated only by her thin shorts and his sweatpants. Jason didn't say a word as he slowly slid one of his hands down her side to the waistband of her shorts and tugged lightly at her tank top, exposing a small flash of nude skin at her side.

He slid his hand under her shirt, moved it up to her breasts. He grabbed and squeezed, eliciting a passionate moan from Y/N. Jason's cock was a huge, burrowing between her thighs. She pulled his hand out of her shirt and turned around to face him.

She kissed his perfect, lopsided smile as she squeezed his hard cock in her hand. No longer able to contain herself, she tugged hard at it while kissing him between uncontrolled gasps for air. Y/N grabbed him by the hips and pulled him in tight to her, ramming his swollen cock against her pussy as she inserted her tongue deep into his mouth.

"Come here", he growled and tugged her waist.

Y/N turned and led him around the corner to the reading area and he watched her plump ass move side to side as he followed. She sat down on the seat, where she'd been sitting earlier, with Jason standing in front of her. She reached up and slid her fingers between the waistband of his sweatpants and his rock-hard pelvis.

Using both of her hands, she pulled his pants down, in slow motion, and cherished the revealing of his large, hard cock. It sprang forward, protruding from his body and resting mere inches from her face. A small, clear bead of pre-cum had formed at its opening. She took his dripping cock into both of her hands because one hand wasn't able to fully close around his throbbing girth.

"Fuck Jason…", she moaned softly. He wasn’t able to stop the smug smirk tugging at his lips.

She stared at it in awe as she ran her hands up and down and around it, trying to encircle his girth by touching the tips of her index finger and thumb but she couldn't. Y/N stuck her tongue out and licked clean the clear beads running down the underside of its swollen head.

Jason moaned deeply as she pulled his cock deep into her mouth and slowly retracted it while circling the head with her tongue. He placed a hand on the back of her head and gently pressed. She responded by bobbing back and forth faster each time, feeling his cock massage the back of her throat.

The size of Jason's cock wildly turned her on. Jason began slowly, at first, bucking his hips slightly back and forth then started full on thrusts as he pumped his cock in and out of Y/N's mouth as it stretched tightly around him. Y/N put her hands on each of his hips while he fucked her mouth.

As Jason pulled his cock out of Y/N's mouth, strands of saliva fell onto her chest. He grabbed her hand, pulled her up and turned her around. She leaned against the wall, using both of her hands to steady herself. Jason grabbed her tiny shorts, pulled them down to her ankles and put his hand between her legs. Thick, strong fingers parted her puffy, wet lips and, starting at her opening, slid slowly up the smooth inside of her wet lips until they rested on her swollen clit.

"Oh, Jason!".

Jason rubbed her clit with slow, tight, little circles, and used a good amount of pressure as he moved his other hand between her legs. He slid two thick fingers into her aching, wet pussy. She bucked against his large fingers, moving herself up and down on them, as her juices ran down onto his hand. The other hand worked her clit in circles, slowly increasing pressure as she came down faster and harder onto his fingers.

"Make me cum, Jason. Fuck, you're making me cum!", she moaned unabashedly.

Jason rubbed her clit in fast, back and forth motions. His other hand stiffened and pulsed in and out of her pussy until she came hard with his hand inside of her. She moaned, loudly, as she continued to thrust herself up and down on his fingers, slowing as the ecstasy of her orgasm left her body.

***

Jason slowly slid his fingers out of her pussy and stood squarely behind her, putting his hands against the wall on the outside of her hands.

"I want to fuck you so badly", he murmured into her ear, watching the shivers spread over her skin.

Y/N widened her stance, to accommodate Jason, as he slowly moved his huge cock between her legs until it was resting against the outside of her soft, swollen pussy lips. He left it there for a brief moment, smiling as she breathed hard in anticipation of how he was about to stretch and fill her pussy.

With one long, slow, steady motion, he pushed his cock into Y/N until she moaned, hoarsely, as it bottomed out. The pressure of his cock, further stretching her opening, sent euphoric spasms into both of her legs.

He slid himself all the way in until his balls rested firmly against her soft, outer area. He froze there for a moment, filling her insides completely, as her opening tightly gripped his thick, veiny girth. When he flexed inside of her, his cock pressed against every square inch of her insides as his cockhead massaged the depths of her sopping pussy.

She moaned uncontrollably and shuddered, impaled by Jason's large, throbbing cock. No longer able to contain her wanton needs, she thrust hard against him, her ass cheeks bouncing off his hard pelvis.

"Oh, my god, Jason!".

She bit her lower lip at the sheer pleasure of Jason's cock inside of her. Jason took his hands off from the wall, pressed gently on her back, to bend her over further for better access, and grabbed her by the hips. He slid himself in and out of her, his balls slapping against her swollen clit.

Y/N came hard, gushing cum over his thick shaft and balls. Her body quivered and convulsed with the most intense orgasm and she was powerless against the deep, hard thrusts of Jason's cock. He didn't stop or slow down and her pussy gripped him tighter as she continued cumming.

She reached between her legs and felt her soaking outer lips. Y/N reached further back to where her opening was spread wide by Jason's shaft. She laid her hand flat to feel his balls on it as they slammed against her. She squeezed them briefly a few times before he pulled them away, only to slam them against her opening, again.

Y/N massaged his shaft with her hand as he thrust it in and out of her. Jason let out a quick, arrested moan and she knew he was about to cum. Her pussy was already stretched out but, somehow, it accommodated the extra girth as his cock swelled before he came.

