Exhausted Fangirl

public enemy number one | girl dad bucky x fem reader

authors notes: this came entirely from a tiktok that i saw and thought yeah that's kinda bucky coded! i'm always so unoriginal when it comes to naming his kids, so oops. i swear this is so silly, i was just waffling for half of it.

warnings: sam's a menance, bucky threatens to kill him (lovingly), a whole load of fluff! and i think that's it?

word count: 1.2k

summary:

being a dad is all fun and games until she learns how to slap bucky— or so he thinks until you change his point of view on it all.

masterlist!

if you had to pick which was harder, between saving the world (twice) and being a mom for the first time, you'd have to pick being a mom. at least saving the world came with a little more sleep and some vague resemblance of a schedule. being a first time mom felt like you were free falling without a parachute.

and bucky?

bucky had been so good through all of it that sometimes he made you want to cry without even trying—the weeks of sleepless nights had been for nothing, he'd taken to it like a duck to water. and in all of that, he let you sleep in as often as he could, holding the fort down. today had been one of those days where you'd woken up to the light filtering through the crack in the curtains instead of tiny little cries from the nursery.

A/N : I like the idea of Bucky being completely tortured by the idea of feeling any sense of desire towards another human being. Idk man, I just like it. Also, talk of age-gap, but its Bucky...so yeah.

Bucky hated math. Always had. 

He wasn’t bad at it. Numbers came pretty easily to him. On the field, calculating a target’s position and adjusting his rifle was automatic. His tips always rounded to twenty percent, and he always had an idea of his grocery total before checkout.

At school, math was the only subject he didn’t need Steve’s help with. He did his homework with the thrill of a prisoner stepping in front of a firing squad, but still ended up with good grades. 

But Bucky hated math. Especially when it came to you. 

PAIRING: bucky barnes x female reader WORD COUNT: 344 (not too good at keeping to 300, am i? 😭) WARNINGS: fluff, reader is drunk, idiots in love, both reader and bucky are down bad, established relationship, no use of y/n. SONG PROMPT: dancing queen by abba (swap) LYRICS: “having the time of your life.” NOTE: IT’S MY BIRTHDAY 🥳🥳🥳 this is my birthday present to myself. i want a bucky barnes, someone tell me where i can buy one?? thanks <33 (swapped song — i believe in a thing called love by the darkness)

event masterlist | day twenty-two | day twenty-four | m. masterlist

PAIRING: mob boss!bucky barnes x female reader WORD COUNT: 300 WARNINGS: suggestive content, established relationship, no use of y/n. SONG PROMPT: rude by MAGIC! LYRICS: “jumped out of bed.” NOTE: i WILL complete this scribbles event. i will NOT give up. kinda love the colouring for the photos 🫠

event masterlist | day twenty-four | day twenty-six | m. masterlist

tags : bucky barnes x fem!reader , established relationship , SFW , bucky is a cat lover <3

word count : 400+

Meow.

Walking around the neighborhood park, you and Bucky stopped in your tracks.

You turn on your heel, behind you is a small kitten. Fur black, with the occasional white dotting over its nose and legs. 

Wiggling its ears, you see it slowly crawl up to the two of you.

“Oh my god.” You cover your mouth with your hands, lips curling into a smile you can’t control.

“Bucky! Look!” You exclaim, excitedly tapping his shoulder.

Bucky kneels down. His flesh arm guiding the critter towards him and his metal arm rubbing across its fur in a smoothing motion. 

The cat seems to like that, curling its tail into a C shape.

It turns on its belly, stretching out its limbs before rolling back up and crawling closer to Bucky. The cat confidently crawls over Bucky’s legs up into the crook of his metal arm, curling into a ball.

“It likes my arm.” Bucky smiles.

You secretly snapped a photo.

He continues petting the cat as it rests with his flesh arm. It was the first time you’ve seen Bucky smile for this long. His smile had always incited happiness in you too. It made you happy to see your boyfriend so calm. Away from the dangers of the world. Just you two.

“I think it’s Alpine's spirit guardian.” 

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”

Mrrrrowwwwwwwwww.

The cat yawned, a high pitch meow ringing in your ears. It quickly stood back up, and disappeared into the bushes as soon as it appeared.

“Noo! Kitty!” You kneeled in front of the bushes, trying to follow the cat's tracks, but the dark sky made it hard to see. You squinted. Nothing.

Bucky held out an arm and helped you stand. 

“Gone as soon as it came.” Bucky remarked, looking back at the bush.

You link your hands again, walking back home. You pull out the picture you took on your phone. Flipping the phone screen so he could see.

You giggle. “You're so cute.”

“Your 106 year old boyfriend is not cute,” he replied.

“Look at the picture. You’re the cutest.” You bump his shoulder while smiling.

“Dont send that to Sam.” 

“Too late.” You reply.

He tousles your hair with his hand, You chuckle and shove him away jokingly. He picks you up with practiced ease. You squirm. “Bucky! Put me down!” Kicking your legs and flailing your arms in the air.

