#bruce wayne x reader

[r-riri]

batboys reacting to you giving them a gift out of nowhere

word count - 916

as usual if you see issues with grammar, you dont

when you came up to him with a small box that had been neaty wrapped in a matte black wrapping paper including a sparkly bow ontop of the gift he was confused for the first thing

he didnt know what to expect and suddenly he was going though all the dates in his head making sure he didnt accidently miss something but even if he somehow did alfred would have told him so for something to have avoided his and alfreds memory would have been shocking in itself

when you gave him the small box and smiling with this cute soft smile that you wore whenever you were proud of something

you usually gave that smile to him everynight when they both were laying in bed and your finger traced his scars that littered his body and he loved it, he loved you

so now he was confused why you were giving him something so out of the blue but of course he took it thanking you deeping claiming that uou never woukd have to give him something like this and that your smile and presences would always be enough for him and for him alone

so when he opened up the gift and looked inside and saw two black clufflinks with a shiny 'b' engraved into the tops of them he couldnt help but smile at them remebering how he talked about needing a new pair for the new suit he got for an upcoming gala and you did it

you were always so caring to him

when richard saw you approaching with your hands tucked behind your back with this smirk plastered on your lips he knew something was up

he eyed your appearance trying to see what you were hiding from him and he knew something was wrong.

when you showed him the medium sized box with black and blue wrapping paper a shining smile graced his face seeing it. he should've know you were up something

dick smiled at you eagerly grabbing the box knowing whatever was actually inside the box he would love and cherish until the day he could no longer cherish them

he carefully opened the wrapping whilst looking up to you watching how youd react as he knew you were always a very facial person

inside the box was something he nearly cried at, inside was a porcelain statute of his dog haley and it was painted to look exactly like her and he sowre in this moment right now he knew he had to make a collection of porcelain statutes of him and you now so that he could make a family creation and put it somewhere he would be able to see everyday

he would then have pulled you into a hug and never would want to let you go as he knew this was his forever.

now this man isnt someone who is well equated with getting gifts so this was something he didn't know how to react to when you gave him a neatly wrapped box that was coloured red and black

at first his instinctive reaction was to smile and thank you before arguing that he didint need anything special and that your love and just pure intentions with him was more than he ever though he would be deserving of him knowing you he couldn't escape this and he has escape many things in his life time before

he begrudgingly he opened the gift and low and behold was something that made he want to curl up and just sit in his feelings and seeing a handmade book and inside were 134 reasons why you loved him and why your pick him in a crowed room before anyone else

he knew you loved him, sure it was something he struggled with but he knew deep down you were gonna vanish on him but it was the small acts like this that reassured him that you werent just gonna up and leave on him

as usual timothy would usually have been found in either his room or the batcave, so when he saw you walking into his room with a red box with a yellow ribbon he was confused

he knew no important dates were today, he knew, he would always know when it came to you, he wouldnt rather you hate him than have forgotten something so important to you so when he saw this safe to say he was perplexed on why

when you gave it to him- more like shoved it into his face he knew you were up to no good so he sighed and slowly unwrapped the box and carefully looked in side and smiled rolling his eyes looking back up at you with a 'are you serious' kinda look in his eyes

instead the box was a framed photo from a newspaper of him at a interview for the latest Wayne enterprises launch and it was of him talking to a newsreporter and he had this lovesick grin and the headline read in bold 'timothy drake lovesick?!' as in that moment he was talking about you since one of the questions asked about how he balances the role at WE and being a 'regular' teen and tim mentioned his lovely partner that he adored

the look on your face had him sighing internally but he knew deep down he never would want anything but this in his life

[sk4rlette8008]

💞💞

#2 Batboys and their text:

[wayneskluv]

Wonder Woman's daughter x Bat-fam - Chapter one

summary: Your mom—Wonder Woman—just dropped you off at Wayne Manor like a kid because she apparently couldn’t find a “suitable babysitter.” Never mind that you’re a fully grown adult and more than capable of taking care of yourself. Now you’re stuck in a mansion full of brooding vigilantes, chaotic adopted siblings, and a butler who’s already silently judging your life choices.