"Shit! I'm cumming!".

Y/N grabbed his shaft and balls with her hand, massaging them slowly as he emptied himself into her tight pussy. Jason moaned loudly and heavily as he blasted thick gushes of white-hot cum deep into Y/N's stretched out pussy. He lay his head on her back as he twitched and shook in the final few seconds of orgasm.

***

He was so broad and strong, she felt surrounded by him and full of him at the same time. Jason's body relaxed as he pulled his swollen, sticky cock through Y/N's hand and out of her sopping pussy.

She felt its large head brush her fingertips as his fresh, warm load ran out of her opening, coated her outer lips and ran down her thigh as he pulled out of her. She rubbed his creamy seed into her pussy, coating her fingers in cum and inserting them into her pussy. Thick globs dripped down her thigh in long, sticky lines.

As she turned around, Jason was pulling his pants up. His engorged cock had refused to fully soften. In a daze, Y/N grabbed her little shorts, from around her ankles, and pulled them up, smearing the streaks of Jason's cum on the inside of her legs, soaking the crotch of her shorts as she did so.

Jason watched her with desire filled eyes before clearing his throat, “I think I’ve done this the wrong way round but, fancy a beer Saturday night?”.

***

#jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood x reader insert #red hood smut #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction

[stressedoutcanary]

Late Night Reassurances - Dick Grayson x Reader

Summary:

Dick being an adorably worried dork who blames himself when you get shot. What a shocker

Word count:800

Warning: Implied SMUT, Basically Fluff with a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough, Violence..? I mean the reader got shot soooo...

A/N : Hope you like my 3 AM thinking :)

This is the first time I wrote something and actually finished it sooo I hope you all like it 👉👈

Also I have been thinking about writing for a long time now but I always ended up making excuses. Thinking no one will like it, but I guess I just needed a final push. As cheesy as this is going to sound: @littleredwing89 and @batarella you both are my inspiration.

•°•°•°•°

It was 2 AM and you were on your way to the kitchen for a midnight snack when you heard someone behind you.

Before you could make a guess as to which one of your family member it is, even though you had a hunch it was your boyfriend, Dick Grayson, you heard his deep and playful voice, "So what did I miss beautiful?" You could tell he was amused and you had a pretty good idea as to why.

"Nothing." You replied, making it seem like there is nothing out of the ordinary

"Nothing, huh? Well then I suppose there is a very plausible explanation for there to be three very unfriendly looking, knocked out men near the apartment dumpster?"

Dick raised an eyebrow as if he was expecting an answer. You turned around to face him and you  just shrugged at the man, who gave you such a disapproving look that it rivaled that of the Big Bad Bat.

"It's not my fault they can't let a lady take out her trash in peace. They had it coming when they decided they wanna mug me at gun point and whatnot."

Dick did not seem happy at the answer he received.

"(Y/N)...Babe, you should-"

"Be more careful. I know. I know." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, you continued, "It has been a week since I got shot, the bullet hardly grazed me! I know you want me to take it easy, but I feel fine. Hell! I am pretty sure I can kick your ass right now."

Dick chuckled when he saw the pout on your face. He had to admit he missed having you out on the field, racing up the fire escapes, soaring through the rooftops, laughing alongside him  when he made some really bad puns but even though he knew you can take care of yourself, the thought of you getting hurt because he wasn't there, made his heart clench.

Dick clearly remembered the night you got shot. It was just another mission that went the other way. You were trying to stop the truck loaded with drugs that were being sold in every corner of every alley. You had to stop it. Dick knew you could so he got busy goofing around with a thug, he could have taken down easily. Niether of you had noticed the sniper, on the rooftop of the adjacent building, who proceed to shoot you straight in the gut.

Dick was smiling but you knew him well enough to recognize the faraway look in his eyes which meant he was blaming himself again. There aren't many people in this world who can truly understand him, they don't always see the pain behind his smile, but you do.

You brushed your knuckles over his cheek, forcing him to meet your eyes."I am here, Dick and I am okay, better than okay if I say so myself. I really am but if it makes you feel better I won't go out on patrol for now and I will definitely take it easy for few days more, and the bonus is that we can binge watch our favorite series which I might add, is something we have been trying to do since i don't even remember when, ....Okay?", You whispered as you gave him a reassuring smile.

Upon hearing your words he relaxed a bit. Of course you would know just what to say to put him at ease. Instead of a reply Dick leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You responded eagerly as he cupped your cheeks in his hands to pull your closer. He ran his tongue along your lower lip as you nipped playfully on his lips. Dick's response was a mix of a deep groan and a whine which had you craving for more but you eventually had to pull away due to the lack of breath.

You both were dizzy from the kiss as he pressed your forehead to his.

"(Y/N), I love you but you drive me crazy."

"I like to keep you on your toes, boy wonder." You kissed his neck and made your way to his ear. Dick closed his eyes and let his head hang back. You could feel him shiver as your hot breath fanned over him, biting his earlobe, you whispered. "I love you too."

Then all too suddenly you were gone, Dick's eyes shot open from the loss of your warmth "No offense Grayson but you smell worse than Killer croc", you called out as he saw you walking towards the shower.

You turned around to give him a cheeky grin. "Care to join?" You winked and you swear you have never seen Dick respond so quickly to something you said as he almost tackled you in the bathroom.

