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fantasyyluvr · 1 month

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Hey, i read the “Bat-boys finding out your pregnant” and may i ask for more? It was sooo cute that i need more of it 😭💕

The Batboys fathers HCs

A/N: this request is long overdue that I’m sure the requester doesn’t even remember it, but I’ve arrived at last. I hope this is what they wanted. The Absolute Power run has restored my love for Nightwing and comics. ❣️

Dick Grayson is a fun dad. At first, Dick suffocated beneath the weight of fatherly duties. He wanted to be better than Bruce. Dick loved him, but he could admit that his boyhood wasn’t a salubrious environment for the young mind. No child should have to carry the weight of Bruce’s mission. Thus, Dick’s mission became ensuring yours and the baby’s lives were secure, safe, and joyous.

Pale beams of sunlight kissed your cheeks good morning. The aroma of maple syrup wafted throughout the house, tickling your nostrils as you carried yourself down the stair steps, footfall by footfall. There Dick stood at the stove, scooting the black spatula beneath a golden pancake and flipping it into the air, causing your baby to burst out into a fit of giggles before the pancake hit the skillet with a sizzle. He was proud of himself for making his baby laugh.

“Well, well, look at mama.” A grin crept across his lips as he spotted you creeping closer, supernovas bursting in his electric blue irises.” You were snoring in a pool of drool when I awoke, so I grabbed the baby and started breakfast.” Vibrant seas of pacifiers, rattles, and toy pianos adorned the house.

Dick attempted to rush the developmental process. Not out of callousness, but sheer excitement to have a child. He had already stocked the baby in dolls, trucks, pacifiers, fruit snacks, apple juice (watered down, of course). He even installed a nightlight that short circuited the house at first, but Bruce helped him fix it. Reading is good for the baby right? Dick is on it. He’s already ordered the best and most classic tales; Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, Alice in Wonderland, Dr. Seuss, Little Red Riding Hood.

Dick Grayson has read multiple novels on fatherhood, motherhood, child development, postpartum depression. He hates surprises, and babies are the breeding ground of surprises. He will pack the go-bag full of onesies, pacifiers, diapers, wipes, toys because he doesn’t want you to be in public and not have the materials.

“Give me a few days to install the new changing table. You’ll love it.” Crimson blush adorned his tanned cheeks, a proud grin dawning on his lips, showcasing his pearlescent teeth.” It broke when I weight checked it, thank god. Damian, albeit reluctantly, is coming out here tomorrow to translate the instructions.”

Jason Todd is the protective, paranoid father because he’d placed a bullet in the worst humanity had to offer, witnessed otherworldly horrors done to the little guys, the folks who lack billions of dollars to hole up on secluded islands and cabins. He can’t eradicate all the scum, can’t caulk the fractures villains seem to keep slipping through—and that terrifies him.

Jason never imagined a life worth living to be possible. He’d thought himself a sentient zombie, an unlucky boy yanked from the eternal peace of a cold, soundless grave and forced to enact vengeance on behalf of the common folk who lack the means to undertake the mission themselves. He never considered Red Hood to be a hero; merely a restless phantom with nothing else to bide his time until the sweet release of the afterlife deigned to shatter his manacles to the mortal world. That was until he’d fallen over the sun, offering endless devotion to his goddess, and you’d rewarded his offering with a daughter, a lovely girl. He’d abduct the moon and wrap it in a silken bow if only you’d give him permission.

“Catch, papa,” your daughter had called out, retrieving the little football and sprinting toward him, tiny feet carrying her over the damp and verdant grass of y’all’s backyard. Jason never brought the both of you to parks—an excess of people to watch, different personalities and behaviors; a myriad of possibilities for tragedy. Too much room for error in a vast, leafy expanse.

“You’ve gotta bring it to me first,” Jason called back, outstretching his muscular arms, awaiting her arrival. He was paranoid and distrustful of the world, not a killjoy. Y’all’s daughter’s bedroom was littered with vivid nail polishes, fluffy scarves, glittering tiaras, and Monster High dolls. Your daughter had always adored Frankie Stein and Frankenstein because they reminded her of Jason and herself, the dolls and humans both sharing pale white streaks of hair. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or weep upon hearing those words from her lips, innocent and completely unaware of the accuracies spanning far past hair color.

“Jason, I love you, but we are not cooping ourselves up in the house this summer.” The words were firm and unyielding—but lacking any true bite.

“ I’ve given you grace. I let a lot slide because I understand your background. But we’re just not doing it this summer. Its too hot to not go to waterparks and enjoy ourselves because of possibilities.” A damn good point rested upon your tongue, and he knew it.

“Fine.” He relented with a jocosely petulant huff.” But we take a gun with us.”

Tim Drake is an ambitious father. It’s been said before, but I don’t believe he’s as active as the fandom would believe. Though, his absence isn’t born of malice or indifference, but ambition, a thirst for a legacy. He wants to be a man his significant other and child can be proud of, a father worth bragging about. There’s also a large chamber seated within his mind that knows not how to be a father, for his parents were cold, choosing to throw dollars at his gripes and needs rather than be present.

One of his greatest fears is disappointing the both of you, like he was disappointed by his own parents, so disappointed he couldn’t even despise them. Tragically, the mission to avoid history’s repetition had placed him before a mirror, his parents gazing back at him, a smug smirk curled on their lips because they know that he’ll be on their end of the glass within a few decades.

Can he be blamed? Tim wants the absolute best for his family. The best grades, the best schools, the best scores, the best scholarships. He’s not naïve enough like Dick to believe hard work and persevere can lift a nobody anywhere. There are no bootstraps to be pulled taut. It’s an illusion, a sauce wealthy people spoon over their meals to disguise the taste of nepotism and privilege. Manipulations the rich regurgitate to excuse themselves from having to acknowledge the unfair, biased system they’ve upheld.

The door to his limousine slammed closed, his child seated beside but, but farther than ever. What could be said? Jerking forward, the limousine rolled into drive, coasting beneath autumn streaked clouds, as though her father had gifted her the sky from a florist. Bruce hadn’t prepared Tim for the teenaged terror years. He couldn’t help but wonder if he himself had been this capricious and fickle as a teen, or if he were merely that bad of a father.

“Do. . . do you want a Milkshake? From that one place by the house, like we used to when you were young.” Tim couldn’t help but raise a hopeful raven shaded brow. He could smell the stench of sweat, an anxious perspiration, cleaving to your school uniform. It must’ve been a test day.” I’ll clear the rest of my schedule for us. . . if you want, of course.” He extended an olive branch, granting her the choice to engage and accept, or set the course for the rest her teenage years.

Damian Wayne does not want children. He doesn’t know how far his taint would bleed, and all he can envision are the ways he could disgrace the mind of a child. His village was rotten and evil. Bad fruits bear worse seeds.

Damian’s devotion was love, the purest kind he knew, a primal desire to protect and cherish that of which he adored. You forged suns in his heart, set the butterflies in his belly aflutter. Beneath a weeping of sheet of violet sky, the both of you had sworn to love the other until Earth imploded—and when it did, he would find you in another universe.

He doesn’t hate children. In fact, he would be a decent babysitter for Dick and Jason, and whenever Tim deigned to grace the BatCave with his presence. But, Damian is staunch in his childfree attitude, and you respect it. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure you wanted kids. No, you and Damian battled crime, traveled the world and experienced culture, learned histories outside of the filth pumped into his mind by the Al Ghuls. Bruce was saddened by Damian’s decision against children, but he ultimately respected it—and him.

Damian knew he was poisoned and rotten and always would be, no matter what emblem was sewn over his breast. He was content with the life the both of you had, and knowing Dick, many more children are to come, so he’d never get lonely.” Beloved, what do you make of Italy? Not the tourist parts where the history is washed, but the ripe lands.”

Bruce Wayne is a weary father. He knew the birth of his youngest child was redemption, his last chance at preserving the Wayne name since Damian had sworn off children. But Bruce was aged, hardened, jaded, weary. He had scars to last a lifetime, some worn on his heart, though majority were worn on his skin.

The Wayne brownstone was eerily silent since Alfred’s death. Bruce’s son sat around the oaken table, coloring a picture of Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, and Alfred. Bruce’s heavy lids fell over exhausted, dim blue irises, his brain flitting back to the memories of Alfred, gathered at the stove and learning a recipe. I am. . . old, Master Bruce. My time on this earth is not infinite. You must learn more than the ways of fists, the words echoed in his mind. Reminding him that old age wasn’t even the murderer of Alfred Pennyworth.

He fetched an inhale before pulling himself off of the couch, and padding over toward his son at the dinner table.” What’s that? Oh, a pretty picture. A real artistic talent, like Damian.” Bruce was unsure of his fathering more often than not. He knew how it appeared to his son’s school counselors and the principal—old, washed up playboy Bruce Wayne saddled with another young son. That was far from the case, but the masses will believe anything when they’re given nothing.

Bruce fetched a pot and skillet from the creaking cabinets of the brownstone, far from the elegance and cleanliness of the manor. Alfred would’ve been mortified to see the mess, he almost chuckled, but withheld it. Lest his son raise a question, for the explanation would be too complicated and long-winded for his young mind.” So, what do you see for dinner tonight? What makes that belly growl like a lion? Mac and Cheese? Lasagna? Hamburger Helper?”

Bruce knew exactly what his son would choose. Asking was merely a courtesy. Bruce knew him, raised the boy from the minute he was weaned. He knew what his son would do before his son knew what he himself would do. The Batman wasn’t a slacker, wasn’t lazy.

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robinsfilm · 2 months

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FURRY NEW BEGGINGS

navigation ; masterlist.

pairing : jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

summary : In which the cat distribution system catches up to you and Jason.

warnings : no serious warnings, just alot of fluff and a short lived (or not) rivalry between the cat and jaybeans.

word count : 1k.

notes : switching up the theme a bit, can't always find those pretty headers. wE NEED A NAME FOR THE CAT!!!

The first time he saw the cat, Jason was returning home from patrol. The rain was pouring down in streets, and he hurried through the storm, eager to get back to you as quickly as possible. The weather made everything difficult—the buildings blurred together, neon signs became unreadable, and the sounds of the city were muffled through his helmet.

But despite the downpour, he didn't miss the small spot of light orange in the corner of his eye. It stood out against the dark, murky colors of the alley it was huddled in. Nestled in a small, soggy cardboard box between two trash bags, something shifted.

What's that?

Jason knew he needed to get home. He was freezing and bone-tired, but his curiosity got the better of him.

What's the worst that could happen?

Turns out, the worst that could happen is making a new, vicious enemy out of a stray cat.

Jason landed swiftly in the dark alley, the shadows swallowing up what little light there was. He approached the cardboard box cautiously and gently lifted the lid, unsure of what he might find inside.

The first thing that caught his attention was a pair of greenish-brown eyes staring back at him, followed by the sight of ginger-striped fur. The creature let out a small, plaintive mewl.

Oh, it’s a cat.

In the box sat a big, angry orange tabby. A very angry orange tabby, actually. The cat gave him a fixed, piercing stare, its fur and tail puffing up as it let out a throaty, warning meow.

Jason instinctively raised his hands, palms open, to show he meant no harm, but it was too late—the cat swiped at him with a paw, claws fully extended!

"Alright, I got the hint! No need for violence, little guy. Well—not so little. I mean, just look at you." Jason chuckled softly, trying to diffuse the tension.

The cat's ears swiveled backward and flattened against its head, its body puffing up even more as it attempted to make itself look bigger, more intimidating.

"Okay, okay. I’ll leave you to... whatever you’re doing."

*****

The second time he saw the cat was when he was with you, just returning from a grocery run.

"Who even says that to a worker? It's not like they set the prices," you huffed, recounting an incident at the 7/11 you both had just visited. An old lady had been loudly complaining about the cost of a few products, taking it out on the poor cashier behind the counter.

"I know, baby, but you put her in her place." Jason wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "So, don't worry about it anymore."

"You're right, it's just—" Jason’s ear tuned out your next words as a familiar spot of light orange caught his eye. A pair of greenish-brown eyes glared at him menacingly.

No way... it can't be the same cat...

"Honey? Jay? What's wrong?" you asked, turning to him, trying to catch his attention.

"Huh? Oh, yeah? Sorry," Jason replied, snapping back to reality with a smile. "Something just caught my eye." But when he turned to look again, the cat was already gone.

Annoying little bastard...

"What did?" you inquired, glancing around to spot whatever had distracted him.

"An orange tabby cat that I’ve apparently started a rivalry with." Jason deadpanned.

"You started a what with a what..?" you stammered, clearly confused by his response. But Jason just grabbed your hand and quickly led you away.

*****

The third time he saw the cat was in his apartment. In his goddamn home.

Jason dropped the bag of snacks he’d just bought from the corner shop out of sheer shock. How did the cat find him? Had it followed him? Was this how it spotted him last time near the grocery store? What was this cat’s plan?

