#Bruce knew he’d only agree if Bruce had already taken them in

[sistertotheknowitall]

Alfred was just getting home from errands.

He enters the kitchen to a child eating cereal on the counter, apparently he didn’t like the perfectly appropriate bar stools at said counter. No one would question the fact that he was raised in the circus. Because if Afried’s eyes are not suddenly failing him then Richard Grayson, son of the flying Grayson, was in Wayne manor. The poor boy had been the center of Gothams attention for the last month. The tragic death of his parents leaving the child orphaned.

And he was in Wayne manor.

Alfred: Master Bruce-

Bruce: He’s already here!

Alfred: *sigh*

Bruce: I’ve already started the adoption process.

Alfred:

Bruce: I TOLD HIM HE LIVES HERE NOW!

Alfred:

Bruce: 🥺

Alfred: *exhausted* I will speak to the lawyers.

17 years later

Alfred:

Bruce:

Damian:

Bruce: Al-

Alfred: No. Just let him go pick a room.

When Duke moves in two years later, Alfred doesn’t even pause. At least Selena gave him warning for the next three.

[zahri-melitor]

I don't think I'll continue this, but I got it out of my head.

Dick and Barbara's Engagement

Dick and Barbara announcing their engagement to Dick’s siblings had been weird.

Cass had looked Barbara straight in the eyes, asked “are you sure?” then punched Dick in the bicep, saying “Don’t mess this up.”

Dick had stood there, rubbing his arm, as Tim had kissed Barbara on the cheek then clapped Dick on the same shoulder. “Are either of you dying?” he asked.

Barbara laughed. “Not that I’m aware!” Dick’s smile had taken on a sickly cast.

By the time Damian had squinted at Barbara and said “…this is acceptable. You make Richard happy,” Dick looked ready to climb the walls.

“Hey man, I don’t know what’s wrong with everyone, but congrats. This has been coming forever,” said Jason.

“Thanks, Jason,” said Dick. He’d perked back up a little at Jason’s words.

*

That evening before patrol, the main discussion (argument) going on as people got ready was over who Dick was going to ask to be Best Man.

Jason’s main point was that, as the eldest, it would naturally be him.

Damian, however, was busily asserting that, as Dick’s Robin, he’d worked with Dick the most and it was simply natural for Dick to ask him.

Tim was ignoring them both.

“Counting yourself out already?” Jason asked, curious.

Tim looked up from the computer he was working on. “I don’t see the point. It’ll be Wally.”

“I think you are mistaken,” said Damian. “Why would Richard choose West over any of his brothers?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m the only person here who’s been to Dick’s previous two weddings.”

“What does that mean?” asked Damian sharply.

“It means I know how these things tend to go.”

“Talking about me?” Dick swung into the Cave and headed for the lockers, Barbara beside him.

“Timothy here is claiming he has extra insight into your wedding choices due to his experience,” said Jason sarcastically.

A look of nostalgia crossed Dick’s face. “Oh no. That’s true. It’s just you and the original Titans now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Tim. They exchanged a rueful glance.

“What were you discussing?” asked Barbara.

“Oh, the others were speculating on who was going to be Best Man. I just said it would be Wally.”

“I haven’t actually decided yet,” said Dick.

“Mmmm.” Tim put his hands behind his lower back and stretched. “Have you mentioned that to the Titans?”

Barbara covered her mouth and laughed. “Oh Tim. Wally was terribly unfair to you last time, wasn’t he?”

Tim shrugged. “He barely knew me at that point.”

Dick looked at Barbara. “Speaking of previous weddings. You’d better warn your father everyone’s going to comment on the minister.”

“Why would they comment on the minister?” asked Jason. “What sort of weddings have you had, Dick?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dick firmly. “It’s unlikely to happen again.”

“You say that yet you’ve been to most of the weddings in this community,” Barbara pointed out. “At least Bruce has to turn up for more than the fight this time.”

Dick made a face and held up one finger. “He came to the last wedding.”

“He came to it because it was at the Manor,” said Barbara.

“He came to it because he’s the one who suggested the plan,” said Tim.

“I really wish both of you knew less of my history,” said Dick.

Tim looked at Barbara. “Are you going to make sure he gives you a wedding night this time?”

Barbara smirked. “Well I wasn’t planning on discussing the details with you, but yes, the plans don’t involve Dick sleeping on the couch.”

Dick’s face was turning red. “Can you not, Tim?”

“Oh I’m sorry, I just remember how chivalrous you were last time.”

Jason was staring between them. “Wait. Go back. Two weddings? I assume one was Kory, but were you the other one, Barb?”

“Oh no, it wasn’t me,” said Barbara. “No, you’ll have to ask Dick for the sordid details.”

“It wasn’t sordid!”

“It kinda was,” said Tim.

”Gotta agree there,” said Barbara. She kissed Dick on the cheek. “I love you. I’ll give you first go at explaining your previous poor decisions before they all come to me later for the real story.”

“Babs!”

[justmoreocs-writing]

I’m doing this for A.J. Kane (who is the oldest OC I created that I can think of in their current iteration) and Toni Winston (my newest OC idea).

A.J. regretted agreeing to the meeting. Regretted letting Dick talk her into the whole thing simply because he was busy. It was a poor excuse, especially because she knew all he was doing was listening into the conversation with Tim through whatever CCTV they could hack. It was little more than an exaggerated training exercise, and the only reason she was there instead of Teddy was so he could be on standby if Tim froze.

She couldn’t deny, however, that the thought of a killer app was something that piqued her curiosity. The girl, Toni Winston, had contacted Billy about the whole thing – a friend of a friend or something, the six degrees of separation that linked all of it together wasn’t something A.J. really cared for. He’d got in touch with her because it sounded right up their street, and he thought they might be able to help. Or, if they couldn’t, they might know somebody who could.

‘This is ridiculous,’ A.J. grumbled, voice loud enough that she knew the others would hear her. A passing dog walker in the park looked at her briefly, confusion furrowing their brow when they didn’t see the obvious phone. But they kept walking, and she guessed they’d made the assumption of Bluetooth rather than anything else.

‘Hi,’ somebody said brightly, pulling A.J.’s attention towards the end of the bench.

A teenager stood there, a smile on her face that reminded A.J. of Dick’s constant positivity. Her caramel hair was pulled into what A.J. could only assume was a bun, with bright colours coming out of it – clip in extensions, she’d guess, and reminiscent of the nineties which this kid couldn’t have seen first-hand.  

‘Hello,’ A.J. greeted, determined not to make the first move in the whole meeting. There was no doubt in her mind that this was Toni; Tim had found a picture of her online and shown it to her. But even he’d found it difficult to find anything; the teenager appeared to live so far off the Internet it was almost refreshing.

‘Are you A.J.?’ There was a polite curiosity behind the question, and for a moment A.J. wondered if Billy had just described her to the girl, or actually shown a picture. ‘Will said –’

‘Yeah, I’m A.J.,’ she said simply, still finding it strange that Billy had people calling him Will. It was how he introduced himself to people now, she knew. But to her, he’d always be Billy.

‘Brilliant,’ Toni said, dropping to sit on the bench. At least she was keeping some distance between them, and hadn’t gone in for a hug or a handshake. Perhaps Billy had warned her against it, or perhaps she was just smart enough not to do that to a perfect stranger. ‘I’m Toni. I mean, I guess Will already told you that.’

A.J. merely nodded, surveying the teenager and wondering how easy this meeting was really going to be, and how long before talk actually turned to the app.

*

‘Right...’ Toni said, a little of her enthusiasm draining with the stoic look that seemed to be firmly in place on A.J.’s face. Will had only told her a little about his childhood friend.

One: She’d be able to help with the whole Red Rose stuff.

Two: If she couldn’t, somebody she knew would. There was no doubt in his mind that this meeting would help in some way with all of that.

Three: A.J. Kane always looks like she doesn’t like you. Mostly, she doesn’t. It wasn’t anything to worry about, or to be concerned about.

He’d even shown her a picture of A.J., one taken at some gala or something. It had been in a glossy magazine and she’d been standing with one of the boys Bruce Wayne looked after. Even though he was grinning, even though Toni could practically feel the joy of the party in the background of the shot, A.J.’s expression hadn’t mirrored it. Yes, she’d been smiling prettily for the camera, but there was a shadow behind her eyes that screamed she hated every minute of it. Toni assumed it had only been used because the Wayne boy looked good.

‘Did Will tell you about the app?’ Toni asked, nervously fiddling with the ripped hem of her skirt.

‘The killer app?’

‘We don’t know it’s a killer,’ Toni defended, even though deep down she knew that was a lie. In a short space of time they’d already learnt of one other death because of it. Whether it was simply social media – which Toni had initially believed – or due to a deeper reason, the jury was still out.

A.J. arched an incredulous eyebrow.

Toni forced herself not to wilt under that look. It was the look Will had warned her about as he tapped A.J.’s number in Toni’s phone. Perhaps A.J. was the right person for the app stuff because she’d face off against it herself and win through being herself.

A shake of the head dismissed the idea from Toni’s thoughts, and she dragged herself back to the conversation at hand.

‘Yeah, the killer app. It seems to, like, try getting people to do things through blackmail. But like, we have no idea how it’s gathering its information or anything like that.’

‘And the police?’ Was that the faintest hint of interest behind A.J.’s voice?

‘Don’t believe any of it,’ Toni said, deflating a little.

‘Of course they don’t,’ murmured A.J., slipping her phone out of her pocket. After a few taps, she showed the phone screen to Toni. ‘This it?’

It felt as though the park was suddenly void of air. Toni’s breathing caught for a moment as she looked at the symbol she’d seen before. She merely nodded.

‘Excellent,’ A.J. said, pressing “Install” without hesitation.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

------------------------------

+ Childhood

[wpdarlingpan]

How would yandere Damian Wayne react to his beloved having a fondness for books? Will he get jealous that she keeps gushing about non existent fictional characters? Lol I have a feeling he will 🤣

I absolutely love this idea, it was fun to write.

Trigger Warning: Abuse

(Not on Damians end but Y/N’s father)

Nothing descriptive and very brief.

~*~

Damian had met his beloved at school after she was the only one who didn’t chase after him. She didn’t even seem to notice he was there. He was determined to change that.

The first day they talked he introduced himself, waiting to see her reaction to his last name but gained nothing more than a polite introduction from herself than she returned back to the book she was reading before he interrupted her. If she hadn’t got immersed back into the book than she would have seen the surprised look adorning the young Wayne’s face.

From there on he was determined to know everything about her. He used the bat computer to find out that she lived with her father in a nice house near his own. Her mother died during child birth and she had no siblings. Damian wished he didn’t have ‘siblings’ even if he never called them that. Well... maybe Grayson. But Todd could go along with Drake.

He decided to go to her house to check in on her and his excuse was to gather intel, but what he saw was not what he was prepared for. Damian saw Y/N’s Father yelling at her as if she had nine something terrible. Damian watched as the man cursed out his young daughter making Damian scowl and tighten his hands into fists. But they suddenly stopped fighting so Damian left as he had school tomorrow and he wanted to talk to you then. If he had stayed a second longer he’d have seen her getting locked into the cupboard under the stairs without dinner.

But luckily for her she had books. She read hunger games, Harry Potter, and many more. Even twilight even though she absolutely despised the ‘Bella’ character. But they all had love. She loved to read about love and the feeling of euphoria it gave people.

“Maybe one day.” She thought to herself.

The next day Damian Wayne talked to her again. He made more progress but it was hard to keep her away from her book.

It continued for weeks and then to months. He had slowly broke down her barrier and she finally stopped ditching him to read a book.

After 3 months of talking and Damian following her around daily to make sure she was safe he finally asked her on a date.

She met him at the park during sundown. When she arrived there was a picnic blanket with a basket on it and a couple of cushions. She saw someone walk up to her from where they were sat by a tree and they gently grabbed her hand and led her to the set up.

“Do you like it?” Damian asked nervously. He knew that this date was what determined his future plans. She was his beloved even if she didn’t exactly know yet. If she didn’t like the date or found out she didn’t like him the same way he loved her than she would learn to with force and time or she could love the date and he will spend every moment of the day with her after he asks her to be his.

She smiled widely, liked it? She loved it! It was exactly like something out of a book. A grand romantic gesture.

He smirked at her smile and he just knew he was already successful in gaining her feelings. He noticed the shiny glint in her eyes.

“I love it Damian. Thank you.” She spoke smiled at him and leaned over to give him a hug making his heart spike with happiness.

They had a wonderful date and it resulted with a 2nd and 3rd one. Then he dropped the question and she couldn’t bring herself to say anything but yes.

Even as she noticed that some of the few friends she had distanced themselves from her after she agreed to be Damians girlfriend after the 3rd date.

Even when some of her romance books began to disappear, which is what really made her sad. Once she told Damian with tears in her eyes that a. Few of her books were missing he gave in and hid them in her room for her to find the next day.

That’s when something happens. Y/N’s father was killed in a police shooting after he had assisted the Joker himself on a robbery. Worst part was Y/N found out over the news.

Damian was very happy with the news of the death fo his beloveds dad. He found out about the abuse after he snuck in to her house the second time and heard a lock click with no Y/N in sight.

Damian told his father about the girl and Damian played his fathers weaknesses against him he told him that she was abused and that she needed help. She needed to be safe. That thing that convinced him finally was that Damian told Bruce that she was the one and Bruce’s eyes widened greatly before he moved into a smirk. Of course his son had found his beloved, Bruce was a Yandere too of course, where else would Damian have got the tendencies from? His mother Talia or his grandfather Ra’s? They both would be caught dead saying the four letter word.

That’s how Y/N was adopted by the Wayne’s.

That’s how she ended up staying in the room next to Damians.

That’s how she ended up being with him 24 hours a day, since he got his classes switched so he was in all of hers but when it was questioned it was for academic reasons.

Y/N was sad though. She had no friends other than Damian. Her father was dead, her mother was dead, she had no family. No matter how bad her father treated her all she could think was that she deserved the pain.

A month after the shooting Damians Yandere side began to progress. She wasn’t allowed out of the Manor without being accompanied by him if she was allowed to leave at all.

She had been taken out of school alongside Damian by Bruce at the request of his son who didn’t like that boys and girls were looking at his beautiful beloved.

He was obsessed with his love.

A few months after living in the manor, meeting everyone, and adjusting to Damians possessiveness and rules she was doing okay. She wouldn’t dare go against Damian after he had guilt tripped her after she said she wanted to be alone for awhile and take a walk. Damian was glad that she was so easily manipulated that she didn’t even attempt to fight his love. He had to protect her form the cruel world he had experienced first hand. Her kindness, innocence, and trusting nature would get her killed in Gotham. But there was nothing to worry about because he was there to protect her. He always would be.

But she grew slightly distant from Damian after she began reading the books in the Wayne Library. There was a whole room stocked shelf by shelf with books.

She had been in there reading a book where the main character was trained with a sword and was a Assassin but he fell in love with his target. That’s where Damian saw her after he had been searching for after he began to getting annoyed after being away from her for so long.

“What are you reading My Beloved?” She had gotten used to the nickname and would slightly blush at every use of it. It was another thing that seemed like it was straight out of a book, he was her knight in shining armor.

“It’s called His Mission, His Love. It’s about this dashing guy who can sword fight and is a very skilled Assassin. He falls in love with the girl he was supposed to assassinate for his group of assassins. But he failed it by falling in love. I haven’t found out what happens yet. He sort of reminds me of Finnick from that other book I told you about, Hunger games remember? Well he wields a trident and it looks super cool and...” she was cut off from Damian snatching the book from her hands and shutting it without even marking her page making her lose her page.

“Hey!” She cried out as he tossed the book across the room. He scowled when she yelled at him which result in him standing directly in front of her as she sat on the couch and he leaned down to her height the grabbed her chin making her face towards him instead of that insufferable book he had tossed across the room.

“You don’t need that book got it? You have me, and you only need me.” He spoke looking into her eyes as his face was only inches apart from her own.

“But...” she began to say. She loved books, it was nice to image the love. But she couldn’t exactly say she didn’t know the feeling for herself now after dating Damian. He had done so much for her to keep her safe and well after he father died.

“I can sword fight, I’m a assassin, I am even more handsome and richer than any character in those terribly pointless books. You don’t need them when you have me.”