He tilts his head to look down at you. A beat passes before he starts smothering your face in pecks and kisses, his stubble scratching your face.

You laugh “Bucky! Tickles!” you holler.

dick grayson x fem!reader

summary: after losing the person you thought you'd spend forever with, you crumble beneath the weight of self-doubt. thankfully, your best friend is there to remind you that you're worth choosing. author's note: ahhh thank you guys for all the love on my last two posts!! i was so certain that i wouldn't post again, but all of your kind words have made me reconsider. i hope you guys enjoy this one. ♡ warnings: lowercased, cheating, anxiety/panic symptoms, angst/hurt + comfort, self-blame word count: 1.5k words

the city of blüdhaven was a bit quieter after midnight. not silent, no, but quiet enough to hear the delicate sounds of rain pattering against your window and the faint police sirens blaring from a block away. 

and while it was a nice sound for most, you wished for the opposite--for noise to drown out the ringing in your ears and the storm slowly forming in your chest.

you had thrown your phone across the room after you mistakenly read the screenshots of the messages a fourth time. you thought that, on the last attempt, you’d be able to convince yourself it was an old thread between you and him.

but you don’t text like that.

and he’s never needed you to keep anything a secret.

now you find yourself seated at the foot of your bed with your head in your hands, allowing every insecurity you’ve ever had to swallow you whole.

maybe you weren’t pretty enough.

or as experienced.

maybe she was easier to love.

you tried to steady your breathing, but each breath caught halfway up your throat, as though your body had forgotten how to do something so simple. each inhale tightened painfully in your chest, leaving your lungs feeling empty and bruised.

somewhere between trying hard to breathe and trying not to think, you missed the light thud on your window.

“you know, i think i’m finally starting to win my ongoing feud with that gargoyle on fifth street--”

your head snaps up at the familiar voice.

“wow. tough crowd tonight, huh?”

dick hoists himself through your half-opened window with practiced ease, landing softly on the floor of your bedroom. rain clung to the dark strands of his hair, leaving a shine on his suit, as a few droplets trickled onto the hardwood floor beneath his boots.

“anyway,” he sets his escrima sticks against the wall, completely unaware of the chaos swimming in your head, “ i got our tickets for the new movie next weekend. all we have to do is order the matching pajamas, and before you say anything--yes, wally and donna will be wearing them too.”

a small smile almost pulls at your lips.

when dick comes to realize that you’re in a dark room and zeros in on your somber demeanor, his grin falters immediately, and his wit disappears, “hey…”

you refuse to meet his eyes.

he says your name softly, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

“nothing,” you say weakly.

but dick knows you better than that. he’s seen you truly happy before. he knows the way your eyes naturally squint when you smile, and how you beam like sunlight when you’re excited. he tilts his head slightly, studying you. this isn’t just “nothing”.

“mm,” his voice gentle and unbelieving, “and is ‘nothing’ the reason why you’re sitting in the dark alone on a friday night?” 

the question quietly shatters something within you, causing a sob to erupt from your chest without warning. in the same beat, dick freezes. not because he’s scared or hesitant, but because it hurts to hear you cry like that.

he immediately crouches down in front of you, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

“hey,” he whispers, urging your glossy eyes to meet his. he says your name again, pleadingly.

“talk to me.”

you close your eyes with shame, “i should’ve known.”

dick stays still, quietly wracking his brain to piece together possible reasons for your sadness. he moves his head in accordance with yours, following the movement of your eyes until you have no choice but to only look at him.

“he cheated on me,” you admit, your voice cracking beneath the weight of the confession. “and i should’ve realized it was happening the moment he started getting off of work late.”

for a moment, your words are met with deafening silence. dick doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you. 

of all the possible things he prepared himself to hear, that wasn’t one of them. 

someone cheated on you. 

his best friend. who’s kind. who over-apologizes, and ensures the needs of everyone around her are met before she even thinks about tending to her own. who remembers the little things, like favorite songs and smoothie orders. 

how could someone do that to you?

dick’s jaw tightens while his blue eyes continue to scan your face, instinctively searching for a version of the story where you tell him this is a misunderstanding.

“he cheated on you?”

you nod defenseless.

“no.”

“what?” you blink through tears.

“i know that’s not how this works, but no. i refuse to believe it.”

exasperation slips through your exhaustion, “dick—”

“i just—” he exhales, “i don’t know. what kind of idiot would do that?”

you look down again, “i really should’ve known. if anything i feel like an idiot. i was too in love to realize he was falling out of it—”

“sweetheart, you’re looking back at this with new information. you couldn’t have known.”

“i just feel so stupid. the red flags were there i just…” you pause, “i honestly just feel like i did this to myself.” 

his face falls at the way you’re speaking about yourself, “loving someone isn’t stupid. it could never be.” 

“i loved him so much, dick.”

“i know.” 