Just then, you rounded the corner, emerging from the kitchen with a small bowl of wet cat food in your hands.

Your face lit up when you saw him. "Welcome back!"

"Hi, baby. Who’s this?" Jason pointed to the cat, now holding its tail high with a slight curl at the top. The cat purred softly as it rubbed its head against Jason’s boot.

"Awh! Look, he likes you!" You beamed, your face lighting up with a smile. "Is this the tabby you were talking about? I can’t imagine him being evil at all, isn’t that right?" You squealed with delight, setting the bowl down near the cat.

The cat slowly blinked at you before cautiously approaching the bowl and taking a tentative bite of the food.

Jason tried to ask how the cat got in, where you found it, and why you let it in, but you shushed him.

"Did you just shush me?" he muttered in disbelief, half-laughing.

"I think it’s fate!" you exclaimed. "You found him, he found you, and now he’s here! He belongs with us. Please, Jay, can we keep him?"

Now that was something he never thought he’d hear. Usually, it was Damian asking Bruce to keep some random animal he’d found—not as a pet, of course. Oh no, not at all.

Jason stared at the tabby for a few moments, then at you, with your big smile and pleading eyes staring back at him.

Crap, this is hard. No wonder Bruce never says no to whatever Damian drags into the house. Jason still remembers the cow...

"...Fine."

"Yay!" You celebrated with a little hop.

"How did it even find us?" Jason eyed the cat suspiciously.

"I’m not sure. But you’ve got to get used to him. I think he likes you!" you said as the cat wobbled back over and rubbed its head against Jason’s boot again. "See? Isn’t he adorable?"

Jason sighed softly, then gave you both a small, reluctant smile. "Yeah, he’s a little bit cute, I guess."

"Oh, I almost forgot! We need to name him."

Jason grumbled under his breath. This was going to be a long week—but maybe, just maybe, it might be a tad bit happier than the previous ones.

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angelyuji · 6 months

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smart, genius yanderes making their obsession feel stupid and dumb so they rely on them for everything???? bimbo reader is one of my fav tropes becuz... i am stupid :)

tw // yandere content, emotional abuse, just being mean, yandere stuff u guys know the deal

constantly belittling you, demeaning you, as a way of lowering your self-esteem. making you second-guess everything you do as a way of making you depend on them for the simplest of tasks. snapping at you and immediately turning around and comforting you.

"don't be stupid. you should know better than that." he snaps, snatching the pen from your hands.

"what? what did i-" you feel your face heat from embarassment.

"(y/n), this is a job application." he snatches that paper from your hands.

"i know what it is..." you try to reach for it, but he holds it away. "i just want to help you."

"help me? i don't need your help, (y/n)." he grabs at your hair, pulling you off your chair to the ground. you yelp in pain as his fingers tangle in your hair and yank at your scalp. "why would they hire you? what qualities do you have that they would want? you're an idiot, a fucking idiot. you can barely cook a decent meal without my help." his voice was laced with venom. you feel tears slip down your face.

"i'm sorry." you meekly whisper. "you're right, i'm too stupid." you choke out a sob. he smiles before shushing you, letting go of your hair. he sits down next to you and pulls you into a hug. you melt into his touch.

"it's okay, that's why i'm here. to take care of you."

definitely: spencer reid (post-prison), bruce wayne, tony stark, 707, elias bouchard, gojo satoru

maybe: dick grayson, sam winchester, charles xavier, jason todd

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klemen-tine · 6 months

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Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 3

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking, Partner Abuse

Part 1

Part 2

@problematicreblogger and @wpdarlingpan Since you guys wanted to be tagged lol

+++++++++++++

Y/N sat in the bathtub in the guest room. It’s been three days since they arrived, saw the photos, and the creepy trophy room. Three days since their conversation with Dick, finding out that they had all been on their terrace and taking photos of them. Stalking them.

They wrapped their arms tighter around their legs, resting their chin on sharp knees and staring at the porcelain tiles and gold facet. Three days of walking on egg shells, somehow managing to evade most attempts in hanging out with the siblings and Bruce, and only really seeing them at meals. Y/N hasn’t built up the nerve to ask about the trophy room, but Y/N knows that everyone in the house knows that Y/N knows of the two rooms. They know of the photos, the ones taken without their permission or knowledge, and the clothes that have redefined their modeling career.

Sighing, Y/N stared at their pruning hands and the now cool water. The bubbles dissolved a long time ago and the essential oils had become diluted enough that the scents no longer permeated the air.

Finally dressed in a robe, lotion and oil on their skin and face and teeth washed, Y/N exited the bathroom and screamed at the sight of Jason on their bed. In the midst of their panic they threw the brush at the larger man, who caught it skillfully.

“Wha-what is wrong with you? No-wait, why are you in my room?” Y/N walked around the large bed to where all their clothes are kept. Their eyes not leaving Jason’s imposing figure that was currently resting on their bed.

“I knocked.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “I didn’t ask if you knocked, why are you in my room?” Jason shrugged, “Just felt like I haven’t talked to you in a bit.” Jason and Y/N’s relationship was like that of dragons in the old ages. Full of history and non-existent.

Jason was already dead by the time Y/N had entered the Manor. A small body buried in the Wayne gravesite. In hindsight, Y/N’s timing had been awful. Moving in when Tim basically forced Batman to take him in as a Robin, Dick’s and Bruce’s relationship had worsened, Jason was dead for about a year, and Alfred had still been grieving. Truly a terrible time to join a family. Y/N could taste the tension when they had first moved in, and they understood immediately that they were just another unneeded burden.

A 13-year-old Y/N cried in their bathroom, mourning their mother who had loved the fame more than them, the friends that loved Y/N for Y/N, and the life on the West Coast that they were now expected to continue on the East Coast.

The unfairness of it all.

“What do you want to talk about?” Y/N asked, rummaging through the drawers and finding a nice shirt and some nice jeans.

“Hmm, oh you know, the casual how are you doing? How’s the model-life? Any fun stories you have? What have you been doing lately?” Y/N started changing in the bathroom, keeping the door cracked so they could hear the questions.

When Y/N reemerged, now fully dressed and the robe hanging on the back of the door, they smiled at Jason, “I’m doing good, kind of tired but that's to be expected because of the ‘model-life.’ The fun stories I have are more of traveling around the world and seeing different cultures and eating good food.

“As of late, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat.” Jason’s brow raised, “You travel though.” Y/N nodded, “Yeah, some models travel with their pets and I think that's what I plan to do. They’re easier to travel with than a dog, and I don’t think a dog would like my condo.” Jason nodded, “You could always leave it here. The little spawn would take care of it.”

“I can’t do that to the family. It’s my pet and should be my responsibility.” Jason hummed, “Is it because you don’t want to visit?” The air stilled and blue eyes met E/C. Jason didn’t look bothered, if anything he seemed relaxed about the whole thing, “It’s fine if that's the reason. I hate being here too.”

Jason came back as a dead person Y/N knew not to talk about. From the stairways, they would watch Jason storm out after a bad argument with Bruce. Unable to completely understand what exactly was going on, but from the hushed conversations they knew it was something they didn’t want to know about.

“I don’t hate being here, I just don’t have reason to visit other than Alfred.” Jason continued to stare at them, “Not even for ‘family.’”

“Jason, when have you ever looked at me and saw a sibling?” Jason didn’t banter with Y/N, never showed interest or any inclination that Y/N even existed. Y/N is pretty sure that to Jason, Y/N is just a stranger living in the manor.

Y/N wonders if they will see Jason’s temper. Will it appear like the monster hidden in the closet, waiting for the right time to lash out at anything? Y/N has heard the screaming matches, the threats, the holes in the walls from Jason. For someone who has killed people, Y/N wonders if they should really be mucking around with Jason.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that had other priorities. Once upon a time, Jason was the youngest and loved by Bruce, but then younger Robins came. Jason died, and while never replaced, Robin was.

When Y/N looks at Jason, they see the middle child of a family that Y/N is not a part of.

They are not siblings. Not cousins, relatives, they are not even friends. Barely acquaintances if Y/N is honest. Which is fine. Y/N has gotten over the hurt and feelings of loneliness.

It is just Y/N against the world, with Alfred partially in their corner. Not fully. Never fully because Alfred will always be in the Wayne family’s corner, and Y/N is not a Wayne.

Jason sighed, “Mmm, I guess that night when you took a beating from that one dude for not getting in the car.” Y/N paused in brushing their hair, mind reeling and slowly turning their head to look at Jason who was instead picking at his nails. Y/N opened their mouth, but Jason beat them to it, “You went out partying, like almost every high schooler does, and your boyfriend was drunk.”

“Just get in the car, Y/N!”

“No! You’re drunk and you said you’d stay sober!”

“I am sober, now get in the fucking car!”

“Fuck off!” A 15-year-old Y/N stormed off, turning their back to Marcus Dueller, the then jock of the school. A rough hand grabbed their shoulder and a fist met their face, “You don’t talk to me like that.”

“...Marcus wasn’t my boyfriend.” Jason didn’t show any signs of hearing Y/N, “You took a pretty bad beating, I’ll admit it. I was going to step in once he started choking you, but you took that brick to his head pretty hard.”

Blood splattered across Y/N’s face as Marcus collapsed. The hands around their neck loosening and Y/N took deeply needed gasps of air. Their throat aching and lungs burning as they rolled over onto their hands and knees. Tears pricked their eyes as the pain and realization settled in.

“I called his friends. He was fine, just a concussion.” Marcus and Y/N never talked again, and Marcus’s friends took one look at the bruises on Y/N’s face and neck to understand what had happened.

They all stayed Marcus’s friends, because unlike Y/N, Marcus was loved by his family.

“Then, you walked your beaten ass towards the liquor store.”

“Oh my God! Y/N!” Stacey cried out in shock, and she gently cupped bruised cheeks and watched split lips grow into a smile.

“Can I have that bottom shelf vodka please?”

“Bitch, you need a second shelf from the bottom vodka.” They sat outside of the store, Stacey’s partner taking over the counter as she watched Y/N take swig after swig from the bottle. Her concerned eyes tracing over each and every bruise and cut, down to the clothes they were wearing and scrapes in their knees and hands.

“How many does this make?”

“Seven. Whoever said seven was a lucky number is a liar.”

“Oh Y/N, why do you keep doing this?” Y/N gave Stacey the most beautiful they could muster. Not minding the ache in their cheeks or the burning of alcohol on split lips.

Looking back at it, perhaps Y/N was on a downward spiral. Trying to find love in other people that weren’t the people at home. From ages 13 to 15, Y/N had dated over 9 people. Not one of them made it past two months, and none of them were healthy.

Once Y/N got into modeling, all their attention went into it. Dating and friends were on a standstill as their career and education became a priority. Maybe that was another thing Y/N inherited from Bruce, a known serial dater. Although, Y/N knows for sure that their taste in partners was definitely inherited from their mother.

Some of Y/N’s earliest memories are of M/N getting berated and smacked around by men bigger than her. When they would leave, Y/N would emerge with bandaids and tears on their face. M/N would smile at them, blood from her nose painting her lips red and she would cup soft cheeks and whisper in their ears-

“Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Y/N glared at Jason, who was meeting that glare head on. Now that they are older, Y/N has learned to hate that phrase. They have watched numerous models be in kind and gentle hands and still be beautiful. Still have a loving and healthy relationship with themselves and the other.

Now that they are older, Y/N knows how untrue those words are. Yet, who said those words had to only be applied to romantic partners?

“Now here you are, in your glass castle imitating diamonds.” Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Always the poet, reading the classics.” Jason shrugged, "Someone has to be literate in this messed up family. Sure as hell ain’t Bruce.” Y/N rolled their eyes, “So what? That still does not explain anything. More importantly, why now then?” Why was it now that they decided to make a move if they had supposedly been caring for a while now.

Jason smirked, "Because finally, Bruce sees it too.” Y/N narrowed their eyes and watched with pursed lips as the bigger and stronger man got up from the bed, and walked over to them, “I’d wear comfortable shoes, Y/N. You’re going out with Bruce and the little spawn today.”

“Wait, what do you mean Bruce finally sees it too? What is there to see?” Jason smiled at him, and it looked more of a monster preening at it’s prey. Callused hands reached up and traced the small, almost invisible scar on Y/N’s upper lip.

“Make sure you smile, the vultures will be there too.”

++++

“I do think green will look best on you.” Y/N smiled at Damian, “Green looks good everybody, Damian. You just need the right shade.” Between them was an emerald green silk shirt, the price displayed like a bounty and Y/N wanted to walk out of the store once they saw it. Yes, they made a lot of money, but Y/N also knows what it means to be frugal.

Damian raised an eyebrow and continued to judge the piece as if it had insulted the family. Y/N set the shirt down and continued to peruse the aisles. Their eyes looking at all the clothing and trying to predict what will be in style. What could they use to match or create their own trend? It is still winter, meaning layers will still be necessary but how to make a stylish outfit when there needs to be layers.

