#wayne reader

[evieliney]

how i feel after searching for hours for fluff but all i can find is sucking their soul out of their dick.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

One chance, will you succeed? II

Synopsis: being forced to live with your supposedly 'father' you have finally succumb to your fate. But what if you have one more chance to get out? But you'd have to sacrifice your pride for your future. Can you do that?

In school you had learned that a muskrat would chew off its own leg to get out of a trap.

You had mixed feelings about that at the time.

It was brave what the muskrat what doing, but it was also kind of stupid. Atleast that's what you thought.

But now looking at what position your in ,you begin feeling exactly how the muskrat must've felt when trap clamped down on it's leg.

Muskrat aren't that smart and they don't have hands. They wouldn't know how to take off the trap even if someone showed them.

Now, you feel exactly how the poor animal felt.

Helpless.

You wouldn't describe yourself as a helpless princess waiting to be saved. But you sure wouldn't deny anyone willing to help.

But alas you have no one to help you. So you have to do the dirty work instead and in doing so maybe lose a bit of pride and dignity.

But who's to blame you when this is the only option you have? Well, there's no one here to blame you or know what you're planning on doing...

Well except the desperate boy beneath you...

But not even he knows your true intentions and that's clear by the way he keeps his hands tightly around your hips.

As if he's scared you'd vanish if given the chance. (You would.)

His breaths comes out in whines and he can't help how his hips push up into yours. You can barely even tell what he's saying at this point something like "Please, I'll be good." But you don't really care either.

You should push him away since everything has gone to plan. Your tracks are covered there's nothing else to worry about...but what would be the fun in that?

"Your pathetic." You mutter but he hears it. And he doesn't even deny or try and defend himself. Because what's the point? Right now that's exactly what he is... Pathetic.

He squims beneath you trying to get any friction possible.

Being tired of his needy please you kiss him in hopes of shutting him up.

The kiss is rushed and you honestly just want it to be over but he holds your face firm against his keeping your lips locked together.

He kisses you roughly not daring to let go. His hold on the back of your head is firm and you wonder if he's actually trying to kill you by how your losing air.

Eventually he does let go and you both gasp for air and you see it in his eyes. His sick deluded eyes.....

He's inlove with you.

Now thats some deep shit. You had thought that his obsession was nothing deeper then him just wanting to know you.

But as you look into his baby blue eyes you can see it clear as day.

Your sure that if he was a cartoon there'd be literal hearts in his eyes.

He doesn't give you much thought on that though ,as he slightly pushes you off just slightly though. And you think that he's trying to get you off his lap but he's not.

You quickly try and get off but he stops you and keeps a firm hand on your hip as the other goes to unbuckle his pants.

You look at him confused did he really want it to go this far? Oh, who are you kidding of course he did! He's as pathetic as lovesick puppy.

He positions you right back onto his now very hard buldge and now the only thing that's separating you two is his boxers and your clothes.

"Don't stop....please?"

And when the hell did his voice get so cute when he's whining? You can see the tears of frustration and pure need on the edge of his eyes almost daring you to make them fall.

But then the gods above must've seen your position or maybe you just got lucky either way you aren't complaining.

'Ding!' Your phone goes off and Tim's to lost in the moment to even hear it. But you do and your quick to grab it.

And you ignore Tim's childish pout as you check the message.

'Sister, I require your assistance on this particular painting. Meet me in the art room ,immediately.' The texts reads and for once your actually glad that Damian texted you.

"Sorry I gotta go. Damian needs me." You mutter pushing his hands off your hips and standing up.

"You can't just leave like this....please?" Tim begs and he follows your action and stands up.

"I'm sure the brat doesn't need you that bad." He continues trying to reach for you but your quick to pull away.

"And if I don't go he'll come looking for me...and how would we explain what we were doing? Huh genius?" You say mockingly. You wanted what you were saying to hurt.

You wanted him to feel how you felt everyday inside the manor ,hurt.

"Of course the Demon brats a cockblocker too." Tim whispers under his breath but you don't hear him. No, your already out the door before he can try and persuade you to stay.

Walking down the hall and up some more stairs you found yourself at the door of the art room.

Only damian would demand your attention at 2am. But you can't act to suspicious or look like a mess.

So you make sure your hairs decent and your clothes are smoothed and take a deep breath before walking in.

Walking in Damian already standing infront of a canvas covering whatever is painted on it..