°•°•°•°•

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x vigilante! reader #dick grayson fluff #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing imagines #nightwing fluff

[batarella]

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 1

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

 The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: Having a different approach to my formats. I’ve never been so nervous in creating something so difficult to do for you guys, especially since I’m here writing about the THREE HOTTEST MEN IN THE PLANET. Hoes and bros, I present to you a very indecisive reader and three assholes in a WWE ring.

WORDS: 6483 WARNINGS: NONE

 MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

You were there when it happened.

You didn’t want to be there.

But you were.

It would have been an eventful enough day, one of those you’d never live to forget, perhaps even in death. As dramatic as that would sound, it was true. The tears had already beaten you in awakening that dim morning and you knew it wasn’t in any way going to get any brighter, no matter how much of the sun was going to show up. You could, in detail, recall the sting in your muscles when you pulled on that bright orange dress, fixed your hair up in a bun and unenthusiastically put on your makeup. Bruce picked you up and you tried so hard to hide how you were practically dead on arrival to the Richard Grayson and Koriand’r Wedding.

Smiles. Even when they were uncalled for. It was so much more painful to do when it hurt every minute that ticked away, every second that carefully tore out every other smidge of hope you always thought there was. It was on you, then. For thinking there was any at all.

Kory looked stunning down that aisle, of course. Like all the other people in the room were rubbish. You couldn’t even watch her. Or him, standing at the end of that aisle with a smile so bright you wished was caused by anything else but her. But it was.

So you had your eyes closed. Or at least tried to.

Until it happened.

The sister. She looked exactly like Kori, except her flowing mane of hair was jet black and her skin burned red. Eyes were white, everything else she had on was dark. Blackfire.

Then the cheers turned into screams. Flower petals turned into broken glass. The fairy lights and décor turned into fire beams and lasers.

If it weren’t in a room full of superpowered heroes and vigilantes, they all would have died right then and there.

In the end, the wedding got called off. Everything was destroyed. Blackfire was sent to space prison and Dick and Kory had to reschedule the wedding.

Three months later, they still weren’t married.

After four months, Dick broke off their relationship entirely.

Five months passed, Kory went back to Tamaran.

At six months, Dick moved to Gotham from Bludhaven.

You never got to talk to Dick about it, or talk to him at all beyond the small exchanges and light conversations over the dinner table at the manor or the chatter by the fireplace. He never mentioned it. You didn’t want to pry. At times, you’d see how he’d stare at the carpet for a minute too long, how his knee suddenly stopped shaking or fidgeting all of a sudden when he got too deep into his thoughts like how he often did when he was bored, and how his laughs felt just a tad bit softer even when the jokes were hysterical.

Everyone told you to let him be for a while, since not even he could get too close to the subject. They told you what he was up to, how he was feeling that day. You tend to ask a lot. Because if there was anything worse than seeing him with someone else, it was seeing him almost destroy his own life part by part over the loss of his love.

No. You weren’t thrilled over what happened. It didn’t give you hope, or let your mind wander over the endless possibilities of what could happen to you, to him, to you both. And even if you had to try so hard, which you didn’t, you couldn’t possibly allow yourself to have some kind of satisfaction over the tragedy, not even when it supposedly served you, what you wanted.

This wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want him to lose himself. You didn’t want him to be sunken into an abyss he was trying so hard to come out of.

Eventually, you’ll learn to let go. Properly. On your own pace. Not on anyone else’s.

Almost a year since the incident happened. He was okay now. Made the same jokes he always used to. Brightened up every room he went to. Went out with a few women every now and then. Saying you were used to that last one to the point where it didn’t even bother you anymore was both unnerving and understandable.

Everything was lighter now. Better. Dick was okay.

So why were you so nervous today?

Two pm. He was going to arrive any minute.

Dammit. That canvas. Lying on the floor like you were some kind of slob in a swamp. You went over and placed it against the wall. Plop, it fell right off. Cursing and fixing it up against all the other canvases up in the corner, everything just started to topple down like fucking dominos. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

You grabbed all the canvases with as much as your arms could carry, frantically looked around your little studio for some kind of rope you could tie these together just so they wouldn’t explode in anyone’s face.

Ding.

“Shiiiii-“

The fucking doorbell, and you didn’t even have any arms to open the door with. You looked to your bedroom, then to your kitchen. Fuck. There was a drawer-shit, it fell to the floor-a drawer right by your bed. You scrambled with your knees shaking harder than the San Andreas fault.

Ding.

“Just a minute!!!”

You stacked them on top of each other, shoved them under your bed, then fixed the mess of a cobweb that was your hair. The mirror must have been kind to you ‘cause you could have sworn you looked like a hobo by now. But there wasn’t any time for that.

Foggy throat cleared, face calm and cool (you hoped), you ran to the door and shook off the nerves.

“Hi, Di-” The door slammed open, only for it to almost pull off the hinges with the chain lock still on. Frantically, you closed it , took off the lock, then swung it again.

“Hi.”

Dick had his hands in his pockets, jacket as blue as his eyes and as bright as the glimmer in its irises. His smile brought both calm and chaos within your veins.

“Sorry. I, uh-“ your thumb pointed to your apartment. “I was cleaning.”

Cleaning?

“That’s okay. Can I come in?”

Poor thing was shivering. “Of course!”