“Do you see anything you want, Y/N?” They jumped a bit, and whirled around to see Bruce smiling at them. Those blue eyes, intense like winter rivers, roamed over what Y/N was looking at and he raised a well groomed eyebrow, “Do you want that one?”

“N-no, no thank you. I’m just looking.” Bruce hummed, and wrapped a large arm around Y/N’s bony shoulders and brought them close. He pressed his lips against his temple, an unusual act of affection towards his kids but everyone will chalk it up to Y/N being a model and still young. Bruce whispered against Y/N’s skin, “Just let me know what you want, and I will get it for you.”

‘If I want to be left alone?’ Y/N didn’t voice it, but they didn’t have too. Bruce’s grin was sharp, “Within reason, Y/N.” A chill ran down Y/N’s spine and they swallowed down the bile threatening to come up.

“I have money, Bruce. I can buy my own stuff.” Bruce picked up a shirt, “Let me spoil you. It is what parents do.”

“You already paid off my condo, that is good enough.” Bruce continued to smile, “That was for the birthdays and holidays I missed while you were with us. I still have to make up for the time when you were with your mother.” Y/N wanted to scream, “How about you donate that then?”

Bruce smiled, “I already do. Let me spoil you.” He kissed Y/N’s temple once more before walking away, eyeing everything the way designers did when critiquing their pieces. Y/N had a feeling that if they didn’t get something from here, the store would be paying the price. Grabbing a sheer halter top and pair of black high waisted pants, Y/N let Damian throw the green top on the small pile and made their way to the check out. The cashier smiled nervously as the Wayne family stood in front of her.

True to Bruce’s promise, he paid for the three articles of clothes, the pair of shoes, the jewelry, the accessories, the–

“I think that is enough.There are a lot of bags, and while I appreciate it, I really don’t need anymore stuff.” Y/N placated Bruce and Damian, already picturing the amount of trips it will be to take everything back home. The man seemed satisfied though, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, “If you insist. How about some lunch now?”

Y/N wanted to decline. They wanted to go back to the manor and get away from everybody. The feeling of walking on eggshells and constantly being watched had their skin crawling and the need to take another bath. Bruce wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought them close, and Damian took up their other side.

“You’re acting more as a bodyguard than a father it seems.” Bruce smiled, “We’re having a nice family outing. I’d hate it if one of your ‘followers’ interrupted." Y/N furrowed their brow, but they could not stop their body from tensing, “Someone is following us?”

“Unfortunately.” The photos they saw in their old room re-emerged and a feeling of dread seized their muscles, making them lean further into Bruce. Yes, they were once all Robins, but not once in those photos taken from their terrace was there ever a reflection of the Bat.

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ll make sure they won’t take any of you.”

“How… how do you know its not you they want a photo of?” Bruce smiled, guiding them into a fancy restaurant, Damian requesting a table away from the windows, "Because they all know not to follow me.” There was something akin to a warning in Bruce’s voice that had Y/N biting their lips and following the wait staff quietly.

Y/N watched as Damian and Bruce conversed casually, well, as casually as Damian can be. The topics went from school, a family named the Kents, and future prospects. Damian was still unsure about what exactly it is he wanted to do, and it most likely didn’t help that Tim was the one who was going to take over Wayne Enterprises.

Y/N continued to eat and sip their tea, not wanting to add to anything as their mind wandered. After talking to Jason, it proved to Y/N that they were somewhat always being watched. Jason bringing up that one specific memory may have made Y/N’s heart rate spike, but it did prove that Jason was there. The photos, all of them that were taken without Y/N’s consent, show that everyone had at some point gained interest.

However, why did they never act on it? Why wait until now to do something?

‘Bruce finally sees it too.’ Y/N’s jaw clenched, what does Bruce have to do with any of this? Could they not interact without Bruce’s permission? Alfred would never allow that.

Would he?

“What do you think, Y/N?” The question jolted Y/N out of their thoughts and back into reality. Looking around the table to two expectant gazes, they gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I was thinking about something, what was the question?”

Damian scrunched his nose, “What is there to think about when you have blood-related family members in front of you?” Y/N blinked in shock, and then remembered how much blood meant to Damian. They shrugged, “I have a busy schedule coming up.”

Bruce stabbed the piece of steak with the silver fork, “You do, don’t you.” He stared at his child, one who he has left to their own devices and now is estranged from the family. Always keeping them at arms length, and never looking back to see if they are behind them. Not because Y/N trusts them to be, but because Y/N was used to them not being there.

Y/N, for how proud Bruce is of them for standing on their own, is still naive. Still innocent. They didn’t notice the paparazzi lurking around, or maybe they got so used to them they learned to block them out. None of it sat right with Bruce. Those should have been things he taught Y/N. Things to prepare Y/N for a world that was bathed in camera flashes and gossip. How to look out for themselves. How to defend themselves, and what to do in case there is a stalker. Those should have been at least a fraction of what Bruce taught them.

Yet, he never did any of that. Looking at Y/N sitting across from him, sitting tall and with a closed-off expression, had Bruce frowning. Y/N was still polite, smiled when they needed to and engaged in conversation, but there was still a wall between them. Almost like glass. Bruce is able to see everything and hear almost everything, but his ability to interact with his child is limited. All interactions stopped by the wall of glass put up by Y/N themselves.

It's a good thing that Batman breaks glass windows on a daily basis.

“You have some shoots in New York, will you be visiting afterwards?” Bruce watched Y/N’s eyes widen and lips pursed. He could see the breaking point, cracks spreading throughout the glass as Y/N’s mind tried to wrap around the question.

“How–”

“Is it odd for a parent to know their child’s schedule?” Y/N blinked, and processed the information. A tight smile formed on their lips, “How long have you known my schedule?” Bruce took a bite of the steak and Damian continued to eat his plate of some fancy pasta.

“Now Y/N-”

“How long have you known my schedule?” Damian glanced up, irritated at their father being cut off, but the look on Bruce’s face had him settling down. The man was smiling, non-threateningly but all Y/N could see was the Bruce that had stood before them in the changing room after Gabanna’s runway show. The same eyes, full of intentions that had Y/N shivering and the money, power, and background to act on those intentions.

“Like I have said, Y/N. I am making up for the lost time and neglect you have faced within our home.”

“And I have said, Bruce, there is nothing to make up. That still does not answer my question about you knowing my schedule.” The cracks were spreading, chipping away and becoming weaker.

“What parent doesn’t know-”

“Don’t repeat that sentence. Bruce, you know what I am asking and you keep avoiding it. Who told you my schedule?” An emotion other than faux politeness finally filtered into Y/N’s voice, making the question sound firm and unlikely to bend or be swept away with Bruce’s elusivity. He smiled, “Oh Y/N, did Maya not tell you? GLM Agency has been under new agency since last year. Wayne Industries is now the parent of GLM Agency.”

Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, their pretty face twisting as the words registered with them. Everything crashed on Y/N, like glass shattering and bathing them in their shards. The guest room that is identical to their bedroom at home, the clothes that are from their closet, the two rooms full of their photos and mannequins wearing their iconic looks, that fucking Batman-inspired piece of clothing.

“Y/N.” They’re walking away from the table, head lost in thought and body moving on autopilot. The need to get away from everyone was overpowering the logical part of their mind, and Y/N is walking towards the front door of the restaurant. Pushing the glass doors open, and being bombarded by flashes from cameras.

“Y/N, what do you have to say about your mother?” A 13-year-old Y/N was guided out of the condo by police officers. Eyes rimmed red from crying and their only source of comfort was the blanket they managed to snag before being escorted out.

“Were you aware of your mother’s drug-use?”

“Are you on drugs?” A 17-year-old Y/N walked past the paparazzi, keeping their eyes forward even though they wanted to snarl at that person.

“Y/N! Look over here!”

“Look!”

“Over here!”

A large hand gripped their arm guided Y/N through the crowd and towards the parking lot where the car was. The large body blocking the photos and shielding them from the flashing of cameras that had thrown Y/N back in time. Once inside the safety of the metal box on wheels, Y/N became aware of their rapid breathing and the feeling of their heart pounding. Irregular beats and sweat began to form on their skin as they struggled to take a breath. Just one breath.

The hand that had guided them to the car grabbed their wrist and placed it on a large and firm chest, emphasizing the deep breaths that Y/N needed and wanted to take. Rough fingers gently traced their cheek, up to their ear, and then to their hair. Gently bringing Y/N back to the present.

“Shh shh, it’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe.” E/C eyes drifted around the car, and closed once they saw the person’s reflection.

“Father, those vermin have been cleared. All of them will be getting in trouble.”

“Thank you, Damian.” Y/N rested their head against the glass and fought down the need to jump out of the car. Bruce eyed Y/N, and what made it worse was there was an apologetic look on his face.

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I thought Maya had told you.”

“Seems like your manager isn’t doing their job if you didn’t know. You should get a new one.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Y/N mumbled, feeling a headache forming and they wanted nothing more than to curl under the covers and die. They could feel Damian’s pointed look through the seat, “Maya is a great manager. She will not be replaced.” Damian sneered, “She didn’t even inform you of the change in ownership.”

“Because it does not concern me. As long as I am able to get booked and get to my destinations, it does not matter who is in charge.” Y/N paused, “Although, now it looks like nepotism.”

Bruce huffed at his child’s overdramaticness, "It's not nepotism. I had no say in what shows you did or who booked them.”

“But you had a say in what clothes I wore.” Ice filled the car and Bruce gave Y/N a long look.

“Just that one piece, and I asked her to do it. She didn’t have to do it.” Y/N laughed, long and hollow as they turned their head to Bruce, “Of course she had to do it. Bruce Wayne is asking for a commission piece, who would turn it down without risking their reputation?” The man sighed, “Y/N, I submitted a commission piece. That is the only thing I had a hand in throughout your modeling career.”

“Others won’t believe that.”

“Who cares what others think.” Y/N whipped their head around to Damian, “I do. I do a lot actually. I care a lot about what my fellow models say and think about me.” The boy rolled his eyes, “Why? Their opinions don’t matter.”

“And your’s do?”

“We are family!”

“By blood, yeah! That’s as far as it goes.” Damian looked ready to snarl out more remarks, but the abrupt parking of the car had both of them pausing. They were already at the manor, and Y/N wondered just how fast was Bruce driving to get them here so quickly.

Y/N was quick to jump out of the car, “I will grab those bags later. Please don’t make Alfred take them.” Bruce followed, “Y/N.”

“No! No, ‘Y/N’ or anything. I want to be left alone.” Y/N pushed open the manor’s front door, and they wonder how many times they have snuck in and out of these doors before. Was it really even sneaking out if someone knew?

“Y/N, we need to talk about this.” There was something in Bruce’s voice that stoked the right ember within Y/N’s chest. Whipping around, they glared at the two Waynes, “For fuck’s sake, I just want to be left alone! I was fine with how things were. None of this-this- whatever the hell this is!

I was fine on my own. I was fine without you guys. I would have been fine if you stayed away!” Bruce didn’t even look bothered that Y/N was yelling, in fact the asshole looked relieved. He gave a patient smile with fake concern in those blue eyes, “The thing is though Y/N, you never should have done it on your own.”

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Where the hell did all of this even come from?! This… this sudden need to be part of my life? You’re not even being subtle about it!” They were drawing a crowd, but Y/N couldn’t even bring themselves to care.

“I keep telling you, it does. Not. Bother. Me that you all were inattentive. It doesn’t make me mad, it doesn’t make me upset, it doesn’t stir anything within me knowing you were not there. Yet here you are trying to make it up and all that nonsense, but when I tell you that it's fine you don’t listen!

“It genuinely seems that you are not doing this for me, but to ease your guilt.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, and it appeared they were in their own little showdown. Bruce’s gaze, not showing a hint of anger or irritation at his child while Y/N seethed. For once, Y/N looked liked the wild one in the family. Their teeth bared and eyes full of unadulterated rage, they glared at Bruce with the face of a raging angel.

They hated how Bruce’s lips pulled into a smile, and the feeling of gloating eyes falling on their body from all their siblings. Like they all knew something Y/N didn’t.

“Bruce finally sees it too.”

Y/N pocketed that thought, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down. Nothing intelligent was ever said when angry–

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?”

– Fuck it. Intense E/C eyes landed back on Bruce, “If you bought GLM Agency a year ago, why now?” Bruce continued to stare into Y/N’s eyes, “Because it seemed like you needed a break from Gotham. So, I figured a year away would be good.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, “Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because it looked like you needed a break.” Y/N chuckled, “I needed a break, or you needed time to get those rooms set up?” Bruce raised a brow, but Y/N continued on, “It's one thing to have photos from some photoshoots but not photos taken without my consent. Or the clothes I’ve worn on mannequins with almost the exact same physique as me.”