“i really thought we’d get married.”

the confession leaves your heart feeling even heavier than before. and leaves your best friend feeling like air has been knocked from his lungs.

it was now his turn to forget how to breathe. 

it wasn’t like he didn’t know the two of you were serious—he did. he tagged along for gift shopping, and helped you plan every anniversary surprise for the past three years. he couldn’t miss the way your face lit up when someone would mention your future. 

everyone knew how much you loved your boyfriend. 

dick most of all. 

but you saying it out loud tonight? hearing you mourn a future you were so certain about? 

deep down it made his chest ache. especially because you’re saying it through tears this time.

“it’s okay, though.” you force a weak smile. “i guess these things happen.”

that clears his head real quick.

“stop.” the interruption is both gentle and firm. his gloved hand carefully cups your chin, keeping your eyes on his, somehow causing all your words of doubt to dissolve on your tongue.

your brows furrow.

“we’re not doing that tonight.” he shakes his head, “you couldn’t have known, and i don’t want you convincing yourself that someone else’s betrayal was your fault.” 

another tear slips down your cheek and on instinct you turn away before he can see it. he doesn’t let you.

he smiles softly, “do you know what i see when i look at you?”

you don’t answer.

“i see someone full of love. who gives people second chances even when they don’t deserve them,” his thumb brushes your cheek lightly, “you’re gentle, and you’re caring. you still apologize when people bump into you, and you never hesitate to give the rest of your cash away to help the homeless man outside your apartment building.”

in spite of your sadness, a watery laugh escapes you. 

“you’ve been like this ever since i met you,” he says your name softly, “hell, remember when you’d still patch me up after patrol when i didn’t deserve it?”

“dripping blood all over my bedroom.” you mumble.

“yeah,” the corner of his mouth lifts, “and despite how long it’d take you to clean it after, you’d still help me anyway.” 

his expression softens even more, letting you feel every word.

“if someone can have all of that and still throw it away,” he takes a pause, as though the thought is unfathomable, “that is a serious loss on their end.”

dick stands from where he’d been kneeling in front you, and pulls you to your feet. you look at him, clad in suit and all, and the realization that he hadn’t even gone home first hits you like a truck. when his arms wrap around you, you fold into him completely, letting more tears fall at the idea of someone caring for you this way. 

despite the rain still clinging to his suit and hair, his embrace was warm. his hugs had the power to quiet the city further, leaving the sole sound of his heartbeat against your ear, and your erratic heart tripping over itself to follow suit.

before you know it, you’re tucked beneath your covers, and the sun patiently waits to greet you from behind your curtain. 

dick is asleep on your floor. 

wedged awkwardly between the wall and your bed, one arm is thrown lazily beneath his face— a poor attempt to make up for the lack of a pillow. 

his escrima sticks are still leaning against the wall where he’d left them hours ago, and empty wrappers from the food he tried convincing you to eat sit on the edge of your dresser. you remember how he insisted you eat and drink before bed—something about how dehydrated you might be from all that crying. you smile to yourself.

he stayed.

while the world kept spinning, and the boisterous city of blüdhaven continued, dick grayson stayed. 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

you've seen the jokes. india is "dirty", indians are "everywhere", why don't they fix their own country. ok. let me tell you why, and what's happening right now while nobody's watching.

first, the history you skipped: britain ruled india for two centuries and drained it. economist utsa patnaik's research estimates around $45 trillion in today's money was taken. the india that got independence in 1947 was one of the poorest countries on earth. every "why is india like this" question starts there. you don't get to profit off a robbery and then mock the crime scene.

now, what's happening RIGHT NOW:

in may the question paper for NEET leaked. that's the national medical entrance exam. over 2.2 million students took it. cancelled. years of studying, families' savings poured into coaching, gone overnight because someone sold the paper. students died by suicide after. these were kids who wanted to be doctors.

and out of that came a protest movement. a gen z group called the cockroach janta party, started by a 30 year old named abhijeet dipke, got 22 million instagram followers within DAYS. they've been doing a sit-in at jantar mantar in delhi demanding education minister dharmendra pradhan resign.

and then there's sonam wangchuk. if you've watched 3 idiots, he's the real engineer the character was based on. built solar schools in ladakh. invented ice stupas so himalayan villages have water. spent his whole life on education. he's 59 and he's been on hunger strike for 17+ days now. reporters went to see him this week and he was too weak to talk. and the troll armies are calling him "anti national" and "foreign funded". a man starving himself for other people's children. that's the thing here, anyone who asks a question is suddenly a traitor.

it's not one incident, it's everywhere you look:

• infrastructure worth thousands of crores failing within months of the ribbon cutting. tunnels collapsing in regions where heavy rain is a guarantee, not a surprise.

• youth unemployment near 10% for ages 15 to 29, 13.6% in cities. in a country of 1.42 billion where more than half the population is young.

• only about the top 3% of indians earn above 10 lakh a year. meanwhile billionaire wealth keeps ballooning and the headlines celebrate it.

• manipur burned for over two years. an ethnic conflict, tens of thousands displaced, and the prime minister barely said the word manipur while it happened.

• journalists raided. critics' houses bulldozed. activists sitting in jail for years without trial under laws like UAPA. our press freedom ranking has cratered.

