Being on call with older bf! frank is simultaneously the absolute best and worst thing ever. At first the call was nothing, just you updating him on everything he was missing while he left you at home to fend for yourself. He was saying all the right things at the moment that you wanted to hear.
Saying how much he missed you, how good you probably looked waiting for him to get back, how he couldn't wait to get back home to you. Soon enough he could feel his pants tightening at the thought of you on the other. You could hear his belt being unbuckled in the middle of your rant making your freeze.
"Frankie, what are you doing?"
"Just miss you so much sweetheart. Think you could do something f' me? Hm? Wanna hear you fuck yourself for your Frankie."
His gruff voice as he tells you to push your fingers deeper into you makes you crave so damn bad, you couldn't help but do as he asked. You pushed your boxers down just enough to slide your hands between your legs. Frank let out a raspy chuckle, working his hand up and down his dick. A harsh hiss left his lips when his finger ran across the slit to collect the precum forming.
"Missing me baby? Fuck. Know I've missed you so much. Been thinking bout fucking you since I left. Keep fucking my fist to the thought of you, thought of that pretty mouth of yours. Gonna suck me real good when I get home yeah?"
“I thought you knew how to braid.” You look in the mirror.
“I do.”
“Really?” You turn your head to the side to check out the “braid” he attempted to do. “Cause that’s not how it’s supposed to look.”
Jason shrugs, grabbing the sides of your head and turning it back. “I’d do a lot better if you didn’t tease me.”
You scoff. “How is you being a bad braider my fault?”
“It just is.” He mutters, undoing the braid to restart again until it’s up to your standards. “Now shh.”
You smile at your boyfriend in the mirror. He’s got that determined look on his face that you love so much. The braid wasn’t that bad, but you just had to tease him. You wouldn’t be his very loving girlfriend if you didn’t.
“You could have kept it, Jay.” You say, watching his hands thread slowly through your hair, needing to perfect the braid for you.
“You said you hated it.”
Your brows rise at his lie. “Now you’re just putting words in my mouth.”
“I’d put a cookie in your mouth to get you to hush and let me focus.” He fires back softly, a small grin on his face as he is amused by his own joke.
You huff, slouching in your chair and letting Jason perfect his craft.
And about three minutes later, he’s done with the braid and turns your head to the side so you can get a glimpse of it.
He looks down at you, hopeful that you’ll like it.
It wasn’t perfect. Not at all. But because your boyfriend did it with pure love and admiration, it was perfect to you. A smile makes its way to your lips.
“It’s perfect.” You look up at him. “Thank you, Jay.”
His cheeks turn a light pink and he looks away to avoid your gaze. “You’re just saying that.”
You laugh softly and stand to your feet. You softly grab his face to force him to look at you. “No, I’m saying it because it’s perfect because you did it.”
He grins, arms coming around your waist and pulling you flush into him.
Your arms fly around his neck, gently pulling his face down towards yours. “I love you.”
༄ tagsᝰ.ᐟ: fluff, jason blows smoke in reader's mouth, kissing, no use of y/n
༄ have you ever tried this one?
"can we get these too?" you're already tossing a pack of sour patch kids into the basket before he can respond. stuffing, what is now?, your third item into the basket, despite orginally stopping in for another pack of cigarettes, he swears he's trying to kick the habit, and some condoms. jason doesn't mind. he expects an extra item or two to be tossed into the basket whenever he "takes you out" its cemented into your routine by this point, the not-quite-your-girlfriend-tax, tacked onto his bill. some sickeningly domestic fallacy. there is no you and him, not really, just an dance between two idoits who refuse to say how they feel just tiptoeing around the line but never crossing it.
"you don't gotta ask" he replies fondly, tossing a pack of marlboro reds into the basket.
the cashier looks disinterested as he rings up your items, one of the perks of shopping so late you suppose. "this all?" the cashier asks with a yawn, the bodega is empty besides you three, his tired eyes briefly flick between you two as you stand at the counter, some distorted pop song leaking out the store's speakers. jason slides over the cash and the cashier catalogs it into the register. before the yellowed printer screeches, the ancient thing struggling to spit out your receipt, eventually the cashier rips it out the machine, sliding it your way, alongside your items.
only to be greeted by a cold burst of air as soon as you exit through the automatic sliding doors, sending a chill down to your fingertips. gotham is always freezing this time of year. coated in a layer of muddied snow that squishes beneath your boots, as you make your way down the sidewalk. your hand intertwined with jason's free one. plastic bag rustling from the slight breeze.
♡
the streets are empty at this time of night, silent, besides the familiar distant sirens. leaving you and jason alone outside his apartment complex. jason leans against the brick wall, cheeks rosy from the cold, as he impatiently digs into the plastic bag, pulling out the box of malboro's, and slipping one of the cigarettes between his lips.
"lemme light it" you step into his view. his hot breath fans over your forehead. bodies pressed closer together as you slip an hand into his pocket. fingers tickling the assortment of trinkets cluttering up his pockets before finally landing on the lighter. thumb brushing over the emblem as you wrap it into your fist.
"your pockets are so full." you comment, bringing the lighter to the end of his cigarette. flicking it on and igniting the cigarette butt.
he pauses, taking a slow drag from the cigarette. smoke swirling around in his mouth before he blows the smog out away from your face.
"'s all your stuff" he amuses, free hand burrowing into his pocket and picking out an variety of items. some hair-ties you've left behind, old receipts, gum wrappers, and a tube of lip gloss, all of which have now found home in his pockets. causing you to bite back a smile in an effort to suppress the butterflies blooming in your chest, as they so often do in moments like these.
"whatever" you mumble, biting at the inside of your cheek to slow the progression of the smile forming on your features.
"mhm 'whatever'" he mimics before bringing the cigarette back to his lips.
"ya' know these are bad for you?" you tease mimicking his accent, continuing the familiar banter playing out between you two.
"oh yeah? who would've guessed?" he retorts. the conversation slowing to a comfortable silence. you huddle next to him, tucking your body into his for warmth, eyes locked on his lips, mesmerized by the smoke spilling from in between them. there's something romantic about it all. the way the smoke kisses his skin before dissipating into the winter air. the silence only lasts so long before that familiar pulse of want weasels into your brain. urging you to move.
"lemme try" you interrupt the silence, fingers stretching towards the cigarette. jason raises an eyebrow, wrapping a hand around your wrist, and stopping your pursuit.
"didn't you just tell me how bad these are for me?" he murmurs, fingers still wrapped around your wrist, before sliding between your digits, intertwining your fingers again. "yeah, but i'm curious about all the hype" you ration.
he sighs, slowly untangling his fingers from yours, and resting them around them the cigarette. he could never deny you, not at the bodega, or at his apartment, when you coax him into to sitting through another avant-garde movie you picked out, and definitely not now, with you so close he could practically count your eyelashes. he leans in, cupping a hand over your chilled cheek, taking a quick drag from his cigarette, chapped lips ghosting over yours before blowing a small amount of smoke into your mouth.
"happy?" he whispers, lips still hovering over your own, waiting for you to exhale so he can kiss you properly. so you take your time. holding onto the smoke, to the almost kiss for awhile longer, before blowing out the nicotine. jason tastes like smoke, the flavor of ash still resides on his tongue as it tangles with yours. you hum contently, heart swelling in your chest, pressing further into him, tangling your fingers into his hair deepening the kiss. hes gotten you addicted, his taste, his touch, its never enough.
"cmon let's go inside" he reluctantly pulls away from your lips when he feels you shivering and slips his hand back into yours. tossing the cigarette butt onto the pavement and stomping it out with his boot.
♡
"you hungry?" he asks, eyes flicking over to you, who's perched at the island, digging through the plastic bag pulling out whatever you previously tossed into the basket, as he adjusts the thermostat, turning the heat up because he knows you run cold.
"not really" you respond, lips still buzzing from the kiss, from him. its jason's turn to invade your space this time, slotting himself between your legs and looking down at you.
"not at all?" his voice is lower now as he reiterates his question. snapping your attention from the pack of sour patch kids you we're tearing open "maybe a little." you glance up at him, sour crystals stuck to your lips.
"you're so messy" he amused, leaning down to kiss you again, licking the crystals off your lips. thumbs gently swiping over your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours. filling his mouth with the sugary remnants stuck to your tongue. a almost violent juxtaposition to the ash from earlier. if jason had one wish he'd ask for this to last forever, the two of you pressed together sharing candy coated kisses, in his kitchen.
Warning: no mentions of readers gender, batman slander? somewhat suggestive, everyone is of age.
You unknowingly praise their second identity in front of them.
Dick G.
You were sitting on your phone with your best friend, chatting about the latest catastrophes in Gotham when she brought up Nightwing.
"Oh girl, did you hear about the spotting of Nightwing last night? He was helping Batman and, oh my God, he looked sooo good," she giggled.
"Oh my—no I didn't. Send it to me, like, NOW."
You might have a slight crush on Nightwing from the one night he saved you from a drugged-up burglar. He carried your work bags and walked you home. Ever since then, you've fallen for him.