"What took you so long?" Damian asks his eyes never leaving the canvas.

"I was asleep, like you should be." You say adding a fake yawn to sell the act.

Damian scoffs rolling his eyes ,decideding to ignore the obviously fake yawn.

"Well art doesn't sleep, sister."

"Well your not art." You retort , voice still holding that same venom you've had ever since you met him. Or more like they forced you to meet him.

"You speak so little of me ,sister...as if you do not care." He says the pout on his face now very clear as he turns around to face you.

"I don't." You mutter under your breath as you scoff but you don't let him hear your words. No, you'd be a fool to do that. Last time you did that the outcome was not in your favor. So you say it quietly...

"What are you painting?" You ask as you move infront of him to look at the painted canvas.

Your movements are so fluid as if he's not there and that causes the small boy to pout even more.

"Don't you ever get tired of painting me?" You say as you look at the canvas that was almost mirror-like.

It looked just like you, you couldn't help as your hands traced the outline of your painted face on the canvas.

It was almost cute how Damian looked up to you. Almost. It started off simple a sketch now and then ;then it turned into full on murals.

It was nice knowing he looked up to you. But you draw the line at the obsessive amount of painting dedicated to your face solely.

"Don't you ever get tired of hating me?" He says his eyes looking at you with adoration but you can tell he's memorizing every inch of your face. Probably for another painting.

"Fair enough." You whisper more to yourself then to him.

"Do you like it?" He asks ,his voice quiet waiting for your approval. Needing your approval.

"Its....realistic." You murmur eyes still on the undeniably beautiful painting. But you'd never tell him how much you truly admired his work.

He hums heart squeezing in his chest at how you barely react. It should get easier each time you critique his art or each time you verbally state you have no interest in being his sister.

But it doesn't.

It hurts just the same each time. Even worse on some days.

The young ex assasin boy will always yearn for your approval no matter how much you deny him.

"That's the point." Damian mumbles but his words have no true bite to them like they would if someone else would've committed on his painting. No, his words are soft and hurt.

His eyes now at the floor unable to look you in the eyes. As of he's disappointed ,not you ,but at himself.

And for a moment the room is calm as you stare deeply into the painting that replicates you completely.

Tearing your eyes away you turn to Damian. Sadly he doesn't look at you back. Instead he stands like a kicked puppy begging for acceptance. Atleast that's what he looks like. And kinda is.

Looking at him now he doesn't look like robin. Or an ex assasins...just a kid. But you have to remind yourself what he's done to you. What they've done to you.

So you don't show any empathy as he continues looking pitiful. Though his eyes continue looking at the ground you notice something.

Something different.

You tilt your head and your hands make their way to his chin lifting it so his eyes meet yours. And he gladly let's you since he's so eager for your affection.

His eyes look at you softly waiting for anything ,but your to worried about something else.

"Your eyes...their blue." You say your voice just a whisper as if verifying it to yourself.

Damian tilts his head like a confused puppy.

"They have always been blue ,sister" Damian says his voice soft but also mocking.

"No, they were green..." You say your eyes never leaving his now blue ones. What was going on?

His eyes have always been green you were so sure of it. Though yes you despised him you couldn't deny his eyes were beautiful.

Green like the forest you thought. Never blue. One of the traits he got from his mother... atleast that's what you thought.

"Are you feeling well ,sister?"

"Stop lying. Your eyes have always been green." You say your grip on his chin tightens almost instantly but not harsh. Never harsh.

Damian looks at you like you just just said something ridiculous and that makes you confused. He really isn't lying is he?

Letting go of his chin you step back.

"Are you sure your alright, sister? I'll go get Alfred..." Damian says worry etched on his face as he looks at you. You look fine just....confused.

"No, don't get Alfred. I'm fine...just need some sleep." You say hoping he'll buy the lie. Even though part of what you said is true.

Because how the hell did his eyes change colors over night? Yeah you definitely needed sleep.

"I'll assist you to your room ,sister." Damian say his feet already making their way towards you.

"There's no need damian. I know where my room is." You say sarcastically already making your exit out of the art room before Damian could protest.

You rub your temples on your way to your room ,clearly stressed. Were you really losing your shit?

"You okay sweetheart?" Bruce voice rings throughout the quiet hall till it reaches your ears. Of course you weren't alright your losing your damn mind! But like he'll your telling him that.