• even the petrol is a fight now, ethanol blending pushed through while drivers complain about their engines and get no straight answers.

and through all of it, the PM, who came to power on religious polarisation (americans, sound familiar?), travels abroad for photo ops and has not held one single open press conference in over a decade. not one.

what i'm asking:

if you're not indian: share this. our media mostly won't cover any of it because the big outlets are owned by the same billionaires the government serves. the only reason wangchuk's fast is getting any coverage is people refusing to look away.

if you ARE indian: speak up even if you're comfortable. especially if you're comfortable. join the protests. add to this, correct me, translate it. staying quiet is a choice when nothing in this post touches your life.

india is not "dirty". india was robbed, and it's being robbed again, from the inside this time. but it's also the country where a 59 year old will starve for strangers' kids and 22 million young people will rally behind a party literally named after cockroaches, because cockroaches survive everything.

we can still save her. but only loudly.

Summary : Bucky loves his morning cuddles with his little girl Word Count : 1.7k A/N : This is literally so self indulgent guys. I had a dream a few days ago about this very sequence and I woke up in the middle of the night to jot down the idea so it won’t disappear in the morning

The first rays of sunlight always found Bucky awake.

Previously because of his soldier instincts. Then due to fear of not knowing where he would be when he woke up in the morning, the remnants of decades of trauma was never washed away easily.

But safe to say, there had been a time in his life when mornings meant alarms, missions, nightmares, and memories he wished would stay buried.

But now?

Mornings meant tiny socks scattered across the hallway. A stuffed bunny abandoned in the kitchen. The smell of coffee. Having you fast asleep in his bed, curled around him like he was your safe space.

summary: somehow, you and yelena end up on her couch after a night out, where you get to lay your eyes on her teammate Bucky Barnes for the very first time. thankfully, the alcohol in your system doesn't stop you from making a move on him. cw: reader is also a spy but doesn't work with the thunderbolts, light intoxication, flirting wc: 1.3k+

Yelena steps in front of you the second you get into the elevator, one arm outstretched to block you as she presses the button to the tower’s residential floor. You giggle, dropping your head against her back when a little compartment opens in the elevator wall, a laser scanning her pupils to verify her identity. The compartment shuts, and the elevator begins moving upwards. Yelena turns towards you with a wide grin, snatching the bottle of wine from your hand as she immediately asks “What are we watching? No, what are we ordering?”

You shrug slowly, closing your eyes as you try to imagine the taste of several different cuisines. The elevator dings and your eyes snap open. “Taco bell.” You mumble, following Yelena’s beeline towards the couch in the living room. You’re happy to throw yourself over its back, landing on the soft cushioning that has you moaning happily. Yelena laughs at you, her cropped shirt riding up her torso as she rolls over, reaching for the television remote while you unlock on your phone.

When you add your food order to the cart, you toss Yelena your phone, and she instantly ditches the remote for your phone. She hums to herself as she adds her likely questionable meal option to the cart, holding out your phone for you to grab when she's done. She glances at you from the corner of her eye as she picks up the remote, and upon realising that you aren’t going to sit up to retrieve it, she flicks her wrist, sending the phone flying towards you.

With a huff of disapproval, you pick the phone off your chest, poking Yelena’s thigh with your foot while lazily commanding “Put something on.” She grumbles to herself, trying to find the bottle of wine she had discarded somewhere.

The elevator dings again and you hum, lifting up your phone with furrowed eyebrows. You just ordered the food, so there’s no way it’s already here. You and Yelena both glance up at the same time, and you gulp thickly at the sight of a man stepping out of the elevator, and you sit up straight, gasping as you miscalculate how far up on the couch you are, instead rolling directly onto the floor.

Yelena lets out a loud cackle as you straighten up with a disoriented groan, but you still push yourself up to land onto the couch, swallowing thickly at the sight of the man who has left the elevator. You turn to Yelena, mouthing ‘wow’ when you catch her eye, and she grins, pointing a hand towards the mysterious man. He’s serious eye candy — his thick muscles constraining underneath his leather jacket, dark hair perfectly framing the sharp bone structure of his face.

“That’s my teammate, Bucky.” Yelena says, finally clicking onto a show. Its theme song begins playing loudly as you wave awkwardly towards Bucky, and he chuckles deeply, returning the wave. He walks towards the open kitchen, and you turn back towards Yelena, your eyes wide. You crawl closer to Yelena, mouth agape as you stare at her. “Why didn’t you tell me you had someone so attractive on your team?” Yelena rubs her eye with an enclosed fist as she smiles widely, listening to you as you continue muttering “I would’ve joined your stupid superhero team had I known he was on it.”

“Don’t worry, Bucky barely makes up for Walker. He’d be enough to turn you away no matter how hot you think Barnes is.” You hum, glancing back towards the kitchen where Bucky is drinking from a glass of water. You lick at your lips, eyes staying on him until you feel a sharp dig into your lower back. “Don’t be so obvious.” Yelena mutters, and you sink back into the couch, biting at your short nails.