She looked at him weirdly and that’s when he realized that in a fit of jealousy - over a book character- he admitted by secret he hadn’t told her yet.

“Assassin? Fighting? What are you taking about Damian.”

He rolled his eyes at her but explained.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m Robin. My fathers batman, Graysons Nightwing, Todd is Red Hood, and Drake is Red Robin.” He watched as her eyes widened making him begin to lose himself in the beautiful eyes he loved so dearly.

“Really?” She said in disbelief but it did make sense. But that’s when she suddenly blushed at a thought and by the fact it took her so long to blush Damian was thinking that she was thinking back to her book character again as her eyes darted away from him coincidentally to where the book was.

“What are you thinking about My Beloved?” he demanded in a cool tone that was laced with jealously. He grip on her chin tighten a little more and his other hand laid on her waist.

She murmured something he couldn’t hear which was very surprising as he was so close to her.

“Repeat what you said but louder. Please” he spoke waiting for her to say she was thinkjnt about the assassin from her book but he wasn’t prepared for what she would say.

“I used to have a crush on Robin, he is my favorite.” She spoke then closed her eyes willing the blush that adorned her cheeks to disappear.

This would be the first time that Damian let out a huge smile and a slight laugh of disbelief.

“I pictured him... or well you as the character from my book because of the similarities.” She spoke still lightly dying from embarrassment which worsened when he scooped her up from the couch and into his arms before kissing her face multiple times while she laughed at the feeling. Then he sat down o the couch with her in his lap, not letting go as she tried to climb out of it.

“Stay here My Beloved. Why don’t I tell you real stories?”

And that was how Damian got jealous... over himself.

And how Y/N found out the identity’s of the Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and most of all Robin.

And it all started because of a book.

[wrenhyperfixates]

All I Need is You

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You do so much for everyone else and so little for yourself that when you almost collapse, Loki finally gets you to agree to let him take care of you. Warnings: the reader skips some meals; a lot of fluff A/N: Its really just Loki taking care of you. But please remember to take care of yourselves too everyone!! Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @frostedficrecs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163 @lokislittlesigyn @wolfish-trickster

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki was watching you even more carefully than normal these days. Yes, you’d caught his eye even on your first day in the Tower back when you were just a new recruit, a SHIELD agent with some kind of sixth sense that let you anticipate things, recently transferred to the Avengers Tower. Even now no one was entirely sure if it was a power or just an uncanny knack you had that made you extremely good at your job. Regardless, the trickster god could see how the ability had shaped you.

You’d only been in the Tower a week when you’d started running errands all over the city, offering things to people before they could even think they needed it themselves, then going to pick it up for them. Loki had declined the offer after hearing all the places you were already going. He’d hoped it was a fluke, that you wouldn’t make it a habit of taking care of everyone. Not that it was inherently bad, he just knew how tiring it could be to please everyone, worried that you would burn out. Of course, you had kept doing it, and his worries turned out to be justified.

“Darling, are you going out again?” Loki asked as you passed his seat in the common room on your way to the elevator. He set his book down, frowning. “Did you not just go yesterday? Unless, of course, this time it is for you. Then by all means, please be on your way.”

“No... It’s just Steve and Bucky were talking about some cereals they used to like and we don’t have any in the Tower so...” you trailed off, shuffling your feet.

“And can they not wait for it until the next scheduled trip to the supermarket?”

“Well, yeah, they said they could. But I don’t mind.”

Loki stood and sighed, walking over to you. Gently, so you didn’t have to comply if you didn’t want to, Loki lifted your chin to look at him. You looked tired. Admirable as it was that you wanted to do things for others, you needed a rest day.

“And tell me, darling, when was the last time you did something for yourself?” He waited a moment for an answer, but was met with silence. “What about that drawing you started two months ago? Have you worked on that more?”

“It wasn’t any good, anyway,” you shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“It was wonderful,” he reassured you. “What about eating, though? Have you eaten today?”

“I... I had a mint.”

“That does not count.” Now he was outright worried. You did this every once in a while, saying you just got so caught up in other things, you forgot to eat. Whatever the reason, it troubled Loki. “You have had some water at least? You know what, do not answer. I am sure I know already. Just wait here a moment.”

You waited by the lift as Loki padded to the kitchen, searching for a water bottle. The problem went beyond just these shopping trips. Sometimes when Tony or Bruce got stuck on one of their projects, you’d pore over books and blueprints for hours, searching for the answer, losing sleep. Then other times, you took it upon yourself to plan events for the team. It was more than a simple, casual invitation. No, it usually involved at least three days of extensive planning. Everyone enjoyed them and was appreciative, needing a break from their day-to-day lives, but it just took up more of your time and brainpower. Pile that onto your own training and missions, it was enough to wear anyone out.

But what he both loved and hated the most was how you’d always be there to talk. Not just for him, but for everyone. And not merely a laid-back chat, either. No, they were practically therapy sessions. Again, just like all the other things you did, that would be all fine and good, except for the fact you never talked about your own issues. You just did so much for everyone else and practically nothing for yourself, even something so basic as remembering to eat, that it broke Loki’s heart a little more every day.

“Here,” he said, handing you the plastic bottle. “But I am coming with you.”

Smiling brightly, you led the way out into the city streets. You chatted as you went about your task, and Loki was yet to take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t until you started the journey back, however, that he began to grow worried. You hadn’t taken even the smallest sip of the water he’d fetched for you, and on this hot day, it was clearly taking its toll. You stumbled a little, suddenly looking more out of it than Loki could stand. He gently gripped your arm to steady you and led you to a bench. Grabbing the water out of your backpack, Loki uncapped it and held the bottle to your lips.

“Drink,” he ordered, but with kindness in his tone.

One of your hands that was gripping the bench a bit too tightly in an attempt to ground your dizzy mind came up to take the bottle from him. Complying, you downed nearly half the bottle in one gulp. It seemed that was a mistake as your empty stomach gargled, rebelling against the sudden intake. Loki rubbed large circles on your back while you scrunched your eyes closed, breathing deeply as you tried to force yourself to feel better.

“Are you alright, darling?” Loki asked when you felt well enough to take another few small sips. You nodded your head, eyes still closed. “Now do you see why it is important to take care of yourself? Will you please get some rest this afternoon?”

“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry, I-”

“That is madness!” Both Loki and you flinched at his sudden increase in volume. He removed his hand from your back, feeling unworthy to make contact with you after snapping like that. You were his friend, and he was yelling at you for something like this? It made him disappointed in himself. He sighed. “Listen, I am sorry. All I mean is I care about you. I do not like to see you like this. It is not healthy, and I believe you know that.”

You opened your eyes, blinking at him. “You-you care about me?”

Loki felt heat flood to his cheeks as he realized that he had, in fact, said that. “I do. So will you please let me take care of you?”

You bit your lip for a minute. “I will,” you sighed, giving in.

Satisfied, Loki coaxed you into accepting a piggyback ride the rest of the way home. You placed your forehead in the crook of his neck, enjoying his cool skin against yours, which was noticeably overheating. He quickly tossed the grocery bags of cereal onto the counter and brought you to your room, your own little pocket of the world that you trusted Loki enough to share with him if even for a moment. Laying you down on your bed, he told you to rest for a minute, lips placing a ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

The god moved to your bathroom, looking for what he needed. After preparing a bubble bath with nice, cool water, Loki left you to sink into it with only the order to relax. While you did, he hurried to prepare you a light meal, something that wouldn’t upset your stomach. When you padded out of the bathroom in the soft pajamas Loki had left for you and saw the meal on a tray on your bedside table, a smile tugged at your lips.

Loki peeled back the silken sheets he’d put on your bed so you could get under them. With a little bit of difficulty—Loki never had gotten a firm grasp on understanding Midgardian technology—he flipped through the channels on your TV until you found something you wanted to watch while you ate.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked once you were done eating, before leaving you to your own devices.

You bit your lip as you thought before ultimately shaking your head no. “I’m good thanks.”

“Please, darling, be honest with me,” he pleaded. “Anything you want. Name it, and it is yours.”

“Will you stay with me?” you blurted out. “No, I’m sorry, that’s ridiculous. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“Darling,” he tsked. “The only thing on my schedule today is taking care of you.”

You smiled as he slid under the sheets next to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap. You twisted your body so you could look at him and tuck a few locks of his raven hair behind his ear. You were living in your own place in time, the two of you finding a safe haven in each other’s arms.

“You know what would make me really happy, Loki?” you began. “If I got to give you a little, thank you. Would that be alright?”

The god hesitated for a moment. “I suppose. Depending on what it is.”

“Can I... Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

“Well, that depends, again.”

“On?”

“On whether or not we can make it a regular occurrence,” Loki replied with a playful grin.

“You know, you are always saying I should do things that make me happy. So yes, yes we absolutely can.”

“In that case,” he said, already leaning in, “what are you waiting for?”

Giggling, you bridged the gap between you. As Loki smiled against your lips, he realized something. No matter how stubborn either of you were when it came to accepting help for yourselves, you’d always have the other to take care of you. And even more importantly, Loki thought, you’d have each other to love.

[ragingbookdragon]

If You Wonder 'Bout The Lightning, I'm Coming Back With The Thunder

Tamaranean!Batmom x Batfamily

Word Count: 1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: For the ask I received! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It had been pure luck that she’d met Bruce that night she’d fallen through the portal with the Psions following too. Koriand’r hadn’t been with her, and she was fearful of what had happened to her, but the main concern had been the man in front of her communicating in a language she didn’t understand.

It’d taken a few moments of them mumbling and gesturing back and forth in their respective languages to effectively communicate that she needed to kiss him to understand him. And as far as first kisses had ever gone, it was amazing. Language upon language flooded her mind and she collapsed from the strain of it all; he’d caught her, asking if she was okay. She could finally understand, and she’d smiled, nodding, Yes. Thank you.

She explained all she could to this “Batman”—Bruce was his name underneath the mask; she was a prisoner of an evil scientific experimenting race, only escaping with her Princess Koriand’r, but they’d gotten split up. I am Princess Koriand’r’s Lady-in-waiting. And it is my duty to be at her side but so much was happening then, and we have been split up. She’d taken his hands, pleading his help and he agreed.

With no place to go, he let her come to his own manor, though she was loathe to intrude. I should not overstay my welcome, Bruce. If I am, please tell me. He’d merely laughed at her, a whole-body laugh. You haven’t even been here ten minutes. Relax R'hyathiss, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Then he’d paused and looked at her. You might want to find a human name to blend in. R’hyathiss might be confusing for some people and could possibly draw attention.

She’d agreed. What should I name myself then? Bruce took a moment to look her over. (Y/N) Athis. The name sounded strange on her tongue, unfamiliar, foreign, but the longer she said it, the more she liked it. (Y/N) Athis. I enjoy it greatly. He’d smiled at her. I’m glad.

Of course, it’d taken a few months to even track down where Koriand’r had landed, another few to find her. When (Y/N) finally did meet Koriand’r again, it’d been an entire year and Bruce and her had already gotten married. She certainly wasn’t expecting to meet Koriand’r as her son’s girlfriend, but Dick loved her, and he’d grown confused when the two Tamaraneans pointed at each other and embraced like long lost sisters.

Oh, Richard, Kori was apart of the modeling company I worked for! She and I have been friends for years! (Y/N) lied easily enough, though she felt bad for doing so and ushered Kori into another room where they could talk it out. The fact that (Y/N) had hid her alien nature from her family save Bruce. Kori, bless the Princess, had understood whole-heartedly, and agreed to play along, though (Y/N) never forgot her place as Koriand’r’s Lady in Waiting. And she was always there when Kori needed her.

***

Dick groaned as Kori crashed into him and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Are you alright?” he asked, and she winced, getting off him.

“I am fine.” Her green eyes found her sister’s. “Komand’r will not stop. She is too angry.”

“Tell me about it,” he grunted, climbing to his feet before dodging another attack. “We need help. Even the Justice League is taking some heavy hits.” His gaze drifted to his father and the JL, watching as they fought viciously against Komand’r’s forces.

“We need (Y/N).”

Dick blinked in confusion, glancing to his brothers who were equally confused. “What? Why would mom be needed?”

Kori didn’t answer, flying to Bruce; she punched a monster coming his way and looked down. “Call her. Now.”

“We’ve got this.” He retorted and she grabbed his arm tightly.

“Call R’hyathiss. Now.”

Bruce stared her down, but she didn’t flinch, and he raised his hand to his ear. “We need you.”

Moments later, a streak of ivory shot across the sky and hit Komand’r with the force of a freight train on steroids. The queen flew back, crashing into the road and when the smoke had cleared, everyone in the street was in pure shock as (Y/N) stood before them, a mighty look upon her face.

Komand’r scoffed. “I knew you would show up soon enough, R’hyathiss. Our ever-punctual Lady-in-waiting.”

(Y/N) stared her down. “I was never your lady in waiting, Komand’r. I am Princess Koriand’r’s.” Her hands shined with a pure white light. “Your betrayal of her lady, scrapped any chance of me caring about you as well.” Bringing her hands up, (Y/N) threatened, “You have once chance to retreat from this battlefield with your army or I will kill you where you stand.”

“You wouldn’t dare, peasant.” Komand’r shot back.

“You have threatened my lady and my family.” (Y/N)’s eyes glowed a sharp ivory. “Koriand’r is the strongest of us, but I am stronger than you.” She let the white aura surround her. “Make your choice, Komand’r. Face me, or retreat from earth. Now.”

The two locked gazes for a solid moment then the queen called for a retreat, rising high into the sky. “I will come back.”

(Y/N) huffed. “And I will wait for the day in which I fulfill my duty of slaying you. For the suffering of my lady, and myself.”

Komand’r disappeared in a cloud of black as did the army and the entire street rejoiced. (Y/N) lowered to the ground and looked to her family that was staring at her like she’d grown three heads. She winced. “Believe me,” she murmured. “I did not tell you because I was afraid of this occurring.”

“You’re a Tamaranean, mom?” Dick asked.

She smiled warmly, nodding her head. “Yes, my sweet boy, I am.” Fingers touched her palm and she looked down at Bruce who was gazing at her, but even she could see the care in his face. “Hello my darling.”

[couldntbedamned]

Til the Veins Start to Shiver

Bruce Banner/Reader

Summary:  You decide to tease Bruce with some provocative photos while he's working.  Bruce decides to tease you right back, and then some.

Warnings/AO3 Tags:  Teasing, swearing, derogatory language, dirty talk, Bruce Banner has a filthy mouth, dom/sub undertones, orgasm delay/denial, oral sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, aftercare

Author’s Note: Written for the fabulous and talented @boop-le-snoot. Inspired by this post here on Tumblr.

Til the Veins Start to Shiver

- - - - 

Bruce was about to lose it. He’d told you not to send him such provocative pictures while he was trying to work.

But you didn’t like to listen. You wanted him to lose it, wanted him to wake up and realize that as delicate looking as you could appear, you weren't breakable.

He wrapped up his work as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself and then stalked towards his floor. His sound-proofed, Hulk-proofed floor.

You were waiting for him, of course.  Smiling as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.  Smiling as if you’d won.

“Was it fun, baby, teasing me like that?”

You giggled. “Yes.”

“I hope it was. Because I like to tease, too. And I’m much, much better at it.” He pulled off his glasses and set them down on the dresser, began to unbutton his shirt.

“Get on the bed.”

“But what about my clothes?” Soft, pretty, lacy things.

“Do you really think I’ll let something like clothes get in my way? I thought you were smarter than that, baby.”

“It’s been a couple of hours, baby. How do you like teasing now?” Bruce asked. His face was wet from your pussy that he’d been eating off and on, forcing you up, up, and up but never letting you crash over. His fingers, also wet, drew messy little shapes all over your thighs and stomach.

“What’s the matter baby? Are you cock-dumb already? I haven’t even split you open on my cock yet.”

“P-please.”

You’d lost count of how many times he denied you, only knew that you needed to come more than you needed your next breath.

“But you like teasing,” Bruce chided, mock hurt all over his face.

“I guess there’s nothing else left then,” he finally said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You grab his arm before he can pull away, a feat of speed you had no idea how you managed. “Ple-ease, B-bruce. Fuck m-me.”

“Oh, you want me to fill that needy little cunt of yours?  Want me to split you open and fuck you like a dumb little doll I can toss and throw around?”

You nodded, desperate. “Y-yeah. Use me.”