"I'm fine ,dad."

Dad? Dad. God's you hated calling him that but you knew what would happen if you didn't. And sitting through an entire movie with your overbearing father was not on your wishlist.

"Just tired." You mumble as you continue walking. Trying to escape having a full conversation with the man you couldn't stand.

"Get some rest!" Bruce all but shouts as you continue walking to your room.

You sigh as you finally lay down in your room. Peace. This was peace. But what do the always say? Oh, yeah.

Calm comes before the Storm.

You yawn your eyes finally drifting shut as you roll to lay on your side only to fill something crumb beneath you. Groaning you lazily try and pull whatever is underneath you out.

But it doesn't budge so you tiredly sit up. And pull the piece of now crumbled paper from under you.

"Shit I thought I put up my homework?" You mumble tiredly but the rooms to dark to see what's on the paper.

But wait this doesn't feel like just a piece of paper. Something inside you is deeply telling you but you toss it aside decideding to wait till tomorrow. Because right now you need sleep.

The next day you wake up to thunder a big storm. Yawning and wiping your eyes you hardly even glance at the raging storm outside but what does catch your eye si the piece of paper from lats night. Actually it's a note.

Your gut gets that feeling like you're about to puke. But you brush it off. It's just a dumb note right? Probably from dick telling you about his day or jason telling you he'll see you today. Or maybe even Tim annoyed about the state you left him in last night.

Either way it's just a note right?

Wrong. The words in the note twist your stomach like you've been pushed down a forty feet tower.

And in this moment you feel just like the muskrat who chews off his own leg to escape the trap.

But you also understand one thing from the muskrat now ,that you didn't before.

Maybe the muskrat wasn't stupid or brave.

Maybe the muskrat knew he'd die if he chewed of ihis leg.

But maybe dying was better then living his whole life with his foot trapped in a cage....

Oh! and what did the note say? Simple words really.

'It worked. NOW RUN.'

Who knows this might be your way out. But you could be just as stupid or brave as the muskrat.

The question is are you?

Thanks for reading!

Likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Taglist: @alwaysholymilkshake @0sunnyside01 @a-taken-url @hearts4mica

[graywaynewriter]

Bruce Wayne and daughter reader meets Damian for the first time

Brother ?

a/n: here I’ll just refer to daughter reader as daughter Wayne in case if anyone is looking for it in the tags

It was yet another late night, waiting on your father to come back from patrol. You weren’t too busy that night so you had to wait for him while you monitored some of the screens with Alfred. It wasn’t unusual for him to take longer than he said he would since so many unexpected twists, and turns can happen with an expanse of time. However, later on he pinged you letting you know, he was on his way home and to have the entrance of the Batcave, ready.

As the dark machine rolls into the Batcave, it’s engine comes to a halt as the latch opens, and Bruce steps out. However, this time he had company with him, he had a young boy who looked no older than 13 years old he thought to yourself that he probably brought home another robin so you stand up and approach them and say

“ Another robin?” You ask with a slight smile, however Bruce‘s face does not change. Instead of him answering the young boy answered instead.

“ more like the heir to Wayne Enterprises,” he crosses his arms as he scans your body up and down “who are you?”

“Hu-“ you were beyond confused because as far as you know, you were Bruce Wayne‘s only child.

“Damian is my son, Y/N….he’s your brother.” Bruce explains briefly “it’s a long story having to do with Talia. I’ll explain what happened later.

Is he still there processing the information Damien decides to start circling you like a vulture and observing your figure and trying to read you

“Hm, you don’t look like a fighter, but I suppose every family supposed to have a child who is just for show” he said, as he stopped and looked back to your face. And with a straight face, he says “ you’d be in much better shape if you actually worked out. Maybe one day you’ll even measure up to me”

All you do is stare at this random kid that just pulled up with your father as he criticize you in your skills. Sure you didn’t go on any patrol, but that was all by choice.

“…. So not only does he look like you, but he has to say everything that’s on his mind it seems” your eyebrows furrow as you look at your father trying to subconsciously ask him what in the hell is going on

“That’s enough Damian,” Bruce steps in and looks to Alfred “Alfred, could you please take Damien to the room that he will be staying in”

"Of course Master Bruce, this way Master Damian," you remain quiet as you watch the two exit the Batcave and you look back to your father.

"So....I have a brother huh?"