A smile took over your face as your phone dinged back to back with blurry pictures of Nightwing.
"OH MY GOSH! He looks so good, especially the last one. Very cinematic." You chuckled, referring to the photo of him standing on the ledge of a building, slightly looking back as the city lights illuminated his silhouette. He could star in a movie.
"God, I wish he'd come to Gotham all the time!"
"Whatcha lookin' at?" You jumped at the sound of your boyfriend's voice.
"Oh—uh, nothing. Just looking at some photos." You felt bad for lying.
"Hm. What photos?" He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, causing his shirt to rise and show off his V-line.
You swallowed thickly, eyeing him up and down. He was wearing gray sweats that hung too low and a black muscle tank he had cropped himself. Talk about an '80s heartthrob.
"It's just photos my friend sent." You could hear her giggling through the phone, saying something along the lines of, "You're in trouble."
"Shut up, I'll call you later." You quickly pressed the red button and locked your phone.
Dick approached the bed, plopping down beside you and resting on his forearm.
"Come on, show me… or you're gonna make me think you're doing something naaaughty." He sang the last word, tilting his head as he looked at you with those big doe eyes you adored so much.
You felt horrible finding another man attractive when you had such a caring, loving boyfriend right here. You pouted, looking down at your phone and then back at him. With a sigh, you turned your phone back on and showed him.
"We were talking about Nightwing and how… cute he is."
Dick examined the picture for a second before smirking. "Can't blame you. Dude's got killer quads."
Your eyes widened for a second. "Wait… you're not upset?" You eyed him suspiciously.
He scoffed out a laugh. "No. Why would I be? He's nice-looking. Plus, I got something he doesn't."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?"
"You." He swiftly sat up, yanking your thighs toward him and wrapping your legs around his torso. He leaned down, trapping you beneath him as he placed a hand beside your head. Your stomach immediately erupted with butterflies.
"No matter how many superheroes you have a crush on, I'll always have your heart."
He smiled, holding your chin in between his thumb and index finger.
"And you're just okay with this?"
He shrugged. "What can I do? You have eyes. Plus, I know you're loyal. It's like you liking one of those anime guys—it's just never going to happen."
You gasped, lightly hitting his chest. “Rude!”
He laughed, but something in his eyes told you he was holding back. You didn't know what it was, but you weren't going to worry about it.
Jason T.
You were watching the late-night news when a story about Red Hood popped up. He had saved the mayor from an assassination attempt. The news reporter stood outside the building where the crime had taken place, explaining how it all went down.
A moment later, they showed shaky phone footage of him carrying the mayor over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes while shooting at what you assumed were the bad guys.
You bit your bottom lip, holding back a smile.
“Mmm, what a man,” you whispered to yourself.
“What was that?”Your boyfriend peeked up from his book.
“Oh, uh… nothing. Just watching the news.” You cleared your throat and pointed to the TV.
“Hm.”
You avoided his gaze and continued watching.
“You… don’t like him, do you?” he asked, marking his page before closing the book. Heat rose up your neck and spread across your cheeks.
“No… maybe?” You winced, not wanting to look at him. “Okaaay! I do. He’s hot, and strong, and he’s for the people!”
Jason scoffed.
“I mean, this guy is like a tank.” He can take a hit and keep moving. I once saw a video of him take out ten drug dealers at once and just walk it off.”
Jason shook his head in disapproval.
“He’s a murderer. Trust me, there’s nothing to admire about him.”His body became tense, almost as if the more he thought about Red Hood, the angrier he got.
A deep silence fell over the room for a few seconds. You slouched into yourself with a frown.
“I-I wouldn’t say that, Jason…”
You continued, “Red Hood is a lifesaver. He fights for the little guys who can’t protect themselves. He might take lives, but what would you rather have—an innocent person dead or a psychotic human trafficker running around the streets?”
“And dare I say…” You covered your face with both hands like you’d just confessed to a crime. “…he’s better than Batman.”
Complete shock took over his face watching you hide behind your hands. Jason’s cheeks turned a dusty rose color.
“Wh-what?! You think Red Hood’s better than Batman?”
“Well, yes. He gets rid of the bad guys. Batman just puts them in jail—or barely that—and then they break out and repeat the cycle. Now, in no way, shape, or form am I saying murder is right. Absolutely not. BUT if it’s between a mom and her kids or a killer clown… kill the clown.”
Jason was stunned. He’d never heard you speak about a topic this adamantly before—not unless it was about one of those romance books you read or the political state of the world. But never about vigilantes or what people like to call anti-hero’s.
Honestly, he was kind of proud.
“I… for the first time in years, I’m speechless.” He admitted.
You shrugged and switched the TV over to Netflix.
“Well, that’s just my take on it. Don’t get too mad over it. I just prefer Red Hood over Batman.”
While you flipped through the menu looking for a movie, Jason hid a proud smile behind his hand. You had unknowingly made him fall for you even harder.
Tim D.
You and your boyfriend Tim were having your monthly shopping trip. He held your hand while carrying your bag in his other hand, while simultaneously being on his phone. You weren’t upset because you knew he was taking care of business.
You smiled happily swinging his hand back and forth looking into the shops as you passed by. One shop in particular caught your attention. You let out a gasp, dragging him behind you.
“Look Tim! It’s Red Robin plushies, oh my goodness.” You smiled gushing over the plushies on display in the window.
“Come, I want one!” You dragged your boyfriend into the shop. You were in awe they had all the justice league in plushie form, including Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin. Of course your favorite was Red Robin.
“Uh babe?”
“Hmm?” You asked looking at the wall of trinkets.
You browsed through the stickers, keychains, bracelets— they had so much stuff. You could spend a fortune in here.
“Just out of curiosity when did you start liking Red Robin?” He asked watching you be so giddy over the overpriced items.
“What do you mean silly I’ve always liked him— I oooh this one would go so well in my car! Imma hang it from the mirror.” You smile waving a tiny Red Robin symbol in his face.
“What do you mean, what do I mean? You’ve never mentioned this guy.”
You frowned. You looked up at nothing trying to remember if you mentioned him or not. You shrug, maybe you didn’t…oops.
“I swear i did, if I didn’t yes I like Red Robin. He’s such the hot nerdy type…kinda like you!”You smirked teasing him. Tim’s face grew a bright red.
“You think I’m hot? Wait— nerdy?!”
You shrugged, “well yes, you’re incredibly smart, very handsome, an extremely hard worker, you manage to remember things I’ve said only once…which is a bit scary but I kinda like it.”
“All the qualities I love in a guy, plus you have a killer physique. Definitely a sleeper build.” You smirked pecking his lips. He stood there stunned, like the first time you ever kissed him.
“Sleeper build?” He repeated your words as if it was a foreign language. If he wasn’t blushing he was blushing now.
You spent the last ten minutes collecting figurines, plushies and stickers of Red Robin and Tim happily paid for it all. The most eager he’s ever been to spend money.
“You actually like Red Robin? Not many people remember he’s even a Robin…” he trialed off with a long look in his eye.
“Of course I do, he’s very brave and smart. People pay more attention to Nightwing but I think he’s just as cool.”
Tim fell silent watching the road as he drove. It wasn’t an awkward silence just a comfortable one almost like he was thinking.
“You said I…had a killer physique?” He glanced at you then back at the road.
You kind of cringed at the word choice hearing it from him.
“maybe, why bring it up now?” You gave him a teasing look.
“Nothing…just wanna show you what it can do. If you allow me” he glanced over to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. You felt the car pick up speed, you let out a flustered giggle.
“You’re a mess Tim.”
Damian W.
You were lying on your boyfriend’s bed while he was immersed in his sketchbook. You were scrolling through Twitter when you pass a tweet posted by Gotham’s_Gossip, it was about Robin.
Robin saves civilians from The Riddler only for said civilians to still feel unsafe. A trash title paired with a blurry picture of Robin swinging from rooftops.
Out of curiosity you clicked the post to read to comments and to your surprise they were really mean.
‘Not surprised he’s rude.’
‘Believable. He saved me from a thief than told me I’m an idiot for being out late’
‘Boooo. Never liked him anyways. That can’t be the same robin batman had before, he was such a joy’
‘Lol why is this kinda funny’
You frowned scrolling further down and they all were hate comments.
“What incompetent people, they wouldn’t know a good hero if they smacked them in the face.” you mumbled spam reporting the post.
“What’s the matter?” Damians smooth voice drifted through the room.
You shut your phone off smacking it on the bed, “nothing its just…Gotham is so hard on Robin. He’s doing his best, all heroes don’t have to be all smiles and rainbows. The guy saved your life and you’re complaining? If I were him I’d let them get roughed up a bit before helping.”
Amused Damian’s lips held a slight smile.
“Beloved, why are you so adamant about defending Robin?”
You shrugged sitting up “I dunno, I always liked him I guess.” You whispered the last part hoping Damian didn’t hear but of course he heard.
Now intrigued he closed his sketchbook and sat up from his desk.