You survived battles, monsters, and Olympian family drama—but can you survive living with the Batfamily?

word count: around 1.6k before i made final touches on tumblr editor

pairing/s: platonic!alfred x reader, platonic!damian x reader (he's a child in this fic!) and then maybe romantically dick x reader or jason x reader perhaps even tim. probably not bruce x reader. if anyone has any preferences, do let me know!

warnings: basically none at the moment. haven't pre-read. no beta, we die like jason todd. damian being a bit of a demon brat. demigod!user.

a/n: all images edited by me! if there’s an artist i haven’t credited, please let me know! i usually get my images from pinterest, and the credit is.. not great. if i’ve written something twice or misspelled something please PLEASE don’t hesitate to tell me. i very much appreciate it. but please be kind! i promise the next parts will be longer, this is sort of an intro into it. even if they aren’t longer, i’ll write a few.

# ── chapter one's POLAROID design - DAMIAN’S:

WAYNE MANOR is.. a lot.

It’s not just the size—though the sheer magnitude of the place is ridiculous—it’s the atmosphere. There’s a certain weight to the air, something woven between the old wood and polished marble, between the paintings of long-dead Waynes and the ever-present shadows stretching down the halls. It’s a house of ghosts, of past lives and quiet grief, but also of something more. Something alive.

You follow Alfred through the halls, the weight of multiple sets of eyes trailing behind you.

“So,” Dick says, effortlessly slipping into step beside you, “how long are you crashing with us?”

“Not sure,” you admit. “Mom was vague. Something about a ‘diplomatic mission’ and ‘needing someone to keep an eye on me.’”

Jason makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “You’re a grown adult. You need a babysitter?”

“Right?!” You throw up a hand. “I told her that. But apparently, my ‘tendency to attract trouble’ means I need supervision.”

Tim, still lounging on the couch with his coffee, raises an eyebrow. “You’re in good company, then.”

“I fail to see why we should be responsible for you,” Damian mutters, arms still crossed. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself. Do you require assistance dressing yourself as well?”

You smirk. “No, but thanks for the concern.” How old was this kid?

Damian bristles. Jason outright laughs.

Bruce, who had been silent up until now, finally speaks. “You’re here. You’ll train, patrol, and follow house rules. No exceptions.”

Ah. There it is. The Batman speech.

You tilt your head. “Define ‘rules.’”

Jason grins.

Bruce ignores him. “No reckless fights, no engaging Gotham’s rogues without backup, and no breaking my city.”

You cross your arms. “Define ‘breaking.’”

Tim groans into his coffee.

Dick pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

You look around at your newly acquired dysfunctional family and resist the urge to sigh.

Mom really did just dump you here like a stray dog, huh?

—

You’re led to your new room—temporary room, you remind yourself—as Alfred sweeps open the door with his usual poised efficiency.

The space is huge. Bigger than necessary. A four-poster bed, heavy oak furniture, a massive window overlooking the eternal Gotham gloom. Everything is dark wood, old money, and class. The whole place smells faintly of leather-bound books and expensive cologne. It’s… nice. In a cold, excessively rich, mildly haunted sort of way.

Alfred clears his throat. “I took the liberty of preparing the room to your specifications. If anything is unsuitable, do let me know.”

Your specifications. Right. You’d told your mom you didn’t need anything, but she must have sent a list anyway, because there’s ambrosia nectar in a crystal decanter on the desk, a thick training mat rolled up in the corner, and a wardrobe that probably contains battle-appropriate outfits tailored to your measurements.

She really did just drop you off and send instructions like you’re a dog.

“Thanks, Alfred,” you say, running a hand over the desk. Solid mahogany. You could probably suplex a god onto it, and it would hold.

He nods approvingly. “Dinner is at seven. I trust you will have no issue finding the dining hall?”

You smirk. “I don’t know. This place is a maze. You sure I won’t end up lost and starving in the east wing?”