Dick stepped into your apartment and dusted off his clothes. You took his jacket. “Thanks.” Then he ran his long fingers along his black strands.

Putting his coat over the rack, you pulled out the pillows from your lounge chair. “Sit here.”

“It’s fine.” His smile lightened up the room. “Thank you though.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Just water. Thanks.”

While you went into the kitchen, fumbling with the glass and water pitcher from the fridge, you called out to him. “You can go ahead to my studio!”

“Thanks,” you heard him call you back, then you followed him into the room, handing him the glass.

You already had the paintings lined up for him. Three canvases. Sitting up against the wall in a laid back, almost effortless looking arrangement when in fact, it was a lot of effort. You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard.

“Christ,” he walked over to the one in the middle. The most recent one you did, one of a birds eye view of the ocean right by the Gotham City docks. “How did you even get this shot?”

“I-uh,” you stood beside him. “It’s a shot from the Batwing. Bruce gave me the footage.”

“And that one?”

Times Square. The building was the only thing on the canvas, but there was so much detail on the windows, on the balconies, and even the neon lights right at the top.

“I took pictures from the street across. They wouldn’t let me stay there with an aisle and all my tools.”

His one knee laying on the ground, Dick took an even closer look at the tower. “Is that a person in the window?”

You looked down. “Yeah…”

“These are incredible.” Dick looked up at you. “I think I’d insult you if I tell you I’m surprised.”

“Well. It was your idea to focus on painting. The blames on you.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, marveling over the canvas. “This is natural talent right here.”

You wished you could bite back the smile as much as you would have liked, but at least his head was turned away.

“How much for these?”

“No. Actually,” you swallowed. “Those are just samples. I wanna make something for you from scratch. Really personalized, you know?”

“Seriously?”

You nodded. “Since you’re permanently moving back to the manor, I thought it would make a good welcome back present.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, looking over to you bashfully even when he’s most often the most confident person in the room. You smiled back, but you doubt it was as addicting to watch as his own.

“If it’s not too much trouble-“

“Not at all.”

“I’m really liking this one, though,” He pointed at the third one. One of Bludhaven. From a shot of the city he sent to you himself. Most of the time, you had to work with pictures, and the moment he sent that to you, you just knew you had to paint it. Not for him. For you.

“I’ll make you another one.”

“Y/N-“

“And you don’t have to pay-“

“That, I won't agree to.”

“Dick, it’s a present.”

“This is my way of supporting you. Artists should never do this for free.”

When he placed his hand on your shoulder, you knew there wasn’t any use arguing. He didn’t even know. He’s given you so much support no monetary value could compare to. You didn’t need money.

That, or he didn’t think this present was anything more than a favor or an item to purchase. It shouldn’t be. You knew that. And still you wanted it to be more than that.

Yeah. You were probably making a goof out of yourself if you wouldn’t submit.

This wasn’t a rejection. Telling yourself that should make you feel better.

“Thank you.”

You didn’t look into his eyes when he started walking around the room, at all the other paintings you had laid out. You had a few portraits. One of Bruce, from when he asked you to do one for him a month ago and you still hadn’t finished until now. Who knew his usual scowl was so hard to do? Then there were more landscapes of the city.

“Gotham’s your muse, huh?”

“She’s beautiful when she isn’t so full of shit,” you laughed.

One of more skyscrapers that you laid out to look like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Another of your works in progress. “I like this one.”

You were right behind Dick as he walked around, taking closer looks at each of them. A few drawings were up on the walls.

“Is that us?”

You went over to his side. “Yeah… It’s a painting I want to do.”

A rough sketch of the whole family. Bruce standing at the top most of the manor’s grand staircase. Dick on the step below. Then Jason leaning against the railing, the only one who wasn’t smiling. Tim sitting with his knees up. Barbara looking beautiful in a bright smile on the same step as Tim. Then Steph sitting on the railway. You standing right beside Steph, arm wrapped around her. Cass with her arms crossed. Duke at the bottom . Then of course, the kid who practically owned the whole manor, little Damian on the ground, at the center with a smug grin and his arms up his chest.

Even if people were to take a second look, they’d think you were a normal, functional family.

“This,” Dick’s jaw was on the ground. “Deserves to be up in the fireplace.”

You snorted. “I haven’t even started on it yet.”

“Oh, I don’t mean the painting. This drawing alone is fantastic.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you.”

Biting his lips, he had that same simper of disbelief radiating through even more compliments you couldn’t answer to. You let it get to you. For a while.

It wasn’t exactly going to get any better.

Though your definition of better, shouldn’t be at there all.

“Y/N, I can’t thank you enough.”

You held up your hand. “You’ve been gone from home for too long. I’m just glad your back.”

He walked down to the three paintings you had out for him. “So these paintings are just samples?”

“Yeah. I wanna know which kind you prefer, since you only asked of one of the city. It can be neither of them. Just something that you actually want in your room.”

“Y/N, these are all so amazing as it is.”

“Still.”

Were you doing too much? Were you asking too much? Were you giving too much?

Most fucking probably.

But then he gave you that smile again, the one you dream about for years. One that’s driven you to do so many good things, for others and for yourself.

Your response was with a smile of your own, though it carried with it some remnant of pain from his wedding day.

“So… which one would you like?”

He looked at the paintings again.

“Bludhaven. I guess it would be nice to have some part of it in my room.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

“Trust me. Don’t feel any pressure. I can promise myself this will be the best thing ever.”