“You…like Robin?” He asked voice full of skepticism.
You contemplated on answering that question. Damian has always had a jealousy streak no matter how many times he denied it, you could always tell.
“Well yes” you answered carefully. “He’s very calculated, strong and incredibly smart when it comes to taking down bad guys bigger than him.”
Damians cocked an eyebrow.
“He doesn’t have to be like Superman. Smiling and taking photos, he’s already putting his life on the line to save the city the least they can do is say thank you geez. You don’t see Mary Sue going out at night with her child’s baseball bat beating up criminals do you?”
For some odd reason that got a small chuckle out of Damian. Maybe the thought of a middle aged mom with a bat sitting on rooftops waiting for criminals amused him.
You chuckled too imagining it.
“It is nothing to worry about, my heart. I’m sure those comments do not bother him. He seems very disciplined and couldn’t care less about what those people think.”
You snorted. “Well they should appreciate him more.”
Damian’s expression softened ever so slightly, “You speak as though you know him personally.”
“I don’t.” You quickly defended. “I just think people are unfair. Everyone praises Batman, but Robin is out there doing the same thing. He’s younger too. That has to be difficult, especially juggling his personal life along with being a vigilante.”
For a moment Damian simply stared at you. Difficult? Most people assumed Robin enjoyed the danger, the violence, the endless patrols. Very few stopped to consider the weight that came with the mantle.
“You think highly of him.”
You nodded “Someone has to, plus I think he’s kinda cute ” The answer came so quickly Damian almost choked on air.
You frowned looking at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying not to laugh ” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I am just merely surprised that is all.” Damian leaned back against his chair. “Tell me. What else do you admire about this Robin?”
You groaned immediately. “See? This is why I didn’t want to answer.”
“Answer.” He pressed.
“You’re being weird about it.” You picked up a pillow throwing it at him, but he caught it effortlessly.
“And you are avoiding the question.” You narrowed your eyes before finally relenting.
“Fine. I think he’s brave.” Damian’s teasing expression faltered. “Brave?”
“Yeah. People hate him, criminals want him dead, reporters make fun of him, and he still goes out every night. I’d quit I don’t have time for all of that.”
A strange warmth settled in Damian’s chest. “You would quit?”
“Oh absolutely. Gotham would be on its own, good luck with fighting off alien and psychotic clowns.” That earned a genuine laugh from him.
You blinked shocked, Damian isn’t the type of person who laughs a lot. Especially not at your corny jokes “Wow. You’re really enjoying this conversation huh?”
He shrugged not hiding it, “Perhaps.”
You narrowed your eyes at him suspicious as to why this conversation amused him so much. “Should I be concerned?”
“No.” He simply answered but the smile never left his face.
You pointed accusingly at him. “You know, for someone who claims not to care about Robin, you’re awfully invested in hearing me compliment him.”
Damian nearly gave himself away. “Perhaps I simply have excellent taste in conversation.” With that he turned around opening his sketchbook once again.
You shrugged him off laying back down busying yourself on your phone.
OKAY NOW JASON SO LETS GOOOOO. DIH IS NEXT. IM TRYNA REALLY POST A LOT TODAY BUT I AM FINALLY FREE THIS WEEKEND SO DEF A LOt OF CONTENTTTTTT.
Jason is sure to bring a water gun to the beach and will repeatedly spray you with it multiple times just for the fun of it. He always makes it spontaneous too so you’ll NEVER see it coming which really irritates you.
He LOVES to read a good book in the sand and will be extremely immersed in it. Im talking about he will not look up for hours just because the book is that damn good.
Always makes sure to bring a TON of food. Him and his big ass back. He literally buys five burgers just for himself and if you ask him for a bite he will say no before rolling eyes to give you one.
Runs around in the sand and always wants to make you get up and race him even though he knows he's faster. Although one time you beat him and sulked for hours because his ego was hurt.
THATS IT OML MY HEAD HURTS SO.MUCHHHHH. MY BODY ALWAYS WAKES UP AT 5 NO MATTER WHAT AND IDK WHAT TO DO SO I NEVER GET ENOUGH SLEEPPPPP.
Bsf Ak! Jason Todd who shows up to the restaurant after your date completely ghosted you leaving you in tears. He was out when he had gotten your text.
"Never showed up. He ghosted me. I'm so embarrassed Jay."
And to say he was pissed was absolutely pissed was the understatement of the century. Not only was he upset you went out with someone who was not him but they had the audacity to embarrass you like that? Luckily he had his motorcycle with him because he had to quickly change out of the blood stain clothes he had on before meeting up with you.
On your end your day just couldn't seem to get any worse. You had texted Jay your date had dumped you seemingly out of nowhere and he just left you on seen! This was beyond embarrassing for you. It wasn't often you gave guys chances to go out with you either so for your date to stand you up just gave you even more reason not to let these niggas play in your face.
"Sorry baby, m' not too late am I?"
He hadn't mentioned showing up so both you and the staff were surprised. Your waitress had come over and was about to ask you to leave before Jason got situated. You got attention when you came in but damn did Jason get some looks.
"You look good {<3}."
His lips pressed against your forehead just like any other time he had seen you.
"Jaycie-"
"Did you order yet?"
"Oh, uh no. I wasn't sure if I was eating alone."
"Get whatever you want. It's on me, baby."
He gave a look to the waitress before waving her off to get a menu for himself and you.
"What are you doing here?"
"You really thought I'd leave you alone after that punk just up and abandoned you? Type of man you think I am hm? Should know better than that, kitty."
His eyes drifted down to look at the outfit you had on. One he had bought the last time you guys had spent time with one another outside of Gotham.
"You look...good. should have just let me take you out instead. Know how I feel about you going out with other men anyways." "Oh? How do you feel?"
"Don't need another man when you have me. Do everything for you anyways. Pay for everything, protect you, stay with you-"
Jason leaned in close to you, close enough to wear you guys' breath could be felt on one another's face.
Synopsis: After a day of skiing pushes you past your limits, Dick brings you back to the hotel to unwind in a quiet, snow-lit hot tub, helping you finally relax.
A/n: I was originally supposed to post this last year around Christmas time but I just never finished it until now lol
Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Soft intimacy, Light angst, Domestic setting.
Wc: 1815
“Wow,” you breathe as you step into the hotel room. The warm light reflected off the polished floors and the air smells like pine and clean laundry. A kitchenette sits just after the entry and beyond it, the bedroom seemed to come to life.
A king sized bed sat against the far wall, perfectly facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. On the other side of the glass a blanket of snow covered the mountains, skiers gliding gracefully down the slopes. Just past the windows sat a snow covered balcony.
You walked up to the tall window rolling your suitcase behind you.
“I take it that means you like it?” Your boyfriend Dick Grayson, says as he steps up behind you taking a look at the view himself. His hands automatically settled at your hips, pulling you closer pressing his chest into your back.
“I love it, Dick.”
He leaned down and whispered in your ear “I’m glad.” He gave your cheek a small peck before turning around and unzipping his suitcase and duffel. You took one last longing look out the window before turning around.
“But,—“
He groaned.
“—I told you, you didn’t have to.”
“And I told you, I wanted to.” Dick sighed “besides we haven’t had alone time like this in a while.”
“I know…” You put your suitcase on the bed opening it up and beginning to unpack “It just feels like you’re spoiling me.”
“I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to spoil you.” He spoke as if it was obvious. “Just please try to enjoy this weekend? I’m really looking forward to teaching you how to ski.”
You smiled at his enthusiasm “Okay, you don't have to tell me twice.”
“Good.”
When the two of you stepped out the crisp refreshing cold greeted you, filling your lungs with every breath. It’s fogged in front of you as you adjusted your gloves. The crunchy snow stretched across the seemingly endless mountains, the sunlight glistening off its surface as skiers slide down the slope.
The world felt bigger out here.
“This…feels unsafe.” You muttered
Behind you Dick laughed gliding up beside you like it was second nature “Okay, new plan.”
You glance at him suspiciously
“You’re not going down yet.”
“…I like where this is going.”
He smirked “I’m going to go first.” He continues while nodding towards the slop. “You watch me, get a feel for it before you try anything.”
You blinked and slumped your shoulders in disappointment “You’re just gonna leave me up here alone?”
“I’m not leaving,” he says amused. “I’ll be at the bottom of. Think of it like a demo.”
You nodded with a sigh “Okay, that actually sounds better than me immediately embarrassing myself.”
Dick grins, already backing up slightly. “Don’t worry It’s still coming.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He laughs, pushing his googles over his eyes. “Just watch my stance—Knees bent, weight forwards. And pay attention to how I turn my skies.”
You nod, shifting your weight a little as you prepare to actually pay attention.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
With that, Dick pushes off.
And just like that he’s gone.
Not gone gone but moving fast enough that your breath catches a little. He glides smoothly down the slope, completely in control.
He leans into his turns effortlessly, carving clean lines through the snow. It was nearly graceful.
What a show off, but you can’t deny watching him did make it look less chaotic.