“Sweet, dumb little baby, thinking you can tease me like that, that you’ll win. But you know better now, don’t you? Sir is so much smarter than you.”

Bruce pulled you onto him, held you over his monstrously thick cockhead, tinged with green and so much bigger than he’d previously fucked you with.

“You wanted this,” he cooed in your ear before he forced the head inside of your soaking cunt.

It was a stretch. Holy fuck, even with the hours of finger-fucking and oral sex it was a stretch and so, so much. But he didn’t stop, used his strength to pull you down onto him and your thighs trembled and your cunt pulsed and you didn’t know how you were going to survive it.

“I’m almost halfway in,” he told you, raising you up just a bit before forcing you down until you could feel him hitting your cervix… maybe even feel him in your throat. The hair around the root of his cock and balls would have probably tickled if you could have felt anything other than every single pulsing veined inch of him inside you.

“Pretty baby, full of my cock just like a dumb little girl like you should be.” He didn’t thrust but with every slight movement, fire raced through you. It was too much it was too much it was too much!

“And what do you say to Sir, when he’s filled your pretty little cunt with his big cock?”

You whimpered, tears falling.

He jerked his hips up and your cervix shifted and you cried out.

“Well?”

“T-th-ank y-you S-ir.”

“If you can still form words, I’m not doing my job.”

He started to properly fuck you, pulling you up and down, pausing a few times to add some lube in an act of mercy you didn’t think you’d get. The lube helped to a point, but a cock half-way between Bruce and the Hulk was not meant to be taken by mortal cunts like yours.

The battering of your cervix started to… not quite change from pain, but kind of meld with a deep sort of buzzing that signaled an orgasm you didn’t think you could walk away from.

“Baby girl, finally being so good for me, letting me use her just like she needs. Just let go, baby. You’re too pretty to think, just empty that head and I’ll empty into you.”

His fingers started playing with your clit while he used you like a fleshlight and when your orgasm tore through you with a violence you had never felt before, you felt yourself soak his cock and then collapsed bonelessly against him.

He continued to work in and out of you, his cock leaving no micrometer of your cunt unclaimed.

When he finally came, it was with a loud groan-bordering on-roar. The spill of his release was hot in your womb. There was so much and it squelched out with every thrust as he continued to milk his orgasm with your cunt.

“Look at my pretty baby,” he said adoringly as he lifted you off his softening monster of a cock and laid you back on the bed where you laid useless and splayed-legged.

Bruce kissed you, stroked his hands all over you lovingly as if checking to see that you were still there with him.

He didn’t move to clean you up, but you were too tired, too… cock dumb to care. Instead, he slipped something up your hips, around your ass. Then something slid inside you and settled in place. Something else pressed against your clit.

“I hope you enjoyed that orgasm, baby. Because I’m not done teasing you, yet.”

Vibrations started, sent fireworks across your clit, and you realized he’d locked a vibrator in place with the belt he’d pulled onto you. The shaft inside of you began to vibrate, too.

“There’s my pretty, cock-dumb baby. You look so pretty when you come for me, especially when you’re needy and crying.”

He settled back to take in the sight of you. He stroked his soft cock, idly.

"It’s always so fun to see how you plan to keep me from working too hard, baby. I have to admit, this is more satisfying than the equations I was working on. I might just have to keep this up all night."

With a sobbing moan, you came, and feeling no retreat from the vibrators, sobbed some more.

“My pretty baby has some smart ideas sometimes,” Bruce said fondly. “Not as smart as mine, but I love her anyways.”

- - - - -

Much later, as you fought sleep while lying next to Bruce, wearing your coziest pjs and wrapped in your favorite fluffy blanket, after Bruce had reverently and gently cleaned you and held you in the hot tub filled with soaking salts and oils and had hand-fed you your favorite snacks and held water for you to sip all while telling you how brilliant and wonderful and precious you were, how much he loved you and your intelligence, you had to agree to disagree to a point.

Bruce Banner may have earned seven Ph.D.’s, but you had gotten want you wanted, after all.

[novaviis]

sick!dick au. Bruce's POV. read in order here.

For most everyone else, it starts at the Gala.

For Bruce, it starts in a grey little office, with a stack of papers and a glitter pen.

Dick will confess after the fact to the fainting spell in the apartment he shares with Wally, and the months of progressively worse migraines, including an incident on patrol with Jason – and Bruce is none-too-pleased with that information being kept silent, but he picks his battles and this isn’t one of them. Still, looking back nearly everyone will unanimously agree that the night it really “began” was the Gala.

For Bruce, it begins when the social worker hands him a creased manila envelope. Inside is a birth certificate, a social security number, and an immunization record. Bruce looks through the contents of the envelope. Is this really it? Yes, he’s never exactly done this before, but he feels like there should be more. Guardianship of a child shouldn’t be reduced to three pieces of flimsy paper in an envelope. There’s a coffee stain on the corner. The social worker doesn’t really know what to say to that; this is just the way it is. She slides the rest of the paperwork across the table. Everything’s already been looked over by his lawyers, all he needs to do is sign. She pats her pockets, muttering to herself before bringing out a red glitter pen and sheepishly offering it to him.

Bruce is in his twenties. He’s impulsive with his compassion and he just witnessed another little boy watching his parents die. He knows he can give this boy what he needs. Or he’s going to try. But between the drive to bring this boy’s family justice and the need to heal a part of himself in the process, he’s somehow skipped over just how huge this is. He’s thought about it, of course, but always with the under current of doing whatever it takes to make it work. He was going to give the boy a home, give him the closure that Bruce never got, and maybe he’d save him from turning out like… well, like Bruce. Only now he’s staring down at Guardianship written in big block letters across the top of the stack, and it’s sinking in now that he’s not just taking the boy in. He’s going to be his family. And it doesn’t change a thing, his resolve doesn’t waver, because he knows he can give him a good life, but it’s that one word. Family. His family is starting out with a coffee stain, a stack of papers, and a glitter pen.

He signs the papers. Dick is already waiting outside with Alfred, who’s taken him to the small cafeteria down the hall. The boy hasn’t spoken much, in the days Bruce has taken to get to know him. Bruce had asked Alfred if he was like that – after. And Alfred had looked at him sympathetically, answered carefully. Yes, he was, in a sense. Bruce had been quiet. Shellshocked. Traumatized. But Bruce needs to remember that he had him, at least one steady presence in his life. Dick has no one. It’s going to take time.

It shouldn’t be so easy, Bruce find himself thinking over and over as they finish up. He tucks everything away into his briefcase, bears with the social worker smiling and shaking his hand and thanking him for doing such a good deed as if this is a charity stunt for publicity and she doesn’t seem to care either way. He asks again, just before he closes his briefcase, if she’s sure that there’s nothing else he needs. Report cards, keepsakes, family medical history, he doesn’t know. She shakes her head, all pleasant smiles. No, that’s all he came with – as if he’s a shelter dog. Bruce latches his suitcase shut.

Back then, it was just a passing thought. He doesn’t spare it another over the years, because he doesn’t need to. Time went on, Dick becomes an inseparable part of his life. Bruce will always silently maintain that Dick was the one to save him in the end. He’s not a perfect guardian, not a perfect father, and he makes more mistakes than he can count. They argue, they have fallings out, and still they always work through it – because they’re family.

And the issue of the family medical history does not resurface until that champagne gold night. Until he catches Selena watching him from across the ballroom, smiling behind the rim of her wine glass and cocking her head to tease him. Until, he’s distracted between secretively searching the crowds for her and forcing himself to smile and laugh with Gotham’s elite, so he doesn’t notice the commotion rising up on the other side of the room. Until his youngest son comes racing toward him through the crowd looking more scared and shaken than Bruce has ever seen him. Until he breaks through the ring of bystanders and sees Dick passed out on the floor, Wally kneeling over him beside himself with panic. Until the ambulance and the fury of the waiting room (making a mental not to raise absolute hell with the Hospital’s board of directors) and the doctor pulling him to a side room, a little grey office, to ask the dreaded question. All at once, it comes back to that moment, and Bruce sighs, scrubs his palm over his tired eyes. No, he doesn’t have Dick’s family medical history. It doesn’t exist. Realistically, it isn’t Bruce’s fault, but that has never stopped him from shouldering blame.

Selena reaches out in the following days it ask in on how Dick’s doing. Bruce is cordial, tells her that her concern is appreciated but Dick seems to be doing fine. And on the other side of the phone, he can hear her moving around her penthouse, maybe standing at the window – she’s glad to hear it. Let her know if he needs anything, if she can do anything to help. It’s early days then, and none of them know just how bad it’s going to get.

It’s a slow progression at first, and then it’s not. It’s months between seizures, a steady increase in migraines – but life goes on. It’s not as if Bruce is hovering every Dick at every second. He’s a grown man now, with a career and a home and a partner. Bruce supports him in any way he can, until it gets to the point that he has to make the hard call. The argument he has with Dick that night, in the study of Wayne Manor, is something he’ll never wash from his memory. He’s used to making the tough decisions. He’ll be the asshole if he has to, he can handle Dick’s anger, but he’s not going to allow him to take this much risk into the field. Benching Nightwing until they have a handle on this is a necessary call, but Dick is stubborn (who on earth did he learn that from), and unwilling to step down so easily. And as the argument reaches its fever pitch, Bruce pacing and ranting, listing off his rational, he hears Dick call his name in a wavering voice and it cuts through the background noise. Dick, the colour drained from his face, eyes unfocused, conceding that he’s about to lose this argument, will haunt him in the same way as the worst things he’s seen in the life he’s chosen. That’s the moment he knows that this isn’t just going to pass, the moment he bolts to catch Dick before he can topple forward and hit his head. This isn’t something they can wait out. He’ll never regret making the call, but he will always regret the way he put the pressure on Dick, as if he’d just made things worse.

The thing is, this lasts years. It becomes a part of all their lives – because it’s Dick. It isn’t all consuming, it doesn’t eat away at their thoughts every minute of the day, but it’s a resurfacing concern that’s rarely spoken about aloud. And Bruce sees how this changes his family. No one can say that the Wayne clan is the most well adjusted and healthy family, but Bruce does his best. He realises and appreciates now more than ever just how much work Dick put into keeping them all functioning. Keeping them together. He never thought he’d taken it for granted until then. It shouldn’t have taken this to bring the family closer together, but it does, and as much as Bruce hates that, he’s not going to fight it.

Time goes on. Still. It’s a slow progression at first, and then it’s not. Bruce is in a meeting with his chief executive officers when his secretary buzzes in over the speaker saying there’s a call for him on the line. He thanks her for letting him know and tells her to take a message. She says the young man is telling her it’s an emergency. One of the CEOs is about to launch into a presentation and Bruce doesn’t spare him a second thought. Picks up the phone, pushes away from the board table, and paces to the window. Wally’s voice comes through saying his name, shaken and urgent, rambling out sentences too fast for Bruce to hear.

Wally. Slow down. What happened?

He stopped breathing. Fuck, Bruce, he called me at work – sounded like a seizure so I ran home, but he – it didn’t stop, he wasn’t breathing.

That first night, after Bruce has sent his reluctant children home with Alfred, it’s just him and Wally left with Dick. The end of visiting hours is fast approaching. Bruce steps out to let Wally have his time with Dick, allows him some privacy. He eventually makes his way up to the terrace balcony on the upper floors, a green space with massive glass walls and an open ceiling. Fresh air for the first time in hours does wonders.

Selena is there. She approaches him from the other side of a low hedge, bundled up in a cashmere sweater and scarf – ones he bought her ages ago. When he asks how she knew, she smiles. She has her ways. Tim called her, didn’t he. Yeah, he did. They stand in silence for a while, staring out at the mosaic of lights against the persistent dark of Gotham, before she puts a hand on his arm. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, Bruce, she says, and the coy smile fades into sincerity. Come to me when you need to.

Three days after Dick is admitted to the ICU, Bruce calls Damian into the study. It’s late, they just got home from visiting an hour ago. They’ve been arguing a lot lately, before Dick went downhill. Mostly regular thirteen-year-old boy versus father arguing, but a few too many frustrated shouting matches in the Cave. Bruce can’t help but wonder if it’s in part because Dick hasn’t been there to act as a mediator. Still, the past few days have been quiet, if not tense. Damian complies when Bruce calls him down. He’s wearing a sweater he stole from Dick months ago, the bulk of it swallowing his smaller frame like a blanket. He has the sleeves rolled up, his hands in the front pocket, when he pauses in the doorway. Bruce gestures for him to sit across from him at the desk. He can see the way Damian is bracing himself for a lecture, wondering whatever it is he did wrong this time, as he takes his seat. Bruce, in his chair on the other side, watches him for a moment before deciding this won’t do. He stands, and pulls his chair next to Damian’s and pulls a file over from the other side of the desk.

Wayne Men are at a higher risk of Prostate Cancer as they get older. I get tested every few years. He tells him. My Mother’s side of the family, the Kanes, have a history of Crohn’s Disease. It’s prevalent in people of Ashkenazi Jewish decent. I’ve never had it, or had symptoms, so it’s unlikely that I passed it on to you, but not impossible. And when Damian stares back at him, he leans forward, presses his hand to his son’s shoulder. I want you to know these things, Damian. It’s important that you know your history.

And with any other child, it may have not been a good idea to have this conversation right then. Any other child may have been scared. But this is his son, and Damian is as frank and pragmatic about these things as he is, and Bruce knows that he will appreciate the honesty, knows that those questions have likely been rattling around in Damian’s head for a while now. They spend another hour that night talking about their family, beyond just medical history, and Bruce answers any questions Damian has.

Dick gets worse. Wally leaves to find answers. Bruce is doing everything he can; medical bills are nothing to him, he checks in on his children, calls in favours from the league to keep watch of Gotham when he’s needed at the hospital. It’s the most he’s ever relied on others in his entire life.

It’s just him in Dick’s room one night. He’s at the window when he hears Dick rasping his name. It’s been rare lately that he’s been coherent enough to really speak without being prompted, so he has Bruce’s full attention immediately. He crosses over to the bed, braces a hand over Dick’s. And Dick doesn’t say anything for a long while. His eyes are half closed. Bruce is close to assuming he’s fallen asleep, when Dick’s unsteady hand slides out from under his, and rests on top with a barely there squeeze. Dick is staring up at him. His voice his so quiet it’s almost drowned out by the monitors, but Bruce hears it.

Take care of Wally.

Bruce doesn’t waste time on don’t talk like that sentiments. He doesn’t tell Dick that he won’t need to, that he’ll be fine, because Bruce does not make promises he knows he cannot keep. He nods. He will. Dick doesn’t need to ask him to take care of the family, that much is an unspoken understanding, but if this is a piece of mind he can give Dick, it’s without hesitation.

He ends up at Selena’s door after visiting hours. She buzzes him in, and when she opens the penthouse door neither of them say a word. She guides him over to the couch, pours two glasses of good wine, and when she returns, he’s already got his face in his hand – not sobbing, not breaking down, just… exhausted. She isn’t sure Bruce knows how to break down anymore. In the end, she just sits with him. Rubs his back, tentatively at first, not sure if he’ll let her. Bruce not only does, but he shudders under her hand, allows himself to breathe with her, and it’s enough to let the pressure ease and the ache to come in. He allows himself feel to it.

Because that’s his son. That’s his first son. And he’s failed him.

Years from then, when this is all in the past, he’ll let it slip. It’s over a late night coffee with Dick in the Cave as they wrap up a case, near to the anniversary of the Dick’s surgery. Maybe it’s the string of late nights and no sleep wrecking his inhibition, maybe it’s something he needs to get off his chest. But Dick stares at him, goes quiet, sets down his coffee mug.

You did everything for me, Bruce. He says. You never failed me.

And, someday, Bruce will believe it.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 11

Chapter 1     Chapter 10

“What do you mean he knew?” Dick asked, taking a seat in the chair across from Bruce.  He looked around for Alfred to make sure he wasn’t going to lecture them for talking about bat business in the manor when Bruce’s newest daughter could walk in on them at any moment.

Dick scrunched his face in thought.  That wasn’t right was it?  She wasn’t his newest daughter.  She was his oldest child.  Well, not oldest.  He was the oldest.  But she was the one he had the longest.  He had her before he took in Dick.  He’d given her up and then taken Dick in soon after and honestly Dick wasn’t sure how to reconcile that.  He was eternally grateful that Bruce had taken him in and helped him, dealt with his rebellions and helped him focus his anger.  But if he’d had such patience for him, why not his own daughter?