"It seems that way Y/N," Bruce said in his low gruff voice "this information is just as new to me as it is to you. I know Damian is....a handful, but we need to try. His life would be better here than with the league," he said resting a hand on your shoulder.

"I suppose so....you don't think he'll cause trouble do you?" you asked

"well....I hope he doesn't But I'll be sure to keep an eye on him,"

Next thing you know you were watching Damian shred up the garden shrubs with Alfred the next morning. You both jut sip on some tea Alfred had brewed up for you.

"So, why is he doing this?" you asked as he took the head off of the shrub in the shape of a bear

"Training, I was told at least," Alfred answers as Bruce walks into the kitchen ready to head into the office

"Well as long as he doesn't touch my-NOOOO!" with a quick slice the bush of hibiscus flowers was cut in half and you freak out "MY FLOWERS! DAD!"

Setting your cup down your rub out into the garden barefoot and start waving yours arms around. While Alfred and Bruce watch from the window as you scold Damian for the brutal damage to your favorite bush. Bruce lets out a sigh and Alfred adds,

"I will call the gardener and landscaper,"

"Thank you Alfred" Bruce sighs as he watches you both start to argue back and forth. He had to go and step in before anything got out of hand.

The following weeks were just the same. Start off pretty tame, and argument happens and you were bother bickering as most siblings do. He had even had his moments with your father and even Nightwing. To the point where Alfred had to stitch him up because of the fight they had gotten into while he was out on patrol.

He seen that almost anyone he ran into he pick a fight with. Whether that was verbal or physical or even both. However, sometimes you would see him sit on his own and just contemplate about things. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on what could be on his mind, but in a way it did make you sad. All he ever knew was the league of assassins, it was like he had no childhood no fun on top of that. He never really knew your father.

It’s like you got to enjoy Bruce without him being around and this is his first time being an actual child to a father. Even though he was so stubborn about it and insisted on being an adult at the ripe age of 14.

In the following weeks, you even try to get up at around the time that he did. Which was around five in the morning, which is absolutely insane, but you would try to wake up either way and make breakfast for him. It was a small star, but it was something to show him how different life could be.

Perhaps having your blood related, brother, suddenly appear, wouldn’t be such a burden as it once seemed. Although he may clash with you and almost everyone around him, you think he just may need some guidance. He definitely needs a lot of time to adjust. But there are times you would look at him and you would just see a smaller version of your father, especially when it came to training or bettering himself.

And even when you thought he would bring nothing but trouble you can see just a sliver of light in his eyes. And there was no doubt that he had gotten it from Bruce. Maybe having a brother wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

🦇Taglist:

[mistycreativelilacs]

Thawing of A Heart Pt.3

Authors note: what’s this? Not me updating this fic three years later.

Whoops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯… Anyway here’s the (maybe) long awaited third part filled with tension and plot twists.

Content warning: Violence, gun use, references to castration, references to mental health, use of the word crazy, mild angst, mentions of character deaths, Peacemaker exists (rip to people who like him)

Pt.1 (x) Pt.2 (x)

You’re lost in the ever-changing branches of Rick’s timelines when Cleo nudges you. Your eyes sweep the plane, unable to stop the pang of longing for your old team. The pang turns to a dull ache in your chest as you attempt to block the visions of your friends' flickering timelines. If you were going to be any use to them, you’d need to re-adopt the Ice Queen persona you’d had when you started this job five years ago.

“So how does Bruce Wayne’s eldest charity case end up working with a bunch of second-rate criminals?” Bloodsport interrupts your pondering. He’d been watching you since the debrief, eyes trained on you like a puzzle he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to solve. You could imagine what Harl’s would have to say if she were here.

‘Ooooh, looks like someone’s got themselves a shiny new criminal admirer. Should I lick you to show him you’re already claimed?’ Said in the world’s worst stage whisper to garner Flags attentions. Subtlety and Harley were not synonymous, and no one cared more about the pseudo-relationship between yourself and Flag then your self proclaimed ‘BFF’. She’d expressed her feelings on the matter several times over the years. Your favourite instance being several months ago, during one of your last missions with the team. You and Flag had been arguing about sending you in to get information from the target when Harley sauntered over wicked grin on her face. ‘You twos should just relieve this obvious tension already. Seriously, here’s a broom closet. Go at it, for the good of the team.’ Manic smile still firmly on her face as she attempted to drag you into said closet.