“They are exact.” Y/N tore their gaze away from Bruce to stare at Tim, the thin and exhausted looking teen standing above them on the stairway. Chapped lips opened, “We used the measurements within the modeling database and created mannequins that have your exact measurements.”

Y/N gaped at him for a quick second before rolling their eyes, “Wow. That’s not helping your guys’ case at all.” Dick approached them, going for a placating gesture and an easy smile, “Now Y/N, I think you might be overreacting–”

“I think I am underreacting to all of this. I find out that you all have been taking secret photos of me, which someone them are from my ‘stalker’ and I don’t really believe that but whatever, you have access to my bank account, you bought the modeling agency I work for, commissioned a Batman-inspired piece, and that you have been keeping some of runway pieces on models that are exactly my measurements!

How else am I supposed to be reacting?! And I still don’t have my phone back!” Y/N snapped at Dick, and then began to rub their temples when the headache got worse. An Aspirin, they need an Aspirin. Now, preferably but Y/N has the strangest sense that even if they did take it, the headache would not go away.

“Whatever, just… I’m going home tomorrow and whatever was bought today just… just ship it. Since you know my address and all that apparently.” Y/N began walking up the stairs, ignoring the panicked looks some of their ‘siblings’ were giving them and the dark look on Bruce’s face.

Dick, ever the peacemaker, reached out, “Wait, you can’t go back yet! You still have a few more weeks before your next shoot. Just stay for a few more days.”

“Add kidnapping and being held against my will to that list too.” Y/N continued walking, feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep. They missed the nod Bruce gave Tim and Damian, and they missed the dark and knowing looks on Jason’s and Dick’s face. The walk back to the room was long, and more exhausting than usual. The events of today caught up to them and Y/N wanted nothing more than to cry, scream, and then go to sleep.

Because why not.

“Y/N, you are making a mistake.” Dick followed after their younger sibling, who only sped up to get away from them. The man grabbed Y/N’s forearm, “Y/N, listen! You don’t want to do this.”

“What is ‘this’ you are talking about Dick? I am literally just going home. It is not a big deal.” Y/N tried to pull their arm away from Dick, but to no avail.

“It's how you are doing it Y/N. All we want is to spend time with you and make up for the lost time!” Y/N wanted to scream at Dick, but held it in and instead gritted out, “Why didn’t you do it normally then? Like… texting or calling.” Dick pouted, those blue eyes looking sad and his lower lip jutting out like a toddler, “We missed you, and we just wanted to see you.”

Y/N’s face was scrunched, their mouth open in disgust, “How can you say that with that look on your face as if you all weren’t the ones who ignored me?” Dick looked heartbroken and some part of Y/N felt bad about that. They remembered the room with the photos and the other side of Dick that they saw only a few days ago. Their body seized in terror, but Y/N tried to keep their expression neutral.

“Look, Dick, once again I am not mad about how my time here was spent. I’m genuinely not. But you guys keep throwing it back in my face and saying such contradicting things, of course I’m going to get upset about it.” They are trying to be civil. Trying so desperately to be civil and it feels like it is not working. Old wounds and painful memories continued to be dragged out of the crevices of their minds like it was some type of zoo attraction.

A 16-year-old Y/N stared at the shattered mirror, tears racing down their face as they stared at their broken reflection. All they could see were the imperfections everyone continued to call out. Comparing them to their mother, to other models, to society’s twisted views of beauty that Y/N is trying to be.

If their mother was alive, would she know what to say? Would she gaze at them with those soft eyes and long lashes, smiling beautifully and whispering, “Diamonds have never been made with gentle hands.” Continuing to remind Y/N that modeling was not a gentle job. It wasn’t a job for those with paper skin or glass bones. Those easily hurt by the meanest of comments, nastiest looks, and the horrendous words never made it in this industry.

Would this have been easier if they had the support of Bruce and his kids?

Labored breaths and broken sobs filled room-turned-practice room as the mirrors caught the sight of a teenager breaking down. Crumbling and shattering under the pressure, pricking their fingers as they cleaned up the broken mirror and picking up their shattered image.

It will be those same mirrors that watched those broken shards form their glass castle, posing as diamonds to deter others from trying to break in.

Y/N continued to walk down the long hallway, ignoring Dick’s calls and locking the door behind them. It was only 2pm, and Y/N had plans to sleep the rest of the day. They had no bags to pack, and nothing here they felt like taking. All they needed to do is sleep the day away, which will be easy, wake up tomorrow, call a cab and skedaddle out of here.

“Thats all we have to do, Y/N.” They closed their eyes for what only felt like a few minutes, until jostling and whispers of their name had them groggily opening their eyes. A yawn escaping them and their eyes struggled to open.

“Why are you in my room?” Tim gave a small huff, “Its dinner time.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow, groaning out a ‘not hungry.’ The young man hummed, “I think you should come down for this one, Y/N. You might get the answers you want.”

“Not interested.” Tim leaned down, his breath tickling Y/N’s ear, “You’re glass castle is shattering, Y/N. Don’t you want help fixing it?” Y/N wanted to swing. They wanted to do something to get their point across that they wanted almost nothing to do with this crazy family anymore.

They opted to glare, and Tim gave a soft smile, “C’mon, lets go eat. Besides, Alfred said that the cab won’t be coming for you if you don’t eat dinner.”

“Alfie!” Y/N groaned into the pillow, and they had stopo themselves from throwing up their arms and legs in a fit. Leave it to Alfred to do something so diabolical. Groaning one more time, Y/N sat up and mentally braced themselves for this shitshow of a dinner.

E/C eyes looked at the door they know they locked, and chose that whatever little bickerment that will start was not worth it at this point in time. Throwing their legs over the bed, they followed Tim out of the room and towards the dining room.

Everyone was there, and waiting for Y/N to appear. Once again, they were made to sit between Bruce and Damian, which they did so with little complaint.

“Now, Y/N, it looks like everyone has some explaining to do.” Y/N gave Bruce the driest most unimpressed face they could muster, to which the man took with a smile, “So, what questions do you want answered?”

‘They’re really doing this.’ Y/N could feel another headache forming, but decided to take the brightly colored bait. Looking at Jason, who was meeting their gaze with his green eyes waiting for this question, Y/N asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘Bruce sees it too.’” The man smirked, meeting Bruce’s eyes and back to Y/N, “Exactly that. The old man finally sees what you are to this messed up family.”

Y/N narrowed their gaze, taking a bite of the pasta, and chewing slowly. Dick decided to chime in, “Y/N, you have been loved by us for a while. Something you probably pieced together, but Bruce took a while to see it because… well because you’re not us.”

“Not like, you’re not Robin, but more like you’re not…”

“You’re fragile.” Everyone’s head turned to Damian, and Y/N had half the idea to be upset about that. They raised an eyebrow, but before they could say anything Damian continued, “You are not meant for this life we lead. Vigilantism never suited you, and that is something I picked up on when I first came here.”

When Damian had first met Y/N, it was like seeing a rare flower that had to be protected at all costs. Y/N was something that at the slightest gesture, could be hurt. When people come across something ethereal like that, the need to protect it can be divided into two different directions.

Hovering or distancing.

Bruce chose to distance himself, whether he knew it or not, and Damian had followed suit. He watched as his older sibling hovered from a distance, watching the rare flower bloom before it was finally the right time to engage with it.

“Y/N, it isn’t so much that I didn’t want to interact with you, it is that I didn’t know how.” Bruce looked into his child’s eyes, “How could I interact with someone who needed gentle hands, when there is not a gentle bone in my body.” Bruce’s hands have broken more bones than the human body has. He has scars on his skin and calluses on the palm of his hands.

“It took me a while to figure out why, but once I did, your absence became suffocating.” Everyone had been gasping for air, doing everything in their power for the slightest piece of oxygen. It was the fear of Y/N being harmed that kept them collared and chained to the photos, every interview, every runway show.

However, Bruce knows that every now and then, children should be able to spread their wings and fall. Y/N ended up flying, soaring above them and never looking back down. Bruce, and the family, decided to give Y/N a year. Just one on their own. This gave them all plenty of time to improve the glass terrarium that they wanted Y/N to be placed back in. This time they will be protected and paid attention too.

“When everyone stated that I can finally see the impact you have on this family, it means I have to come to terms with the fact that I no longer want to be hands off with your life and career.” Y/N’s brow furrowed, not liking the term ‘hands off.’

“You have done great on your own. A fabulous job. Clawing your way up and making a name for yourself, I am so proud of you. Everyone is extremely proud of you.

However, there is no need for you to struggle anymore. You’ve proven yourself, now let us take care of the rest.” Y/N felt shivers go down their spine as they stared at their family in fear. They took in each expression, and when they made eye contact with Jason, the other had a daring look in his eyes. Begging for Y/N to do something, similar to how predators hope for their prey to fight back to make the kill all the more interesting.

“But… But I don’t need your help, Bruce. I can do this on my own.” Bruce’s smile was that of honey, luring in unsuspecting insects and trapping them in its viscous fluid. If Y/N were younger, they may have fallen for it. They may have allowed themselves to coat their fingers in sugary words and sweet gestures, just so they could feel the love from a father.

“I know. We know, but you don’t need to anymore.”

“Now wait a minute-no. No no no no. You can’t just do that, explain yourself, and expect me to just roll with it.” Y/N set their napkin down, and tried to stand from the table, “I don’t need your help, although thank you for wanting to I guess. I am fine with it just being me and Maya.”

“About that…” Dick grimaced, handing Y/N his phone and pulled up was an article.

Y/N’s eyes widened and the world around them went cold. THey looked back up, “You’re lying.” Dick shook his head, fake empathy across his face as Y/N continued to read the article.

“No. NO this is a joke and a terrible one. Maya would never–”

“They were found in her apartment, Y/N.” The headlines, eerily similar to ones from five year ago, flashed across the small phone screen.

Manager of Model Y/N L/N Suspected of Drug Usage

Y/N wanted to cry. Horrible flashbacks resurfacing and tears pricking their eyes. They turned to Bruce who was still sitting and eating his pasta.

“Bruce, please. I know Maya, she would never do this.” The man said nothing. Y/N bit their lip, “Bruce… Bruce please. If its because of what I said then take that out on me. Please leave Maya out of it.

“Please Bruce! I know Maya. She’d never do that, and–and Bruce please.” Y/N was whimpering now, tears streaming down their face as the thought of losing their manager, the last person they had, nearly had them collapsing to their knees.

“Lets make a deal, Y/N.” Bruce wiped the corner of his lips, and grabbed Y/N’s thin wrist.

“You come home more often, during breaks and whatnot. I won’t have a lot of control over your modeling schedule, but make sure you include time each week for family. The only exception is when you are out of the country.” Y/N stared at Bruce in confusion, but nodded along.

“In return, Maya gets out of trouble. Nothing will change other than the weekly meeting with family.” Y/N can’t breathe. They cannot breathe and there were eyes all on them. Gulping down on whatever air they can get a hold of, Y/N sobbed out, “Why are you going to such lengths?”

Bruce stood, and even though Y/N is tall, no one compares to Bruce’s towering figure. He smiled down at the model, and cupped a wet cheek with a calloused hand. Ice blue eyes stared into watery E/C eyes, and that smile turned too sharp to not be hidden blade, “I told you. It is too make up for lost time. Plus, as those photos suggest, you need protection. What better protection could you have that is not only part of the family, but also vigilantes?

“While it is true that diamonds are never made without pressure, diamond-encrusted jewlery require gentle hands and patience.” Bruce kissed Y/N’s temple, and the model flinched away. Ice blue met their eyes once more, “Now pick, Y/N. Either way, you will still be meeting us once a week, but you can have someone you know at your side or someone under my command.”

+++++

“And cut! Good job everyone!” The flashes from the camera stopped and the stage lighting turned off, no longer blinding everyone within the room. Y/N stood up from the red couch, a smile still on their lips as they thanked the photographers.

“Y/N, as always, perfect shots!”

“Good job Y/N!”

“Thank you for doing this, Y/N!” They continued to smile and acknowledge everyone that passed by, Maya right behind as they walked back to the changing room. Sitting on the couch was Jason’s large form and Tim’s lithe one. Both of them looking up as Y/N entered, ignoring Maya’s flinch.

“You have a birthday gala you need to catch. Come on, change out of that and lets go.” Leave it to Jason to get the message across. Y/N nodded, taking to the changing room where they know their clothes are already waiting for them. They could hear Tim interrogating Maya in the politist way. Clipped words and empty praises.

“Y/N they came out of nowhere! They stormed in and went straight to a vent where these-these drugs were! I’ve never even seen those there before! Let alone know that there was a vent!” Maya cried into Y/N’s shoulder as Dick and Damian watched on.