From the kitchen, Bucky smiles to himself. He can hear absolutely all the words you and Yelena are exchanging, but he’s sure that in Yelena’s drunken state, she’s forgotten about that specific detail. Or she doesn’t care. That’s probably more likely. But Bucky knows who you are, or at least he knows of you. Yelena’s wallpaper is a photo of the two of you from years ago, equally talented spies but only much younger. Bucky knows that whenever Yelena disappears from the tower, she’s in your apartment. He knows whenever you’re out on your assignments, because Yelena never fails to mention it, and knows exactly what your sense of style is based on the contents of Yelena’s wardrobe. ‘Oh, she’s been looking for this jacket for ages. Don’t tell her I have it.’ Yelena has mumbled in the past, strutting around in your clothes.

But to know that someone like you — who’s so close to someone high-strung like Yelena — thinks he’s attractive? Well yeah, it certainly feels good. Especially when you’re easy on the eyes yourself.

“Going to the toilet,” Yelena announces, standing up as she grumbles “Too much wine, I think!” She zooms out of the room, and Bucky grins when you sink further into the pillows.

“Glass of water?” Bucky offers from the kitchen. You perk up, glancing behind you and shaking your head softly. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine. Thanks.” Bucky walks over to you, sitting next to you on the couch, cradling his glass of water in hand. “Didn’t know the spy life allowed for nights out like this.” He comments, eyeing your outfit. You swallow thickly, tugging at the fabric on your body in an attempt to make yourself seem more modest. “It doesn’t, really. This may be the first time I’ve gone out in over a month.”

Bucky smiles softly, nodding in relatability. “Yeah, I get that. The most I’ve gone out is for groceries.”

You laugh softly, a twinkle in your eyes as you question “Not even a dinner with a special someone?”

“Yeah, because this job allows us mental capacity to have a ‘special someone’.” Bucky scoffs. You grin; he’s immediately taken your bait. “Well I can be your special someone if you’d like. We can be the two wrongs that make a right.”

“Yeah?” Bucky puts his glass down turning his torso towards you. You straighten up a little, shrugging your shoulders as you kick your heels off, letting them clatter onto the floor. “Yeah, maybe.” Bucky smirks, unsure why he’s even flirting with you. He hasn’t even been on so much as a date since his hydra days, but something is different about this. You understand his lifestyle without being someone he already knows and sees everyday, but somehow, you’re not a stranger either. Bucky didn’t know a dating scene could even possibly exist in this profession.

“Let me take you to dinner, then.” He suggests, and you smile to yourself, feeling your face grow hot despite the fact that you were the one to flirt with him first. “Okay. Might have to do it tomorrow so you can catch me now rather than never.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” You nod joyfully, and Bucky reaches out to squeeze your knee before standing. He takes his glass of water with him as he leaves, and you find yourself staring at the circle of condensation it left on the table. Your phone lights up with a notification and you jump excitedly at the notification that reads ‘Your driver has arrived.’

Footsteps enter the room again, but before the sneaky blonde girl can say anything, you order “Yelena, go get our food.” She groans, and you don’t need to look at her to know that she has thrown her head back in annoyance, arms hanging loosely by her sides. “At least tell me you flirted with him.”

“Would you believe me if I said I got a date with him?”

“Okay, you don’t have to lie to me now.”

“Bitch, go get my taco bell.”

From around the corner, Bucky smiles to himself, thinking he’ll get along with you just fine.

the out ⌇ "I'm giving you an out, Bucky. Take it." ⤷ longer version of not enough

After another date, you and Bucky found yourselves glued to each other as you made your way into your room.

You locked the door as his mouth left little kisses along your neck.

"You know, um..." you close your eyes and bite back a smile. "There's this new coffee place a block from here. We could go get breakfast there tomorrow before you head home."

He immediately stops, and you feel his body freeze behind you.

You open your eyes and turn around slowly. "What's wrong?" you ask, and start kissing him slowly.

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"What isn't? Breakfast?" you laugh lightly, but stop when he doesn't react the same way. Your hands rise to his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

He takes a deep breath. "I guess we need to talk again."

"About what?"

"About... us."

"What about us?" you say, leaving little kisses all over his face and neck.

To others, it might seem like a couple spending a cozy morning in bed together, but panic creeps up your spine so quickly your heart nearly beats out of your chest because this isn’t like your man at all.

Usually, Bucky is up and out of bed with the sun rise, as he never really managed to get rid of the habits he developed as a soldier.

Sure, he always comes right back to bed when he notices you’re waking up, ready to spoil you with cuddles and fresh coffee first thing in the morning, but this isn’t something that has ever happened before. Bucky never sleeps in, not even after a long and grueling mission or when he isn’t feeling well. Now, it’s 9 am already, and you can’t help but carefully shake his shoulder, trying to wake him up as gentle and calm as possible even though you are anything but.

“Buck?” Your voice isn’t much more than a whisper, but the urgency hidden underneath makes his eyelashes flutter immediately. “Everything okay?”

The sound that slips past his lips is definitely not one you would expect from a super soldier like him, a whine more than it is a groan.