He doesn’t blink. “Then I shall inform Master Wayne that a search party may be required.”

Alfred departs, leaving you to take in the ridiculousness of your situation. You sit on the bed—comfortably firm, definitely high-thread-count sheets—and drop onto your back, staring at the ceiling.

Your mother owes you so much for this.

—

You spend the next couple of hours getting familiar with your prison.

It’s quiet for a while. Peaceful.

Then the knocking starts.

“Hey, Newbie.”

The door opens before you can answer. Dick. Of course it’s Dick.

He leans in, all easy grins and big brother energy. “Figured I’d check in. You settled?”

“As settled as I’ll ever be,” you say, sitting up.

Dick saunters in like he owns the place (which, okay, technically he used to). He glances around, nodding at the Amazonian touches. “Mom went all out, huh?”

“She thinks Gotham is held together with duct tape. She’s probably right.”

“Oh, definitely right.”

Before you can ask what he actually wants, another figure appears in the doorway.

Jason.

He crosses his arms, giving you a slow once-over. “So. You’re an Amazon.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Dick chokes on a laugh. Jason grins.

—

The next few hours are a crash course in Batfamily survival.

Tim appears just long enough to tell you that “if you touch my coffee, I will kill you” before vanishing into the night like a cryptid.

Damian tests your reflexes by casually throwing a knife at you in the hallway. You catch it without looking. He says nothing. Just nods and walks away.

Jason decides to test your strength. By handing you a gun. You crush it in your bare hand. “…Well, okay then.”

Dick drags you into the living room for an impromptu movie night. Apparently, it’s a tradition. Jason spends half the movie making snarky Amazon jokes. Damian complains about historical inaccuracies.

By the time dinner rolls around, you’re half-convinced you’ve walked into a madhouse.

Alfred serves a massive feast (courtesy of your inhuman dietary needs). You sit at the table, surrounded by Gotham’s weirdest vigilantes, eating like an Amazon in the middle of a completely normal family meal.

It’s bizarre. It’s horrifying.

It’s… weirdly nice.

Bruce, sitting at the head of the table, barely says anything. He’s watching you, but it’s not that usual piercing Batman stare—it’s more like a curiosity. Maybe he’s wondering what kind of trouble you’ll stir up. Maybe he just doesn’t know what to make of you. You’ve barely had a real conversation with him, just him dropping you here with all the grace of a father figuring out how to deal with his kids’ newest problem. But then again, Bruce Wayne isn’t exactly father of the year.

Dick’s usual charm is in full swing as he tries to make small talk. “So, you’re a demigod, huh? You’re gonna have to teach me some moves sometime. You know, to keep up with all the crazy stuff we have to do around here.” His smile is big, open—like he’s trying to make you feel at home, but you can tell there’s a nervous energy under it. He keeps glancing at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to approach someone who could probably snap him like a twig. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Jason, sitting next to you, shovels food in with no care for finesse. “So, you’re Wonder Woman’s kid. That explains the whole glowing warrior princess thing you’ve got going on. What do you actually do with all that godly power? Sit on mountaintops and brood or do you, like, break people’s faces for a living?” His voice is laced with amusement, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes. He’s testing you.

“You’d be surprised,” you say coolly, setting your fork down. “I’ve had a bit of experience with face-breaking.”

Jason laughs. “Good, because Gotham needs a lot of that.”

Damian, who had been silently poking at his food, suddenly looks up from his plate. His eyes narrow with some strange mix of suspicion and mild interest. “You will be trained, I assume?” he asks, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “Or do you believe that your divine abilities will suffice?”

You almost choke on your drink. “Oh, I’m definitely trained, kid. What, you think just because I’m half-god I don’t need to learn how to fight like a human?”

Damian’s lips curl up into something that might be a sneer, but it’s more like the equivalent of a raised eyebrow from someone who’s always trying to one-up everyone. “I suppose that’s a good attitude, for now.”

You raise an eyebrow back, feeling the tension between you two starting to spark. “Keep thinking that.”