Emerging from the changing room in jeans and a crew neck, Y/N sighed, “Alright, shall we get going?” Jason stood up and Tim shook Maya’s sweaty hand. Y/N gave his manager a nod, signalling for her to take the rest of the day off. Jason’s large hand rested on the small of Y/N’s back, and Tim led the way to the new car that Bruce bought.

The ride was only two hours, filled with light conversation and catching up. Once at the mansion, Y/N greeted Alfred with a hug. Not as tight as they normally are, but it felt wrong entering the mansion without hugging Alfred. Bruce entered the foyer and grinned, hugging Y/N and kissing their temple.

“Your clothes are in your room, and there is another present on behalf of Damian and Jason.” Y/N nodded, “Thanks, Bruce.” The man smiled, “Come and eat dinner when you are done. We’ll have enough time before the Gala to at least eat something.” Y/N began walking away, each step up the stairs feeling like there was lead on their feet stopping them from going any further.

Once in the room, the locked the door and on the bed was a box and black and gold clothing. The black looking like it was made out of silk, and the gold was sequin. Y/N carefully walked towards the box, and when they lifted the lid, a white kitten mewed at them. Their fur still looking young and their eyes bluer than Bruce’s. They mewed and mewed, and Y/N could feel tears streaming down their face.

In neat cursive and tied around the bow of the box, was a small note, ‘We’ll watch her when you decide to leave the country.’

Y/N bit their lip, and felt as if their world was falling a part once more. Broken glass surrounding them and no matter where they stepped, their feet will end up bleeding. Now forced to rely on their family to carry them out of the mess they made, and now… now there was a lifeform that this family can and most likely will use against them.

Thin fingers gently picked up the cat and gave it a wobbly smile, as she mewed at Y/N. A red collar already around her neck, tied in a perfect bow.

“Y/N, the makeup artists are here. Are you ready?” Wiping their tears, Y/N set the kitten down and took in the black and gold piece once more.

“Not yet, but they can come in. I’ll get dressed afterwards.”

“Alright.” The door opened, despite Y/N locking it, and it was Dick smiling as he let in the two artists who were now scrambling to get set up. Blue eyes traveled from the cat, to the clothes, and back to Y/N. He grinned and stalked closer to his younger sibling that was now being corralled into sitting in front of the makeup artist.

He picked up the kitten and passed her for Y/N to hold, whispering in their ears, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

Honestly... I really like this series. I think I'm going to do other stories but in the other characters POV now.

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #batman x reader #bruce wayne #platonic batman #platonic batfam #yandere imagines #gender neautral reader #batman x gn reader #Yandere batman #batfam x male reader #Batfamily x female reader #Batfamily x gender neutral reader

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roses-r-rosie3 · 9 months

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X-Mas list presentation

Batfam x M!Reader

Summary: instead of making a regular Christmas wishlist, the reader decides to make a whole presentation

Quote: “That is all Family! So open up your hearts and your wallets for me this holiday season”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why are you here?” Duke asked Jason.

“Same reason why you’re here, y/n wanted us to all meet up in the living room for some announcement” Jason sighed.

After everyone was in the room, you pulled out your computer and connected it to the Tv, which made everyone confused.

“Hello family, I know you must be wondering why you’re all here” you said.

“Yes”

“Yup”

“Mhm”

“Yeah”

“Can I go back to my game now?”

“Last year you guys totally fucked up Christmas, so this year I put together an entire presentation to tell you guys what I want specifically” you smiled.

Everyone in the room let out an audible sigh/groan. It was known by everyone in the family that you were very dramatic from time to time (24/7). But they never thought you would get this extra!

“Is that really what you called us here for?” Damian grumbled.

“Would you shut up for a second?” You snapped.

“Y/n I don’t think that’s how you should be talking to your little bro-”

“Anyways, Here’s the things you should keep in mind when you’re thinking about what kind of gift you will provide for me this year” you said as you interrupted Bruce from his lecture.

“First of all, I’m the only one who knows how to reset the Wi-Fi, and yeah that’s threat” you threatened.

That certainly got everyone’s attention.

“Secondly, if you don’t get me what I want I will get a sugar daddy, I don’t even care what you guys are going to say, I’ve had so many offers for sugar daddies that it’s unreal. The perks of being son of Bruce Wayne I guess” you said.

“Y/n, you do know that Bruce is rich right?” Jason asked.

“Not the point” you mumbled.

“And third if I don’t get what I want, I will also sell my feet pics online like I did last year” you said calmly.

“YOU WHAT?!” Bruce shouted

“Calm down, I only ended up making about 1 million from it” you sighed.

“ONLY?!” Dick gasped.

“I created a three tier system of different gifting levels, basically, the levels equivocate to how much you love me and how much money you have” you explained.

“Level one is the ‘I’m going to need therapy level’ which is only four to seven gifts. I would probably go into a depressive spiral, actually not probably, I definitely would be depressed” you said.

“Would you stop being so overdramati-”

“I’M NOT DONE YET” you said as you interrupted Tim.

“What would that mean for us? You may ask. It would mean that you would have to pay for my therapy. And the money that you guys spent on therapy would have been basically wasted, you could’ve bought me a whole bunch of gifts right now and avoided the situation” you smiled.

“I think that he’s lost his mind” Bruce whispered to Stephanie.

“You think?!” Stephanie whisper yelled.

“Level two is the ‘You’re getting warmer package’ This basically if you love me- Bruce can you stop whispering to Stephanie” you scolded.

“As I was saying… Level two is eight to fifteen gifts, which is basically equivalent to you texting me happy birthday” you continued.

“Level three is the ‘You’re sleighing it’ level. And if you remember, you guys were just a bit off the mark of hitting this because you guys only got me twenty three gifts. And in order to reach ‘You’re slaying it’ you have to get me twenty five or more gifts, I think this is totally do-able for you guys, especially because you can just use Bruce’s card if you guys are running low on money” you said.

“I have tons ideas for you guys and this whole slideshow is already in your email so you guys can look at it and reference it at any time” you smiled.

Everyone quickly checked their phones to see that you indeed emailed them your whole presentation.

“That is all Family! So open up your hearts and your wallets for me this holiday season” you smiled before leaving the room.

“Yeah he had definitely lost his mind” They all said in synchronization.

“I HEARD THAT!”

#male reader #batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x you #Batfam x batbro #batfam x y/n #batfam x male reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x male reader #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #rosesrrosie3 #holiday special

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dinodaweeb · 1 month

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LIES, SPIES, AND HOT GUYS |

Gn!Detective!Reader x Batman

summary: as a detective you make sure you prioritize Bruce Wayne’s safety but he assures you he doesn’t need it, prick.

You never expected to find yourself at one of Gotham's most glamorous events—a gala at Wayne Manor. Awkward and out of place, you struggle to fit in among Gotham's elite.

The moment you stepped into Wayne Manor, you felt like a fish out of water. The grand chandeliers, the polished marble floors, and the glittering gowns of Gotham's elite were a far cry from the gritty crime scenes and dimly lit precincts you were used to.

Far different. The air felt too expensive to breathe.

Why had you even agreed to this?

Oh right, the Commissioner insisted on having "a few of Gotham's finest" at the event, just in case. And with your gruff demeanor and awkward social skills, you had drawn the short straw.

Awkwardly, you stood near a large ornate column, sipping a glass of water and trying to avoid eye contact with the crowd. Despite the suit and tie—or, in their case, a somewhat ill-fitting tuxedo—they felt utterly out of place. The pants felt too tight around your rear and you got this done at the shop. How could they screw that up?

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail, searching for anything—or anyone—out of the ordinary.

Just as you were beginning to try to relax, you spotted a group of familiar faces. The Wayne kids—Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, and a few others—stood near the large windows, looking far too at ease in the luxurious setting.

Summoning a bit of courage, you approached them. After all, if they were going to be stuck here, they might as well make some polite conversation.

"Grayson, Drake," You greeted with a nod, trying to sound casual but polite.

Dick smiled brightly. "Detective! Didn't expect to see you here!"

"Yeah, well… duty calls, I wasn’t exactly invited by you but..” You muttered, feeling a bit more self-conscious than you intended. Tim gave a small nod of acknowledgment, while Damian looked as uninterested as ever.

Why do you even try at this.

Before the conversation could go further, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Detective, welcome to Wayne Manor."

You turned to see Bruce Wayne approaching, his signature charming smile firmly in place. The billionaire looked every bit the part, effortlessly exuding wealth and charisma.

His looks lived up to the legend, pretty punk.

"Mr. Wayne," You greeted, doing their best to mask their awkwardness. Which probably failed. "Thanks for having me.”

"Of course. I always appreciate Gotham's finest keeping an eye on things," Bruce replied, his tone friendly yet distant. There was a glint in his eyes, something that set you on edge. Before they could respond, Bruce offered another smile, then excused himself, moving on to mingle with other guests.

You watched him go, your brows furrowing. Something about Bruce seemed… off. But before you could dwell on it, your attention snapped back to the task at hand: scanning the room for any potential threats.

As the evening wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You kept a close eye on Bruce from across the room, noting how the billionaire seemed to glide through the crowd effortlessly, charming everyone he spoke to. But that nagging feeling in the back of your mind wouldn't go away.

And then it happened.

A loud crash echoed through the grand hall, followed by the panicked screams of guests. The doors burst open, and a group of armed robbers stormed in, weapons raised. Chaos erupted as people dove for cover, and the orchestra’s music was abruptly silenced.

"Everyone down! Now!" one of the robbers shouted, firing a warning shot into the ceiling.

Instinctively, you reached for their gun, but the crowd's panic made it impossible to get a clear shot. People were scrambling, pushing, and shouting. In the confusion, you caught sight of Bruce Wayne, who had been near the doors moments before. Now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Damn it!

You pushed through the crowd, your focus entirely on finding Bruce. If something happened to Gotham's golden boy on your watch, you would never forgive yourself.

Thankfully, you managed to slip away from the main hall, only to find Bruce backing into a nearby room, the door clicking shut just as you reached it. They shoved the door open and rushed inside, finding Bruce standing calmly by the window, looking far too composed for someone who was supposed to be terrified.

His fingers twitched when he heard the door open though, so maybe he was alarmed. You couldn’t blame him, it was a scary situation for anyone.

"Mr. Wayne, are you alright?" You panted, closing the door behind them and locking it.

Bruce turned to face them, an almost amused expression on his face. "I’m fine, Detective."

"Good. Stay here," You ordered, pulling out their gun and moving to stand between Bruce and the door. "I’ll handle this."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "That won’t be necessary."

You frowned. "What do you mean it won’t be necessary? There are armed robbers out there! You need to stay put, or you could get hurt."

"I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Bruce said, his tone calm and almost… teasing.

The detective’s frustration flared. Here you were, trying to protect this man, and he was acting like it was no big deal. "Look, I get that you’re used to getting your way, but right now, you need to let me do my job!"

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly, the playful glint fading. "And what if I told you that I could handle this situation better than you think?"

You were about to snap back, but the words died in their throat as they realized what Bruce was implying. "You’re not seriously thinking about playing hero, are you? This is my duty.”

Marching up to him, you poked your finger repeatedly into his chest.

“I’m here to protect you, Mr. Wayne.”

Before Bruce could respond, a loud bang echoed from the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps approaching the door. With precision, you pulled Bruce by the waist and forced him behind you. You stiffened, turning their full attention to the door. "Stay behind me."

"Detective—"

"I said stay behind me!" You hissed, cutting Bruce off as you aimed your gun at the door. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins.

The door burst open, and you were ready to fire, but the figure that entered the room made them hesitate. It was Nightwing.

"Hold your fire!" Nightwing ordered, raising his hands as he stepped inside.

You lowered their weapon, exhaling a shaky breath. "What are you doing here?"

Nightwing glanced at Bruce, then back at you. A cheeky glint in his eyes. "I’m here to get him out of here.”

"Wait, you know him?" You asked, confused.

Nightwing’s lips curled into a half-smile. "You could say that."

Bruce stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Thank you for your concern, Detective, but I’ll be safe with him."

You opened their mouth to argue, but the calm, assured look in Bruce’s eyes stopped them. For some reason, you believed him—despite how absurd it all seemed.

But did you seriously suck that much at your job that he felt safer with masked vigilante than a GCPD officer? You felt your pride shatter.

With a bitter taste in your mouth and the slightest pout on your lips, you nodded. Giving Bruce a pat on the back.

Nightwing took Bruce by the arm, guiding him toward the door. "Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe."

You watched them go, their mind racing. None of this made sense. Why would Nightwing, of all people, be protecting Bruce Wayne? And why did Bruce seem so… unconcerned?

As the door closed behind them, You finally allowed yourself to breathe. The realization hit you like a freight train: Batman was out there, hunting these criminals, and Bruce Wayne was likely his next target.

"Idiot," You muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. "Of course, Batman would want to protect him."

Then you felt your heart sink.

“Or harm him.”

But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bruce Wayne than met the eye. Something you couldn’t quite put you're finger on.