Dick was forced off of his thought process by Bruce, bringing them back to the topic at hand.  “He knew we were going there somehow.  He just thought it was earlier than we had planned.”  Bruce sighed and ran his hands through his hair.  “He was wandering through the museum looking for us, or more specifically, her.”

Tim stared at the coffee table in front of him trying to work out how the Penguin could have known.  “Did you talk about it?  Somewhere that could have been bugged?”

Bruce shook his head.  “I didn’t really have time to.  It was all last minute.  But I don’t know about Marinette.”

“When did you plan it? Was it in your schedule?” Tim pressed.  “Because if there is a leak at WE with high enough permissions to have access to your calendar, that is a big problem.”  His eyes widened immediately.  “Not that a rogue going after Marinette isn’t!  It’s just another problem.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything about it.  “Dinner…” he sighed deeply in realization.   “The waitress. Right.  We’ll have to talk to her tomorrow.”

“You think she sold information?” Duke asked.

“Or she told someone who sold it, or someone overheard her gossiping, or…” Damian listed off in a condescending tone.  

“Are you going to warn Marinette?” Duke interrupted, his brow furrowing in concern.  They should have anticipated this.  They’d taken precautions for him after the official announcement of his new status, but they hadn’t moved to protect her yet.

Bruce nodded.  “I’ll talk to her about expectations of being my daughter.  So far, this is fairly expected.  I don’t want to send her into a panic, but she should know the dangers she’s going to have to face now.”  He sighed guiltily and pinched the bridge of his nose.  This was exactly what he had been trying to protect her from all those years ago.  And the idea that one of the rogues might have taken his child to get back at him, a baby who had no chance of protecting herself, still haunted him.

Cass frowned at him.  “Not safe,” she chastised.

“I’m not saying we don’t protect her too.  I think it would be a good idea to make sure we can keep an eye on her and be able to track her so we know if she’s been taken or involved in a rogue attack.  I’ll talk to her about safety precautions, so she isn’t announcing plans where others can hear her.  She’s planning on moving into the apartment with her friends soon, so that should help at night.”

“Good,” Dick agreed.  “From what Jason said about the other day and the concierge just letting it happen, the sooner we get her out of that hotel the better.”

“What do we know about her ability to defend herself?” Tim asked.

“According to her mother, none.  She’s never had training.  Never had to defend herself,” Bruce sighed.  That was exactly the upbringing he wanted for her, to never need to defend herself.  But now, that was biting them in the ass.  Because now, she might need to be able to defend herself and couldn’t.

Damian scoffed.  “She’s weak and defenseless, is what you mean.  We’re going to have to spend our time and our energy protecting her because she isn’t capable of it.”

“She’s innocent,” Bruce corrected.  “That was the entire point of sending her away, so she could be.  And that’s supposed to be our entire job, protecting the innocent.  She is no exception.”  They all froze when the door to the sitting room cracked open.

<><><><><> 

Marinette took a calming breath.  Driving up to the manor had been impressive, entering the manor had been even more so.  The entire place was dripping with history and prestige.  All the touches looked highest class, highest quality, all well thought out and coordinated over years of design, speaking of bespoke everything. It was about as far from what Marinette grew up in as there could be.  It was somber and distant.  Sterile even in its lavish details.

And yet, it wasn’t the imposing design that had her heart racing.  She could hear voices echoing through the empty halls.  She couldn’t make out anything being said, only the variations in baritones and tenor pitches to them.

“Relax, Pixie.  They’re going to love you.  You could tell them to fuck off,” he took a quick look around when he said it before relaxing back into his motivational speech.  “And you’d still come out as someone else’s favorite too.  There’s nobody in there you need to impress.”  He patted her on the back and squeezed her shoulder.  “Just maybe stay away from Damian.  He’s a spiteful little shit.  Better than he was when he came but… just to be safe…”

He took off his jacket and motioned to hers.  “Also,” he continued as he took her jacket, “don’t say the word ‘pineapple’.”

Marinette laughed and shoved him.  “Stop messing with me.  I’m nervous enough already.”  Jason looked at her suddenly very serious.  Marinette faltered for a second before scoffing.  “Shut up.”

“I’m telling you, just don’t say it.”

She rolled her eyes.  This had to be one of the most ridiculous conversations ever.  “Okay, first, I still don’t believe you. Second, why would I?”

Jason shook his head and backed away.  “I don’t know.  It always manages to come up though.”  He pointed at her as he backed out of the room.  “Fight the temptation.  I’m going to hang these up.  They’re in that room.”  He motioned vaguely toward a room down the hall, which considering how many rooms were down the hall wasn’t actually all that helpful.  “Go ahead, they’re expecting us.”

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that,” she called after him.

“Only kind of?  You might like me more than the rest,” he called back with a laugh.

Marinette shook her head and started down the hallway. It couldn’t be that hard to find, right. There had to be signs.  “What do you think, Tikki?” she whispered almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

“Jason’s right,” she assured Marinette just as quietly. “They’ll love you.  Just be yourself.  It’s the next door on the left.”

Marinette grinned at her and noted the light under the door.  Definitely the right door.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  “Wish me luck.”  She took another breath and bolstered herself for the next few hours.  Hopefully it would go amazingly, but even if it didn’t, she could withstand a few hours of awkward, uncomfortable conversation and looks. She survived all the Graham de Vanily parties Adrien dragged her to, she could survive this.  She nodded to herself, silently cursed Jason for abandoning her, and pushed open the door.

The room immediately quieted as Marinette walked in. Everyone turned to her as a unit, tight anxious smiles on their lips.  Marinette froze and tried to smile politely at them, but she was pretty sure it looked more frightened than polite.  The people in the room continued to stare at her almost analytically.  The intensity of the stares was unnerving and unsettling. She almost backed out of the room until she felt someone step up next to her and sling their arm over her shoulder. She looked up hesitantly but breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw Jason next to her.

“Stop being weird.  You’re creeping her out,” Jason barked at them.

Jason’s order seemed to break them out of their trance. Everyone moved at once, jumping up to welcome her or moving rapidly towards her to shake her hand, except for the youngest who frowned and crossed his arms and a woman, who must be Cass, Marinette reasoned, who just waved from her spot next to Bruce.  Marinette tensed up but didn’t back away, instead bracing herself for the onslaught.  The noise became almost overwhelming as multiple people were speaking at once and Jason shouted back, pulling Marinette away from them.

“Enough!” Bruce yelled, instantly silencing everyone in the room.  He turned to Marinette with a warm smile.  “Sorry about that.  I was hoping for a more welcoming introduction, but with this family…” he motioned to the rest of the room with a defeated sigh.  

He crossed the room to her quickly but froze when he got to her, uncertain what form of physical welcome was allowed.  A handshake seemed too formal and distant, but a hug seemed too personal for only their second meeting in twenty years, well, technically fourth, but the first two didn’t exactly count.  On the other hand, last time they did la bise, so that was more appropriate, right?  He decided to leave it to Marinette, but she didn’t seem any more certain than he did, judging by her awkward wave and quick looks to his hand and cheek.

He smiled in response.  They’d figure it out eventually, hopefully.  For now, he just needed to make sure she felt welcome.  He opened his mouth to welcome her to the manor and start introductions but got cut off by a very excited Dick.

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize how much she looks like your mother until now.”  Dick moved right in front of Marinette examining every centimeter of her face intensely.  “Her eyes look just like hers.  They could be twins.  Do you have any pictures of her when she was a baby so we can compare?”

Marinette’s face went blank as she stared back at Dick. She quirked her head to the side trying to figure out how to respond to that, or if she was even supposed to, considering despite the fact that his face was only a handful of centimeters from hers, he wasn’t talking to her.  Her quandary was answered when Jason shoved Dick away harshly.  “She has a name, Dickweed,” Jason growled.  “And she’s right the fuck in front of you, have some respect.”

“Language Master Jason,” Alfred admonished coming into the room.  “But he is correct, Master Dick.”

“Right,” Dick said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Sorry, Marinette.  That was rude.  Hi, I’m Dick.”  He held his hand out for Marinette.

Marinette shook it with a smile.  “It’s okay. I’ve always wondered where I got my blue eyes from.”  She chuckled a little nervously and shrugged.  “Mystery solved, I guess.”

Bruce laid a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention back to him.  “I can show you pictures later, if you’d like to see, or whenever you’re ready.”  He pulled his hand away and shoved it into his pocket awkwardly. “Or, at some point I, or somebody else can give you a tour of the manor and I’m sure you’ll see lots of pictures of,” he paused only a fraction of a second, uncertain how she would take the term, “your grandparents.”

Marinette swallowed almost imperceptibly, but covered with a smile. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

The pause she took to respond would be missed by most people but a room full of people trained to detect tells like that didn’t miss it.  Duke jumped up with a big smile.  “Hi,” he shot out his hand to shake hers, “I’m Duke.  It’s nice to meet you.”

Marinette smiled back at him and shook his hand.  “Hi.  It’s nice to meet you.  Sorry for ruining your introduction gala.”

Duke scoffed.  “Are you kidding me?  I hate attention.  Thank you for taking the attention off of me.”  He suddenly cringed realizing what he was saying.  “I mean… That’s not what I meant.  Sorry it had to land solely on you.  Want me to do something stupid to get the attention back?”

Marinette laughed at his attempt to cover.  For once it wasn’t her saying the wrong thing with the best intention.  “No, please don’t and don’t worry,” she waved him off with a smile, “I knew what you meant.  Not your fault.  Honestly, not as bad as it could have been.  I’ve dealt with worse.”

“You have?” Jason asked, his face scrunching in concern.

Marinette shrugged at him and turned back to Duke.  “Glad I was at least able to help a bit.”

Duke grinned at her.  “You did. You’re already more helpful than most of them,” he motioned toward the rest of the family.  “Definite contender for new favorite sibling.”  Dick let out an exaggeratedly loud offended scoff while Cass shrugged and bobbed her head in agreement.  Tim furrowed his brow and exclaimed, “Hey!”  But the corner of his lips quirking up betrayed his act.

Jason glowered at Duke and stepped between them.  “Back off!  I already claimed her.”  He turned back to Marinette.  “Now what is this about you’ve dealt with worse?  Is there someone I need to have a talk with?”

“I’m sorry for being rude,” Bruce interrupted before the conversation went down a darker path than he was hoping for this meeting.  “Welcome to the manor, Marinette.  Thank you for coming.  You’ve already met Jason, Dick, and Duke.  That is Tim,” he motioned to the teen on the couch who waved politely but awkwardly.  His eyes only flicked to hers a few times and only for a fraction of a second before flicking away, a pained look shooting through them.  

“Next to him is Damian.”  He rolled his eyes and looked away, but didn’t attack like both Roy and Jason warned her he might, so she was taking it as a win.  “Cass is there,” he motioned toward Cass, who waved again, just as kindly as the first time.  “And this is Alfred.”

Alfred stepped forward and bowed slightly to Marinette.  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Marinette.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him as she scrutinized his face.  “You look familiar.”

Alfred’s eyes sparkled at her recognition.  He started to say something, but whatever it was got lost when Dick interrupted.  “Wait!” He jumped in Alfred’s face.  “Is this why you took all your vacations in Paris?” he exclaimed.  His eyes widening in realization.

“It is indeed, Master Dick,” Alfred nodded.

“That’s why you look familiar!” Marinette exclaimed.  “You were a repeat customer in the patisserie.”

“I am very happy to see you back in the manor, Miss Marinette,” Alfred gave her a curt nod as a smile played on the corners of his lips.

Marinette tensed at the reminder that she may have at some point have been in the manor.  It ripped open a Pandora’s Box of questions, each one more unsettling than the last. Had she been in the manor before? Had she interacted with her f… M. Wayne when she was a baby?  Did he hold her?  Did he kiss her head?  Did he hold her for a few minutes and hand her back like she did to Jamil’s baby, feeling no more connection than she had to Remi?  Did he cuddle her to his chest and hold her close only to hand her back and walk away?  Did he feel nothing when he held her?  Did his chest feel less tight when she was no longer near him?  Did he heave a sigh of relief when he handed her back?

No. She had to stop focusing on those questions.  That was the past.  Nothing would be gained from asking those questions tonight.  He wasn’t ready to give an answer and she wasn’t ready to receive it.  He’d apologized and she’d accepted.  She would just… let the questions plague her and slowly drive her into insanity.  That was the plan.  She quickly plastered on a smile and nodded back at Alfred.  “It is good to see you again, M. Pennyworth.”

“Please, call me Alfred,” he said, his amused smile turning sympathetic seeing the change in her demeanor.  “All the children do.”

Marinette smiled back, her smile more strained than before.  Was she one of the children?  She guessed technically she was.  “Only if you call me Marinette.”

“Of course, Miss Marinette,” Alfred nodded.

Marinette raised an eyebrow but nodded back.  She understood deeply ingrained British upper class formality.  She hadn’t survived parties with Felix and Adrien for nothing.  But if he wanted to embrace the detached formality, so would she.  “Thank you, M. Pennyworth.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow but said nothing.  “Maybe we could plan for a tour of the manor and a look through photo albums at a later time.  For now, dinner is ready.”

At Alfred’s pronouncement, everyone started moving out of the room. Marinette watched them all making their way toward what must be the dining room, but didn’t move herself.  It still felt awkward to walk around the manor… again, apparently.  She didn’t move until Jason threw his arm over her shoulder and gently prodded her forward.  She gave him a small smile and threw her arm around his waist.  

She looked past him to give Tim who had also hung back a bit, a small smile. He gave her a guilty smile back and a little wave.  Marinette gave him a quizzical look, trying to figure out what he had to feel guilty about. But it looked like he didn’t want to get too close with Jason at her side.  And as much as she wanted to ask what Tim was thinking about, she was beyond grateful that Jason had taken up post at her side.  She didn’t know if she would have been able to make it through this without him.  She squeezed his waist and looked up at him with a smile.  He looked down with a questioning look that quickly turned into a smile and he squeezed back.

Chapter 12

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[brucie-bruce-waynee]

The Actor and the Billionaire Part 4

(A/N: Finals week has finished! Yesterday my entire life was packed into eight boxes and either shipped back to my parents house or into storage.)

Word count: 2.6k~

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?”

The marketing team branch heads stood at the front of the conference room you found yourself in. It reminded you of when you had to sign your contract and NDA to start this little farce in the first place.

“We need to you to start staying over. Bruce has a couple rooms, and we’ve already cleared it with him. So, you just need to make a convincing appearance outside the building with a little suitcase or something.”

Jamie, sitting beside you, began asking questions at a rapid-fire pace. You felt a twinge behind your eyes and messaged your temples.

“Jamie, it’s fine. I can do it. This is what we agreed to.”

Jamie made a discontented noise in the back of their throat.

“This has been going on for three months now. Don’t you think this is enough?”

“The contract Mx. Grant signed gave us at least six months.”

Well, you must have missed that. An oversight entirely on the fault of yourself.

“No need to make a fuss, then. We’ll be sleeping in separate rooms. This will make us official in the eyes of the public,” you soothed.

Jamie looked at you, surprised. In your career, you’d never taken risks like this. Avoiding scandal was essential to you. Now you were putting up a falsehood to the entire world that would ruin your reputation if anyone found out.

You packed a bag and went through the routine. The press was suffocating for the five seconds you had to be outside. Alfred helped you carry in Cinnamon’s dog stuff.

Settling into the same room you’d prepared for the gala for all that time ago, you sighed. Cinnamon was sniffing every corner for dangers. Bruce hadn’t come out to see you once. He didn’t reply to any texts you sent him. Nothing was getting through to him. You didn’t want to force the issue as you weren’t his partner. Friday night and the entirety of Saturday were spent exploring the penthouse.

The architecture was bonkers. Pointed arches and ribbed vaults were everywhere. It made more sense now that you knew about his extracurriculars. You almost expected to see full-on flying buttresses, but this was still an apartment, and real ones would be a bitch to construct and find a place to put them.

Walking into the dining room, Cinnamon at your heels, you stroked the electric guitar strings on the stand by the staircase. Alfred was setting out food for himself and you. There wasn’t a third place setting, and your heart sank. Sitting down at your spot felt weird. Cinnamon curled onto your feet. Alfred gave you a smile and gestured for you to begin eating, telling you that Bruce wouldn’t show up to eat with you.