Tim, who’s been glaring into his phone the whole time, suddenly looks up. His expression is the usual deadpan, but you catch a flicker of curiosity. “You know,” he says, tapping on his screen, “if you really want to get the most out of this place, you’ll have to figure out which of us is your mentor. Bruce is… well, Bruce, so don’t expect much from him. But if you’re looking for a solid training regiment, maybe ask Dick or Jason. Just—don’t get too attached to the idea of normal training. This is Gotham, and we all have our… quirks.” He’s about to say more when Bruce interrupts with a sharp look.

“That’s enough, Tim,” Bruce says softly, but with authority. The room falls silent for a moment. Tim’s eyes flicker up at Bruce, then down at his phone. No more words from him.

It’s… strange. You’re used to the chaos, but this feels like a whole other level of dysfunction. They bicker like siblings, but there’s this undercurrent of something deeper—loyalty maybe? You can tell that whatever happens between these people, they’re bound by something stronger than just the weight of their shared lives.

You take a breath and cut in, trying to ease the tension. “Look, I’m just here for the short-term. All I need is a place to crash and a bit of guidance while Mom does whatever it is she’s doing.”

“Short-term?” Damian asks, raising a brow. “How short is short-term?”

You glance over at him, the corners of your mouth tugging into a smirk. “Not long enough for you to start calling me ‘sis,’ if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He glares at you. “We shall see.”

The dinner continues, awkwardly at first but slowly finding its rhythm. There’s a comfortable noise in the air now—the kind that only happens when people are used to each other’s company. And while you’re still very much the outsider in this strange little family, for the first time since you arrived, the weight of the world outside feels just a little bit lighter.

@hjgdhghoe @linnygirl09

[yandere-wishes]

Gotham's sweetheart

-`♡´-Okay, imagine being Bruce Wayne's younger sister. We're talking newborn when your parents died (assuming Bruce is early 30s in this story Reader would be in her early 20s) you're your brother's total opposite, at least on the outside. His innocent bright-eyed kid sister...

-`♡´-That one too many rogues may have a little crush on.

-`♡´-Really it's the innocence. The thing they want to peel away.

-`♡´- That sweet honeydew smile, those big optimistic eyes. That cheery lilt of your voice. It drives them crazy, makes them want to tear you apart. Makes them want to keep that smile all to themselves.

-`♡´- Tommy/Hush has ideas: he dreams of all the horrendous things he wants to do to you while wearing your brother's face. He's had his eye on you since they were young. However there's a part of him that wants to kiss you with his own lips, hold you, and nozzle his face into your neck. To have you play with his hair. To look at him with bright terrified eyes before he kisses you until your lungs exhaust. He wants you to say you love him, to make him feel whole again.

-`♡´- Harvey/Two-face fully believes he owns you: It's not just the darker part of his mind whispering temptations. He's always believed that you were destined for him, always knew he'd be the one to put a ring on your finger and keep you safe. He's sure Bruce himself would have offered you to him before the incident and why should things change now? They're literally your brother's best friend. You belong to the two of them. Their precious princess to cherish and break. They'd both give anything to hear you say their name just once more. With love lacing each letter as your lips grace both sides of his face.

-`♡´- Roman just wants to claim you. Sink his teeth into you and mark you as his. To smear the good Wayne name by making you his little pet. Parading you around public in the most revealing tight outfits, to kiss you while all of Gotham watches. But despite Roman's rather wicked intentions, he still longs to hold you close, you feel the warmth of your body under his. Give anything to kiss you, and tell you he loves you.

-`♡´- The rest of the rogues only know you as Batgirl/(insert other hero name) and all have such a desperate obsession with you. It's hard not to fall in love when you're lying bleeding on the concrete with a broken arm. Only to be cradled in a soft lap promising to get you the best psychiatric help.

-`♡´- Plus you're so utterly kind to them, kinder than Batman and while you are so strong in your own right so many of them would pull out their own hearts and lay it upon your feet for a chance to lock you away and protect you from the evil world. All of them are so desperate for a little kiss from you.