“I believe the words you meant to say, Sergeant Dubois is ‘Bruce Wayne’s eldest child’. To which I’d have to say we have more of a sibling relationship. Not that it’s any of your business.” You hold his gaze. “As for joining the squad?” You shrug, “Wrong place at the right time.” He quirks his brow clearly unamused.

“I haven’t been a Sergeant in a long time.”

“And just what would you call your current roll here?” You gesture around the plane while he glares at you. The corner of your mouth twitches against your will.

“Waller evidently had been keeping tabs on me, due in part to certain rumours about my participation in corporate espionage. So, when I got picked up by GCPD for allegedly crashing Bruce’s new Ferrari into the lobby of LexCorps newest eyesore of a skyscraper in downtown Gotham, Waller swooped in.” Your little chat had garnished the attention of the plane's other occupants, their heads all turned towards you and Robert.

“You want us to believe that the daughter of Billionaire Bruce Wayne got hauled off to Belle Reve for crashing a car? And what could Waller want in a civilian like you anyway?” Peacemaker. You’d been attempting to avoid him since Waller introduced you at the debrief. If his persistent existence as the antagonist in your visions of Flag’s current timeline wasn’t enough to turn you off, the skin crawling sensation of his eyes constantly roaming over your body was enough to put him firmly in the creep category.

“Crashing a car didn’t get me sent to Belle Reve. As I said, I’d been the subject of corporate espionage rumours for years. Waller used my accident combined with those rumours to get me whisked to Belle Reve under the guise of my being a National Security risk. It took one phone call from Bruce to get the charges dropped, but by then I was already in the middle of Midway City on my first Task Force mission.”

“If the charges were dropped, why stick around?” Your eyes wonder back to Robert.

“Can’t a girl want to be part of something bigger than herself?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice and somewhere in the back of your head a voice - that sounds suspiciously like Harley- reminds you that you’re here to save Flag, not flirt with attractive violent Englishmen. Even if they did fall perfectly into your type of the emotionally constipated older dilf. “No, much like all of you Waller has a small amount of blackmail to keep me compliant.” You cross one leg over the other, adopting the oh so familiar public persona of a Wayne. “Unlike all of you, I’m being paid to be here.”

“But why does she want you here?” Peacemaker leans forward in his seat.

“Originally, she believed me to be some sort of hacker savant or a meta with some sort of compulsion powers. I was neither of those, but I did prove to be quite useful in the field.” Your gaze moves to you lap as timelines tickle the back of your mind, begging to be seen. “I do dread the day she realizes just what kind of bird she’s caged.” An image of Rick in pain flashes through your mind. Gone before you can really grasp if it was a future timeline or your own imagination.

“Are you saying you’ve got some sort of bird powers?” You toy with checking the timelines to see just how fucked you’d be for killing Peacemaker here and now but ultimately decide it’d give Waller more ammunition against you.

“My powers lie more in the line of a… second sight than with birds, although…” You pretend to mull it over, “I’d probably get along better with you if my powers were more avian in nature.” You could see the ghost of a smirk flirt across Robert's face and a warmth flits through your chest.

You avert your gaze before the familiar itch of branching timelines can pull you under. Perhaps Flags icy demeanour of the last few months had affected you more than you thought. It’d been a long time since such minor attentions from a man had you near slipping into the branches of time.

“What the fucks that supposed to mean?” Peacemaker stood abruptly, moving towards you only to be halted by Robert’s hand on his chest.

“Alright tough guy, sit back down.”

“Was it my use of verbose vocabulary words that has you confused?” You stand, waltzing closer to where they stand, one strand of hair curled around your finger. Perhaps Harley had been rubbing off on you more than you cared to admit. “Let me put it in words you’d understand.” Your standing face to face with Peacemaker now, Roberts body only partially between the two of you. “You.” You jab your finger into Peacemaker's sternum, brushing against Robert's arm. “Dumb.” Another jab. “Like.” Peacemaker's eyes had drifted to your finger on his chest while Robert attempted to move himself more in front of you. “Bird.” With the final jab you run your finger up and flick him in his nose, a move reminiscent of your nephews. With that final flick all hell broke loose.

Peacemaker moved to advance on you, having shoved Robert aside. You were expecting this, having let slips of the timeline penetrate your consciousness, and turn your back to him at the last minute grabbing the arm he’d reached forward to attack with. You flip him over your shoulder and as he slams into the planes floor, you dig your foot into his neck pointing your gun at his face.