By the time he reaches the bottom, he slows to a clean stop, turning to face you. Even from up here, you can see him tilt his head slightly, raising a hand.
“Your turn!” He calls
You immediately shake your head “oh, absolutely not-“
He cups his hands around his mouth. “C’mon! I’ll talk you through it!”
You glance down the slope.
From where you were standing it still looked too steep.
You exhale slowly, adjusting your stance the way he showed you. “Okay..” You mutter to yourself “Okay.”
You push off and instantly regret it.
“I’m moving—Oh my god I’m moving!”
From below, Dick’s voice carries up to you, steady and clear. “Good! Keep your knees bent!”
“I don’t like this!”
“Lean forward a little!”
You wobble, arms tensing at your sides as you try to remember everything you just watched
Your knees bent, weight forward and then you turn.
You shifted slightly and suprisingly your skis responded.
“Am..I doing it?”
“You’re doing it!” He calls back, you can hear the grin in his voice.
Your heart is racing, your movements still a little clumsy but you weren’t tumbling like those guys you seen on YouTube.
The slope starts to level out as you get closer to the bottom, your speed just enough for you to breathe again.
You stop a little awkwardly but otherwise unscathed.
You blink, looking down at the skis strapped to your feet.
“I didn’t die..”
Dick laughs, already skiing over to you. “Proud of you.”
You look up at him, still catching your breath. “That was terrifying.”
“But you did it.”
“…Yeah,” you admit, a small smile creeping onto your face “I did.”
He bumps his shoulder lightly against yours. “Don’t get cocky, you still have work to do.”
You groaned.
By the time you two made it back it back to the room, your legs felt like jello.
For a second you thought they might give up on you.
You push the door open with a tired groan immediately kicking it shut behind you as warmth wraps around you again, chasing the bite of the cold away.
Your cheeks were still flushed from the cold wind, your hair was a mess from the helmet. Your entire body was introduced to muscles you didn’t even know you had.
“My legs hates me,” You mumbled as you face planted onto the queen mattress
Behind you Dick chuckled, setting his skis aside near the wall. “That’s how you know you did good.”
You flip your head to shoot him a look “I fell. Multiple times.”
“Yet you got back up every time,” He counters while shrugging off his jacket
You sigh, but there was a smile tugging on your lips “ I’m never walking again”
“So dramatic,” he teases, disappearing briefly into the bathroom.
After a moment he reappears with a towel over his shoulder, leaning casually against the doorway with his arms crossed.
“So,” he starts, tilting his head slightly, “What do you say we hit the hot tub?”
You glance up at him from, your spot on the bed. “Right now?”
“Yeah,” he says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I think your muscles will thank you in the morning.”
You consider it for a second then with a groan you flip onto your back “That actually sounds sooo good.”
Dick laughs, stepping closer and offering you a hand. “C’mon.”
You take it, letting him pull you up onto your feet as he does your legs wobble enough to make him smirk.
“Careful,” he says steading you with a hand at your waist. “Might have to carry you at this rate.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
After a little While, the two of you step out into the cold again.
Steam curled up into the night air from the hot tub, glowing softly under warm light. Snow piles up around the edges, untouched.
“Okay,” you say, eyeing the water while you wrapped your arms around your self, “This better be worth it.”
Dick just gestures toward it “After you.”
You dip your toe in and then your entire foot.
You immediately sigh “Oh my God.”
“Yeah?” He asks, amused
You don’t even respond, already stepping in fully, the heat sinking into your sore muscles almost instantly. “Okay—Yeah this was a great idea.”
“Told you,” he says, slipping in after you.
The cold air brushed against your shoulders while the water wrapped you in warmth. You sink in a little deeper, letting your head fall back against the edge.
For a moment it was quiet.
Dick Shifts closer, resting his arms along the edge behind you “Still think skiing was a bad idea?”
You glance over at him, considering.
“Ask me again when I can feel my legs tomorrow.”
He laughs at that and you smile faintly, turning your gaze back out towards the mountains.
Your eyes half lidded as the heat loosened the last bit of tension in your body and a quiet sigh slips out before you can stop it.
He huffs a laugh “We’re gonna turn into raisins if we stay in here too long.”
“Worth it.”
He shifts and when you glance at him his attention isn’t on the mountains anymore, it’s on you.
“What?” You ask
“Nothing,” he says, but the smile one his lips say otherwise.
You narrow your eyes “Dick—“
“I’m just—“ he exhales softly, shaking his head a little. “I’m glad you came.”
His usual teasing tone is gone and is replaced with something real.
Your heart flutter a little at that, your shoulders relaxed as you turn more towards him “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His gaze flickers over your face, like he’s memorizing it. “You needed this.”
You let out a small breath, looking down at the water for a second before meeting is eyes again. “I didn’t realize how much until now.”
He nods, like he understands completely.
Something flickers in his expression and he shifts under the water, brushing lightly against yours before curling your fingers together and his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
You glanced down at your joined hands then back up at him. He was already looking at you.
For a second neither of you move until his hand lifts out of the water, coming up to rest lightly against your jaw, warm even against the cool air. His thumb brushes your cheek, slowly and careful.
You lean in a little and that was all it took.
He closes the distance gently, his lips meeting yours in a soft, unhurried kiss. It’s warm. Warmer then the water and definitely warmer than the air.
Then he pulls back just barely.
Your hand slides up to his shoulder, fingers curling lightly against him as you lean in again. The second kiss is deeper, a little more certain. The world around you fading completely.
He stood slightly as the water ripples around him, he pulled your legs around his waist. He tilted your head to get a better angle as he began to lean in to kiss your neck.
“Really? Right here in the hot tub?” You asked
He pulled back slightly “You want me to stop?” His voice was almost a whisper in your ear.
You moved your head slightly to look at him. “Not at all.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled into a kiss once more.
Jason loved you being tatted up he thought it was so sexy
You had tattoos on your legs mainly you felt like they looked better there and you had lots of room
You were a bigger girl so you had thick thighs and you loved covering them in art
Jason constantly counted your tattoos keeping track of how many you had because you always forget
You never told Jason what you were getting you’d just come home with it and he loved it
It was always a fun surprise
His siblings even thought they were cool! Well Damian took a minute to come around
When you first met Damian he looked you up and down then glared at your legs. “You mark yourself with obscenities.” You shrugged. “I mark myself with stickers.”
You indeed like to think of your tattoos as stickers, childish maybe but you didn’t care
Soon Damian came around and let you be but was always surprised when you get a new one.
“Again?! How many more do you need?” Damian looked at you. “Until I’m satisfied.” You tell him. “When will that be?” Damian asked. You shrugged.
Jason loved coming with you to tattoo appointments because he just loved watching you get them done
He always found it fascinating how you would fall asleep sometimes while getting your tats done
You had a bit of high pain tolerance. You normally would rate your tattoos low pain numbers the only one that got you was the back of your legs
That was a good seven out of ten for sure but others were pretty low
You damn near got a tattoo almost every month if possible
The first time you went to a gala with Jason you two walked the red carpet together and you were a dress with a high slit so your tats could be seen
Next day you’re the topic of the day for a talk show full of women. Some degrading you and other women defending
You didn’t realize how much your tattoos could divide people, you thought it was weird.
The more your tats were seen in pictures taken by you or the media your tattoos were talked about
You kept brushing it off not really bothered by it just still always confused
Once Jason had to do a family interview and the guy asking the questions decided to bring you up. His siblings all scooted slightly closer to Jason just in case he needed to be restrained
“So Jason you have a girlfriend now, didn’t expect you to date a girl like her.” Dick had to quickly wrap his arm around Jason’s shoulder to stop him from getting up. “That’s right baby brother has a girl! And she’s amazing, the sweetest thing she is. We all love her.” Dick quickly answered.
“What do you mean by a girl like that?” Jason asked through gritted teeth. “Oh you know, full of tattoos and plus size. Never saw you as that type of guy,” the interviewer laughed. Cassandra immediately grabbed Jason’s arm just acting as if she was holding on to her big brother but she was just being another anchor.
“Well unlike some losers I like something to hold on to. My girlfriend is the most beautiful woman to walk the planet. I get it losers are jealous that she wouldn’t even look their way. And as for her tattoos they are sexy. She is sexy.” Jason said to the interviewer and he was surprised
“You really think that highly of her huh?” “Of course I do, that’s my baby.” Jason said proudly. Jason then smirked. “I’m built to handle a big mama like her,” he flexed his muscles a bit. He just had to be a little shit, dick patted his back.
After that interview all you saw was constant edits of you and Jason on TikTok. People were in support of you too a lot and indeed tons of edits with the song big mama
Summary: Jason is obsessed with a curvy plus size model (I’m thinking of making this a series like a cute little mini series)
You were a model/influencer, you started out modeling first and then you decided to vlog your adventures in the modeling industry. You were currently at a gala event. You were a plus one to a designer. You smiled and waved then took pictures. The designer had dressed you themselves they gave you a lovely red dress that hugged your curves oh so well and showed you off. As you two walked around at the Wayne gala he told anyone that listened how you were their new muse. Your bright whimsy energy mixed with your bossy energy, how could you not be a muse? This dress was custom made for you with love and care from the designer.