Your eyes were stuck to your feet, because if you looked up at his own, you weren’t sure what you might end up saying.

“Thank you. It means a lot. Coming from you.”

His eyebrows were up to his forehead. “Really? I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t like your work.”

Yeah. But it’s not the same when it’s coming from you, you asshat.

“I’ll uh-“ You rushed over to your sketchbooks, pulled out your pencil and went over beside Dick. He was smiling at you. “What do you think about the skyline looking like this? Like it was taken from eastern bay.”

You did a quick outline of skyscrapers and a bridge extending to one side, a lone island and clouds on top of it. He nodded. “That looks great.”

“Alright,” you looked up, saw the slight lines at the corners of his eyes and the even more miniscule details on his face that was staring back at you.

“Nice sketchbook.”

“Oh,” you grinned at it, looking over the knitted covers and the expensive looking paper that had hundreds of leaves within its spine. “Thank you. I get one of these every year.”

“You buy them yourself?”

“I don’t. They’re way too expensive.” You placed it on the table. “I get them as a gift.”

“From who?”

“I, uh...” you didn’t want to get into this. “Anyway, would you like to stay over?”

Dick shook his head. “I’d love to, but I have to get going. Some other errands to run. Sorry.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Hands fidgeting, then stopping when you realized they were fidgeting, Dick stood in front of you and beamed with his million dollar smile. You tried not to look back up at him.

“How are you, Y/N?”

You chuckled. “I’m okay.”

“We’d all love for you to come back to the manor…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Lips in your teeth, he didn’t look like he was expecting much of a response other than a bashful smile and a shake in your head.

“I mean… I’d love for you to come back to the manor.”

Eyebrows up, you stared back at him. “You would?”

“Of course. It’s been a long since we just hung out. Stop over every once in a while.”

“I, uh-“ you swallowed. “I actually do have to go there next week. Bruce is asking me to send over his pieces.”

“Cool. I’ll see you then.”

You went with him to the door, watched him put on his jacket. “I’ll call”

“Come on, don’t act like I’m some stranger, Y/N.”

It was sad, how casual it was when he pulled you with his arms. His embrace wasn’t so tight, but it was warm. Nose stuck to his shoulder and masking your other raging emotions with a light laugh, you closed your eyes and let the split second last longer than it actually did.

Yeah. You still had it bad. No matter what you seemed to do, it just wouldn’t go away.

He swayed about, patting your back. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And,” he pointed his hand at you, then scrunched it up to a fist. “Send me a list of movies you wanna watch. We’ll go through a few of them at the manor. Like we used to.”

“With everyone else?”

“Nah,” he placed his hands in his pockets. “Just us.”

He walked out the door. You closed it behind him and placed the chain lock back.

That encounter lasted ten, fifteen minutes?

It felt both longer and shorter than that. Like a thousand years and a millisecond were the same length.

You were just thankful you didn’t mess up or do anything as embarrassing as you worried it might be.

But it wasn’t as if it was new, or that the nerves and the chills and the blood rushing about was anything you weren’t already used to. Careful around him, sure. You had been since you first met him. But terrified? Nah.

You can be so used to walking around coals and fire and not be afraid of getting burned, yet still have it in you to wear something to protect your skin. Just for the sake of surviving. To get through it smoothly. So it wouldn’t hurt as much.

You slumped onto the lounge chair he didn’t take and closed your eyes. You let the hours pass. You let the clock tick away.

Then you jumped at the buzzing in your pocket. Blinking away the beginnings of a nap, you took your phone.

“Tim?”

“Y/N. You free tonight?”

Two hours had passed since Dick left.

“Yeah. What are you up to?”

“Work. I need company.”

“You sure Bruce is okay with you not going to patrol?”

“He has everyone else. Come on. I’m spending the night at the office.”

“Why me?“

“You can bring your sketchbook. ‘Sides. You haven’t been out of the house for a while.”

“The pictures you send me are good enough source material.”

“You draw a lot better when you’re seeing it with your own eyes.”

Standing from your chair and moving over to get your sketchbook and pencils, you scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know where to meet me.”

He hung up, then you scurried around to get your coat.

-----

“Ms. Y/LN.”

You nodded at the doorman, bag over your shoulder. A number of people were already rushing out of the elevators even when it had only been a minute after office hours, so you had to wait a while before an empty one came down for you.

50th floor. A few minutes of silence in the elevator, then you walked out into a dimmed-out hallway where the other employees had already deserted. The farthest end was a door, unlocked just as Tim said. You stepped inside his office and shrugged yourself off your jacket. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Tim had his reddening eyes glued to his laptop screen, not even giving you a glance up. Tapping away at the keys, you stretched out and basked in the blowing warmth, at the heater that was running at the side. Holding your hands up at the whiff of air, Tim fell to the back of his seat.

“Christ, my back.”

You snickered. “We do tend to get arthritis even when we’re barely into our twenties.”

“No. We usually don’t.”

“Not if you’re Tim Drake.” You walked over to his desk. “What are you working on?”

“Stuff that Bruce shouldn’t be asking from me in two days. A report on why and how we’ll be able to extend to the west coast, if it’s even possible.”

“Wow. Are you endorsing it?”

“I invented it.”

You brushed back the hair he hadn’t even noticed had fallen into his eyes. One of the reasons why it was almost bulging red. Your exhausted best friend took your hand away and snarled, though it wasn’t without a smirk.