As you exited the room, ready to join the fight outside, you couldn’t help but wonder: Just who exactly was Bruce Wayne? And why did they feel like they were in way over their head?

One thing was for sure: you were going to find out.

And when you did, you had a feeling it would change everything.

Red Hood stopped your inner monologue. “Yo, Hey, Dude— C’mon. Snap out of it.”

You blinked, your eyes reaching up.

“Now, are you going to stand there looking like a rookie, or are you going to help me with these goons?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, turning to see Red Hood leaning casually against the doorframe, his helmet tilted slightly as if amused by your daze. You cursed inwardly—first Nightwing, now Red Hood. How many of Gotham’s vigilantes were going to show up tonight?

“You’re here too?” you asked, exasperated.

“Yeah, and lucky for you. Looks like you could use the backup,”

Red Hood quipped, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. “Now, are we gonna take these guys down, or do you need a minute to process whatever conspiracy theories you’re cooking up?”

You shot him a glare but nodded. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Red Hood grinned beneath his helmet, drawing his guns. “Hell yeah.”

a/n: guys, asks r open :3 I wanna write more for my boysss 🫶😔 (no cursed shit plz)

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dead-sane-stuff · 1 year

Text

Just Batfam tingz pt 2 ft: batsis. Or bro 🤷

Jason: I dont wanna talk about it

Dick: You sure? I'm a pretty good listener

Jason: Then why didn't you hear me say I don't wanna talk about it

Source: Young Sheldon

______

*On a mission*

Tim : if this works then this will be the best day of my entire life

Y/n : damn, your life must really suck.

Source : regular show

______

Bruce: Wait you all read (Y/n)'s diary?

Tim : Yeah

Jason: Uh huh

Damian: *Tsk*, what I can stomach

Dick: Oh I just skim through it, to make sure they're not on drugs.

Bruce: W-What does it say?

Dick: It's says "I am not on drugs"

Source: Bob's burgers

____

Bruce : (Y/n) sometimes life is hard

Y/n : Bruce sometimes you're a piece of shit.

Source: trailer park boys

____

*Red Hood on the News *

Red hood: Yep it was tough, but I can't take all the credit I had a little help from two others.

*Nightwing and (Y/n) in the background*: 😀

Red hood: from my left gun and my right gun 🥰

*Nightwing and (Y/n) in the background*: 😑

Source: bob's burgers

_______

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jasontoddslittletoe · 22 days

Note

what if the batboys were accidentally too rough during sex and you tell them after

Aww

Your night was great, amazing even. You were blacked out, little dots covering your vision before your body went taut and you felt a body plop next to you. Post nut clarity hit. Hard. You sat up with an ache in your pelvis, like a cramp but worse.

“Oh my goodness. Don’t ever fuck me that hard again!” You groaned as he slid you into the tub, and joined behind you. “I’m sorry. You should’ve told me during and I would’ve stopped for you.” He kissed your shoulder, rubbing your stomach gently, as if he didn’t fuck the life out of you.

“Didnt want you to stop, hell I didn’t even feel it until 15 seconds ago!” Your head bobbled onto his shoulder with a pout.

“I’ll make it up to you. After this I’ll order your favorite.” And just like that your pain disappeared. Almost.

#batboys #gender neutral reader #batboys x reader #jason todd fluff #dick grayson fluff #tim drake #duke thomas #bruce wayne #dc comics #batfam #not much of smut

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faerieroyal · 8 months

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

thinking about bruce, who always seems to know what you want before you ask for it and will not hesitate to get it for you. thinking about bruce, who although he can sometimes get awkward with physical affection will never hesitate to hold you close if you’re having a bad day. thinking about bruce, who only ever feels soothed after a nightmare if he can call you and listen to your voice, even if he doesn’t always say anything himself. thinking about bruce, who loves having you clean the grease paint off his face when he gets back from a patrol, always craving the gentle way you touch his face in those moments. thinking about bruce, who doesn’t really like his voice and hesitates to sing in front of people, but will do it without question if you only ask.

thinking about bruce, who may be broken and violent and wary of almost everyone and everything, but who has found salvation and peace in you, the person he loves, and who fights with renewed vigor every time he dons his mask and takes to the streets, because he knows he would give his own life just to make the world a little safer for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

the batman taglist: @rebel-spy !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

#— ❥ dolly’s many thoughts !!#— ❥ dolly’s beloveds: bruce wayne !!#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne headcanons #battinson x reader #battinson headcanons #the batman x reader #the batman headcanons #gender neutral reader #(.⋆꙳‧ my works !! ‧꙳⋆.)

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

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Hey I saw you're still taking requests... what about a batman x reader where the justice league meets his wife (the reader) by accident? And maybe they're shocked because he's so secretive and she's really sweet and just the total opposite of him. Feel free to ignore if this doesn't sound interesting to you. I love your writing 💗

Hey! I love this prompt, thanks for sending it in :) I made the reader gender neutral, I hope that's okay!

Bruce Wayne x spouse!gn!reader. No warnings, just Bruce being a little shit (and a sweet hubby).

****

You press your palm to the reader at the entrance of the Cave and jog down the stairs, talking all the way.

"Honey, Alfred and I are going to..."

Six superhero faces stare back at you. Bruce is in the cowl, expression hard to parse. Your brows rise.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know B had company. I'll leave you to it," you say, beginning to back up the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Green Lantern. You can't tell through the mask lenses, but you think he might be zeroed in on the ring on your left hand. "Uh, Spooky? Something you wanna tell us?"

You freeze on the steps. Bruce looks at you, then crosses the Cave in a few long strides. He stops next to you.

Sorry, you mouth at him. He shakes his head and reaches out to squeeze your hand.

"Hold the fucking phone," Green Arrow begins. "You're his—"

"Partner," Wonder Woman says instantly. She sounds pensive. "I have never seen you look at anyone like that, Bruce."

Bruce doesn't say anything, not that you expect him to. You feel him tense.

He'd been content to keep his family as private as possible, and you hadn't minded being kept separate. You know it's out of extreme protectiveness and the fact that you're the only one of the Wayne family who doesn't put a suit on and fight crime.

There's a moment of silence as the League studies you, then Bruce. You smile slowly and wave.

"Hi, Justice League. Nice to meet you all."

"Hello," says the Martian Manhunter, who's probably known about you since you entered Wayne Manor.

"You got married without telling us?" Superman sounds hurt.

Bruce heaves a sigh.

"We got married during the League's infancy. Please spare me the theatrics. Of course I didn't tell you."

"We revealed our identities two years ago!" Superman argues. "You didn't want to mention you have a spouse?"

Superman nods at you then. "Uh, of course, it's still very nice to meet you."

You smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Superman."

"Clark," he corrects hastily. Then he turns to Bruce again, upset flaring. "Bruce—"

"You're upset over nothing," Bruce says. "We weren't close when I got married, and I never found it a pertinent detail."

You roll your eyes.

"B," you say, nudging his shoulder. "C'mon. Try to be a little gentler about this, hm?"

Bruce looks at you. You smile at him and squeeze his wrist encouragingly. He eventually turns back to the League.

"Very well, you're right. Clark, that was harsh of me. My apologies."

The League startles.

"Whoa. Rewind. Hold up. Did Spooky just apologize?" Green Lantern asks. "Did I just get zeta'd?"

Bruce sighs. You stifle a laugh and kiss his bicep. His hand slips to your back.

"Aw, you guys are cute," Flash says jovially. "Congrats, B! Even if it's been almost six years."

Bruce nods. "Thank you, Allen."

"It is incredible how the better half can transform the other," says Wonder Woman, and you preen a little at the compliment.

Clark looks flabbergasted. It takes him a second to speak again.

"Um. That's... okay, Bruce. I forgive you. I suppose you did it out of protection, right?"

"I'm just a boring ol' civilian," you say, nodding. "No powers or years of Krav Maga training here. B worries."

"You're not boring," Bruce says fiercely, quiet enough for only you to hear... and Clark, who has superhearing, and who softens at the statement.

"This is so weird," Green Lantern says, and Bruce glares at him.

"I mean, it's sweet!" he hastily adds. "Uh, you guys are very sweet together, like Bar said. I just feel like I've been mind controlled or something."

"If it was mind control, you wouldn't still be talking," Bruce says flatly.

"Okay, alright, point taken. Shutting up. It's very nice to meet you, though," Green Lantern says to you.

"You as well," you say warmly. "All of you. I want to thank you for looking out for him all these years and bringing him home safe."

Wonder Woman smiles at you. "It is a great honor to fight alongside him. And we are happy he has someone to come home to."

"Seconded," Clark says. "You deserve someone special, B. And I can tell they're just that."

Your face feels warm under all the praise. Bruce is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks again, there's a slight tremor in his voice.

"Thank you. I—they are the best thing to ever happen to me."

You have to kiss Bruce for that, cowl be damned. He meets you gently, and you keep it short but full of love. Flash aww's.

"Well," you say, laughing bashfully. "I suppose I'll let you all get back to work. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. Bruce, I'm going out with Alfred."

Bruce nods. "Call me when you get home."

"'Course, sweetheart. I always do."

You head up the stairs. Flash starts to speak.

"Y'know, I told you all when I got married," he says. "You guys were the first people I told! We didn't even know Clark's identity then. I think you could've loosened the reins, Bruce."

"Yeah, no. You telling a bunch of superhero co-workers is infinitely stranger than Bruce never telling us, Bar."

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x gender neutral reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman x you #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #batman x yn #inbox #blurb

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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year

Text

How You Earned the Respect of the Batfam as Tim’s S/O

Basically headcannons on how the Batfam came to like you

Tim:

• He always thought that you were kind and intelligent

• You knew your worth and wouldn’t take less

• He had dated some not so nice people in the past and seeing you really raised his standards

• You weren’t friends with him because of his money whether your family had it or not

• You weren’t in it for the fame or the attention and you were understanding of him

• He felt comfortable around you like he could be himself 100% without judgement

• You were a vigilante that hadn’t interacted with the Batfam expect for Tim

• You had come from an intense assassin training, similar to Bruce’s but had escaped when you decided that everything was just messed up

• You went to Gotham and used the powers you had to manipulate officials around you that you had parents and weren’t just living willy nilly by yourself

• That’s when you enrolled in school and met Tim and you guys hit it off quick

• Tim appreciated that he could text or call you at any time and you wouldn’t complain or make him feel bad

• It didn’t take long for you to find out that he was Red Robin

• No one on earth texts you at 2am on the same block every night for weeks on end

• He felt like there wasn’t anyone who would ever be there for him like you

• Tim liked that he had the ultimate companion during patrols, even if you hadn’t been revealed to the rest of his family

• You’re skilled and he doesn’t have to worry about you getting hurt during patrol or missions

Dick:

• The first time that you two met was when you rushed Tim to the cave because he had gotten badly injured on patrol

• Tim had gotten shot and broken a few ribs and you hauled it to the cave

• Tim wasn’t really conscious during the ride and wasn’t aware that you knew where the cave was/ the entrances

• Everyone was immediately on high alert when some stranger arrived with a near dead Tim

• Dick knew he liked you when you pulled in, rushing Tim into the med bay

• He saw you holding his hand and wiping his hair out of his face while the bullet was pulled from him

• While Tim was waking up from surgery, you didn’t leave his side and continued to hold his hand

• Dick’s heart was melted- one because his brother had a close call, and two because someone was really, really caring for him

• He had seen Tim’s exes and hated them, but he knew that you were different

• You were easy to talk to and respectful to everyone

• You had an agreeable personality and really seemed to care for Tim

• When Tim woke up, he saw how Tim immediately squeezed your hand to make sure that you were there

• After spending time with you that night, seeing how you took care of Tim, and how Tim interacted with you, Dick knew he liked you

Bruce:

• Bruce saw you coming into the cave like a bat out of hell with Tim and was immediately on guard

• How does this random person know Tim’s secret identity, how do they know where the cave is, WHAT’S WRONG WITH TIMMY MY SWEET CHILD

• After the rush of getting Tim’s situation under control, he also noticed that you never left Tim’s side

• So he knew that you two were in a committed relationship, however, that didn’t mean that he trusted you

• Bruce is a hard case to crack, it really takes some time for him to warm up to anyone

• It was probably a few months into you and Tim hanging out around the manor when you attended a gala with Tim that he really started to trust and or likely you

• Tim was really stressed and didn’t really want to be at the gala

• You were with him the entire time and didn’t leave, even when the paparazzi and media were all being rude

• It’s a very normal thing that the tabloids exploit anything that happens in the Wayne family and you were like fresh blood

• You were poised, collected, calm, and totally indifferent to the comments

• He knew that Tim hated the media and seeing you calm him down and pull him away from some non obligatory meeting with idiots made him feel like he could trust you with Tim

• Not that he’ll admit it

• He notices that whenever you’re around, it seems like Tim has a weight lifted off his shoulders

Alfred:

• He was the one that helped extract the bullet from Tim’s abdomen so he met you along with everyone else

• I’m sure he knew that Tim was dating someone, but this was the first time he had met that person

• Alfred is a very kind and respectful man

• If he really doesn’t like a person, they know it

• However, if he doesn’t yet know, he treats them formally and without a personal relationship aspect

• He knew that he really liked you when one night, during a busy week of extra crime, you had hauled Tim into bed, forcing him to sleep and shut away his electronics

• Alfred was behind on some housework because of the hectic monitoring schedule and went to bed early

• You stayed up and did the rest of the chores he needed to have completed

• You had always helped out in little ways like cleaning up after yourself (the boys are incapable sometimes lemme tell you, you’re a blessing simply for being normal), you’d make Tim clean his room, and you’d make sure that everything was better than how you found it

• He was so grateful that you had taken time out of rest and decided to help him during a time of need

• It was something very genuine to him since most of the people that the batfam bring home wouldn’t do something like that either out of fear of messing up or indifference

Jason:

• Jay really wasn’t that difficult to crack

• I mean he’s got a rough exterior but ultimately, he just wants to see Timmy happy

• He knows about Tim’s exes and hates every one of them

• Makes sure that you’re not going to blindside anyone with something you have hidden

• Now what really, really gets him to like you personally was when you had come into the cave with a menagerie of weapons to have cleaned, polished, or sharpened

• Tim was sitting at the computer doing work and you were working on everything else

• He didn’t realize that you were really serious about the vigilante life until he saw you hauling all that mess in

• He realized that you came from a tough background and had grown up and out of it

• These things that happened to you didn’t define who you were and he liked that about you since he had a struggle with that- basically he lives vicariously through you at times

• When he sat down next to you with his gun collection to clean and polish, you struck up conversations on Jane Austen, weapons, crazy childhoods, pop culture classics, and random assassinations that ended up being one of you

• He just thinks that you’re cool and chill and that’s good enough for him

Damian:

• Also wasn’t really that hard to break

• I mean you were known as the greatest child assassin and he looked up to you when he was little

• Concerning but that’s how it is

• He recognized you immediately and kept a distance

• Star struck Damian Wayne

• Questions how Tim was dating you

• He knew that he really liked you when his pets liked you

• It’s cliché, but the quickest way to Damian Wayne’s cold little heart is through animals

• You helped him train and walk Titus

• Pennyworth liked to sit on your shoulder and survey the house as you walked around

• Damian was the only other person whom Pennyworth would do this with

• Damian was just bamboozled

He also likes that you’re not some mindless idiot

• Most of the socialites that he has to hang out with are zombies who feed off of dollar bills and designer drugs

Cass:

• Is very, very protective of her family

• She is not one for outsiders and makes sure to know all the weaknesses of new people

• The problem is that she’s having trouble finding your weaknesses

• Tim is obviously one of them, but your stance, your fighting, your regular self just seems indestructible

• She knew personally that this came with tons of training and discipline

• Cass really starts to like you when you notice that she’s not really verbal

• You knew sign language and immediately just start signing to her instead of talking

• Cass really appreciated that you were comfortable getting on her level without second thought

• You watch out for everyone in the family and she feels like she’s not alone in her worries

• You’re basically like a new sibling for her

• You and Cass have a tight bond, the kind of relationship that if you and Tim broke up, you’d still be besties

• She knows that you’re reliable and will never try and use her

• That’s all she wants

Stephanie:

• I think Steph would be easy to get along with

• Like you really gotta suck for her to not like you

• Steph really likes that you’re a relatable person

• You don’t act like you have a stick stuck up your butt and you’re not dramatically brooding at everything

• Steph really started to like you when one night the two of you stayed up after everyone went to sleep

• You two talked about life over some homemade cookies

• You two talked about your favorite celebrities, movies, pet peeves, tv shows, the reality tv show drama, and anything that you could think of

• Now you’re somehow besties with all of the Wayne girls and it’s great

• She also likes that you can lovingly boss Tim around

• There aren’t many that can do that and it’s pretty apparent

Babs:

• Alfred was out of town the day that she started to really, really take a liking towards you

• She was always a cynic for some part, but she started to casually warm up to you

• Saw you as Tim’s s/o and not really a friend

• This was until you noticed that she looked really stressed managing the surveillance by herself without the help of Alfred

• You stayed behind for the time that Alfred was gone and helped her run everything

• She was worried at first since she wasn’t sure that you’d be good at computers

• You really happened to impress her though and that won her over

• You were easy to talk to and it also wasn’t awkward when there was just silence and nothing to talk about

• Babs thinks she felt her heart patter when you very sternly talked Jason down from throwing Damian off a building (regular occurrence)

• “JASON PETER TODD IF YOU DON’T PUT THAT CHILD DOWN AT ONCE I WILL PERSONALLY HAUL YOUR ASS TO THE BANK BUILDING AND CATAPULT YOU ACROSS GOTHAM, DO YOU UNDERSTAND”

• She was like 😏

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secretsandwriting · 6 months

Text

All Because of One Lie

A Bruce Wayne x reader

You weren’t quite sure what was going on. One minute you’re headed to cause some problems, seconds later you’re making out with Batman. They guy who had tried to put you in prison multiple times. To make it more confusing, he started it.

Shortly after it started it ended with Batman just leaving.If that was a new plan to get you to stop causing problems, it worked. You went home. How do you even proceed after that? The next day you saw the headlines, made an assumption, and went about your day, because what else were you supposed to do.

BATMAN CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH ANTI-HERO MONSTER. IS ANTI-HERO PINK VENOM LYING?

Last week, Pink Venom had told the press she was dating Batman. Guess he wanted to end that story but why was it by making out with you?

The next night you went out Robin ended up patrolling with you and when asked by reporters why he was with you he told them that Batman had told him he could only patrol with adults and you were one of the ones on the “safe” list, things got so much more confusing. If it weren’t for the fact you didn’t talk in costume, you would have told the press the truth but you weren’t quite ready to break your silence over this. Besides, it wouldn’t last long.

The next night you were joined by Red Hood who was at least more helpful than Robin when it came to your normal work. You didn’t really like the idea of letting a child kill people even though he claimed he had before. Then the next night was Red Robin who helped you break into a secure building to do a few things. Then Black Bat who followed you around like a quiet puppy.Then Spoiler, she talked the whole time. You didn’t really mind. Next was Nightwing who was like a mix between Black Bat and Spoiler but male. Overall, you were getting more confused every night that passed.

After a week of being followed by random Bats, Batman himself showed up at the end of one of your runs. A quick soft kiss before he left. All you wanted was an explanation! Maybe a reason for why your life was suddenly going sideways. When you got home, you started getting ready to take a shower before going to bed, your jacket was the first thing to go. An envelope slipped out of it and onto the floor. There was nothing on the outside so you opened it and unfolded the paper. 10 $100 dollar bills fluttered to the ground.

Monster

I apologize for any confusion.

Two weeks ago Pink Venom claimed we were dating. Pink Venom is not someone I want to be associated with and none of the press would accept a simple explanation that we weren’t dating. So the next best thing would be to give them an actual candidate. All the others suggested you and since I found you before the other suggestion, we went with you.

Enclosed is $1000 as payment for everything. For every week this goes on, there will be another $1000 for you on that Friday.

Batman

Well, it was an explanation. You weren’t sure how to feel about it though. But the money did help. You did like bribes.

It continued for a month before Batman started staying around longer. He would hold your hand and make sure you got across the rooftops ok. One day he spent his whole patrol with you. You made sure to ignore the butterflies you got when he was offering you his hand to help you across something.

You weren’t really sure how to feel about it, but every Friday you got an envelope and every time he kissed you more butterflies would join the ones already residing in your stomach. Every time Robin spoke about his pets, you caught yourself smiling. Every time Nightwing showed you a new trick he had been working on, you found yourself excited over his accomplishments. Everytime Red Hood talked about the books he was reading, you found yourself making a mental note to look through it. Every time Red Robin had something he wanted to infodump about, you caught yourself paying more attention to him then your surroundings. Everytime Black Bat wanted to show you the new dance she had learned, you caught yourself being entranced by her movements. Everytime Spoiler would go off on a random tangent, you found yourself trying to keep up instead of just nodding.

So when Red Hood mentioned his birthday was coming up, you spent hours trying to figure out what to get him. When he unwrapped the first edition Shakespeare book he had told you about, you found yourself wrapped into a hug, when he parted. You slipped a tissue into his hand before parting ways for the night.

When Robin mentioned he was having trouble in one of his classes, you found and gave him a book about it and didn’t bring attention to the way his hands shook when he realized the book made more sense than his teachers and textbooks.

When Red Robin mentioned having trouble with falling asleep, you brought him the remedy your late grandmother had taught you and made sure he had the instructions list so he could make it himself. When he almost cried in relief the next night, telling you how well it worked, you just accepted the hug and smiled.

When Nightwing asked you how you handled guilt, you listened to him pour out his feelings and the next time you saw him, you gave him a copy of all the books that had helped you. You couldn’t stop smiling when you saw how his relationship with Batman and Red Hood started changing.

When Spoiler had told you about the secret feelings she had that made her feel like she wasn’t girly enough to do or enjoy certain things, you brought her a basket of all the things she had mentioned and held her as she cried through everything she needed to.

When Black Bat was quieter than usual, you brought some snacks and drinks and enjoyed some time just watching the city. You didn’t twitch when she leaned her head on your shoulder. Moving wasn’t an option until she got up. You made sure to ignore the wet streaks on her mask and continue on like normal.

Because somewhere in the few months this had gone on, Batman’s kids had become your own. You celebrated their achievements, held them while they cried, listened to their darkest fears and thoughts, felt pride whenever they did something amazing, and their pain hurt you to see. These were your kids and you wanted the best for them.

Batman started spending more time with you too. After a while you found some charm under all the gruff. When he softened up around his kids you felt your heart race, and the few times he cracked a joke it was a struggle not to laugh aloud.

You were becoming too attached. When this ends you were going to be devastated. It wasn’t just one of them you were attached to, it was all of them. You thought about trying to avoid them but you couldn’t do that to the kids, so you took a night off to think things through and relax.

The next night you went out, you were alone for the whole time. Which had been unusual since this whole thing started. That was, until the end. Right before you started heading home, Batman stopped you. The oddest part about it was that he seemed a little nervous? That couldn’t be right, you were definitely looking into it too much.

“I know this started out of the blue and really wasn’t your choice, but I’ve been enjoying our time together. I was hoping I could convince you to go on a date with me tonight? A real one. We’d keep our masks on but maybe we could get to know each other a little better?”

Oh.

Food was picked up at a random restaurant and and you found yourself sitting on the edge of a building looking over the city. Batman would ask you yes or no questions so you could just nod and then he would answer them himself so you would know more from him. The entire time, you never once revealed your voice and you didn’t feel any pressure over it. It was nice.

One date turned into two, two turned into four, four turned into six, six was when you first spoke and Batman almost choked on his food. Six turned into ten and ten turned into twenty.

Robin started asking for help when he was stumped on his homework, Spoiler came to you with any and all the drama going on in her life, Black Bat came to you when her thoughts were too loud, Nightwing came to you when he needed help figuring something out, Red Hood came to you when he needed comfort, and Red Robin came to you when the remedies didn’t help and he needed a nap.

You were getting closer to all of them. They would come to you for problems or just to talk or walk in silence. You never turned them away and always offered support. Pleading with any being out there that you could stay in their lives forever, as selfish as that request might be. They were your family now, and you never wanted that to end.

You were on a walk with Batman after your meal, hand in hand, strolling the streets of Gotham. You could see people taking pictures out of their windows from the corner of your eye when you were gently tugged over to a stairway to a building taller than all the others around by enough to give plenty of privacy.

“I understand if you don’t want to, just tell me if I’m overstepping. But I would like to go on a date with you. One without the masks where we can talk about whatever we want without worrying about what we give away. The kids love you and I want so much more than this.” He pulled you closer by your waist, his eyes searching yours. “So would you go on a date with me Sunday afternoon at the Italian restaurant on 3rd street?”

Oh.

This was something you had thought about but had pushed away to the back of your head as a fantasy that would never happen. This was something you definitely wanted. Deciding you were at the point where you didn’t care and were willing to make dangerous decisions, you pushed aside the thought that this was a trap.

“I would love to. I’ll be there at 1. What name shall I give them?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him a little closer meeting him in a kiss. He smiled against your lips and when he parted, he said the name would be your favorite color before pulling you back for another kiss.

Sunday afternoon, you found yourself at a private table set for two at the Italian restaurant on 3rd street and 12:59. When the waiter came over followed by Bruce Wayne, you weren’t sure what to think. You stood up and a bouquet of red roses was placed into your arms. You let Bruce pull you into a kiss, immediately melting against the familiar touch.