“No,” he complains, blindly reaching for you so he can tug you closer and nuzzle his face against your stomach, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt now. “You are a crazy woman, you know that? I won’t ever recover again. This is it.”

It takes you a moment to understand what the hell he is talking about, but when do, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, your fingers comfortingly running through his hair. “That bad, huh?”

”Bad? I’m broken, sweetheart. Leave it up to you to completely wreck a super soldier. Not that I’m complaining, though.”

“Of course you’re not,” you agree, your thoughts going back to how good you’d made him feel last night, finding out just how much his enhanced stamina could actually handle, making him take you until your husband couldn’t give anymore.

Turns out, testing just how often your man can cum in one evening is enough to leave him spent and exhausted like nothing else ever manages to wear him out.

And if that is enough to give him a break from the buzzing energy usually running through his nerves?

Yeah, you are definitely going to do it again.

summary: in which jason todd has a delightfully difficult conversation

cw: sfw, fluff, jason todd x fem!reader, afab reader, extremely dialogue heavy, discussions of having children, slightly suggestive but not really

a/n: brought to you by this lovely person here.

wc: 820

──── 𑣲𝒿 ────

Nothing was better than a good, long book and a night off without patrol. Head propped back on a high pillow and an English translation of a Russian novel in hand, Jason hummed away with the sound of flipping pages, shower running steadily in the background. The bedsheets were tangled around his legs, cool silk working its magic over scarred skin.

He was halfway through Crime and Punishment — a real feat after weeks of barely being able to read — when the sound of the showerhead ceased and replaced with ramblings he couldn’t quite understand from the other side of the door. He’d roll his eyes, knowing you were probably going on a tangent in the mirror for only yourself to hear, an event far from uncommon in the household.

It took no less than two minutes for the bathroom door to open, towel wrapped around your body and steam making its way out through the doorway and into your shared bedroom. No surprise, Jason’s glad he took a shower before you, knowing the water would be cold as ice afterwards. What catches him by surprise, however, is that you’d never stopped talking after coming out.

“We could throw them a hero-themed birthday party,” you blurted between the gibberish ramblings, which caught Jason’s attention, stealing his gaze from a particularly hard-to-read paragraph.

“Throw who a birthday party?” He’s surprised, to say the least. Last time he’d checked the calendar, nobody’s birthday was coming up any time soon.

“The baby.”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows hard.

“What, uh, what baby?”

“The one we’ll have at some point.”

The comment leaves him slack-jawed, a scoff making its way out of his mouth. Had he heard that correctly? Was he dreaming?

“Are you pregnant?”

The J-shaped scar that reaches his lips makes one side of his mouth seem bigger than the other as they hang open, cheeks dusting a light yet embarrassingly red colour.

“What? No. Future kids, Jason.” You seem far too smug with your words and that stupidly beautiful smile that has him swooning. Currently close enough to having a heart attack, he folds the corner of the page in his novel and leaves it forgotten on the bed. “Future kids,” he repeats the words, savouring them, “with me? As in my DNA in your womb? Kids with an ‘s’ at the end?”

“That is how pregnancy works, yes.”

He blinks at you: silent, analytical.

“…Which superhero are we thinking about for that birthday party?”

We. The word leaves his lips so naturally, he can’t believe it. For the first time in forever, the thought of having a child with you sounded perfect. Imagining the scenario — a white, picket-fenced house in the suburbs, you in a pregnancy gown, your stomach swollen and feet red at the porch as you wait for him. He could daydream that exact scenario for months and never grow tired of it.

You laugh, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously giddy. “Definitely not Batman. We all know how you feel about Bruce.”

He rolls his eyes for the second time since you’d come out of the bathroom. “Wonder Woman would be cool.” It’s a suggestion, but you know better than that. Jason’s had an obsession with the Amazonian’s heroism for a long time.

“You’re just saying that because you want a mini-you.” Jason pauses, raising a brow at your words. He can’t help but let out a laugh. “Mini-me? I would never. I’d rather our kid turn out like you.”

He signs for you to come closer, tugging at the towel that sat just above your breasts, pulling you in. You smile, swatting the muscle of his shoulder. A hard thump and a few rustles of bedsheets later, you’re pinned to the bed whilst the both of you laugh hard.

“You’re trouble,” he chuckles out, glancing down at your lips.

“Down, boy. I said future kids. Not now.” Regardless, you keep still in this position, admiring the sight of your boyfriend’s face: the scars, the burns, the beautifully muted green of his eyes. It’s all but a moment that passes quickly as Jason rolls onto his side instead, the mattress sinking into an impression of his body on his side.

“You’d be a great mother,” he whispers, propping himself up on his arm. His free hand rests above the towel against your skin, feeling your belly through it, splaying his fingers wide against the terrycloth.

“Soon,” you answer, “seeing as you’re so eager.”

He manages to cram a series of kisses between your banter, all done over the heat of your lips. “So… how many kids?” Jason grins, nudging his nose against your cheek just as a puppy would.