Unbeknownst to you there was someone looking at you. That someone was Bruce Wayne’s second oldest son Jason Todd. Oh the boy was stunned, the way you looked, the way you laughed oh he was smitten! How could he not be you were stunning such a beautiful woman. Your big brown eyes oh so captivating. He went around secretly asking about you trying to get your name. Once he got your name he looked you up and found all your social media accounts. He didn’t follow you immediately; he had to be discreet.
Jason watched your TikTok’s from a separate account along with your YouTube videos. He even watched live streams of you walking on runways. Jason didn’t care about fashion shows but he cared about you. He was currently watching you live on TikTok. “I was a little upset today cause I was asked to do a show and they asked me to come in for a fitting and nothing at all was in my size, like guys everything was medium or small. So it was just a bit difficult because they just weren’t happy with me and they had to get my measurements to get clothes to fit me.” You laughed. Jason rolled his eyes irritated about the people being mad at you. He typed a comment and sent it; he didn't care because it was his private spam account.
“Why were they upset with you when they knew they were getting a big mama.” You read his comment and giggled. People commented as well agreeing that it was ridiculous that the studio was mad at you. “Yeah I thought it was ridiculous they were upset like everyone can look at me and see I’m a bigger girl so I was unsure why they were upset that I couldn’t fit into their small or medium samples.” You said as you shrugged. Then you stepped back and showed off your figure. You were wearing little pink shorts and a pink baby tee. “Like every seen the curves! Like stop playing with me.” You said.
Jason had to put his phone down for a second as he saw your full body figure. You looked so fine to him and he had to get it together. “What I wouldn’t give.” Jason mumbled to himself. “That’s right! Curvy mami! I like that yall.” You nodded your head. “But anyways I don’t know if they’ll keep me for the show. We shall see what happens, granted the show is not for a couple of months so we shall see.” You said. Jason picked up his phone and looked at you as you stood in your kitchen still showing off your full figure as you were talking about things. “But anyways y’all I’m trying Pilates and pole dancing!” You said excitedly and clapped your hands.
Jason groaned he did not need to picture you pole dancing he did not need to see the visions! “I saw Megan thee stallion do it so I said fuck it imma do it. I’m having so much fun doing it.” You said with a big smile. He knew you probably looked so good spinning around on that pole but he kept trying to block it out of his mind. He didn’t want to think dirty thoughts of you but damn it was hard! He wanted to be respectful real bad. Jason closed TikTok he couldn’t keep watching so he switched to your YouTube channel to continue to watch you. Jason loved just hearing your voice. He thought it was just so beautiful.
He needed to figure out how to talk to you, how to get close to you. He wanted you to be his but he just didn’t know how to go about it. How was he supposed to run into you? How was he even supposed to approach you? You were too beautiful for a basic approach he needed to come correct. Jason’s eyes widened as he had a thought, he grabbed his laptop and started to do some research. Jason didn’t know if this idea was going to work but he was sure as hell was going to try!
Summary : As a new Avenger (2012 Avengers), you decide to give a gift to Steve, the Cap, who recruited you. Except... You forget that your gifts can burn.
Pairing : Steve Rogers x avenger!reader
W/c : idk maybe 3k
Warning tags : fluff, a little bit angsty, Black! reader, reader has powers like Wanda but can burn people too, comfort, soft intimacy, vague description of burning wounds. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
The first time Steve Rogers sees your powers up close, he thinks they look beautiful.
Not dangerous.
Not unnatural.
Beautiful.
Purple energy curls around your fingers like smoke kissed by starlight, glowing softly beneath the dim lights of the training room. It moves differently than other people's magic : less chaotic, more fluid. Like velvet dragged through water.
Everyone else in the room keeps their distance when your powers come out.
Steve notices that too.
The careful way agents step back.
The subtle tension in shoulders.
The way people look at your hands before they look at your face.
You pretend not to notice.
That’s the part that bothers him most.
“Again,” Natasha says from across the mat.
You exhale slowly.
A training bot flies toward you. Your hand lifts instinctively, purple light flashing brighter around your wrist before the machine freezes midair with a violent metallic groan.
Then,
Crack.
The entire bot crumples inward like crushed paper.
Tony whistles from the observation deck overhead.
“Remind me never to piss her off.”
You immediately lower your hands.
The glow disappears.
“So dramatic,” you mutter quietly.
Steve hides a smile.
You’ve only been living in Avengers Tower for three months, but he’s already learned your tells. The way you deflect discomfort with humor. The way you avoid eye contact after using too much power.
The way you curl inward whenever people look impressed instead of normal.
“You’re getting stronger,” Steve says.
Your gaze flickers toward him.
Something in your expression softens immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The smile you give him then is small.
Real.
And it hits Steve directly in the chest.
____________________________________________
The problem with Steve Rogers is that he makes kindness feel dangerous.
Not because he’s cruel.
Because he isn’t.
Because he remembers things.
He notices when you braid gold thread into your curls after missing home too much. Notices when you skip meals after rough missions. Notices you always hum old R&B songs under your breath while making tea late at night.
Nobody should pay that much attention to another person.
Especially not to you.
You learned a long time ago that people love power until it scares them.
And eventually,
It always scares them.
So you keep distance between yourself and everyone else in the tower.
Everyone except Steve.
Which is probably your first mistake.
The second mistake is the necklace.
You find it in a tiny shop in Brooklyn while wandering the city alone on a rainy afternoon.
Amethyst.
Deep purple.
The exact shade your powers become right before they bloom.
The old woman behind the counter smiles knowingly when you pick it up.
“Gift for somebody special?”
Heat floods your cheeks immediately.
“No.”
She hums like she doesn’t believe you.
You buy it anyway.
Back at the tower, you spend hours holding the crystal between your palms.
Purple light spills carefully through your fingers.
Tiny.
Controlled.
You press just enough energy into the stone for it to carry warmth. Comfort. Protection.
A piece of you.
Not enough to hurt anybody.
You make absolutely sure of that.
_____________________________________________
By the time you work up the courage to give it to Steve, it’s nearly midnight.
Most of the tower is asleep.
The common room glows softly with low lamps and the New York skyline beyond the windows.
Steve sits on the couch in gray sweats and a navy shirt, reading something that probably came from Fury.
He looks up immediately when you walk in.
And smiles.
God.
That smile should honestly count as psychological warfare.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Your hands tighten around the small velvet box hidden behind your back.
Steve notices instantly.
“What’ve you got there?”
You suddenly consider turning around and fleeing.
Unfortunately, Steve Rogers has apparently developed the ability to read your soul.
His smile grows softer.
“Is that for me?”
You groan quietly. “I hate how observant you are.”
“That’s a yes then.”
You walk over before your nerves can stop you.
“I just…” You shrug awkwardly. “You recruited me. And you’ve been really patient with me. So.”
Steve takes the box carefully.
His expression already looks touched before he’s even opened it.
You might actually pass out.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know.”
He opens the lid slowly.
The amethyst catches the light instantly.
Purple glimmers dance across the walls.
Steve goes quiet.
“It’s beautiful,” he says softly.
Relief rushes through you so hard your knees nearly weaken.
“You really think so?”
“Yeah.” His thumb brushes carefully over the crystal. “Feels warm.”
Your stomach drops.
Warm.
Right.
You should probably explain,
But Steve looks up at you then with that unbearably gentle expression and your thoughts derail completely.
“You picked this out for me?”
“Well, obviously not for Thor.”
Steve laughs softly.
The sound settles somewhere deep inside your ribs.
Then he lifts the necklace from the box.
And the second the crystal touches his skin—
Everything goes wrong.
Steve jerks sharply.
The necklace drops from his fingers.
Purple light flashes violently.
And suddenly the room smells like burning fabric.
Your heart stops.
Steve stumbles backward with a strangled inhale, clutching at his chest.
“Steve—”
The crystal hits the floor.
Cracks.
Energy bursts outward in jagged purple waves.
You feel your own power react instinctively.
Too emotional.
Too frightened.
“Move!” you gasp.
But Steve is already burning.
Not flames.
Not exactly.
The energy sears through his skin in glowing violet fractures beneath his collarbone.
His face twists in pain.
And the sound he makes—
You will hear it in nightmares for the rest of your life.
“No no no no—”
Your powers erupt around you instinctively.
Purple light floods the room.
Glass rattles.
Furniture lifts violently off the floor.
Steve looks up despite the pain immediately.
“Hey,” he grits out. “Look at me.”
But you can’t breathe.
You hurt him.
You hurt Steve.
“I didn’t mean to—”
The elevator doors slam open.
Tony.
Natasha.
Bruce.
Chaos follows immediately afterward.
“What happened?”
“Jesus Christ—”
Bruce kneels beside Steve instantly while Natasha grabs the glowing necklace carefully with insulated gloves from somewhere you didn’t even see her get.