-`♡´- {One day when you're helping your brother drop off Dr Crane at the Asylum you notice how utterly terrified he looks. How his eyes hover on a particular guard with fear glossing over them. Later while Batman talks to Commissioner Gorden, you ask Jonathan what's wrong and reluctantly he mentions how a certain guard (Lyle Bolton) has been abusing the inmates. Your heart shatters for them, you've practically grown up with these crazies (affectionate) you can't bear the thought of anyone hurting them (ironic ain't it) or well at the very least abusing them when they're behaving. You give Jonathan a peck on the cheek and promise to take care of it. And you do, you keep your promise and that Bolton is never seen again. Jonathan is thankful truly utterly he however has to watch his back now because Riddler and Dr.Phosphorus have been giving him death glares all day)

-`♡´- BUT (and hear me out on this) while you might think the streets of Gotham are all so dangerous. Back home isn't any better. Your own brother is too weak to fight the rotting possessiveness that festers within his loins. His tight grip on your shoulder, the way his hugs last externities. He loves you with all his blackened heart. You're the only good thing in his life.

-`♡´- Oh and while we're at it why don't we mention his friends too? The superpowered heroes who think you're the most adorable thing. Who want nothing more than to protect you and feel you between their arms. What about your adopted family who are growing more possessive and clingy by the day? Oh darling it looks like you truly are doomed, to wither away in obsessive love.

Listen this whole ramble came from me being bored in class and daydreaming about wanting to take Twoface, Black Mask, Hush, and Dr Phosphorus on all at the same time. But also having such a weird crush on Bruce Wayne and wanting to subject him to unfathomable tortures (affectionately)

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 13: dinner and a movie?

🔹🔹🔹

“Hello.” an unknown voice calls out to you from the library doorway, you quickly turn and spot a redhead in a wheelchair holding the door open with one arm.

“Hi there, are you one of the befores?”you watch as she wheels herself into the room, the door falling shut with a quiet thud as the carpet crunches softly beneath the wheels. “The befores?” She tilts her head, glasses slipping down her nose a bit before she nudges them back up.

“The people I apparently knew before the attack.”

She pauses at that, before nodding her head. “Yeah, I'm a before. I'm Barbara Gordon, nice to meet you again. Please call me Barb.” She holds her hand out for a handshake which you give, her hold unsurprisingly firm.

“Like wise, I'd introduce myself but that'd be foolish.” You drop down on the couch behind you after the introduction, lightly wincing for a moment. “Funny, are you in pain?” she puts the brakes on her wheelchair beside the couch and pulls a lemonade out, watching you curiously through her lashes.

You shrug before answering, she likes to stare you note. “Physical therapy is a bitch.” You also fell on your side earlier while trying to hold a plank, but that's for you alone to know.

She snorts at that, “oh, trust me I know exactly how much of a bitch it is.” She mutters under her breath, when you glance at her with furrowed brows she elaborates. “Spinal injury, long story.” You nod your head with a small wince, you've had enough of those types of injuries in your life.

“noted, well Miss Barb can I ask what you're here for? Not to be rude, I just don't remember much yet.” You go straight for the point, she seems relaxed but you don't miss how she watches your every move, head quickly turning towards you when you reach for the book you'd been reading when she came in. She's on edge around you.

“Dick invited me over for the movie.” She says casually before taking a loud sip of her drink, the memory of the overly touchy young man nearly makes you roll your eyes, of course he's here-wait… “what movie?” Barb smiles something devious, looking amused with herself for a moment before replying.

“oops, guess Bruce didn't tell you yet. Just between you and me he wants everyone to have dinner and watch movies with him in the cinema room, you included.”

….. What? You give her an incredulous look at that revelation, her expression and body language showing she's serious. “…alright, is this something the family does often…?”

She nods, still looking amused at spilling the tea before anyone else could. She leans closer to whisper conspiratorially to you. “Mhmm, usually it's Duke or Alfred pushing it but I think your man wants an excuse to spend time with you. Just treat him like a boy with a crush, yeah?” “…okay?”