“Alfred, do you know about Bruce’s night activities?” You took a bite of the pasta. Alfred was a good butler, an incredible cook, and terrific company.

“Yes, I do. If I’m being fair, Mx. Grant, I expected you to decipher the clues,” Alfred replied with a slight grimace. “Master Bruce isn’t the best at hiding as much as he thinks he is.”

“Well, it was only after I literally kissed the mouth I’d been dreaming of for weeks,” you groaned, shoveling pasta into your mouth.

You felt embarrassment flash through you. Alfred’s jaw clenches, and you’re unsure where this anger came from. He’d never seemed overly bothered by anything. Maybe it came with the job, but he was terrible at hiding it now.

“He didn’t tell me that. All he told me was that he saved you from some thugs when you were running at four am,” Alfred said.

“Yeah, not my smartest move, I know.”

Alfred waved you off.

“After we finish, you’ll bring him his dinner. You deserve to know how he feels in return,” Alfred said, no room for argument in his voice.

With the way Alfred phrased it, you had hope. It’s just a tiny flicker, but it’s there, nonetheless. Armed with a plate of good food, you followed Alfred down through the building. As he guided you, he talked about how there was a tunnel beneath the building that led to the old Wayne Manor. This was a way to travel to and from work without going on public transport.

“I suppose this is one of the differences between old money and new money, right?”

Alfred nodded and gestured to a heavy-looking door down a set of stairs. The lights flickered, almost strobe-like. You make your way down slowly.

“Don’t knock, he won’t hear you. Just head on in. He’ll be at his desk.”

Steeling yourself, you head in.

The cave is dark, damp, and echoing. A literal flock of bats swirls in the air above you. Swallowing a distressed noise, you made your way through high-tech equipment and the coolest looking car you’ve ever seen. As you adjust to the dark, you see the desk Alfred mentioned.

At first, you don’t see Bruce. He just melts into the shadows so easily with his all-black wardrobe. Bruce shifts, and you cry out. He jumps and whips around to you. You’re not too close, but you’re close enough to see his eyes are bloodshot, lids covered in smeared black paint.

“Alfred sent me down with dinner. Can I sit with you?”

Bruce looked at you, and you could see his eyes weren’t all there. They were glassy. He must’ve been so immersed in his… whatever he was doing. You can’t even imagine how what he was doing on the streets was affecting him. He turned slowly and pulled a stool from under his desk with the toe of his boot.

You placed the plate on an empty spot on his desk and sat. He took the fork from you and played with his pasta.

“Most people start by twirling it around the fork,” you said quietly. Bruce hummed and started eating. It had no mushrooms, no ground meat. There were only noodles and sauce on the plate with a small sprinkling of parmesan cheese on top. He was like a kid. Somehow, this only endeared him to you more.

“I didn’t intend to, uh, tell you all those things. I’m sorry if it makes this arrangement awkward. I especially didn’t mean to figure out your identity. You should know, there’s no risk of me telling anyone. But I just want to apologize for invading your privacy and telling you information you may not have wanted to hear,” you said, fiddling with your right ring finger ring.

Bruce slurped his noodles, muttering a small apology. As you passed him a napkin, he held your wrist with his fingers. There was dirt and blood on his hands. What had he been doing all night? Right. Batman activities.

“I trust you won’t tell. You’re not that kind of person. Besides, there wouldn’t be anything to gain from it. Batman’s reputation is stained, ruined,” Bruce says quietly, looking at his half-eaten food.

“It’s getting better. You know that. The people believe in you. Both as Bruce and Batman. The work you’re doing for the city, helping to build it up,” you murmured.

Bruce looks at you, and you can perfectly imagine a little rain cloud above his head. He opens his mouth like he wants to speak, then returns to his food. Your hand makes its way to his, and you rest it there, comforting him. Bruce finishes his meal in silence. He hooks the rung of the stool you’re on with his foot and drags you closer. The motion makes you grip him tightly.

“I’m sorry I kissed you with the cowl on. It was… I took advantage of you. You had been attacked. It was the fear of losing you,” Bruce says, voice quivering.

“If I felt unsafe, I would have pulled away,” you said. “It wasn’t my smartest idea to accept a kiss from a man I didn’t know. Just like how it wasn’t smart to go out like that. If it’s any consolation, I was thinking about how pretty your eyes are.”

Bruce had seemed incapable of being any other color than deathly pale, but now he was bright red. The color traveled through his cheeks and down his neck to the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Sorry. I’ll stop flirting.”

Trying to retract your arm, you find that you can’t. Bruce covered your hand with his, looking at you pensively.

“Don’t.”

Now it’s your turn to be flustered. Bruce turns and cups your jaw in his hands. Bringing you closer to him, you can smell rain in his hair. He kisses you the same soft, tender way he had when he was Gotham’s protector. Then he moved away, and you wanted more.

“So,” you said, kicking your legs out. Bruce had returned to his pasta after you’d kissed a few more times. “Am I still under an NDA, or are we going official?”

Bruce sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, and you wanted to kiss it. You wanted to kiss him again and again.

“We’ll call the marketing team on Monday. For now, we can keep this to ourselves,” Bruce said.

“Deal. Oh, and Maggie wants a picture tonight.”

Bruce gave you his well-practiced, tortured look. You returned it with a grin. Somehow you were able to coax Bruce upstairs to watch a movie. His living room matched the rest of the decor he had going on, but the gigantic flat screen across from the couch threw it off. You kept your distance from Bruce at first, but he pulled the pocket of your sweatpants towards himself. Crossing the sofa, you curled up against Bruce, pressing your knees on top of his.

Alfred walked into the room, smiling as he dropped off popcorn. Cinnamon followed at his heels. Your dog popped onto the couch and wedged himself in the tiny space between you and Bruce. Bruce gave Cinnamon a soft look and several pets.

“Alfred, can you take a picture of us for Instagram? Maggie wants one,” you said, holding out your phone. To Bruce, you said, “You can post this one. I have another one in mind for later tonight.”

Your hand made its way across Bruce’s body in a side hug, and his chin pressed itself comfortably onto the top of your head. You both were looking at the camera. Cinnamon even popped his head out.

Alfred left the two of you alone, and the movie began. You didn’t move any closer; you were close enough. Bruce’s hand curled around yours as the film progressed, and when it ended, your head was on his chest.

“We should head to bed,” Bruce murmured.

“Yeah, but I have to take my picture first.”

You would get a crick in your neck with how hard you were straining to get the right angle by laying down. Holding hands with your boyfriend (yay!!!) while trying to get a picture for Instagram with a flattering angle was tricky; it should be considered evil.

“Is all of this really necessary?”

The picture was ready to be doctored now. You leaned away, releasing your hand from Bruce’s grip and sitting cross-legged on ‘your side’ of the bed. It was alright, but you thought it could be beneficial to brighten the image and amp up the contrast just a touch.

You reclined on the soft headboard as you edited the picture and brainstormed a caption. Your shorts rode up the slightest bit as you got comfortable, sitting with your legs crisscrossed. Bruce shifted beside you. The clacking of your keyboard was overshadowed by the click of another camera. Your eyes shot to Bruce, who had his phone almost sheepishly under his chin, camera pointed to you. A small smile made him turn away from you.

“Wait, did you post that picture of me?”

“No. I just took it for me. Is that okay?”

Afterward, you would feel silly for your voice’s harsh tone when you asked the question. You would feel mildly ashamed, remembering how the man beside you in bed shied away from you as if he’d done something wrong.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you said with a smile, feeling your insides melt. You were unused to the sensation of your organs turning to mush, but you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

You muttered more as you typed out the caption. It had been a long time since you showed your screen to Bruce for approval, but tonight you decided to do so. The caption was simple, an acronym. ‘loml’ with a simple red heart emoji.

“What does that mean?”

“Love of my life,” you murmured. When you looked at Bruce, you saw his cheeks stained pink and his eyes trained to the ceiling.

Cute.

“Well, I suppose I should go back to my own room,” you say with a sigh.

You jump out of your skin when Bruce’s cold fingers wrap gently around your wrist. He’s like a ghost, or he’s trying his best to be.

“You can stay for a little bit. We can talk if you want. Or I could put something on the TV.”

It seemed he wanted you to stay. You would try not to look so pleased.

“Okay.”

Bruce tugged you close, and you curled up to his side. It wasn’t long until Bruce’s breathing slowed down to a steady rhythm. You wanted to savor this moment, but his peaceful rest lulled you to sleep.

You woke alone at nine am to Alfred bringing in breakfast. Cinnamon had curled himself into your arms like he did at home. The shower in the en suite bathroom was running.

“Good morning,” you said, holding Cinnamon down from begging for food.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Master Bruce went out around one in the morning and came back by seven.”

Speak of the devil, Bruce exited the bathroom, towel around his waist. He was damp but smelled good as he leaned in to kiss you. You took the hem of your sleep shirt and swiped it under his eye where he missed with soap.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

You hummed as Alfred called for Cinnamon, and the two of them left. Bruce clambered onto the bed with the tray, mimicking your cross-legged pose. Eating breakfast in bed with Bruce was great. You fed him some blueberries from the bowl on the tray, and he fed you mouthfuls of pancakes. It was all horribly, terribly domestic.

“How did we get here, huh? You’re so mushy,” you asked, stroking his cheek with your pointer finger.

“I have something for you,” Bruce said, digging around in his bedside table. You tried getting a peek over his shoulder, but he was hunched so fully over whatever he would give to you.

“I bought it after our brunch date. Back then, there was just something about you I couldn’t get out of my mind.”

With each word, his voice had lowered until it was a whisper. He handed you a flat square box. It had clean edges and no defining brand or markings. The tissue paper inside was brittle, and underneath it was a gorgeous bracelet. It was a tennis bracelet that glittered with small, squared diamonds.

“Oh, Bruce,” you murmured. His hands came into view. You gave him a nod, and he wrapped the metal around your wrist. It sparkled in the lamplight.

“I wanted to give you something for all the care you’ve shown me.”

You gave Bruce a soft kiss and a smile. Bruce only hummed, dropping his head onto your shoulder. It was going to be a good day.

[marauderundercover]

Ice Cream Weekends

Hi, this is just fluff. Pure fluff and nothing else. (Reverse Robins and Bio!dad Bruce)

Ages: Damian (23) Marinette (21) Tim (16) Jason (14) Dick (9)

“Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s one weekend. We’re not helpless.” Marinette reassures her dad, practically pushing him out the door. If he cancelled another trip with Selina, she’d be pissed. And a pissed off Selina means that the wedding is gonna be pushed back and Marinette was not about to let that happen. Not again.

“Are you sure you and Damian can handle the others? And you’re sure I don’t need someone to fill in for Alfred?” He asks, obviously trying to find a reason to stay. Marinette huffs, crossing her arms as she glares up at her dad.

“Are you forgetting that I basically grew up in a French bakery before coming to live with you? Seriously?” She points out, smirking at the resigned look on his face.

“It’s the first time I’ve left Dick alone.” He says softly. She glances behind her, where Dick was currently chasing Jason in an attempt to get him to play tag. Her youngest brother was sweet, and despite the incident at the circus, seemed to be adjusting okay.

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. I promise.” She says.

“Call me or Selina if you guys need anything. And I mean anything.” He says. She agrees, and waves as he gets into the car. Yeah, she’ll call them. When hell freezes over. She was not about to be the one to ruin their romantic weekend. If they really needed them, she’d make Damian call. He didn’t care about possibly ruining a romantic weekend. Locking the door, she turns and whistles, grinning as her youngest brother runs right to her, standing at attention. The other two trail behind him, neither looking excited.

“Okay men, we have an entire weekend without Dad. Do you know what that means?” She asks, posing to try and mimic a general.

“Ice cream for dinner!” Dick cheers, jumping up and down. Marinette grins.

“Right you are, soldier! What else?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tim.

“No sleep?” He asks, finally smiling.

“Like that’s any different for you.” Jason mumbles with crossed arms.

“Good job boys. And what’s the last thing?” She asks, grinning as they all look confused. Perfect. “Nobody tells Dad!” She cheers, laughing as Dick whoops and starts running in circles.

“Or, you could be responsible like you told Father you would be. Actually make them eat dinner and sleep. Two things that are important for their health.” Damian drawls, walking into the room with his arms crossed. Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Or, you could stop being such a buzzkill.” She suggests. He scowls.

“I am not a buzzkill. I am, however, taking Father’s instructions seriously. Grayson and Todd are both supposed to be in bed no later than eleven.” He says.

“That’s not fair! What about-” Jason argues, clearly about to mention patrol, something he knew he wasn't supposed to mention around Dick. It was bad enough that Jason and Tim had taken up the mantle of Robin at 12. Dick would not be allowed out of the house in costume for several years. No way.

“Father said that Drake and I will handle it. You, Marinette and Grayson will remain here.” Damian says in a no-nonsense tone.

“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun! Dad and Alfred are gone, it’s okay to just relax.” Marinette insists, letting Dick grab her hand as she starts towards the kitchen. “Dick and I are going to make gigantic ice cream sundaes and eat until we get sick. You losers can either join us, or go eat some stupid dinner that Damian buys because I’m not cooking tonight.” She adds, laughing as Dick cheers.

“Yeah losers! Mari and I are the best!” He yells, practically vibrating in excitement. Marinette grins. This was going to be the best weekend ever. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the stack of special bowls she had bought specifically for this weekend. They were huge, perfect for giant ice cream sundaes and she’d gotten one for each of her siblings. She figured Jason would trail in eventually, if only to get away from Damian. She loved her brothers, truly she did. But every time he had to wear the cowl, Damian got cranky. It was annoying. She may find his uniform as Red Bird disgusting, but he was always more relaxed as his own persona. Pulling out several different types of ice cream and all of the toppings she could find, Marinette grins at the completely covered counter.

“Okay kiddo, how’re we doing this?” She asks, completely prepared to watch her youngest brother slip into a sugar coma.

“Can I have anything?” He asks, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“Of course.” She says.

“Then I want chocolate ice cream and cookies n cream ice cream and cookie dough ice cream and fruity pebbles ice cream and the peanut butter cup ice cream with hot fudge and marshmallows and caramel and gummy bears and m&ms and whipped cream and a cherry and, oh! Sprinkles! Lots and lots of sprinkles!” He lists off all in one breath. Marinette blinks at him before nodding and beginning to scoop ice cream.

“It’s your sundae, kid.” She says, trying to ignore the nagging thought (that sounds an awful lot like Damian) that this was a horrible idea. She wasn’t going to listen, because that would mean admitting defeat and Dick would probably be upset. So hopefully nothing too bad happens.

“What the hell?” Jason asks, walking in. Marinette frowns.

“Language, Jay.” She reminds him, nodding towards Dick. He rolls his eyes, ruffling Dick’s hair before grabbing a handful of gummy bears.

“Is all that ice cream for him?” He asks, pointing at the huge bowl that she was currently drowning in toppings.

“Yup. Told you guys we’re going to eat ourselves into sugar comas.” She says, passing her little brother his sundae before starting on (a smaller) one for herself.

“Think you can get me a couple scoops of strawberry?” Jason asks after a pause. She looks over at him and grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She teases, switching over to getting his ice cream. She glances over at Dick, eyes widening when she sees the huge dent he’s already made in his ice cream. “Hey, slow down kiddo. You’re gonna get a brain freeze.” She says. He nods, but continues shoveling the ice cream in at an alarming rate. Marinette passes Jason his ice cream while sliding a glass of water to Dick. He frowns at it.

“What’s that for?” He asks with a pout as he hugs his ice cream bowl closer.

“It’s so you can slow down. I don’t actually want you in a sugar coma, buddy.” She says softly, he sighs, but still takes a long drink of water. Finishing up the toppings on her sundae, Marinette grins as Tim walks in.

“Does your offer of ice cream for dinner still stand?” He asks, holding a cup of what she knows to be coffee. She hums, turning to the freezer and grabbing the one ice cream she hadn’t offered to Dick.

“Is your favorite flavor still ‘Coffee Bean Blast’ from Trader Joe’s?” She asks, holding the container. Tim nods with a grin, watching as she gets him several large scoops.