“Probably two, unless you plan to rehabilitate ten Robins into a manor.” You quip, running your hands through his hair.

paring: jason todd x reader

summary: jason comes home to the worst situation imaginable… you hearing another vigilante’s hoodie

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

“Hey, sweetheart. How was your-” Jason cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath.

Your eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern, eyes flickering up towards your boyfriend as he rounded the corner into your shared bedroom. You were propped up against the headboard of your bed, the book he had recommended just yesterday open in your lap.

“Jay?” You called out, eyebrows furrowing as you quickly set a bookmark in the pages and carefully placed the novel on the bedside table, “What’s wrong?”

The man was still frozen in the doorway, having barely taken a full step into your mutual space. His chest was rising up and down in frantic heaps, though he looked as though not nearly enough oxygen was getting to his lungs.

King!Simon had never been very affectionate. He didn't believe in it. There was no point in being frivolous with his love. It was stupid. It was for the weak.

That was until your child was born. She was small, so small it scared him. He was sure she was ill or something was wrong, but here she was dressed in what he considered to be the world’s most needlessly opulent dress for a little baby girl. She babbled happily and smashed her wooden toy horse into the stone floor of your shared chambers.

He huffs, eyes looking over your happy baby. “She looks ridiculous.”

“She looks royal. Like a little princess should,” you retort. You had dressed her in the finest clothes you could find, sent as a gift from your family. It was customary to show wealth and power with lavish clothing for your people. Simon did not feel the same way.

“Your people are strange. I see no need for this drama.” He mutters, sighing. He would never say it out loud, but he found her extravagant clothing to be entirely adorable.

You turn your nose up at him, scooping the little girl into your lap and adjusting her dress so it didn't wrinkle. “It shows she is important, Simon.”

“Important people have many furs or weapons. Things of strength, not… a little gold dress.” He insisted, patting the girls back as she coughs.

You roll your eyes and hand your daughter over to him when she starts to fuss, little hands making a grabbing motion at her father. “Oh hush. She is darling.”

“Mmm. Sweet child." He nods in agreement, poking her cheek with his finger, earning a squeal and laugh from her.

He indulged her at every chance. Toys and dresses filled the chest he had made for her with his own hands. He had even started a second to fit more of her possessions. In her short 8 months she had already accumulated quite a collection.

Simon took her everywhere, even if it wasn’t deemed “appropriate." Your little baby sat in on war meetings, happily chewing on her father’s collar, interrupting the council with happy shrieks or hungry screams. He even took her to the training ground, letting her watch the young soldiers train and practice their swordsmanship.

For Simon, there was no place that she didn’t belong. He has her on his lap while he tears his food apart, relishing in the large plate delivered to him. She also is very enthusiastic, shrieking and trying to take bites from his hands. “No, little one. This is not yours.”

“Bahhh bahh!!” She shrieks in growing frustration, tiny little hands slapping at his chest.

He shakes his head, adjusting her away from the food. “Yelling will not make me give you any. You are spoiled enough."

Your little, furious girl wails, face turning red as she starts to cry, confusion and anger overriding her usually calm demeanor. Her chest heaves as she tries to throw herself backwards in her dramatic display.

"Oh fine, child." Simon huffs and pulls her closer, handing her a piece of cheese that is far too big for someone so small. Her shrieking halts immediately, using her tiny little teeth to bite a chunk off of the wedge. She shakes the cheese up and down in delight, tilting it for you to see as you watch.

"Daddy spoils you again, I see," you joke, smiling at the exchange.

He looks scandalized by the claim, putting a hand to his chest. "What? She is a princess. She must be strong."

"And cheese will make her strong?" Sometimes you swore he said things just to justify gifting her things and spoiling her beyond reason.

He nods with full conviction. "Yes. Besides, she wants it. Best to keep 'er happy."

He lifts the girl so he can look at her chubby little face. He smiles as she takes another bite of her cheese. "She knows good food when she sees it." He plants a kiss on her cheek and adjusts the little bonnet you had put her in. "There we go, princess."

Simon’s little girl is unexpected to say the least. No one but the two of you knew about her, besides her pediatrician and even then Simon did not enjoy having another person know of his child.

He was terrified really. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t petrified of the wrong people knowing about her. He had seen too much to foolishly believe that the world would be safe for her. The world would be cruel enough to her already. Being his child came with a risk that wasn’t even her fault.

So when you show up on base with the little baby in her stroller, dressed in a little bonnet, yellow summer dress and the smallest shoes the men had ever seen, it was quite a shock. He had told them about you. Bits and pieces here and there. Never anything concrete. Certainly nothing about your baby girl.

She babbled nonsense as she was lifted out of her floral stroller, the one you insisted upon getting. “Ahhh bahhh bah!” She shrieked as she kicks her tiny legs, recognizing her father immediately, tiny hands clapping together.

He takes her into his arms. It looks ridiculous. Such a small thing compared to the towering behemoth of a man. “Hi, Lovie girl,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head. “You a good girl for mummy?”

You smile at your husband. You loved to see them together. It’s like Simon really became himself when she was in his arms. “The best.”