She pats your shoulder almost patronizingly before taking the brakes off and rolling herself towards the door, calling to you over her shoulder as she goes. “I'll see you in a bit, operater!” The door slams loudly behind her.

🔹🔹🔹

dinners awkward, as soon as you’d walked in barb gave you a knowing grin before turning back to her conversation with cass and an unknown blonde girl. the blonde, upon seeing you, hopped up out of her chair and approached you.

“howdy partner.” they winked and gave you finger guns, looking you up and down with exaggerated scrutiny while starting to circle you.

you watch them with confusion, you’re guessing they’re one of the kids friends…

“…hi, we’ve met i’m assuming….?” “yep! call me stephie!” they nod with a smile and loop their arm through yours and pulling you with her towards the table, sitting you between her and dick, great.

the rest of the dinner was spent between two very chatty young people, by the end you understand captain rogers complaints about slang.

you tried to slip away after dinner, you even had the perfect excuse too. you were tired after physical therapy and wanted to crash early, but then you were cornered by bruce of all people.

“….hey, are you busy?” his voice is soft as he approaches you, he leans against the wall with forced casualness and crosses his arms loosely.

you shift slightly as you glance down the hallway and then look back at him, “i was just heading to bed, why?” barbs words echo in your head as he rubs at the back of his neck, is he still nervous around you?

“me and the kids were dogpiling in the screenroom….you wanna come sit in for a bit?” he smiles at you, though you can tell it’s forced. you glance down the hall again, he could invite his affair partner if he wants someone cuddly. you open your mouth to reject the invite when he speaks up again. “you don’t have to watch a whole film, i just think it’d be good for you to be around loved ones right now. maybe you’ll remember something?….” that’s practically a beg, you’re surprised he’s not on his knees for you right now.

just say no, your attempts at blending in won’t suffer if you’re too tired to play dollhouse. “……a few minutes won’t hurt.” why did you agree. but before you can backtrack he exhales and grabs your wrist to lead you, you’re so fucked…

you’re lead through the large house until you reach some kind of home theater room, barb and the two girls are again talking on one of the couches while tim leans against the stephie girl, damian is sitting in the floor with a large dog curled up trying to pretend it’s a lapdog, and dick is watching jason and duke bicker over something in the center of the room.

when bruce drags you in all eyes turn to you, there’s a moment of silence where you’re just awkwardly staring at each other before bruce clears his throat and pulls you further in the room to one of the couches.

“what’s the verdict, who’s picking this time?” bruce glances around as he speaks, his eyes landing on a scowling duke and a smug jason. “i want to watch the godfather again.” duke cuts in before jason or anyone else can. “dude, that was your pick at halloween. we’re not watching it again.” jason rolls his eyes as he walks over to you. “it’s a great movie!” duke calls out defensively as he follows jason.

“how about we watch something more light tonight?” dick tries to mediate, damian scowls up at him from the floor. “no, i’d rather watch the godfather again than sit through one of your disney movies.” dick looks offended at damian’s scoffing retort.

bruce sighs as the bickering morphs before your eyes, “come on let’s play nice, i thought you all had something picked out already?” “i just wanted to watch lord of the rings.” jason crosses his arms as he speaks, stephie rolls her eyes and speaks up from her spot on one of the couches. “you can’t just watch one of those though, we’re not sitting here for nine hours jay.” “you wanted to watch the barbie movie collection at christmas shut your mouth about long movie runs stephanie.”

you drop your head back against the couch while they bicker, bruce slowly sits down next to you at a respectful distance and drapes a blanket over your lap. it feels like he’s trying to keep you there. barb looks over at you with an amused smirk on her face, pointedly glancing between you two before turning back to her conversation.

“enough fighting guys, just pick something please.” bruce pinches his brow, clearly fed up. no wonder he’s going grey.