You can’t move.
Your hands shake violently.
Steve’s shirt is burned through near his chest now, angry violet marks spreading beneath the skin like lightning veins.
And it’s your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
You back away so quickly you nearly trip.
“I didn’t know it would do that,” you whisper.
Nobody answers immediately.
That silence destroys you faster than screaming could.
Bruce looks up finally.
“We need medical.”
You’re already leaving before anybody can stop you.
_____________________________________________
You lock yourself in your room.
Then you cry so hard it physically hurts.
Purple light flickers uncontrollably beneath your skin, dimming and surging with every shaking breath. Objects tremble around the room in response to your emotions.
You don’t even try stopping it anymore.
Because this is exactly what everybody was afraid of.
Exactly.
A weapon pretending to be a person long enough to make people comfortable.
You slide down the wall beside your bed and bury your face in your arms.
Your grandmother used to tell you your powers reflected your heart.
Tonight they feel rotten.
A knock comes at your door around an hour later.
You don’t answer.
Another knock.
Gentler.
“Hey.”
Steve.
Your chest caves in immediately.
“Go away.”
Silence.
Then:
“No.”
You laugh weakly through tears.
Of course he says no.
“Steve, please.”
“You gonna make me stand out here all night?”
“You should be in medical.”
“Probably.”
You squeeze your eyes shut.
He sounds tired.
You hate yourself for noticing.
“I hurt you.”
“You didn’t mean to.”
“But I still did it.”
The words come out broken.
Quiet settles between you both.
Then the door handle turns slowly.
You forgot to lock it with your powers.
Steve steps inside carefully.
And your breath catches immediately.
There’s gauze visible above the collar of his clean black shirt. Faint traces of healing burns disappear beneath the fabric.
Not fully healed yet.
Because of you.
Your eyes sting instantly.
Steve closes the door behind himself.
“You shouldn’t be near me,” you whisper.
He looks almost offended.
“Why?”
“Because I burned you!”
“You gave me a necklace.”
Your voice cracks. “Steve.”
“And it backfired.”
“You were in pain.”
“Yeah.” He steps closer carefully. “I’ve been in pain before.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
You stare at him helplessly.
He should be angry.
Should be careful now.
Should look at you differently.
Instead he just looks worried.
About you.
Which somehow makes it worse.
“You were crying,” he says softly.
Heat rushes painfully into your face.
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Your lips tremble.
Steve sighs quietly before sitting beside you against the wall.
Close.
Not touching yet.
Just close enough to feel warm.
“You know what Bruce said?”
You shake your head slowly.
“He said the energy in the crystal reacted to me specifically.”
You blink.
“What?”
“He thinks your powers recognized emotional attachment and overloaded.” Steve glances toward you carefully. “Basically your gift panicked because you care about me.”
Mortification consumes you instantly.
“Oh my God.”
Steve actually laughs.
A real laugh.
You stare at him in disbelief.
“You almost died!”
“Didn’t die.”
“You were literally smoking.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“You were smoking, Steve!”
He laughs harder this time, and despite yourself, a tiny smile breaks through your misery.
It disappears quickly.
“I still hurt you.”
Steve’s expression softens immediately.
“Come here.”
You freeze.
“What?”
“Come here.”
Slowly, hesitantly, you move closer.
Steve reaches for your hand.
You panic instantly.
“No, don’t—”
But he takes it anyway.
Warm fingers sliding carefully through yours.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Your powers flicker instinctively beneath your skin.
Purple light glows faintly around your joined hands.
Steve doesn’t let go.
“I’m okay,” he says quietly.
Your throat tightens painfully.
“The serum heals fast. Burns are already closing.”
“But I caused them.”
“You know what I think?”
You shake your head.
“I think you’ve spent your whole life believing accidents make you unlovable.”
The word hits you like a physical blow.
Lovable.
Your eyes burn again immediately.
Steve’s thumb brushes softly across your knuckles.
“You don’t have to look so scared around me.”
“I could’ve killed you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“What if next time—”
“There doesn’t have to be a next time.”
You stare at him.
Steve leans back against the wall beside you, still holding your hand.
“You know what the real problem was?”
“The cursed death necklace?”
“That you tried carrying all that power alone.”
Your laugh comes out watery.
“That sounds fake deep.”
“It sounded better in my head.”
You finally smile again.
Steve watches it happen carefully like something precious unfolding.
Then his expression gentles further.
“You made me something with your powers because you trusted me with them.”
Your chest aches.
“Nobody’s ever done that before.”
You look down quickly.
“You still shouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
Steve shifts closer.
Close enough now that your shoulder brushes his.
“You know,” he murmurs softly, “I think the necklace is still my favorite gift anybody’s ever given me.”
You stare at him like he’s insane.
“It tried to barbecue you.”
“Still thoughtful.”
A helpless laugh escapes you.
And suddenly Steve’s hand lifts carefully toward your face.
Slow enough for you to stop him.
You don’t.
His fingers brush beneath your eye gently, wiping away the last traces of tears.
“You’re okay,” he says quietly.
The words nearly break you.
Not you didn’t mean it.
Not calm down.
Not be careful.
You’re okay.
Like he’s talking to you instead of your powers.
Like he sees a person first.
You lean into his touch before realizing you’re doing it.
Steve’s breathing catches softly.
Purple light flickers dimly beneath your skin again.
But this time it doesn’t feel violent.
Just warm.
Alive.
Steve notices too.
“See?” he murmurs. “That’s better already.”
You shake your head weakly. “You’re ridiculously calm about this.”
“Well.” His mouth curves slightly. “Guess I trust you.”
The confession settles deep in your chest.
Dangerously deep.
You look at the gauze peeking from beneath his collar again.
Guilt twists through you immediately.
Steve notices.
Without another word, he gently takes your hand and places it against the uninjured side of his chest.
Strong heartbeat beneath your palm.
Steady.
Alive.
“You didn’t lose me,” he says softly.
Your eyes close briefly.
The warmth beneath your hand spreads upward into your throat, your ribs, everywhere.
Steve’s voice drops quieter.
“And you don’t have to be scared of being loved badly forever.”
Your breath catches sharply.
Because that’s it, isn’t it?
The real fear.
Not hurting people.
Being impossible to keep once you do.
But Steve just sits beside you in the quiet tower room, hand wrapped around yours like he plans on staying there.
Like burn marks and power surges and fear aren’t enough to make him leave.
For the first time in a very long time,
Your powers stop feeling like something cursed.
And when Steve leans his forehead gently against yours, smiling soft and tired and warm despite everything,
Plot: Steve has an interest in you ever since he first saw you working at a cozy cafe and even though he doesn't want a relationship due to his job, you're too much to resist.
Warnings?: pining, sweet, slow burn
Finally, he's all done. All the daily reports, meetings, debriefings, sparing, and missions. He has spent month after month in a constant state of tiring work. He was always on, always 'Captain America', never Steve. He just needed a break from it all.
He grabbed his things, casually saying hellos and goodbyes to the other agents and staff. The ladies fawning and tripping over themselves when he mutters a 'goodbye ma'am' with a small smile. You would think after all this time, he would get used to women practically throwing themselves at him but he still feels like that skinny kid getting his teeth punched in, in a dead end alley.
Shaking off that feeling he continues making his way to the parking lot, his phone pinged with the boys' group chat. Sam and Bucky are doing what they do best, bickering. "You don't even like sushi." Bucky said rejecting Sam's sushi night proposal. Steve laughs to himself because he can hear his deadpan. "That's not the point, let's try something different and who knows second time is a charm."
Steve has been looking for spots for them to check out, and he conveniently found a cozy nature-themed cafe on one of his daily runs. "What about here?" He shares the link, quietly thanking Natasha for showing him how. Luckily, they both agreed, coffee and pastries it is.
He fastened his duffle bag and swung his leg over his bike. He got to his apartment, dropping his stuff and quickly freshen up. His phone pinged again. Sam and Bucky were outside waiting for him.
The stress of the past couple of months slowly started chipping away, and he now lazily strolls to a new cafe spot a couple of blocks away from his apartment. Bucky on his right and Sam on his left, both determined to help decompress along with him.
"Talk about touching grass," Sam said, "You know like the kids say." he rubbed the back of head. As they stopped, it's like they were teleported into to nature, the sign read 'Moss and Mug'. "Umm, let's just go in" Bucky said leading the charge.
Steve really appreciated the dense forest design of the cafe dressed in warm lighting. Very much different than the hustle and bustle of NYC. His eyes wandered around the cafe floor, taking notes of the exits or possible cover. Forever it's in grain in him to search for these things.
As he scanned some more that's when he saw you. Your white shirt rolled up, flour and coffee stains dotting your deep green apron. Your hair is pulled back, but a coil frames your round face. Your brown eyes are rich in colour and of course your skin is glistening.
You reached out to hand the customer her coffee, who then turns and whose eyes scan Steve, but he is too busy observing you. How you move, how your voice sweetly greets customers and takes their orders. Or even how you try to push the coil away from your face but it always manages to spring out away from your ear.