The team stares, confusion written all over their faces. Johnny looks almost offended at being kept in the dark. “Tha’ thing is yours?” He asks as he pressed a scandalized hand against his chest.

Simon merely grunts in response, adjusting the baby and grabbing her stuffed bunny from your bag.

“Don’t seem like the dad type,” Kyle mutters, though it’s void of judgment.

Simon ignores him. He knew it was true. It had been on his mind since the day you told him you were pregnant. Even now he couldn’t always shake the feeling that he wasn’t cut out for this.

Your girls babbling snaps him out of his thoughts. “Mmmaa buh.” She says with complete conviction, nodding her little head and reaching up to pull on the balaclava covering his face.

Johnny looks nothing short of delighted. He smiles at the baby and tickles her, making her scream in pure anger and try to bite him with her tiny teeth. Your girl hated nothing more than being tickled. “I’m the uncle, right?” Johnny grins as he squishes her cheeks, earning another attempted bite.

concur your timid tendencies

pairing: husband!simon “ghost” riley x shy wife!reader

summary: you surprise your husband with a new family member— if you can find out how to tell him

masterlist!

a/n: soooo cuteeee, anon :))) had soo much fun writing!! requests are open!

“awww, who’s the cutest girl in the world?” you quietly say in your best baby voice, “you are! that’s who!”

while your husband was away at work today, you decided to go to your local animal shelter, finalizing the adoption process for the precious kitten you’ve been bonding with over the last month.

it took you a while to muster up the courage to actually go to the animal shelter four weeks ago, your shyness getting the best of you.

simon usually helped you concur your timid tendencies, having you order takeout food over the phone, schedule his and your doctor appointments— some of his forms of exposure therapy. but, the brute happened to be absent from home daily, having to spend most of his days at work, meaning he couldn’t assist you all the time.

wanting to try your own form of exposure therapy, you started visiting the animal shelter, especially whenever you got too lonely. the puppies and kittens were always great company! animals were easier to be around than other humans— except for your si, of course.

and you may have gotten too close to one— an adorable kitten began following you everywhere you walked. she even started to yowl when you left the animal shelter, tugging at your heart strings. “she seems to really like you,” the vet said, squatting down beside you to pet the kitten, “would you be interested in adopting her?”

you were nervous about adopting your new pet, especially since you didn’t know how to tell your husband. you didn’t start going to the animal shelter with the goal of adopting, it just happened.

if anything, simon should be excited you added a new addition to your little family. she could help with your loneliness on the days he’s working, notably when the man gets deployed— his deployments were always excruciating to deal with alone. you needed this kitten.

“dada’s gonna be home soon, kitty!” you lifted the feline, snuggling her in your arms. “how am i gonna introduce you two?” you mumbled more to yourself, awwwing at your girl’s sweet purrs.

you played with your kitten in different rooms around the house, migrating from the living room, up the stairs to your bedroom, and even the bathroom— she had so much energy for such a tiny kitty.

placing a bowl of water and food down for her, you watched her consume it. “you’re probably really hungry, huh?” you giggled, petting along her back.

then, “hon? m’ home!”

it must’ve been a funny sight— you paused any movements, your kitty doing the same at your husband’s deep, thick accent.

“that’s him! we have to go kitty!” you scooped her up, lightly jogging up the stairs. hope si doesn’t hear me, you thought, placing the kitten in your bedroom. talking to her now, “please stay here and don’t leave! i have to prepare simon to meet you. i love you,” you kissed her, exiting the bedroom.

“sweet’eart?” you heard your husband again.

rounding the corner, “hi, si!” sweetly leaving you. throwing your arms around your husband’s neck, “how was work today?” just gotta act normal.

simon responded, encircling his arms around your waist, “same ol’, same ol’.” he kisses your cheek, pulling away, “wha’ were ya doin’? took ya a bit to come.”

thinking, oh great, questions! while putting on your best poker face. “you know, just listening to music in my headphones! i couldn’t hear you at first,” you replied, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the kitchen. “heard. jus’ don’ have it too loud next time, yeah fawn? could be dangerous for ya if it’s not m’ comin’ in,” he squeezed your hand in response. “yes, si! i didn’t even think about that!”

you ate dinner with your husband, chatting about the activities you both did today— you purposely leaving one out. simon was surely gonna find out about the kitten sooner or later, and you were okay with it being later! you just didn’t know how to tell the brit.

“luvie’?” your husband pulls you out of your thoughts, “wha’ are those doin’ agains’ tha wall?”

following where he was pointing, your eyes widened, landing on the kitty’s food and water bowls. shit, how could i forget to put those away!

“i-i don’t—” you stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse, but nothing.

simon raised an eyebrow, “mhmm?” vibrating deep in his chest. the man was having fun with this. “have somethin’ ya needa tell m’?” “n-no, si—”

meow.

a beat of silence.

“wha’ was tha?”

you winced, turning to look at the culprit in the doorway. “surprise!” you waved, walking to grab your kitten, she always follows me everywhere. i should’ve known better.