“how about we let master wayne decide? they should feel included yes?” a voice speaks up behind you all, alfred walking in the room with a sly look in his eyes. you bet he knows you don’t want to be here, he looks too smug as he sets down a tray of snacks and drinks.

the kids all exchange glances and turn to look at you, bruce shifts beside you and turns his head to speak quietly to you. “you don’t have to answer, i know you don’t know any of these movies so i can just pull rank on the kids.” you turn your head to also speak quietly, “it’s fine, i’ll manage somehow.” you glance at duke. “let’s watch the godfather.” you speak loud enough to be heard over the quiet bickering still happening.

duke throws his hands up in victory, “yes! suck it jay.” he quickly dodges the tossed pillow and goes to fiddle with the projector, looks like you’re resigned to sit here for a few hours.

🔹🔹🔹

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Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet @omnivirgo @shirp-collector-of-fixations @spidermanluvr444

[w0rmss]

What do you think a jealous Bruce Wayne would be like? Would he edge reader, or make her come countless times, or would he make her suck him off or a combination? He’d definitely want to remind reader who she belongs to

Thank you so much for the request. I think bruce is a mix of all like he'll edge you for ages before making your come over and over before finally making her suck it off his dick.

Tw: edging overstimulating oral (f and m) p in v older man x younger woman afab reader use of sir / good girl rough throat fucking

Enjoy

Bruce knew it wasn't your fault some man was flirting with you at the gala. Did that stop the jealousy building up and fling all on you. Absolutely not. So now he was here between your legs slupering you up like a made man. He'd been like this for over an hour without giving you release. "Please sir. Please please let me come.. " You whine and tugging at his hair. This only encourages bruce to go faster. ""You think you get to come after what happened. Only good girls get to come baby." You whine as you feel him like a strip between your folds. "Am I not good enough for you. Am I too old for you baby." He looks up at you his face glistening with your arousal. "No sir. No you're sooo good please sir. I'll be the best girl for you please. I'm sorry sir... let me come please sir." You beg, the sight of Bruce's face only making everything worse. But your begging worked to well as you watched him sit up and undo his belt.

Bruce chuckles looking at you whined and shook on his cock. You'd came at least four times now. You whine and gasp bruce keeping your hands above your head. "What baby girl I thought you this is what you wanted." He teases as your cunt tighten around him making you shudder and finish over his cock once again. He pulls out with a groan watching your own fluids drip from your now empty hole. "B..Bruce... you... haven't fin." You gasp out but are cut off by bruce demanding you to. "Get on your knees and open wide."

Bruce cups the back of your head as his thick cock bullies the back of your throat. Precum and saliva drips down your chin and his balls. "That's it baby make it up to me. So good at saying sorry aren't you... took it all like the best girl." He's close you can tell by his babbling. You hum happily around him. "Yes sir." Your words vibrate against his member causing him to groan and shove it to the back of your throat before he spills down it. "That's it baby take it fuck take it all for me. Good girl my good fucking girls." He groans spilling ever last drop down you. You come of with a pop and swallow what was left in your mouth and lick your lips. "Anything to say to me." Bruce asks tilting your head up. "Thank you sir." You purr leaning into his hand. "I'll never make you jealous again." You kiss his palm. "Good girl. I'll go run you a bath." He kisses your forehead and walks to the bathroom.

Thank you hope you enjoyed

Keep requesting I'll get to it eventually

[sirxlla]

Okay I have a request if you could do it, btw I love your bat bros writings

What about how would batboys be if the reader was a tailor?

You're Their Seamstress/Tailor (Batboys)

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

Dick: You had bent over, and since Dick was feeling cheeky (pun intended), he swatted your ass.

"I will choke the life out of you with my tailor tape, Grayson." You smacked his arm with a laugh and a smile.

"Hey, you do it to me all the time and it's not my fault you tailor your pants so well to your body."

You roll your eyes before measuring his hips, having to slightly press your face to his stomach.

"Hey there, do I gotta pay extra or does that come included in my fitting?" He remarks, being a smartass as per usual.

You finished up measuring him and started working on his suit, at some point while watching tv he passed out on your couch. You grabbed a blanket and covered him up before returning to your work tailoring his suit. He had a gala to go to and navy really brought out his blue eyes especially when paired with a baby blue tie. The color combination was so simple but it always made him look so handsome.