“As you can see Robert, those fears of me being dead weight can be put to rest. I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself. Even against dumb brutes like him.” Peacemaker moves to grab your leg, and you let off a shot beside his head. “Stay down or the next ones a castration shot.” You move the gun to point at Peacemakers crotch and you catch a glimpse of fear in his eyes.

“Bitch” he gasps out as you dig the ball of your foot a little deeper into his neck.

“A bitch with near immunity, not that anyone would care if I wounded trash like you. Now are you going to shut up and behave like a good little dog.” Theres a flash of defiance in his eyes and you twitch your trigger finger.

“What the hell are they teaching in those fancy prep schools?” Robert's face didn’t give much in the way of what he was feeling, much like Flag, however you’d noticed that unlike Flag, Roberts eyes displayed his every emotion, if you knew what to look for. God, a few hours with this man and you’d already believed you could discern his emotions from a single glance. The sooner you got out of this plane the better.

“Looks like Rickies got some competition…” There goes the phantom Harley once again. Maybe her crazy is rubbing off on you like Bruce feared.

“Dancing.” You spit out, holding Robert's gaze as you remove your foot from Peacemaker's throat. “They teach you how to dance.” You’re finding far too much enjoyment in this little rapport you’ve started with the mercenary, but even Harley didn’t put up with your idiosyncrasies for this long, unless she was in a mood. The last person who could, ended up on the wrong side of Jokers crowbar. Perhaps Waller was right when she claimed the only thing separating me from the rest of the Belle Reve residents was the Wayne family name.

“I highly doubt dance lessons taught you how to do that.” There’s a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“Dancing, fighting.” You shrug “They’re one in the same are they not?” You sit back down, aware that the rest of the plane has gained a new wariness of you. You feel more than see Robert give you a once over.

“You truly are something else Wayne.” Robert exhales as he sits back down, the hint of a chuckle shaking his bulky frame.

Alarm bells start going off in your head. The kind of alarms that sound like Bruce and scream ‘life altering, name ruining, PR nightmare, absolutely atrocious decision making incoming.’

“You don’t even know the half of it Sergeant.”

Tag-List: @paryl @nerdgrrlramblings @weallhaveadestiny @a-girl-who-loves-disney @boristhepineapple @girlnred @romanticgumchewer-reactivated @lacontroller1991

[k1tk4ttt]

How it feel to finally accept and embrace the cringe of reading x reader fics

[bloodyboi]

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[fromdove]

seeing my man with his canonical love interest 💔💔💔💔

[babymangosworld]

Me when y/n is acting like a little fucking child for male validation

[uniicorns-arereall]

are you guys ever reading a good fic and then the author just adds a random terrible line and you just stare at it like this:

[12welveinched]

Me after clicking a p link thinking it was a fic rec.

Jumpscare.

[gilverrwrites]

Wayne!Reader thinking she’s finally safe with Roman tucked away in Arkham until she comes home one day in his prison break look, shirt untucked with the sleeves rolled up and the top button undone, already manspreading so she’s got room to get on her knees for him

God yes! Yes yes yes! Got this ask while I was waiting for my hair appointment and was basically grinning to myself the whole way through thinking about this. 🖤🖤🖤

So the image is from the Deathstroke/Teen Titans plot where Damian and Emiko were secretly keeping villains imprisoned cause they didn't trust the justice system to do it right and I just…

Roman has been missing for months, unexplained. You don't care how or why, you just care that he's gone.

You take the opportunity to move, ending up in Star City which is the other end of the country in the hopes that if Roman ever comes back, you'll be too far for him to find. Oblivious to the fact that you're actually only one state over, or that his loyalist of informants are well aware and ready to spill as soon as they get word from him.

You told your family you wanted to get away after Tim’s passing, that you needed space. It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth, it was merciful to spare them the details.

Things are getting back on track, you're piecing a new life together. Until one day you get a phone call from your youngest brother, Damian. He tells you about his secret plan and how it's gone awry. It's a shock to you, not because it's out of character for him. On the contrary, your baby brother imprisoning some of the universe's greatest villains is completely in character. You're just not sure why he's telling you this. Heroism has never been your thing, and while you've always had a close bond given your half-blood relation, Damian has never purposefully sought out comfort from you.