“Then quit complaining. If it’s your idea, it’s your job.”

“I complained about back pains, not the work.”

You leaned back against the table and watched him type.

“Are you really spending the night here?”

“As long as I have to. Then I head back to the manor.”

“And you want me to stay?”

He stopped typing and looked up at you, eyes wide. “Please.”

“Fine.”

You settled yourself on the couch near his desk. “What have you been working on lately?” he asked.

Shrugging, your eyes were on the ceiling. “The portraits for Bruce, mostly. And the portrait of Bruce.”

“I assume that must be dreadful.”

“It’s hard painting his jaw and not give away the fact that he has Batman’s jaw.” You held your hand out. “You just need to cover his eyes and squint. And boom, his identity’s given away. Can’t do that in person but you certainly can to a painting he wants on his foyer that everybody’s gonna see.”

“I never actually thought Bruce wants that.”

“Neither did I.”

“What are his other requests?”

“One of Thomas and Martha. One of the manor.”

“The man wants a painting of the manor in the manor?”

“Yup.”

“When you have the money, I guess.”

“I know. He’s paying me five months’ worth of rent.”

Tim rubbed on the corner of his eye, his hands hovering motionless over his keyboard for a second. You looked over to him.

“You don’t have to, you know. If you just move back with us.”

“I know.”

“You sure you don’t want to? With Dick around now?”

Mouth ever so slightly curving up the side, a long breath escaped your nostrils. “I’m over him.”

“You sure about that?”

When you turned back up to the ceiling, closed your eyes while you had your arms hugging your chest, you heard him tapping on his keyboard after a few seconds of you not answering his question.

“He came over to your house today?”

“Yeah. I’m doing a piece for him.”

“What of?”

“Bludhaven. For his room.”

“Welcome back gift, ey?”

“Yeah. I hope he likes it.”

It almost seemed like he snorted at that. “He’d be stupid not to. I was also gonna ask you to do a piece for me.”

Your eyebrow raised even with your eyes closed. “Really?”

“Yeah. For my office.”

“Tim, I’m doing just fine. I’m not exactly surrounded by butlers and limos but it doesn’t mean I’m struggling.”

“Hey, don’t take it that way,” he said. “We all just love your work.”

“A bit too much, if you ask me.”

“You get better everyday. We’re appreciating it just enough. Like how you deserve to be appreciated.”

You didn’t take that to heart.

This painting all started as a way to let out the trauma, to get out of a life that had taken its toll on you the worst way it possibly could.

This was them feeling bad for you. This was a charity.

It didn’t, however, mean you were going to say no.

You hated it, but you weren’t stupid enough to refuse the cash. You liked having nice things.

“What piece would you like me to do?”

“Your call. You know what I like.”

‘Almost everything then, that’s what you wanted to say back.

A while of lounging around on the couch. A few hours, perhaps. You might have taken a nap, because your head had gone foggy and your eyes were salty when you awoke and the sky had gone completely dark.

“Tim, you should take a break.”

Was that his third cup of coffee sitting on his desk?

Again, with his hair covering his eyes, he had his one hand over his lips, eyes narrowed onto the blue screen that looked painful staring back at him so brightly. He sighed, then rubbed his eyelids with his fingers.

“Come on.” You took his jacket and threw it at him. “Take me up the balcony. Get some air.”

He looked too exhausted to speak. But after you’d gone over to his side and pushed his shoulder, he hissed and closed his laptop. “Fine, jeez.”

Tim looked like a polar bear pulled out of his iceberg when you had him off his desk. He shuffled into his coat, then you both walked out of the room and into the elevators. You held onto your sketchbook and a few pencils.

The balcony at the 70th floor. You haven’t been there for a while. You actually haven’t been in Wayne Tower the past few months at all. So when you stepped out, walked down the hall until you reached the balcony, the heights, the winds, the lights, and the stuttering noises went straight through you, gave you that static-like image that usually resonated within your senses when you sketched out Gotham City.

You sat on the marble railing, swung your legs up on the ledge and placed your sketchbook against your knees.

“You sure you wanna do that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop acting like I didn’t use to jump across rooftops.”

Tim was stifling a laugh, not sure if he should. So you pulled out an empty page and started with LexCorp a few blocks away from you. Tim went to sit next to you, then pressed his back against yours while pulling his feet up the same position. He was warm, leverage enough so your back wouldn’t end up hurting after a few minutes. He let you have your silence.

A wide balcony. Half of the page should be of it alone. Though it was just the silhouette, you traced out how the railings looked like if you were standing a few feet back.

Your head tilted to the left the way it does when you went on with your work.

You felt Tim’s back rise, then slowly soften.

“You alright back there?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“You don’t feel like it.”

“I am.” You felt his shoulder slightly brush against yours. You just shook it off then let the edge of the pencil flow lightly over what should be the sky.

A few more minutes, then a helicopter flew over your heads. When it went away, Tim’s head suddenly fell back to your shoulder.

Warmth. Like what he’s always given you. You stayed as still as you could and let the smile that was eventual and gradual creep up your lips.

“You’ll fall off if you fall asleep on me.”

“I think all that coffee’s not going to make me fall asleep for the next few days.”

Laughing, you just let him lean against you. then his head shifted so he was looking over your shoulder.

“That’s looking good.”

“You think?” You held up the notebook. “That’s us.”