“Thanks Mars.” He says, taking the bowl from her and adding his toppings. Hot fudge and chocolate covered espresso beans. She starts putting away the toppings and ice cream so that they won’t melt, knowing the chances of Damian joining them were slim. He’d never really acted like a kid. Not as long as she’d known him. And since he’s Batman for the weekend, he’d be even less likely to do anything fun. Just as she’s closing the last ice cream container, the kitchen door swings open again.

“I think it may be beneficial for our….bond as siblings, if I were to participate in this ice cream for dinner experiment.” Damian says, his face serious as he walks in. Marinette raises an eyebrow in surprise, but grins at her brother.

“What flavor?” She asks. This was going to be the best weekend ever.

---

Bonus: “I blame you for giving him so much sugar!” Damian yells, stacking a smaller stepladder onto their tallest ladder.

“How was I supposed to know the kid would be able to get up onto the chandeliers?” Marinette counters, sticking mattresses underneath where Dick was hanging precariously, a large grin on his ice-cream covered face. Maybe next time she shouldn’t let him have so much ice cream.

@maribat-bdbwm

[thebigbadbatswife]

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever

Summary - Y/N starts wondering if she dodged a bullet or just lost the love of her life.

Warnings - Please only read if you’re 18+, angst, smut, make up sex. 

[A/N] - Inspired by the song ‘I Don’t Wanna Live Forever’ by Taylor Swift

Word Count - 2.9k

The sky was covered in pitch black clouds, completely blocking out the stars. Lightning danced through the clouds and thunder shook the heavens, as rain poured onto the world below. A bright white flash briefly illuminated the old gothic manor that had weathered storms far worse than this one. Inside, the manor’s owner sat alone in front of a fireplace, a glass of bourbon in one hand, his phone in the other. He was so lost in his own thoughts, he barely heard the storm raging outside.

Bruce scrolled through his contacts and only stopped once he had reached her name. He clicked on her contact and his thumb hovered over the call button. After about a minute, he switched the phone off, set it on the nearby table and downed his drink in one. For the past six months, either when he wasn’t going out on patrol (which was rarely), or he had just gotten back from one, this was his ritual. Ever since she walked out of that door, cursing his name and the day they’d met, he found himself back here.

He wanted to call her. God above did he want to call her and make everything alright again, but she had made it extremely clear she never wanted to hear from him ever again. So Bruce didn’t call. He respected that she didn’t want to talk to him.

He set the empty glass onto the table and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes closed and he imagined that, by some miracle, she walked back in through that front door. That she’d see him standing there and would run into his arms. Bruce would wrap his arms around her, bringing her close to his body. His lips would gently brush against hers before he kissed her passionately. He’d lift her up and carry her to his bedroom. Then he’d lay her on his bed before quickly removing both of their clothes and they would stay there for hours on end.  

An involuntary sigh left him as he imagined her skin against his and his eyes snapped open because, no, that wasn’t going to happen. The logical part of his brain knew that. It reminded him constantly, but the part of his brain that dared to dream the impossible? The part of his brain that only existed because of her? That part was still convinced that somehow, someway, that would happen. Because it had to. It just had to… right?

He leaned back in the armchair he was sitting in and a heavy sigh left him. Bruce felt like he was going crazy. Every other relationship he’d had, he had never gone through this before. Even when he wasn’t the one to end it. What was it about her that made her so different?

A voice in the back of his head, and in his chest, told him exactly what made her so different, but he was quick to silence it. He didn’t want to think about that. Especially when she was no longer his. Bruce was brought out of his thoughts from a knock at the doorway. He looked over to his shoulder to see Alfred standing there.

“Master Bruce, may I suggest you get some rest so that you’re ready for that meeting tomorrow morning?” Alfred asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

Bruce chuckled and shook his head and turned his attention away from the older man. “Sleep? That’s the last thing I need, or want, right now, Alfred.”

His dreams had been all the same since she left. They were always about her. Good or bad, it didn’t matter. She was the main feature in all of them and he always woke up calling her name. It wasn’t bad enough she infected his thoughts during the day, non, she had to infect his subconscious as well. There was a small part of Bruce that wondered if perhaps she had similar dreams, but since she was the one that had left, she couldn’t be. Could she?

You were sitting up late on your windowsill seat, looking out over the city. For reasons you couldn’t fathom, Bruce was on your mind tonight and he refused to leave. You were slowly running through everything that had happened between the two of you and there was a part of you that was wondering if leaving had been the right decision.

When the two of you had finally gone public with your relationship, the paparazzi had constantly invaded your privacy. It had gotten on your nerves, as well as made you a little scared. Not to mention that your life had been threatened by Bruce’s enemies and those threats had increased after you had learnt his secret. It certainly hadn’t helped that every now and then a particularly crazy ex of his would show up out of the blue, nor the fact that you knew that one of them was literally an assassin.

However, even with all of that, yours and Bruce’s relationship had been one of the best things to have ever happened to you. All of your past exes, at some point, had ended up either getting aggressive with you or lost interest and left. Never Bruce though.

When you’d been together he had always made it a point to ask you about your day or how you had slept. If you’d had a bad day or dream or whatever, really, then he would do what he could to try and cheer you up. When he was away on business trips and couldn’t take you along with him, he always made sure to either text or facetime you before you went to bed, no matter what the time it was for him. And if he was ever forced to cancel a date or accidentally missed an anniversary he would always make it up to you in the best possible way.

It was memories like these that had you wondering if you truly had dodged a bullet by leaving Bruce or if you had just caused yourself to lose the love of your life.

You wanted to scream! Why were you thinking about all of this now?! You could understand thinking all this before you had made the decision, but afterwards? After it had all been said and done? It made no sense!

You ran your hands through your hair and let out a frustrated sigh. You eyed your phone sitting on the other side of your windowsill seat. Should you call him? Let him know you had made a mistake? You knew he would probably still be awake at this hour… That’s when you remembered the article you’d seen a couple of days ago where Bruce had been pictured at a gala with a rather beautiful woman on his arm. It could just be for show…

‘Or he’s already moved on,’ you thought sadly. It didn’t matter if you had made a mistake or not, it was far too late to correct it now. With that thought, you got up from where you were sitting and made your way to bed.

A couple of nights later you found yourself in the exclusive nightclub, The Sirens. Your best friend, Tracey, had dragged you here saying it was about time you found someone else. And this club was the perfect place to do exactly that!

You really hadn’t wanted to go, but since she was your best friend, and you didn’t want to disappoint her, you agreed to go.

You were wearing a short low cut black dress, that perfectly highlighted your assets, with matching black heels. As for your makeup, you had gone for a dark smokey eye and a red lipstick. The lipstick had, of course, been Tracey’s idea. As she had applied it, she had enthusiastically claimed that men would not be able to keep their eyes off of you. And she had been right.

All night men had been coming up to you, trying to flirt, bought you a couple of drinks and you had turned them all down. There was only one man that you wanted to be paying attention to you and you were now the last thing on his mind. You inwardly laughed at yourself. Here you were in one of the nicest places in Gotham City (and that was saying something since this was Gotham after all), and you were standing around, turning down perfectly good hotties and looking sad because you couldn’t stop thinking about Bruce fucking Wayne! It was pathetic.

As you turned down yet another perfectly suitable one night stand candidate, Tracey came over to you, annoyance sparkling in her emerald eyes.

“Seriously? What was wrong with that one!” she exclaimed as she gestured in the direction the man had gone. You leant an elbow on the bar's surface and ran your hand through your hair.

“Nothing,” you replied quietly. Nothing had been wrong with the five before him. Well, nothing except for the fact that none of them were him.

“Fuck, you’re really not over him,” Tracey stated when she saw your expression.

“No, Tracey, I’m not. I thought I was, but...” you trailed off as you turned your head to meet her gaze. She shook her head which caused her blonde ringlet curls to bouncy slightly. Tracey then grabbed your hand.

“Come on,” she said as she started to pull you away from the bar and outside the club.

As soon as you were outside, she let go and quickly hailed down a cab. As one pulled up, she tugged you over to it.

“What are you doing?” you asked as she did so. She stopped and turned around and faced you, placing her hands on both of your shoulders.

“You are getting into that cab, you are going to Wayne Manor and you are going to tell that billionaire playboy you ain’t over him. Then you’re going to have a fan-fucking-tastic night, which you’re going to tell every single detail of to me, tomorrow. Understood?”

“But Tracey, what about that picture?” You didn’t need to elaborate as Tracey had been there when you’d come across the article.

“Right, I can’t tell you how I know this, but from what I heard, Brucie boy didn’t say a word to her after that picture was taken. Hell, apparently he just left her there at the end of the night! Which means, he’s probably moping over you like you’re moping over him,” she replied as she continued to drag you over to the cab and basically pushed you inside. “Now go and make sure you have fun!”

Before you were able to protest further, Tracey was already walking away.

“Where to, miss?” the cab driver asked. You couldn’t believe you were doing this.

“Wayne Manor, please.”

The drive to Wayne Manor was far longer than you remembered it being, which meant that you had far too much time to think about what you were doing. Was this really such a good idea?

As the cab started up the driveway and eventually came to a stop right outside the Manor, you knew there was absolutely no turning back. There hadn’t been the second you had told the driver to bring you here. So you paid the cab driver his fair and got out.

As the car drove away you looked up at the Manor before beginning to slowly make your way up the front steps. Nervously, you rung the doorbell. A few minutes past and the door opened, revealing a very confused Alfred.

“Miss Y/N? What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I came to talk to Bruce. Is he home?”

“Of course,” Alfred stood to the side to allow you into the Manor. Once you’d entered and he had shut the door, he began to lead you through the halls to the room Bruce was currently in. “Right this way.”

When you got there, Alfred bid you good luck and then left off to get back to whatever it was he had been doing before your arrival. Taking a deep breath, you entered the room.

Bruce was pouring himself a drink when you walked in. The sound of your heels on the polished wood floor made him stop and he looked over his shoulder at you. His eyes were wide like he had just seen a ghost.

“Y/N…” your name was barely a whisper as it left him.

“Hi,” you replied timidly. You realised that you had no idea what you wanted to say to him.  

He abandoned his drink and approached you slowly, like if he moved too quickly you would sudden evaporate before his eyes. He came to a stop before you and his hands came up and cupped your face. One of your own hands came up and rested over the top of his. His blue eyes swirled with too many emotions for you to make out clearly what they were. One of them, however, you saw just long enough for a warm feeling to start flooding through your chest.

“You came back.” The disbelief was more than evident in his voice as he spoke.

“I did. Bruce I’m so sorry, I…”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied, cutting off your apology. “Just kiss me.”

You leaned up and kissed him, putting all of the passion you could behind it. It wasn’t long before the kiss turned heated, your tongues quickly slipping into each other's mouths and you found yourself pushed up against the wall. To make it easier on the both of you, Bruce hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips and your arms around his neck.

Bruce was soon kissing and biting at your neck as one of his large hands slipped into your dress and began to fondle one of your breasts. A moan left you as he gently tweaked your nipple. He trailed kisses up your neck, along your jawline and back to your lips. As you kissed and he continued to fondle your chest, you decided you’d had enough of the foreplay and that you wanted, no you needed, him inside you.

You pulled away, breathing hard and trying to return some oxygen to your brain. “Bruce, I need you. Now,” you said in between pants. He answered by pulling you away from the wall and carrying you through the Manor, toward his bedroom. As he climbed the stairs and walked through the hallways you resumed kissing and began to unbutton his shirt.

Once you reached his bedroom, you were both quick to remove your clothes and settle on the bed. Bruce hovered over you as he aligned himself with your entrance. Then his blue eyes were meeting yours and he silently asked for your permission. You answered with a small nod and then he was slowly pushing his cock into you.

You let out a pleasure filled cry as your walls stretched around his cock. A low guttural groan left him as well. Fuck, you had forgotten how good he felt. When he was fully in, he stilled and ducked down and captured your lips with his. Once you had adjusted to him, you let him know with a small roll of your hips and he began to move. He started off slow, drawing out each of his movements, before picking up speed.

“Fuck… Bruce!” were the only words you could coherent form as he slammed into you and stole the breath from your lungs. The grip he had on your hips was sure to leave bruises there, not that you cared. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud and obscene in the room and nearly drowned out the moaning mess Bruce had turned you into. As always, other than the occasional grunt or groan, Bruce was mostly silent.

“Y/N, I’m close,” he managed to say as his thrusts were starting to become more erratic.

“Me too…” you managed to reply in between your moans. No sooner had the words left your mouth you suddenly felt his thumb against your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. Suddenly the pleasure was all too much and you came crying his name. Then Bruce was pulling out of you and spilled his seed across your stomach.

After you two had cleaned up, Bruce gathered you up in his arms and maneuvered you under the covers with him, before pulling you in close. You were both silent as you laid there, you both felt as if you had gotten out everything you needed to say through your lovemaking. Well, almost everything. There was the big question of whenever or not this meant you were back together.

“Bruce?” you called out softly as you pulled away just far enough so you could see his face. He brushed an errant strand of hair away from your face.

“Yes?” he answered.

“Does this mean… I mean, are we…?”

“Back together?” Bruce asked as he finished your sentence. You nodded and he smiled. “I fucking hope so.” You chuckled a little at that.

“So, this means you still want me?”

“Darling, of course I still want you. I will always want you,” he replied before kissing you gently. When the kiss ended, you snuggled in close to him. “And I’m sorry about what happened. I’ll never be that reckless again. I promise.”

“I should hope not and, for the record, I’m always going to want you as well.”  

[unsupervisedpanda]

Loki x reader

Live action

"Tony!" You yelled as you stormed into the living room.

    "Some guy is here! A tall one with black hair?" You heard the man scoff behind you but ignored him.

   Tony entered the room and glared at the male who was now standing next you.

   "Loki." Tony greeted coldly.

  "Tony." The man, Loki, replied.

  "Y/n." You huffed pointing at yourself.

   Tony turned to you apologetically.

"Sorry I didn't tell you we were having a guest. He's here on house arrest." Tony explained gesturing at the man.

   "Right. Okay, but Tony we've talked about this. I work for your team and I need to stay informed." You sighed stepping towards him to straighten his collar.

    "I know y/n but to be fair he's not very memorable!" Tony defended and you glared at him.

    Tugging harshly on his collar you yanked him down so he was eye to eye with you.

   "I don't care how memorable he is. I expect you to tell me these things and to be professional." Tony gulped but nodded.

    "Right. Gotcha." He choked out and you released his collar.

   Turning around you faced your guest, Loki. You'd heard about him before, none of it good. However you'd give him the benefit of the doubt. He was from Asgard and the brother of Thor. Those were the only things you knew for sure. Everything else you'd have to learn from him. Facing him you introduced yourself.

    "Hello Loki. I am y/n l/n of Midgard as I've heard Thor refer to it." You held out your hand to him.

Eyeing you warily he held his hand out as well but Tony yanked you back.

   "Your gloves." He warned you and you blinked. You totally forgot.

   "Oh. Right." You shook your head pulling a pair of gloves out.

    Why the gloves? Because you had the ability of reading emotions through touch. Skin to skin contact gave you a rush of emotions from that person. Good or bad whatever they were feeling you felt it just as much as they did.

    Tugging them on you reached out again.

   "Sorry about that. I didn't want to read your emotions without your consent." You explained nodding to the gloves.

   Loki seemed surprised but took your hand, shaking it.

   "Noted. I am Loki of Asgard." He introduced bowing slightly.

   You quirked a brow at that in amusement and smiled.

   "Nice to meet you. I'll set up a room for you as soon as possible but until then you may stay on my floor if you so choose. Although I'm sure Thor would be more than pleased to have you stay with him." You informed him easily.

   He winced at the mention of his brother but nodded.

   "I may take you up on that offer." He smirked and Tony snarled behind you.

   "Y/n I really don't think-" you turned to glare at your boss.

   "Tony. I believe it's in your best interest to stop before you begin. This could've been avoided had you actually told me what was going on but you didn't. That being said unless Loki chooses otherwise, he will stay with me." You crossed your arms and raised a brow, daring Tony to challenge you.

    The male frowned but just grumbled as he walked away. Smirking you turned to the god.

    "Okay. Now that we've taken care of that. Would you like to stay with me or your brother?" You inquired smiling.

   "You, if the offer still stands. My brother can be overbearing." Loki grimaced.

   "Of course. Follow me." You chirped walking over to the elevator.