"Welcome to Moss and Mug, how can I help you?" You said sweetly with a smile. Seeing your smile up close, he wished he could see it all day. He loved how your smile met your eyes. "Umm, can I have a blueberry muffin and a latte?" Sam said.
You took his order, and shifted your eyes to Steve. His eyes already on you, he rocked on his heels, "I'm not ready yet, Buck." He gestured to Bucky. "Well, I will take a black coffee and a cinnamon roll." You nodded and then shifted your eyes back to Steve, "Are you ready yet?"
He stood staring. Couldn't focus on what you were saying. "Sir?" You questioned. Your eyebrows creasing together, he noted how cute it was. "I'm sorry, just a bit overwhelmed with the choices. What do you recommend?" He said, his voice like velvet. You grew nervous under his gaze, even though it didn't creep you out.
You know the gaze of creepy men all too well. You took notice of his face, strong, as God himself chiseled away at it, until He was pleased. His blue eyes are bright, staring deeply into yours.
"We are well known for our matcha, so I will recommend the chocolate matcha." You said proudly, knowing you made the matcha perfection, but all were uniquely delicious. He nodded, eyes still dancing across you. Sam and Bucky looked to each other, noticing the 'connection'. You finished ringing up their order and began making the different drinks.
All getting a pinch of love, well, the chocolate matcha got more than a pinch...
"Blueberry muffin, latte, cinnamon roll, black coffee, chocolate latte, matcha, and scone." You called out the orders, pleased with your work. They stroll over, grabbing their orders, thanking you. Steve stops, pulls out his wallet, sticking a five-dollar bill into the tips jar. "This tastes good. Thanks again." Tipping his head to you, walking away.
He was determined to stay even though they wanted to go to the park. "I think we should stay for a bit," Steve said. "Why? I thought cafes were 'too stuffy?” Sam questioned using air quotes. Bucky turned his head to the side, a smug smirk plastered on his face. "No particular reason. I need to rest." They burst out laughing.
Your head snapped in the direction of laughter. His back was to you, but you could see the other two smirking at you and then back at him. "Steve, just admit why you actually want to stay." Steve followed their eye line and met your brown eyes again, brown like the chocolate in his drink, or like your skin. He sighs, "Yes, it's because it's her."
He looks down sheepishly, "She's beautiful." He continues. A big grin spreads on their face. "Ask her out, man!" Bucky whispered yell. Sam nodded furiously. Steve laughed to himself, amazed that they agreed on something.
"I can't, I'm too busy with everything." Sam hummed in response, knowing all too well how much time this job eats up, leaving barely enough respite to breathe. "I get that, but you have one life, why deny yourself? Plus, it's not like you're marrying her by asking her out."
Steve nodded his head to your direction. Small smile on his face, turned back and left. You had a feeling bubbling in the belly that this won’t be the last time you saw him.
P.s. again im sorry for sending you messages back to back... if you tell me to stop i will, I dont want to be a pain in the ass for you 😟
Heavy on the "this is the only boys sweatshirt you're going to own" 🤣
All Bee has to do is mention something once and Bucky is on it.
She says she's cold, he has a jacket ready for her.
Her little legs get tired from walking, all she has to do ia put her arms and he's bending down to pick her up.
Its the summer and she's getting hot—Bee didn't even say anything, just let out an unhappy sigh and that was all Bucky needed to hear, he has an ice cream cone on the way, one of the guys is pulling out a portable fan, Bucky's taking off his suit jacket to hold over her so he can block the sun.
Mal watching all of this unfold over a sigh, knowing that she picked the perfect man to have babies with
Are our favorite NYC Mob Family happy the Knicks won ?
They were ecstatic. Especially Bucky. Not only is he a life long fan but also because he made a lot of money off the games. A lot of money. His bookies and casinos worked overtime during the finals.
According to Bee, Mr. Tato also made a lot of monies. His people had lots of bets going. (And now she's banned from attending any of Bucky's meetings. Bucky's working on changing your mind about that.)
Bee had fun going to her first NBA game. Naturally Bucky got them courtside seats when the Knicks played in NYC. She loved it for all ten minutes and then spent the rest of the time people watching and sharing snacks with her mama. Bee is still talking about the halftime shows.
They watched the away games in the penthouse. The guys are superstitious. Looking for anything that might influence the game. Paying attention to the little things they normally wouldn't. That's how they discovered that anytime Bucky would pick Bee up, Jalen would make a shot. It got to the point where Steve insisted that Bucky hold Bee the entire time.
The one time Bee went to bed early, they lost. So she was allowed to stay up the rest of the games. Towards the end, she would get sleepy but would wake up and get excited whenever the guys cheered. It was really to cute to watch her suddenly awaken when the guys got a little too loud, give her papa a drowsy smile and then clap before dropping her head back on his shoulder.
Bee is going to be a lifelong Knicks fan just like her papa.
Construction worker!Bucky who collapses on the couch after a particularly hot day at work. No shirt. Jeans tossed somewhere. Just a pair of boxer briefs across his thighs. He's debating if he's going to leave them on or not. Trying to will himself to get a cold drink from the fridge but its so far away (not even ten feet).
He feels a cool breeze on his heated face. Pure bliss. It gets even better when a cold piece of ice slides across his lips. Bucky groans your name, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. His eyes slowly open to find your pretty face staring down at him. A glass of water in your hand, condensation rolling down your fingers, splashing on his chest. You're too good to him.
"Marry me."
"The heat really got to you didn't it?" You laugh but he's serious. He'll ask again, once he peels himself off this couch.
Warnings: Mentions of PTSD and nightmares, anxiety, emotional healing, kissing, happy ending.
Word count: 1.6k
There were exactly three reasons people came into your bookstore.
The first was for the books.
The second was for the little coffee corner tucked into the back, where the smell of cinnamon and espresso drifted through every aisle.
The third…
Was the cat.
Miss Marbles was an orange tabby with a permanent expression of mild disappointment and an uncanny ability to choose exactly who needed company.
You’d watched her curl up beside lonely college students cramming for finals, exhausted parents looking for a quiet moment, and elderly regulars who came in just to chat.
She had excellent judgment.
So when Miss Marbles marched right past every customer in the store one rainy Tuesday and rubbed against the boots of a tall man standing uncertainly by the history section…
You noticed.
The man froze.
He looked down at the cat as though he’d never seen one up close before.
Miss Marbles let out one tiny, demanding meow.
Then sat on his foot.
You smiled.
“Congratulations.”
The man looked up.
“…On what?”
“She likes you.”
He glanced back at the cat.
“I think she’s holding me hostage.”
“That’s also possible.”
For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted.
Just barely.
“I’m Bucky.”
You held out your hand.
“I’m Y/N.”
He looked at your hand for a fraction of a second before taking it.
His grip was careful, almost tentative, like he was worried about squeezing too hard.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
Miss Marbles purred loudly between you, seemingly satisfied with her work.
Over the next few weeks, Bucky became a regular.
At first, he always came on Tuesday mornings.
Then Thursdays.
Soon he was stopping by almost every day.
Sometimes he bought a book.
Sometimes he just ordered coffee and sat in the same armchair by the front window, reading in comfortable silence while rain tapped against the glass.
You never interrupted him.
You simply made his drink before he even reached the counter.
Black coffee.
One packet of raw sugar.
No lid.
The first time you handed it to him without asking, he looked genuinely surprised.
“You remembered.”
“You’ve ordered the same thing seven times.”
He looked at the cup.
Then at you.
“I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“I notice my regulars.”
He smiled softly.
“I like that.”
One afternoon, the shop was unusually busy.
A local elementary school had assigned a reading project, and parents were everywhere.
You hurried between the register, the café counter, and the shelves, trying to answer questions from three directions at once.
“Excuse me?”
“Can you recommend something for a ten-year-old?”
“Where’s the mystery section?”
“Do you have another copy of Charlotte’s Web?”
You answered each one with your usual smile, but your shoulders were beginning to tense.
Before you could catch your breath, someone quietly stepped beside you.
“I can alphabetize these.”
You looked over.
Bucky.
He was already gathering a stack of misplaced books.
“You don’t work here.”
“I know.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t.”
He gave a small shrug.
“I’m offering.”
Within minutes, he had organized an entire cart of returns with surprising efficiency.
One little boy wandered over, holding a dinosaur encyclopedia almost as big as he was.
“Mister?”
Bucky looked down.
“Yeah?”
“Do dinosaurs have favorite colors?”
Bucky thought for a moment.
“Scientifically?”
The little boy nodded seriously.
“No one knows.”
He crouched to the child’s eye level.
“But if I had to guess…”
He smiled.
“…probably green. They had a lot of confidence wearing it.”
The boy giggled and ran back to his mother.
You watched the exchange with a smile you couldn’t quite hide.
When the rush finally ended, you set a fresh blueberry muffin on the table beside Bucky.
“I didn’t order this.”
“I know.”
“It’s payment.”
“For what?”
“For saving my afternoon.”