Two kids sitting on the railings, with the view of the city right at their feet. Backs up against each other, shaded with the darkest black. The girl was leaning against the boy’s shoulder, quite the opposite of what was actually going on.

You felt Tim smile his mouth off. “Can I have that?”

“Hold on. Lemme finish this.”

The bat signal. Shining right at the horizon. Then you went over more of the details. The tiny lights on the windows. The helicopter that just passed by. The ocean far off.

Tim was watching you.

Not your hand. Or the drawing.

You.

A few more minutes, then you carefully ripped the page off the book. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

He folded it up, then carefully put it into his pocket. Then he placed his head against your shoulder again.

You did the same.

“I missed you.”

You laughed. “It’s not like we don’t see each other often.”

“I know. I miss seeing you everyday.”

Your head up at the sky, heart in your throat.

“Me too…”

Then you found yourself closing your eyes.

Legs dangling off the ledge on opposite sides, you both spent the next hour in silence, leaning against each other.

You and Tim on the rooftops. Just the two of you. Laughing. Sharing a drink. Doing homework even.

They were always the best times.

“Shit,” he looked at the time on his phone. “Come on. If I can finish half of it in three hours, we might actually get to go back to the manor to get some sleep.”

“Tim-“

“Just a night,” he slipped off onto the ground, then everything felt so much colder around you. “Please. Everyone’s out anyway.”

You shut your eyes.

But even when you expected yourself to decline, you ended up nodding and sliding your torso to turn back towards the building, . “Fine. But only because you’re taking me- Fuck…”

You moved too fast. You fucking moved too fast. Shit.

“Y/N, don’t move-“

Tim rushed to your legs, held his hands over the back of yours that was touching the metal where flesh and skin was supposed to be.

You tried to flinch away how you always do when someone does so much as lay a finger on you or your fucking limb when it was uncalled for, but Tim’s hands were soft and gentle. And you were also 70 stories above ground so jumping away wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Tim, I’m fine-“

“Let me help.”

“I’m fine… shit…”

Stinging nerves, all the way up your thigh when you tried to move it yourself. That’s when Tim ignored you and went ahead to hold it himself.

It was too late into the night for you to argue. So you pulled your hands away and let him slide your leg over the railing, dangling it onto the edge towards him.

“May I?”

Now facing him, both legs hanging just inches away from the ground, you placed your weight on your hands and nodded.

Tim knelt in front of you, then pulled your loose jeans up to your knee.

You felt disgusted at yourself, and you hated how he wasn’t, hands over the silver steel that replaced your skin, at the rods and wires that replaced your bones, where tiny stubs of metal stuck out in place of actual toes. You held your breath, then Tim looked up at you, hands soothing just below your knee.

He didn’t look like he pitied you. There was that.

That, or he just mastered the art of hiding his pity and instead, look at you like he was just trying to take care of you.

Which he was. You weren’t about to rob him of that credit.

Tim unlatched the bionic limb, then pulled it off of what was left of your leg. A stub of skin, where it had healed about three inches down from your knee, was burning red.

“Must have caused a bit of stress.”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine. It happens a lot.”

Tim’s fingers over the marks of pink, you felt how gentle he was, the callous that had formed over the years, at the warmth that came with his palms rubbing over your skin. Your eyes were all on him.

Then he looked up at you, without stopping his hands.

Another set of blue eyes, quite different from the last pair you saw earlier that day. Though it must have been because of the dark, his reflected the light from the city skyline just a bit better.

Tim looked at you the same way he always did for years. It didn’t make your skin fluster, or your stomach churn.

You felt at home.  

You smiled at him, then he smiled back before he looked back down at your leg.

Tim was the only one you’d ever let do this.

After a longer while of massaging your knee, he placed the bionic leg back into place and latched it up.

“Try moving it around.”

This limb costed millions of dollars and only you had a robot leg as good as fucking Cyborg’s, and still it pained when you moved two seconds too fast. You moved your toes about, swayed your ankle. Still with a slight sting, but you could brush it off. Tim pulled your jeans back down and helped you off the railing.

He didn’t speak much on the way down back to his office, and he let you have your nap on his couch for a few more hours while he worked away.

Though, you couldn’t exactly sleep.

You weren’t sure if you were bothered, anxious, or pleased, and you hated how you still considered that last one.

It was in the way he looked at you, touched you so gently. You could tell. You could definitely tell. You told Tim years ago to promise you that he’d stop. And he said he would. Turns out he couldn’t keep that promise.

Tim still loved you.

Carefully, without him noticing, you looked back over your shoulder and watched him crouch over his laptop the way that was going to strain his back for the next three months. And you weren’t sure if you liked that it made you smile, when you took too much time watching his eyes and his lips and even his nose scrunching up like a rabbit’s.

You’d think years after you decided to be just friends, and ended up being best friends would let you both move on completely. He dated Steph for a while, even. And still, he wasn’t friends with her now the way he was with you.

It wasn’t at all awkward. It didn’t have to be.

But maybe it wasn’t for the reason you thought.

The sketchbook. The really expensive one you always used up after a few months. It costed about a hundred dollars per piece, and you get one every single year along with other art materials like charcoal pencils and canvases and paint.

And they always arrived right at your door every Valentine’s morning.

No name. No tag.

You thought it was from Bruce at first, like how he continued to spoil you with just about everything else with commissions and pieces he didn’t even need but claimed to want for his new mantle at the office or a wall in one of his condos.