    "We're on floor 8(first initial). It stands for what floor level it is and who it belongs to. When we get you set up I think you'll be either floor 9 or 6. Unless you choose to stay on my floor which you're more than welcome to do." You grinned at him before the elevator doors slid open and FRIDAY told you you'd arrived.

   Stepping out you led Loki through your living room and into the guest room.

    "You can stay here for now. You'll have your own bathroom, too. We can get you a different comforter set later but until then I hope you don't mind the (f/c) set." You blushed lightly before entering the room yourself and straightening it up.

    "I'll be right across the hall if you need anything. I'll set up a passcode to my floor that only you and I know until the others calm down. I'm sure they're not thrilled you're here. That way they won't bother you." You told him as you breezed past him into the kitchen.

    "Everything in here is open to you if you want it: coffee, tea, juice. I've got a lot." You opened the fridge to prove the point.

    Fifteen minutes later you'd finished showing him around so you led him to the couch.

    He'd kept a straight face for most of the tour so when you were done you bit your lip.

   "If there's anything you need just let me know. The others may be a bit harsh but they mean well most of the time." You laughed nervously as you flopped onto the couch yourself. Pulling a pillow to your chest, you hugged it before letting out a sigh.

   "Okie dokie. I have to get back to work, make sure the others didn't burn down the main floor. You can lounge around here until you feel comfortable enough to leave. If you need me just tell FRIDAY. He'll let me know." Standing up you left to check on the others.

   Tony had probably already told them and they were probably planning an ambush on your apartment at this very moment.

    Stepping into the elevator you spoke.

   "FRIDAY I'd like to set up a security measure. No one but me and Loki can enter the apartment or floor without exclusive permission. Understand?"

    "Yes miss l/n. Security measure is now in place." The robotic voice responded.

  Nodding the doors opened with a ding.

    Stepping into the main area you noticed everyone in the living room, tension spilling into the halls.

    "You let him come here!? After everything that happened in New York!" You heard Nat yell.

    "I didn't have much of a choice!" Tony groaned.

    "He won't do any harm! He's here in peace!" Thor reassured miserably.

   "Well he should leave in pieces!" Clint grumbled.

    Steve was silent as he sat on the couch with his arms crossed, Bucky beside him.

   Bruce was about to intervene but you clapped loudly to get their attention.

   "Hello my fellow colleagues and friends. How about we play nice and not threaten our guest!" You chirped a little to sweetly.

   Everyone faced you but Nat stood up first.

   "Are you crazy y/n!? Letting that lunatic stay in your apartment!" She growled as she glared you down.

    Glaring back at her you crossed your arms.

    "Yes. I am crazy. We've been through this time and time again and I go to therapy once every two weeks for what you call crazy." You snarled at her and she took a slight step back.

    The word "crazy" was a touchy word for you. You'd been called many things in your life time. Crazy, a lunatic, a freak, and many other things because of what you could do.

   "Y/n I didn't mean- it's just he's dangerous!" She tried to back pedal but what was done was done.

   "Whatever Nat. Loki," you emphasized his name, "is staying with me. He will be until he decides to leave. You all will treat him like a person or I swear I will destroy you." You warned.

   "Are we clear?" You glanced around the room and jumped when Loki spoke up behind you.

   "I'd prefer to be treated like a god, but a person works too." He smirked.

    "Loki." You greeted nodding at him.

   "Lady Y/n." He greeted back.

Thor's jaw seemed to drop as he glanced between you two.

   Loki respecting a midguardian? It seemed impossible.

   "Look at him acting like he owns the place!" Clint started but stopped when you stepped toward him taking a glove off.

   "Barton. Did I not make myself clear earlier?" You asked stalking closer.

   The male stood up and ran behind the couch.

   "Y/n we can talk about this. Just put the glove back on!" He plead as he glanced at the others for help.

   Not only did you have the ability to read and feel emotions but you could also inflict and resurface them. Clint had been through this treatment before due to his attitude and he hated it.

   "Answer the question." You snapped and he ducked behind Thor.

   "You're clear. Crystal." He promised. He really wished he had his bow and some arrows on him right now.

   "Good." You smiled pulling the glove back on.

    "Now it is Saturday night so I do believe it's a movie night is it not?" You chirped clapping your hands together enthusiastically.

   Everyone nodded not daring to say otherwise. Tony had hired you because you could round everyone up and calm things down.

    "Wonderful. Shall we?" You asked and everyone agreed. Pulling out (f/m) you put it in and hit play.

   You sat next to Loki on the farthest end of the couch due to everyone's apprehensiveness.

    About an hour in you began to nod off. Your head leaned against Loki's shoulder as your hair fell into your face.

   Loki had jumped at the contact but relaxed when he realized he wasn't in danger. He stayed as still as possible as not to wake you up. Another half an hour later and the credits were rolling.

    Glancing down at you Loki lightly removed you from his shoulder, lying you down on the couch. Then he scooped you up to take you upstairs. Maybe this was out of character for him but you'd been kind.

   Once you were in his arms your head lolled into his shoulder. He laughed quietly as he carried you to the elevator.

   "Woah reindeer games. What do you think you're doing?" Tony questioned standing up.

  Loki stopped turning around, and lifting a brow at the man.

   "I'm taking Lady y/n to her room?" Loki raised his brow in confusion.

   "We can take her up." Steve argued but Loki snickered.

   "Go ahead and try." He shrugged passing you to Tony.

   Tony gave him a smug look as he walked to the elevator with you. Five minutes later he returned, you still soundly asleep in his arms.

    "FRIDAY won't let me in." He grumbled.

    "Yes I am aware. I'll take Lady y/n up to bed now." Loki grinned before taking you from Tony.

    "Goodnight." He nodded before walking to the elevator again.

   "Night guys." You yawned waking up just a little.

      Taking you to your room Loki tucked you in after helping you take care of your nightly routine.

    "Night Loki." You slurred sleepily before hugging a pillow into your chest.

     You slept soundly for about 3 hours before you awoke to red flashing and blaring alarms.

    Panicking you flopped out of your bed and onto the floor.

    "Loki!" You yelled as you stumbled into the hall. Loki was running down the hall to your room, stumbling into you as the building shook.

    "What's going on!?" You yelped when glass shattered a floor down.

    "This hasn't happened in 3 months!" You groaned as Loki helped you up.

   As his hand grabbed yours your head went blank for a moment. Loki was scared. He was blaming himself for the attack. He worried that someone from his past was here to hurt him. He was worried about you. He-

    You jumped when Loki pulled on you hand.

   "Are you alright, Lady y/n?" He asked and you glanced up at him.

   "I'm okay. You?" You asked stepping closer to him and pressing your bare hand to his face.

    All of the emotions he was feeling were negative. You urged a calm through your finger tips and felt his shoulders relax.

   Then he tensed up and yanked your hand away from him.

   "We need to go to the others. Find out what all this noise is about." He snapped dropping your hand.

    Swiftly he walked to the elevator and hit a button hoping to make it to the main floor.

   Sliding open the doors granted access and you were on your way. Then you weren't. Something thudded on top of the metal box and the lights flickered.

    You yelped as the elevator bounced and then stumbled into Loki's chest.

   "Sorry." You groaned and then looked up. Whatever was on the roof was walking back and forth trying to figure out how to get in.

    "Got any sneaky tricks up your sleeve?" You asked pushing yourself off of the man.

    "Maybe. Depends on what it is." He shrugged before walking over to the elevator doors.

   He inspected them for a moment before somehow prying them open. From where you stood you couldn't tell how he did it.

    "Open says me." He joked half heartedly.

    Great doors were open. Not so great you were stuck between floors.

    "Up or down?" Loki asked and you glanced at him.

   "Down. We need to get to the others."

    Nodding he crouched down and slid out through the opening, about a foot and a half wide and two feet high.

    He landed gracefully on the, you assumed, 6th floor.

    "Come on out." He called stepping away from the opening.

   Taking a deep breath you crouched to slide out the way he had but shrieked when the elevator bounced again and then the sound of screaming metal filled the small space. Glass rained down around you.

    Shaking the glass out of your hair you looked up and choked on a scream. An arm had punctured the top of the elevator.

    "Shit!" You yelped pushing yourself backwards towards the small exit.

    "Lady y/n what's going on?!" You heard Loki ask but you miscalculated how high you were and fell on your butt.

    "We have to go. Now!" You exclaimed grabbing his sleeve and running for a stair case.

    The man followed you with almost no complaint as you ran to the stairwell.

   "We need to get to the third floor." You huffed as you began to run down the stairs skipping a few at a time.  

    Loki nodded checking behind you every few moments. On the 4th floor you nearly toppled over the railing when you came face to face with a creature of some kind.

    "Holy shit!" You fell backwards and Loki leapt the railing, landing in front of you. Suddenly he had two daggers in his hands as he impaled the critter.

    "Okay thanks!" You breathed out and he held his hand out to you.

   "Try to be more aware of your surroundings." He suggested as he pulled you up.

    You nodded and he took the lead. You followed him to the third floor entrance and he cautiously opened the door. Inside the Avengers were battling it out.

    "We have to get upstairs. Y/n can't defend herself!" You heard Nat snarl as she attacked yet another enemy.

   It was probably stupid on your part but you cupped your hands over your mouth and shouted "I take offense to that!" at her.

   Everything stopped for a moment as everyone turned to face you and Loki face palmed.

    "Ignorant mortal." You heard him grumble.

   Then he swooped you up into his chest and began to 'dance' around your opponents. You yelped when an axe got a little too close.

    When you were beside the others Loki passed you on to Thor.

   "Protect the midguardian." Loki had demanded before looking to you.

"You, stay out of trouble!" He smirked before involving himself to the main battle.

    "I-" you started but cried out when Thor threw you up into the air.

  "Oh my god!" You shrieked as your stomach dropped. You know the feeling. Like going straight down on a roller coaster.

    You met Loki's wide eyes mid air and then you completed the fall straight into Tony's armored arms.

    "I'm going to have a heart attack." You wheezed as you tried to catch your breath.

    Tony laughed at you setting you down.

   "Try to stay out of danger, Chéri petite!" He warned before blasting off into a different direction.

    *Chéri petite should translate to little darling! Or in Google translates case darling little one!*

    You sucked in a breath before taking in your surroundings. No one was going to be able to protect you. Glancing around you noted a decorative sword on the other side of the room, so you sprinted towards it. You yelped when something, someone grabbed you though.

     Swiveling on your heel you turned and saw one of the creatures gripping your thigh. Shrieking you slammed your palm onto it's face and channeled your fear into it. The creature let out a miserable scream as it flinched back letting you go.

    You'd never used your power as a defence before but it did the job. Whipping back around you came face to face with a clone of Loki.

   "Shit!" You yelped and jumped in surprise when it stabbed at you.

    Stumbling back you fell onto your ass again and scrambled behind the couch as the clone threw a dagger at you.

    "Loki what the shit is this!?" You screamed and the man turned in surprise, glowering when he saw the clone.

   Sure he had the same ability but this was no clone of his.

   You let out another cry when the couch was shoved away and 3 of the critters surrounded you. Turning to your team members you smirked, although it looked more like a grimace.

    "Guys! This is not what I had in mind for movie night but talk about live action!" You giggled before turning to your opponents.

   "Give me a minute to hype myself up?" You asked and then yelped when one of the things jumped at you.

   "Or not!" You dodged and slammed your hand onto it's back. Surging an extra dose of terror into it's spine.

    Yelping it wobbled away before collapsing. You'd scared the damn thing to death.

    Turning to the other two you ran at them, sliding underneath the one and grabbing it's ankle.

   This time you channeled anger at the other one through it. Turning to the second the first one attacked it, tearing it apart.

    Breathing heavily you pushed yourself up.

     "Okay two down one to-" you screamed as you slammed into the hard floor, your arm being pinned to your back.

    "That's a neat trick you have there." The voice hissed careful not to make skin to skin contact with you.

    You whimpered trying to see what or who was on top of you. You barely caught sight of the green outfit before the person was knocked off.

    "Hands off." You heard Loki snarl before pulling you up into his chest. Then you yelped in surprise when he pulled you behind him.

   "Didn't I tell you to stay out of danger?" Loki chastised as he held one arm in front of him, a dagger in hand, and the other behind him as he guarded you.

   "Actually you said trouble." You corrected your hands on his back.

    Shaking his head he sized up his clone. It matched him so much he may have thought it was a reflection. Maybe it was.

    "Lady y/n I'm going to ask you to run to Thor. Think you can handle that?" Loki asked as he pulled out another dagger.

   "Probably. Will you be okay?" You inquired.

   He nodded and you bit your lip.

"Okay. Be safe!" You whispered wrapping your arms around his waist and then running off to find Thor.

   Of course that was easier said than done. Several times you'd tripped or gotten attacked by another monster.

   Finally you got sick of everything running at you trying to run you through.

   "Fucking hell, STOP!" You screamed throwing your arms out.

   Everyone froze. Not because you froze them with an unknown ability. Nope. You just froze them with shock.

   You'd pulsed all of your annoyance and fear throughout the whole room.

   With everyone frozen you found Thor and ran to him.

"Don't throw me this time!" You huffed and the God nodded still confused.

Glancing around the room you noted at least thirty enemies left. Taking in your surroundings you ran to the left and grabbed a bow and a quiver from one of the fallen.

Nocking the arrow you pulled the string back, surprised at how in tune the bow seemed to be with you.

Shaking off the surprise you aimed at the closest enemy. Letting the string go the arrow flew and hit the creature in the head. Your eyes widened. You'd been aiming for it's leg.

You grinned and nocked another arrow. Aiming at another you aimed at it's chest and winced when the arrow whizzed past and hit a different target in the leg.

At least you still hit something! You yelped when 3 or 4 of the opposing enemies began to run at you. Apparently they didn't like being shot at by humans.

"Thor!" You yelled and ducked when he threw his hammer as you. It quickly flung into the bad dudes turning their heads to goo before flying back into Thor's hand.

"Thanks!" You breathed out as he offered you his other hand, pulling you up.

"No problem, lady y/n." He smiled before going to help somewhere else.

Pulling out another arrow you took a deep breath before nocking it.

"Please please let me be useful!" You groaned before pulling back and aiming at one of the monsters creeping up on Loki.

"Oh no you don't!" You whispered before letting go. Thankfully the arrow his exactly where you wanted it too.

Bullseye!

Quickly you reevaluated the room and noted that there were about 14 left. Then 12. Then 9. The numbers dwindled to nothing and you huffed. Collapsing to your knees you took deep breaths.

Last time this happened you hadn't left your room. Talk about action packed.

Loki scanned the room before finding you and panicked when he saw you on your hands and knees.

Teleporting to you he lightly fretted over you, barely touching.

Looking up at him you smirked.

"I just kicked some serious ass!" You giggled and his eyes widened in surprise before he relaxed.

"You did indeed, little mortal." He smiled brushing some of your hair back.

Grinning you launched yourself into his arms, hugging him.

He toppled over falling onto his back, with you on top of him. Pushing yourself up so you were hovering over him you laughed.

"Kiss me?" You asked and then it was his turn to smirk.

"Of course, M'lady." He purred as he propped himself up on one elbow. Grabbing you by the back of the neck he pulled you down to meet his lips.

You smiled into the kiss. It was perfect considering the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Then you heard some whoops and cheers, some coughing, and some complaining.

Pulling apart you looked up to see your colleagues with varying reactions.

Rolling your eyes you looked down at the God beneath you.

Looking him up and down you looked him in the eyes before grinning mischievously.

"How about we take this up to my room?" You suggested and the man quirked a brow.

"Anything you want, Dove." He smirked wrapping his arms around you and teleporting away.

[caws5749]

Dazed and Confused, The Quarantine Series, pt. 35

A/N: FINALLLYYYYYY!! I'll be writing a TON tonight (or at least, that’s my plan, which may very well change). I’m enjoying writing so much, and perhaps it will turn a bit into a DWN

Masterlist

By the time Natasha had returned with the food, you’d fallen fast asleep. Talia was so exhausted that she would probably sleep through the night and when Nat saw you on the couch, your neck bent at an angle that looked less than comfortable, she knew you’d probably do the same. 

“Hey,” she murmured, gently rubbing her hand along the length of your arm. “I’ve got food.” 

“Mmmm... ow.”

“Yeah, you fell asleep at a weird angle.”

“I can tell,” you grumbled, stretching. “Thanks for picking up the food, baby.”