“You needn't say anything, sister. I did not call you for comfort, and I will face the consequences from Father as he sees fit.”

“Then what’s this about?”

“The Black Mask was amongst the escapees.”

“Wh-why are you telling me this?”

“I do not know how or why, but it was apparent not just to me that he has been hurting you.”

“I- I don't know what you're talking about Damian.” It's at this moment you arrive home to find your front door slightly ajar. Damian is talking but you're not listening, too focused on fishing your stun gun from your handbag as you try to peak through the crack in the door. “I have to go, talk to you later.”

The last thing you hear from your brother is “Be safe.”

Your heart is racing as you creep down your hallway as silently as possible, but your efforts are pointless. That unmistakable, gruff voice calls your name halfway. “Is that you, baby?”

When you round the corner and lock eyes on him, you immediately notice that he’s a mess. Missing his jacket and tie. His shoes are scuffed, shirt half undone, sleeves rolled up. In the past, you’d fucked him brainless, but even at his most out of it, he’d never looked so dishevelled. Even his mask is damaged. Pieces are missing, revealing a sharp, shadowed jaw and half a vicious smile. One near-black eye leers at you, the other hidden by the red cosmetic lens.

The second thing you notice is how easily he’d made himself at home in what was supposed to be your safe-haven. He’s sat back on your couch, one hand on a short barrel rifle, the other sipping your wine, from one of your glasses. His legs are spread wide, the outline of his hard-on evident through his worn trousers.

When was the last time he’d felt the touch of a woman? How long had he been dreaming of the things he would do to you once he got out of those chains? How much worse would this be for you if he ever discovered the hands behind his suffering had been your brother’s?

There’s no escaping him. You could leave, you could run at him with your taser, you could call your family, or the police but the stories, the videos, the shame, it would all catch up to you eventually.

You deposit the gun back into your purse and drop it on the floor, defeated before you’ve even tried to fight. He likes you like this; submissive. The unveiled corner of his lips split, his wicked grin giving way to show off his teeth.

“Daddy’s home.” Already your body responds to him. The way he drawls that self-appointed title so despicably, so lustfully makes your core grow tense and excited even as your chest grows tight with dread. “Why don’t you crawl on over here and show me just how much you’ve missed me?”

[fallsndreamsalone]

[k1tk4ttt]

when you just finished one of the most beautiful fics ever written and you see that the author has a masterlist full of other fics

[rainydaygotham]

Imagine “borrowing” the left glove of your man’s super suit for a bit while he’s napping and stitching a small band of embroidery thread around the ring finger. The thread is colored only slightly darker than the original color of the fabric. It was so inconspicuous that no one who wasn’t looking for it would notice. In fact, it takes your vigilante fiancé about a week to find it himself.

He has to do a little double take, momentarily forgetting what he was doing in favor of inspecting his hand. It’s not an accidental loose thread or anything, it’s an intentional alteration to his uniform, meant to be there. And it’s very clearly supposed to be a wedding ring, so he knows exactly how it got there. He just doesn’t know when. Oh, hopefully he hasn’t been oblivious to your handiwork for long. The thought of you thinking he knew about it and just didn’t care was agonizing. He cares, baby! He cares so much you wouldn’t believe.

It makes him giddy. You’ve marked him. What an adorable thing to do.

He was planning to get the ring tattooed onto his finger already, so he wouldn’t lose the real one out in his dangerous life of fighting crime. But even that would be under his gloves, invisible to anyone on the streets of the city. This, however, announced it loud and clear: sorry, but this vigilante is taken.

When he makes it back from the mission that night, he finds you lounging in your shared bedroom. You’re too engrossed in whatever you’re doing on your laptop to notice him creeping in yet, so he gets a moment to just admire you. To his delight, he recognizes the fabric that clings to your body as one of his shirts.

You finally realize he’s there, lookin’ like the cat who got the cream,

“Hey Babe, was it a good night?”

“You want to marry me~” he croons.

“We are literally engaged,” you shake your head in fake-exasperation.

“I found your little gift,” he gives you the clue to why he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“Oh,” your smile gets bigger, “that.. I take it you like it?”

He takes your head in his hands, thumbs gently brushing the tops of your cheeks, “it’s perfect,”

He presses a cute little kiss onto your nose. He laughs as you open your eyes and whine about having expected a real kiss. Well, he’ll just have to give you one of those too, then… or maybe a few…

[jiimeniita]