But it was all too intimate and personal.

After the third year, you found out it was from him.

You could tell with how it was all wrapped and carefully arranged. Only from his hands, and how gentle they can be when he held you…

You fell asleep on that couch, clutching the sketchbook to your chest.

----

It was past five in the morning when Tim finally stood up from his desk. You were well into your sleep, then you felt his hand on your shoulder, shrugging you awake.

“Huh?”

“Come on. Let’s get some sleep at the manor.”

Groaning into the couch’s fabric, Tim took fifteen minutes pulling you to stand until he finally got you on your feet. He helped you with your coat, then on the taxi home you fell asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep with his cheek on your head.

You got to the manor, stretched out, then just as the sun had fully greeted you, you both walked into the foyer. Alfred was still freshly awoken.

“Master Tim, where on earth have you been?”

“The office.”

“The off- never mind. Miss Y/N, I’m happy to see you.”

“Hey Alfred,” you yawned and gave the butler a hug.

“Will you be sleeping in your room?”

“Yes please.”

He nodded, then you and Tim walked over to the steps.

“Wait.” You backed away. “I want water. You go ahead.”

The zombie that was Tim Drake didn’t even turn his head to you as he lugged himself up the stairs. You dragged your feet to the kitchen, stretching out your arms. It was way too fucking early for this.

You reached into the fridge and grabbed the ice-cold pitcher of water, held up an empty glass, then poured it in.

You brought the glass up to your lips.

You closed the fridge door.

Then felt the freezing cold surge up your nose, your eyes pop open from the crust and saltiness that had formed over your eyelids, then your throat started to close up and you coughed the water out of your hacking mouth.

“J-Jason?”

A towel covered his face when he first walked in, which meant his arm was up and his muscles were flexing when his bulked up bare chest was practically screaming into your eyes. Eight pack abs. Pecs stronger than steel. Ripples on his sides. And his fucking arms that could tear apart a block of wood in one pull.

It was too much of a convenience that he was rubbing the sweat off his hair so much that he couldn’t see you with your jaw on the ground. Every muscle in your body tightened, screamed, then just as Jason looked up at you, drenched hair flopping onto his eyes, you immediately looked away and pretended your own throat wasn’t choking you right then.

He walked towards you. Fuck.

“Hey, pretty bird.”

That low, husky voice…

You nodded. “H-hey,” you choked. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, then you opened the fridge once again to pour in even more water.

“I came with Tim. I was with him in the office.”

“Oh,” he leaned against the counter right beside you, and all your eyes that were fucking defying you right then could look at were the veins popping out of his biceps.

“Why are you here?”

He pouted. “I always train this early.”

“You come here all the way from your apartment at five in the morning?”

“Since a few days ago, yeah.”

“Why?”

He scoffed. “No gym on earth has Bruce’s equipment.”

“Ah.” You went through the whole glass again. The sweat was starting to pour down his chest.

Placing it onto the kitchen counter just inches away from Jason’s body, you were practically floating out of the kitchen. As fast as you could. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Bye, pretty bird.”

Up the stairs. Into your old room. Away from anyone else.

You fell to your bed, but you couldn’t sleep a single wink.

And you weren’t even sure why.

Or who.

-----

 MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

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#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #batfam #batfamily #robins #dc comics #reader insert #batboys x reader #nightwing #red hood #red robin #3 birds 1 stone #3 birds 1 stone series #batarella #batarella series

[americasmarauders]

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2. 

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned.  no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it. 

words: 11,416

mastelist

#

#

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her. 

 Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school. 

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain. 

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes. 

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something  books couldn’t even soothe. 

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head -  words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him. 

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at. 

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours. 

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite. 

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off  a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.  

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it. 

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth. 

“Fast reader?” she asked. 

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him. 

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent. 

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way. 

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts. 

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized. 

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter. 

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself. 

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were. 

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself -  good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did,  “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind. 

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened. 

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him. 

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to.  #

#

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve. 

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise. 

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks. 

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that. 

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf,  “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous. 

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot. 

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her. 

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter. 

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion. 

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful. 

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him. 

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him. 

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned. 

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless. 

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes. 

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault. 

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony. 

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was. 

#

#

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of  incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind. 

 Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had  only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time  she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong. 

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her. 

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain. 

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough. 

She picked a single memory and entered it. 

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened. 

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought. 

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said. 

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation. 

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started. 

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it. 

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him. 

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her. 

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him.  She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

#

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help. 

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves. 

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused. 

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before. 

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her. 

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering. 

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

#

#

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily. 

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid. 

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

 “How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves. 

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant. 

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad. 

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible,  he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to. 

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her. 

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain. 

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else. 

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks. 

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes. 

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes. 

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

#

#

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. 

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk. 

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return. 

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently. 

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it. 

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head.  It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding. 

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be. 

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.” 

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it. 

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards. 

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet. 

#

#

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person. 

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day. 

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically. 

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind. 

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold. 

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted. 

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it. 

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door. 

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time. 

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily. 

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words. 

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out. 

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem. 

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true. 

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared. 

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out. 

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together. 

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before.  “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips. 

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry. 

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly.  “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor. 

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others. 

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down. 

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head. 

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. 

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before. 

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his.  “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

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