Your girlfriend nodded, opening the bags and handing you some food. “Think she’ll wake?” she asked, nodding at the sleeping little girl across the room. 

“With the smell of the food, maybe. But she’s exhausted. I probably would have slept through the night if you hadn’t have woken me.” 

“Probably,” Natasha agreed, taking a seat next to you and taking a bite of her food. 

“Steve got a little too happy watching us with a kid,” you stated after a few minutes of silence. Though your girlfriend was exhausted beyond belief, her eyes widened significantly as she recalled that moment from earlier. When she didn’t say anything, you turned to look at her. Her expression was unreadable, a neutral mask placed carefully on her face. You weren’t quite sure why. 

“What is it?” you prodded gently. 

“Nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired and can’t think straight.”

Not wanting to push and not quite having the energy to even do so, you nodded and focused on the food in front of you. All you wanted to do after eating was to curl up and go to sleep with Nat, but you couldn’t do that and it was starting to dampen your already low spirits. On top of that, you would be sleeping on the couch for the evening. 

“Should have set her down on the couch,” you joked. 

“Trying to get into bed with me that badly?” Nat smirked. 

“Yes,” you answered seriously, though you were overcome with a fit of giggles two seconds later. At your antics, your girlfriend rolled her eyes. 

“You need sleep.”

“So do you, the bags under your eyes are designer.”

++++++

A high pitched scream had you shooting up, your hands out in front of you as you tried to assess the threat. After a few seconds of looking around, you found nothing, save for a five year old who was thrashing about on your bed, clearly having a nightmare. 

You scrambled off of the couch and towards Talia, shaking her gently. 

“Talia, hey, sweetheart, you’re okay,” you soothed, your heart beating rapidly at the fear that shone in the child’s eyes. She cried out a phrase, one in a language that you couldn’t understand. After Talia repeated it, you recognized it as most likely Arabic, but you still couldn’t understand. Thoughts flashed through your mind quickly as you wondered whether or not Natasha spoke Arabic. You were fairly certain she knew a bit, even if she wasn’t fluid, and so after a few more moments of Talia crying, you quickly ran from the room with the promise that you’d return. 

Nat had stopped locking her door at night after a few months of dating you and so you had no trouble running into the room. At the first sound of her door opening, your girlfriend was up and was out of the bed within seconds. 

“She had a nightmare and she’s only repeating phrases in Arabic and-”

“She’ll be okay, Y/N.”

You could only hope that was true as you both rushed back into your room. Natasha was by Talia’s side in less than a second and was quietly murmuring to her in fluent Arabic. The girl quieted promptly at the recognition of her first language, going as far as to scramble into your girlfriend’s lap. Though a bit shocked, Nat scooped her up and rocked her back and forth. 

Sighing quietly, you sat down on the couch, feeling relieved. You took the moment to worry about the little girl, before thinking of your girlfriend. Once again, she’d done what no other person could seem to do. As she sat there with Talia on her lap, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell. This was a woman who’d done countless for you, loved you unconditionally, supported you through everything, and was now waking up in the middle of the night to help a child she didn’t even know. 

You had already been wondering if she was the one, like truly the one, but you couldn’t be more certain in this moment. You knew you’d marry her. 

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even realize how silent the room had become. 

“What are you thinking about?” your girlfriend asked softly. Catching her gaze, you could tell she was amused and had seen the smile on your lips. 

“You,” you shrugged, before focusing on Talia. “She’s asleep.”

“I’m afraid to move her.”

“Maybe in a few minutes you can move her. She’ll be further into sleep.”

“What were you thinking about me?” Natasha asked. 

“How much I love you.”

“And how much do you love me?”

You laughed quietly at her antics. “More than you know.”

Quiet fell as she took in your words. 

“Enough to want to marry you,” you added, a whisper. 

“You want to marry me.” It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but you couldn’t tell whether it was born from a place of fear or happiness. 

“If you don’t want to or - it’s fi-”

“Y/N, stop. If I could come over there, I’d slap you and then kiss you. Of course I want to marry you. Just maybe not right now.”

A tear fell down your cheek from happiness. Someone wanted to marry you. The love of your life wanted to marry you. Natasha Romanoff wanted to marry you. 

At your tear, Nat must have thought something different, because she gently set Talia down on the bed before moving over to you. 

“I do want to marry you, Y/N,” she repeated, pulling you into your arms and pressing her lips to your forehead. 

“No, babe, I’m not sad, I’m happy,” you cried, more tears flowing. Pushing you back, Natasha’s thumbs wiped at your cheeks, shaking her head with a slight smirk. 

“Will you cry this much at our wedding?”

“Probably more,” you admitted with a watery chuckle. When you yawned a moment later, Nat kissed your cheek before standing. 

“I think we should go back to sleep.”

“But you just told me you wanted to marry me,” you pouted. 

“And I will tell you again in the morning.” 

++++++

“Baby, wake up.”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes before finally opening them to a beautiful red-head. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled, amused. “Bruce wants to give Talia a check up. He’s worried about some of those cuts and bruises.”

You turned your head to look over at the girl still sleeping in the bed. You looked back at Natasha. “She’s probably not going to like that.”

“She’ll be scared,” Nat agreed, before tapping your thigh lightly. “But, it has to be done. Come on.”

“No, cuddle with me.”

“There’s no room on that couch. You’re a space hog.”

“That’s not true,” you lied, knowing full well it was. 

“You have to get ready. He expects Talia at nine,” she replied. You sighed, yawning before sitting up. When you did, Natasha rewarded you with a kiss, one that you wished lasted longer. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen with Talia after I wake her.”

++++++

By the time you’d stumbled into the kitchen still half asleep, Bruce was speaking to Natasha and Talia. With Talia seemingly doing okay with Bruce, Nat stepped towards the coffee maker to speak with you.

“He wanted to get acquainted, make her feel a bit more comfortable,” she explained.

“It seems to be working,” you nodded, pouring yourself some coffee. 

“Do those cuts and bruises hurt?” Bruce asked, causing you to turn your head. You didn’t think he’d begin the visit in the kitchen, but perhaps he thought it would make it easier. 

“Not really.”

“Good, that’s good.”

He continued asking a few questions, you and Nat listening in. When it came time for the physical exam, he asked that you make your way to the med bay. Talia didn’t seem too phased, making you feel a bit calmer about the entire experience. She let Bruce push on her abdomen, look at her cuts, and even wash them out. The only thing she requested was hot chocolate after the ordeal, which you were happy to provide. 

As you were sitting on the couch in the living room with her watching a movie after her exam, Steve came up to the three of you. He looked apologetic, which puzzled the other two adults in the room. 

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked. 

“There’s a social worker here for Talia.”

“They’re taking her away? Just like that?” you questioned, already standing. 

“No,” Steve shook his head, holding his hands up to get you to stop for a second. “They just want to talk to her and see if they can figure something out. They can’t just leave her here.”

You knew that was true; you knew that she couldn’t stay here with you and it’s not like you’d even thought about having her stay but you certainly hadn’t wanted her to be taken away. Though you knew all of these things, you left the room, tears brewing in your eyes for a reason you couldn’t quite distinguish. 

“Y/N.”

You kept walking, ignoring the threat of tears falling down your cheeks. But your girlfriend didn’t stop, chasing after you until finally catching you down a few hallways. 

“Y/N, stop.” 

Her hand caught your upper arm, tugging and turning you around. Shock crossed Nat’s face as she was met with tears. 

“Y/N, what’s- why are you crying? I know it’s upsetting but-”

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?” Natasha questioned calmly. 

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” 

[maxwell-grant]

Red of Overly Sarcastic Productions once said :"If you can imagine your Batman comforting a shared child, then congratulations, you're righting Batman. If not, you're just writing the Punisher in a funny hat". This got me wondering: could the Shadow comfort a scared child?

Could he? You forget who was there to lift young Bruce to his feet at his first brush with death (sadly far from his last).

But it's an interesting question to pose still, because children were straight up not in the pulps, not in any I've read, and I can't recall any episodes of the radio show that feature them much (there's gotta be at least a few, because they had everything in that show). The most interaction I think The Shadow's ever had with children (from comics that I can discuss here, because Marshall Rogers' "Harold Goes to Washington" is way, way too much for me to go into right now, and the less I talk about some other DC comics, the better) is in the Street & Smith comics.

There's Jerry from the Devil Kyoti arc, a kid who was traumatized by an encounter with the villain who Sayre's looking after and who ends up having some kind of hidden power that allows him to see The Shadow and defeat the villain. There was a blonde Jerry who showed up later in the Monstradamus arc, but he isn't a kid so much as he's diet Jimmy Olsen or a replacement for Harry, but he had weird eyesight-based powers and a familiarity with The Shadow, so I assume it's the same character.

There was also Donald Jordan - Shadow Jr, and okay, I may have to talk more about this weird little failed experiment some other time, but the basic gist of it is that The Shadow had a friend in Tibet named Harry Jordan (and someday I'm also gonna write about the weird prevalence and significance of the name "Harry" in The Shadow's mythos in and out of universe) who was murdered, leaving his son orphaned and with nowhere to go. And, I'll admit that I have a real weakness for The Shadow calling people "son", which he does a lot in this story.

And as you can expect, it then turns out that the kid's also learned how to cloud minds and has basically the same powers The Shadow has in these comics, and they solve the mystery of his dad's murder together, and yeah, you can absolutely tell that they are setting up this kid to be The Shadow's Robin. Although, interestingly, they don't have The Shadow actually recruit the kid, instead it's Jordan who asks The Shadow if he can go with him and join his mission, and Cranston even states he's going to have to "earn" his way

"Must I stay here, sir? It will always remind me of dad - I'd like to devote my life to your fight against evil and evil doers!

Now, "Shadow Jr's" career was incredibly short-lived, it only lasted for about two other issues, and I have no idea what happened in his final appearence called "Snake Eyes" in Shadow Comics #77, I cannot find that issue anywhere and I really want to. But the one other solo story of his I've read was...well, I think it kinda illustrates why the idea of The Shadow having a Robin was doomed from the start.

...Yeah. Even The Shadow at his most sanitized and family friendly is still The Shadow, and there's no room for children in his network, obviously he shouldn't and wouldn't have children be in those positions or make decisions expected from grown-ups who have already had encounters with death and danger, why would anyone do that-

The only instance I can think of The Shadow interacting with a child in the pulps was during The Prince of Evil, when he has to rescue a young boy from Stark's thugs.

Cranston, dazed, tried to stagger to his feet. Before he could do so, the thug had picked up the limp figure of the boy and was darting out into the street. There was a scream of horror from pedestrians.

A heavy truck was racing at top speed along the avenue. Straight into the path of the truck, the thug threw the senseless boy!

The driver of the truck jammed on the brakes. But it was too late to halt the heavy vehicle. The broad-tired wheels rolled toward the limp head of the lad on the pavement.

An instant before it could crush out his life, Lamont Cranston dived headlong into the path of destruction. His shoulder struck the boy, rolling him toward the curb. A quick wriggle, and Cranston swerved aside from the grinding death that loomed over him.

He picked up the boy. One glance and he knew there was no time to lose. The attempted killer had leaped into a waiting sedan and had already made his escape.

The boy was all Cranston could see or think about. Brass knuckles had fractured his skull. He had suffered a concussion of the brain. A glance at his bluish lips and the fixed glaze of his staring eyes told Cranston that unless the boy was operated on immediately, he would die.

A leap, Cranston was in his car. He laid the boy gently on the seat beside him, then headed the car toward the nearest hospital. Traffic lights were ignored.

The boy was taken to an emergency operating room and a skilled surgeon went to work. When it was over, Cranston asked only one question: "Will the child live?"

"Hard to say. We'll do our best."

"Spare no expense. Put him in a private room. Engage day and night nurses."

Cranston's face was pale. He knew that he himself was indirectly responsible for the boy's attack. A supercriminal had made a prompt answer to Cranston's message over Jackson's telephone. That telephone must have been tapped. The attempt to kill the boy was a vicious warning for Lamont Cranston to mind his own business about the Harmon family. It was a follow-up of the attack on Jackson's dog.

Cranston felt a surge of hot anger. He kept it under control while he answered routine police questions. He told all he knew - which was nothing.

He had only one angry thought. He intended to drive straight to the office of David Chester. He'd get the truth out of the sleek Chester, if he had to batter him with vengeful fists!

Cranston was actually halfway to Chester's office before common sense returned to him. He realized he had lost his sense of balance. He was behaving exactly as the crooks wanted. He was playing their game, not his!

He parked, and the hot rage drained slowly from him. He stopped thinking about the limp figure of a young lad on a white operating table.

This is definitely because Tinsley writes the character differently than Gibson, but I actually cannot think of another occasion where we got to read about The Shadow actively wanting to hit someone with his fists. It's very, very rare to read about The Shadow actually getting mad in the first place in such an undignified way. And I think with this passage, you'll start to notice a pattern.

The problem isn't that The Shadow cannot interact with kids or that he can't comfort them, he does it to his agents and adults he wants to help just fine, he knows how to address people in their language, or any language. The problem is, The Shadow is constantly surrounded by danger everywhere he goes, because he is The Shadow. He can be any number of things at any number of occasions, but usually, when The Shadow shows up, it's usually because people are going to die, and people are going to kill, and it's his job to address that and work the scales.

Children should not be anywhere near this, and if The Shadow's interacting with a child, it usually means that some grave danger or tragedy fell upon them, and he's here to either prevent greater tragedy or address the fall-out, and he'd be the first to agree that neither of these options should be happening at all. It doesn't mean he's not gonna do what's right and give life and limb to protect them, but, it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to look after them in the first place. Maybe it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to protect us.

But then again, as I mentioned when I talked about my own reasons for liking The Shadow so much, there are many kids who would like nothing more than to have the Boogeyman by their side to protect them. There's comfort in knowing that the scariest man in the room is unconditionally there to protect you, and that is the comfort that The Shadow gives best. Not as Cranston, not under a friendly face, but as what he is.

Due to a lack of scenes from the pulps or satisfying scenes from elsewhere, I will instead be pulling one from a fan story written by Kimberly-Murphy Smith, editor and writer of The Hot Cornerm where The Shadow rescues a child who was kidnapped for blackmail. I couldn't care less that it's fanfic, and if you do, come back in 20 or so years after The Shadow's been made public domain and it's gonna be just as official as anything licensed (on my “to write about” list: how fickle the separation between “official” and “fanfic” is, and the many times it plainly didn’t exist). There’s aspects of her writing I don’t care for, but I really like this scene and I do think The Shadow’s more gentle interactions with people are necessary to getting the character.

Annabelle.

She stopped crying for a minute. "Who's there?" she said, her voice choked.

A friend. Your mommy and daddy sent me to pick you up.

"Mommy? Mommy's here?"

Sh-h-h. Annabelle felt a gloved hand gently stroking her hair. She's waiting for you at home. So, we need to hurry up and leave.

"'kay." She looked around. "Where are you?"

It's kind of hard to see me. It's dark in here, plus you've been crying so much your eyes probably hurt.

"Yeah."

Don't be afraid. I'm here to help.

"'kay."

The implicit trust of children was simply amazing at times. Adults trembled in fear of The Shadow's wrath, but children somehow seemed to understand that he was there to help them, even if they couldn't see him.

Sit up, Annabelle. I'm going to pick you up. Be very quiet.

One hand took each of her arms and guided them around a neck she could not see. "Why are you wearin' a blanket?" she asked as the fabric of his cloak brushed against her shoulders.

Sometimes I get cold at night.

"Even in the summer?"

Even in the summer. He gently stroked her cheek and wiped away her tears. Now, you need to be very quiet so those bad men in the next room don't hear us. I'll bet you're tired.

She nodded.

He rocked her on his arms, projecting a very gentle hypnotic relaxation into her with his powers as he did. You probably didn't get your nap, either. Poor thing. Lean on my shoulder and go to sleep. And when you wake up, you'll be back with Mommy and Daddy.

She yawned, then snuggled against his shoulder and went to sleep.

The Shadow sighed with relief. Now to get past the men out front. He gently pulled the pistol out of its holster under his left arm and slipped it into the belted waist of his overcoat within easy reach, then secured his grip on Annabelle and draped his cloak over her.

She clutched the edge of his cloak in her hand like a security blanket and snuggled against his shoulder again.

(Art by Jill Thompson)