He looked at the muffin.
“I just put books away.”
“You also calmed down a very stressed bookseller.”
His ears turned slightly pink.
“I didn’t realize I did that.”
“You did.”
He took a bite of the muffin.
After a thoughtful pause, he said, “This might be the best blueberry muffin I’ve ever had.”
You laughed.
“You say that like you’re evaluating evidence.”
“I am.”
As autumn settled over Brooklyn, the bookstore became even cozier.
String lights glowed around the windows.
Warm drinks replaced iced coffee.
Customers lingered a little longer.
One rainy evening, after closing, you found Bucky standing outside beneath the awning, staring at the downpour.
“You waiting for the rain to stop?”
“I walked.”
“You’ll be soaked.”
“I’ve been through worse.”
You unlocked the shop door again.
“Come back inside.”
“I don’t want to keep you.”
“You aren’t.”
He followed you in.
You made two mugs of hot chocolate.
“You don’t seem like a hot chocolate person,” you teased.
“I’m not.”
“So why are you drinking it?”
He looked at the whipped cream on top.
“…Because you looked excited to make it.”
Your heart fluttered.
“That’s… unexpectedly sweet.”
He looked down, almost embarrassed.
“I’ve been told I have my moments.”
The conversation stretched late into the evening.
He told you stories about Brooklyn from decades ago—not the missions or the battles, just little memories.
The corner deli that used to give neighborhood kids free pickles.
Summer baseball games.
Music drifting out of apartment windows.
You listened, completely captivated.
“I’ve never heard you talk this much,” you said.
He smiled.
“I guess I feel comfortable here.”
“In the bookstore?”
His gaze met yours.
“With you.”
The words settled warmly between you.
A few nights later, a nightmare woke him before dawn.
Instead of staying alone in his apartment, he found himself walking familiar streets until he stopped in front of the bookstore.
The lights were off.
The sign still read Closed.
But a soft glow appeared upstairs.
A few minutes later, the front door opened.
You stood there wrapped in a cardigan, surprise giving way to concern.
“Bucky?”
“I know it’s early.”
“It’s four in the morning.”
“…Yeah.”
“You okay?”
He hesitated.
“I didn’t want to be alone.”
Without another question, you stepped aside.
“Come in.”
No explanations.
No pressure.
Just warmth.
You made tea while he sat with Miss Marbles curled in his lap.
The cat purred loudly, as though she’d been expecting him.
“I had another nightmare,” he admitted quietly.
You set the mug in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate that they still happen.”
“I know.”
“I keep thinking they’ll stop.”
“They might.”
“And if they don’t?”
You reached across the table and rested your hand over his.
“Then you won’t have to face them by yourself.”
His eyes closed for a moment.
“You make that sound easy.”
“It isn’t.”
You smiled gently.
“But I think it’s worth it.”
Winter arrived with the season’s first snowfall.
The streets outside were covered in white, and the bookstore windows fogged from the warmth inside.
Business was slow.
You and Bucky spent the afternoon building a display of holiday classics.
He held up a copy of A Christmas Carol.
“I’ve actually met people who read this when it first came out.”
You laughed.
“I forget sometimes that you’re over a hundred.”
“I forget too.”
“You don’t act over a hundred.”
“What does a hundred-year-old act like?”
You pretended to think.
“Probably less dramatic.”
“I resent that.”
“You should.”
“I do.”
You bumped his shoulder lightly.
He bumped yours back.
Miss Marbles looked up from her nap, clearly unimpressed.
Later that evening, after locking the doors, the two of you stood outside watching snowflakes drift beneath the streetlights.
“It looks peaceful,” Bucky said.
“It feels peaceful.”
He looked at you, his expression thoughtful.
“You know…”
“What?”
“I used to think healing meant forgetting.”
You waited.
“But now…”
He smiled softly.
“I think maybe it means finding new memories that are stronger than the old ones.”
You stepped closer.
“I like that.”
“I had some help.”
Your heart raced.
“Bucky…”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a worn bookmark.
It was laminated, decorated with tiny painted wildflowers.
“I made this.”
“You made me a bookmark?”
“I noticed you always use receipts.”
You laughed through the sudden sting of happy tears.
“I do.”
“I thought you deserved something better.”
You traced your fingers over the flowers.
“It’s beautiful.”
“So are you.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
His eyes widened.
“I…”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I wasn’t planning to say that yet.”
You smiled.
“I’m glad you did.”
“You are?”
“I’ve been hoping you would.”
He took one slow step closer.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
The snow continued to fall around you, soft and quiet.
You looked up at him with the biggest smile he’d ever seen.
“I’ve been in love with you since the day Miss Marbles decided you belonged here.”
He laughed, a rich, genuine laugh that seemed to surprise even him.
“So the cat knew before I did?”
“Oh, definitely.”
He reached for your hand.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nodded.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to ask.”
His gloved fingers gently brushed your cheek before he leaned in.
The kiss was warm despite the cold air, unhurried and tender, like the turning of a well-loved page.
When you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours.
“So…”
“So?”
“Think Miss Marbles approves?”
As if on cue, the bookstore cat appeared in the front window, sitting proudly with her tail wrapped around her paws.
She blinked once.
Then turned away as though her work was finished.
You laughed.
“I think that’s her way of saying, ‘It’s about time.’”
Bucky smiled, intertwining his fingers with yours as the snow continued to fall around the little bookstore that had quietly become the beginning of both your new chapters.
on your chest laid you and miguel’s beautiful daughter. you laughed airily and ask miguel if he wanted to hold her, why would he say no?
“here you go, my love.” you whisper, putting your fragile daughter in miguel’s broad hands. he wants to cry. he wants to sob and kiss her all over her chubby face. her hair in tufts everywhere, she’s the perfect mix of you two. “she’s so pretty.. ella es perfecta. ya la amo.” miguel coos bringing her up to his own chest. “thank you so much, mi amor.” “of course. you deserve it, baby.”
“mi perfecta esposa e hija. todo mío.” he whispers, kissing you on your forehead, oh so proud of you for bringing this beautiful light into his once dark world. t; “my perfect wife and daughter. all mine.”
SCENARIO NO. 2
your daughter’s bright eyes look at miguel’s, almost identical. he’s on the floor, practically three feet away from your daughter, trying to coax her over to his buff stature. “vamos, mamá. puedes hacerlo.” he says, eyes wide and his hands waving her over, his daughter laughing and drooling. miguel couldn’t help but laugh too. you jog down the stairs to see a picture perfect sight — your husband trying to get your one year old daughter to walk. “hey.” you say, looking at how concentrated your husband was, saying hi back and smiling. “cmon, gabby, cmon.” he waves. she sticks her tongue out and spits, blabbering nonsense. miguel chuckles, turning the tv on to watch the basketball game between the nets and celtics. leaning back on his hands, he’s immersed into the tv almost immediately, not forgetting about you or his daughter.
“weeee!” your daughter giggles, pushing herself off of her hands, wobbling on her chubby legs. miguel looks over and his eyes widen, a smile making his way onto his features. “¡bebé bebé! ¡Ven aquí!” miguel calls you into the living room. you rush in to see your daughter wobbling her way to her father, his arms wide open. once she makes it over, miguel engulfs her in a hug, kissing her on her forehead. “¡Estoy tan orgulloso! tan orgulloso!” t: “i’m so proud! so so proud!”
SCENARIO NO. 3
you didn’t know how to break the news to miguel. would he be mad? would he leave you? no no..he would never. right? this was your thought process while you were mashing the potatoes in a pot, lauryn hill’s low hums ringing throughout the kitchen. “hola hermosa.” says your husband, hugging your around your waist. “hi baby.” you mumble, a sigh leaves your lips.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, pressing kisses to the crown of your head. “just thinking.” you respond. “about what? did something happen?” he inquires, pulling you closer to him. “well…yes. but nothing bad technically. maybe bad for you.” you tell your worried husband, you can feel his lips purse together. “tell me what’s wrong, te estoy suplicando.” he whines, not in a needy or helpless way, but more of a “please i need to know” way.
“i’ll tell you at the table.” you promise, putting a reassuring hand on his. he walks away and sits down in the living room, leaving you with your thoughts. almost an hour later, you announce to him the food is done, handing him his plate so he can eat. you sit down a while later after making your own plate and he looks up at you. “wanna tell me now?” he asks, putting his fork down. you take a deep breath and mutter. “impregnant.” it’s a slur of words he can’t comprehend, so he asks you; “what?” he chuckles at your nervousness.
“i’m pregnant, miguel.” you say, looking down at your food. there’s a beat of silence and you hear miguel sniff. you knew this was a bad idea. “¿en realidad?” he asks. “yes, i’m 100% serious miguel.” you promise, walking over to his side of the table. he brings you over and starts kissing your belly, tears cascading down his cheeks. “mi esposa tiene un bebe! ¡Un bebé perfecto y saludable!” he mewls, pressing his cheek to your stomach. you ruffle his hair and start crying yourself. this is the life you’ve always wanted.
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