When you separated, you had so many questions but now wasn’t the time for them. So instead of asking them, you ordered and talked about everything else. Later that night, back in the privacy of the same building he had asked you out on, you would get answers. But for now, you just enjoyed the conversation as it was.

The next day, you found yourself in the headlines again. You liked this one better.

BRUCE WAYNE ON DATE WITH MYSTERY GIRL

Two more dates came and went before you were officially invited to the manor to meet the kids for the first time out of costume. Alfred greeted you when you arrived before your attention was stolen by Damian who wanted to show you his report cards and pets, Jason wanted to show you his book collection, Cass wanted to show you her personal dance studio, Steph wanted to show you her newly decorated room, Dick wanted to show you his acrobatic studio, Barbara and Duke wanted to meet you for the first time, and Tim who wanted to show you his most recent hyperfixation.

Somewhere along the way, Bruce joined you for the tour. His arm wrapped securely around your waist. Once you got through the tour, you made sure to sit near Barbara and Duck so you could get to know them a little better.

The next night you went out, you had Barbara in your ear and Duke making rounds with you. As per usual now, your night ended with a kiss from Bruce.

A month later you found yourself attending Damian’s school concert and sitting between Bruce and Cass, you caught yourself watching only Damian everytime he was on stage. Your hand was gently held by Bruce the entire time. The next morning, you found out Bruce holds your hand in his sleep.

A year later you found yourself moving into the manor. Everyone helped move your things and it wasn’t long before you found yourself comfortably settled in.

Two years after that you found yourself standing at the altar holding Bruce’s hands while you recited your vows. It was quite a story. One you couldn’t tell many, but a good one non the less. After all, you did end up with 7 kids and an extra one who went back to her dad every night, and a wonderful husband. All because of one lie someone else told.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #Bruce wayne x gn reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne imagine #dc #dc x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #dc fanfic

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eyeheartboobiez · 4 months

Text

bruce wayne x gn!reader

a/n: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG PLSSS😭 i really only planned for this to be a couple of hundred words but it ended up being a couple of thousand lmao but i hope you like it🫶🏿

summary: you’ve been stressing yourself over a case at work, leaving your loving husband home alone. luckily, he knows just the thing to help you wind down.

wc: 2.4K

warnings: smut, barely proof read..

Just when you think you've gotten a step closer, you end up taking two steps back.

For hours now, you've been stuck at work, desperately trying to break what may just be the toughest case of your career. The only light illuminating the room was the lamp positioned at your desk, as the office was completely void of life – aside from you of course.

You were supposed to be back home hours ago, yet the pile of reports stacked in front of you was nowhere near finished. The forensic evidence wasn’t matching up with the alleged suspect, and the words on the paper before you got blurrier by the second.

Rubbing at your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh, coming to the devastating conclusion that you wouldn’t be able to solve this on your own. While integrity was one of the most essential parts of the job, a little help from a certain someone couldn’t hurt, right?

However, before you could pick up the phone and call your beloved Bruce, a knock was heard at the door. Who the hell could be here at this time of night? Despite your immense fatigue, you were sure your body couldn’t have gone to the point of hallucinating.

Well you weren’t imaging things, because lo and behold was all six feet and two inches of your husband standing at the entrance.

“You missed dinner, you know.” he said, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway.

He made his way towards your desk, his strides slow but formulated as always. The way he stalked towards you had the likeliness of a predator shadowing its prey. Somehow, the darkness of the room became even dimmer.

You weren’t scared though. Nervous, maybe, but this was your husband after all.

As much as he likes to parade the streets striking fear into the villains of Gotham, you know he was a sweetheart at the end of the day. However, if he couldn’t stand you staying late at work for one night, then he’d just have suck it up and deal with it.

“I know baby, but really, I have to get this done tonight.” you sighed, refusing to go down without a fight.

Stressed enough as is, you really weren’t in the mood to deal with Bruce’s antics right now. Closing your eyes, you put your head down on the pile of papers in front of you, hoping to subdue your worsening headache.

“Alfred even made your favorite.” A pair of large hands found themselves at your shoulders, “He was disappointed when you weren’t at the table, love.”

His digits kneaded at your traps, skillfully working their way into all the knots of the muscle. “C’mon darling, let’s get you back home and fed, ‘kay?”

You let out a deep groan, the tension in your shoulders had dissolved in an instant. Oh you already knew where this was going.

You see, Bruce was a master at the art of persuasion, as if he had the secret ability to make anyone and everyone bend at his will. It was a power that even your eldest son Dick had picked up (to both your delight and disdain).

While you’d usually fall victim to his schemes, now was not one of those times. You were determined to wrap this case up, even if you passed out in the process.

Noticing your stubborn behavior, the dark knight leaned down and began nipping at your ear, “Damian was even hoping you’d make it back in time to say goodnight to him, you know.”

It was a compelling argument, you’ll give him that, but still you refused to submit to his tactics.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you started to get irritated. Why was it so hard for him to understand you were busy?

“Bruce, seriously, cut it out. I gotta stay here and work my way through this evidence.” Lightly shoving him off, you picked up your pen and went back to sorting out the documents before you. Although the break was much appreciated, Bruce was proving to be no help at all.

Hoping he’d actually listened to you this time around, you jokingly made a last remark, “Since Alfred cooked too much tonight, how about you show me how much you love me and go grab me a plate.”

“How about I show you how much I love you right now.”

Before you could even question it, Bruce’s lips found themselves back at your earlobe. Except this time, his small pecks quickly transformed into open mouthed kisses.

His fingers went back to rubbing your shoulders, his workmanship more intense than ever. His fingers stealthily trailed up to your throat, squeezing at the area.

As you felt the pressure increase more and more, you finally became aware of what was happening. This entire time, he had been shadowing you like a wild animal.

And now he was ready to pounce.

“I see how stressed you’ve been recently,” He murmured against your skin, “Do you think I like seeing you exhausted like this, sweetheart?”

Eyes closed, you could do nothing but focus on how he sounds, how he feels. Your chest felt heavy, your mind felt hazy, and you couldn’t seem to get the words out to respond.

“Don’t know how to speak when your husband is talking to you? Guess you must be more tired than I thought.”

“No, Bruce I— ahh!”

Your voice was cut off as his hands began fondling your nipples, the hem of your shirt bunched up at your chest.

“Y’know how much I miss you on nights like this?” he spoke up again, leaving wet, languid kisses along your nape.

“Waiting on our couch, laying without you in our bed, aching for you. Do you actually like leaving me alone like this?”

Your chest heaved at the thought, has he always been this desperate for you? As he continued to ravish you below the chin, your head moved against his lips, mimicking the harsh circular motions of an ocean wave.

Feeling his hand trail lower and lower, your breaths became more and more shallow. Case work be damned, you’d be an idiot to go back to working at a time like this.

“Bruce, this investigation was really important.” You mewed, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“If that’s the case, I think I deserve a little something in return, hm? Lemme look after you, angel.”

With that, you were pulled out of your chair and immediately brought to your feet. Strong thighs pressed themselves firmly against your bottom, leaving Bruce towering over you.

His dominating aura was overpowering, and you were left heaving at the thought of all the ways he could take you, all the ways he could claim you.

All at once, he skillfully moved to pull at both your trousers and undergarments, leaving them pooling at your ankles. “Open your legs for me, love. I wanna see you.”

In all your glory there you were, lying chest down against your desk, pants to the floor, with your beloved husband practically rutting into you from behind.

You habitually arched your back, aching to be filled. Bruce sighed in pleasure, stepping back to take a look at his beloved spouse. Just the sight of you like this damn near made him go crazy.

His hands circled our waist, thumbs thoroughly messaging the small of your back, “I jus’ wanna help you out, baby. Would you like that? Hm? For me to fuck the stress out of you?”

“Yes Sir! Anything you want from me.”

As soon as the bedroom name hit his ears, Bruce let out an audible groan. As many cases you’ve solved in your career, you still didn’t have a single clue of the things you do to him.

Emphatically pulling at his belt, Bruce frantically released his throbbing member from his slacks. Violently spitting in his hand, he began stroking his arousal, lining it up with your tight opening.

He teased his cockhead around the swollen area, his pre-cum painting the heat between your legs. It was as though he was playing with you, as if you were some toy solely meant for his leisure.

Finally, after edging you for what felt like forever, he finally plunged inside of you. His sex speared into you with unrelenting vigor. Slowly, his shaft inched its way inside.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good that you wont be able to get up for work tomorrow,” his husky voice was leaving you in a trance, “Would you like that, angel? For this cock to take all your worries away?”

“Mhm, please sir,” your wanton moans were like music to his ears, as if the pearly gates of heaven were calling his name.

At your request, Bruce’s demeanor did a complete 180. His unrushed pace being switched out for something much more barbaric. Wet smacks could be heard throughout the room as his hips jerked into your swollen entrance.

The table shook at the force of his thrusts, leaving your pencil case to fall as a result. Papers were scattered about, some even sticking to the dampness of your skin. Your hands went to grip the edge of your desk, looking for something, anything to keep you stabilized.

“This is what you’ve been missing out on,” Bruce heaved, “This is what you could’ve had all those nights you decided to stay here and work.”

You practically begged him to slow down, the abuse to your hole was getting to be exhausting, “Bruce, mmn— ‘s too much.”

But your pleas fell on deaf ears, as his girth did nothing but continue its relentless assault. Your moans started to match his movements, pitch getting higher with each thrust.

“Shittt,” the hero groaned, “You're doing so good for me, sweetheart. Jus’ be good and lay there for me.”

His words were lulling you to sleep, that deep, velvety voice paired with his raspy grunts were more than soothing. Your lids started to get heavier by the second, you knew you were close. Any more of this and you were sure to tap out.

Your cheek was pressed against the surface below you. Eyes rolled so far back, it seemed like you could take a peek of your brain if you tried hard enough. It felt like your soul momentarily left your body as you started convulsing below him.

“Sir ‘m gonna, fuckkk, I’m coming!”

“There you go, love. Ease into it for me.” Although you were well over your limit, Bruce’s movements were still as vigorous as ever.

You could tell he was close. As his thrusts got sloppier, your hips dug further into the edge of the desk, leaving marks along the surrounding skin.

“Broosh, please, I can’t ‘nymore. ‘M tired baby.” you babbled. Your barely formed words were only proof of how your consciousness was holding on by a thread.

“Shhhh. Just let me put you to rest, angel. Let your husband take care of you t’night.” Bruce’s cock throbbed, the thick appendage desperately looking for release.

Your entire body was limp by now, overstimulated beyond belief. It didn't even register how lifeless your legs were until you felt two arms scoop you up, hugging your midriff. You could just imagine how insane the scene must have looked, two grown adults humping over a table like a pair of wild dogs.

Eyes shut, you were nearly asleep at this point, the only sign of life from you were the light whimpers slipping past your plump lips. Your only purpose by now was to let your husband use you as he pleased, like some ragdoll.

Bruce couldn’t take it anymore. His movements stuttered as his senses came to a peak, “Mmm s-shit Y/N, just stay right there for me sweetheart, I got you.”

Once again, your insides fluttered as cum coated your heat. You felt his weight collapse on top of you as he tried to collect himself. Feeling him pull out, the thick, white liquid painted your skin as your hole throbbed from the aftershocks.

Bruce’s member continued to pulsate, airy ‘ahs’ nd ‘mhms’ could be heard throughout the room. Bringing you down from you high, you heard a voice speak up from behind you, “You okay, darling? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Mm-mm,” you rumbled, not having the energy to give a real response.

“Don’t give out on me yet, angel,” affectionately rubbing at your exposed skin, Bruce moved to tidy you up, “Let’s get you dressed so we can go home alright?”

Grabbing some spare napkins from a nearby tissue box, your doting husband wiped you down. He made sure to clean up every ounce of the thick cream dripping down your thighs.

Kneeling down, he moved to pull up your trousers, softly kissing the expanse of your legs along the way. You could barely react to his touch considering how spent you were.

As you wobbly stood to your feet, Bruce quickly went to pick you up bridal style, your head slugging against his firm chest.

Honestly, you should have known you would end up in this position the second he walked through the door. As resistant as you were in the beginning, you can help but feel appreciative of Bruce’s actions, the love you have for him growing by the minute.

Unbeknownst to you, however, there was a reason your husband decided to surprise you tonight.

The case you had been working on, well there was a reason the forensic reports weren’t matching up. There had been a new villain roaming the streets of Gotham, and while Bruce didn’t know who he was yet, he knew he was more than dangerous.

As he placed you in the passenger’s seat, Bruce’s mind traveled to all the innocent lives that had been taken by the hands of this corrupt individual. He surely wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you ended up one of them.

Although he admired your determination, the dark knight knew better than to allow the love of his life to follow a path of such evil.

So if this little “distraction” was the only way to throw you off their trail, then so be it.

a/n: feedback is always welcome and reblogs are always appreciated!! ilyyy

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