"God- Fuckin- Shit! Fuck me!" He had slept for a few hours but woke suddenly when he heard you cuss.

"You okay?" He asked with concern as he pushed the blanket off him and got to his feet before quickly making his way over to you.

"Yeah, I- I'm okay, I just sliced my finger open with the scissors." You got up and rushed over to the sink and let the cold water run over it. Dick was quick to grab the first aid kit to bandage your finger.

"It's alright fingers tend to bleed a lot." He said as he noticed the worry and pain on your face. Dick opened the triple antibiotic that has pain relief, thankfully. He dried your finger, put the antibiotic on it and then the little Spongebob bandaids youd picked out which made you smile. You had always thought it was worth the extra couple cents to get themed bandaids cause they gave a smidge of dopamine as well as protection for your finger. Having Star Wars, Hello Kitty or Spongebob bandaids did a lot to help you and others feel a little bit better after an accident.

Dick kissed your finger over the bandaid as he looked into your eyes. "My- My mom always said if you kiss it, it'll heal quicker. I know it's bullshit but little things like that help a lot when accidents happen." Remembering how his mom would kiss his boo boos when he was a kid, he didnt talk about her much so when he brought her up it was heart-warming to know he trusted you with that.

"Thats why I get the themed bandaids! Its the little trivial things that mean a lot." You smiled as you were so glad he had the a smiliar outlook as you.

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

Jason: It was very unsurprising when it came to how rough Jason was on everything from his guns to his jacket, to his boots so it was almost weekly that you were fixing something of his.

"Jay, how do you even tear this area?" You said as you held up the jacket that had definitely seen better days, a massive hole in the upper bicep.

"Easy, I've been working out." Jason says being a complete smartass, which you suppose is a good thing, considering if he wasn't, you would know there was something wrong with him.

"Hardy Har Har." Giving him an annoyed smirk flipping him off before grabbing your needle and thread. Unfortunately, a lot of the things that Jason needed patched up had to be hand-sewn, and so you painstakingly spent hours fixing any little holes he had.

"Angel, you know that's not nice." He laughs as he quickly quips back at you, sitting in the desk chair next to you, spinning around.

"I know, that's why I said it." You grabbed his chair and stopped him from spinning. "With the damage being the way it is, I'm most likely going to have to hold on to this for a couple of days, but I did work on something for you."

You put the jacket down so you could get back to it later and got up from your seat. Expecting him to get up and follow, but of course, him being him, he decided that it was a good idea to roll the desk chair across the floor behind you. You rolled your eyes and opened the cabinet to a fairly badass and upgraded suit.

"I worked with Lucius to improve a few things; the fibers are thicker but still breathable and light. Kneepads, chest plate, bracers and the helmet is the same design as before, but we added a better filtration system and a heads-up display on the helmet so you can track blood and run an analysis of whatever you need. The cargo pants are more tear resistant, the jackets new material but the old design." You ran him through all the little bits and pieces of the upgrades, and he almost looked in shock.

"You just did this? Like I didn't even need to ask you, you just did... I have been wondering about a new suit." The smirk that always seemed to lace his tone seemed to slip, now laced with appreciation. "How do you know I needed all this stuff?"

"Well, I talked with Bruce and Barbara on exactly what you needed technology wise and then I spoke to Lucius about the way you fight and things that are tearing and such. Considering he's done so much work with Bruce I figured he would know best and we got it figured out. If you end up not liking something let me know and we'll tweak it as needed."

"Holy shit, this is just..." He stands up from the desk chair and pushes it away from him a little bit. The wheels roll against the tile of the floor as he gazes at his new suit. "No, Angel. I have a feeling this is gonna be amazing." He grabs youand gives you a big hug, In this moment he felt so cared for and so appreciated as he squeezed you a little. "You're a goddamn genius, Angel."

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

Bruce: You worked with Lucius on Bruce's suit, working with him on design and functionality. You and Bruce were arguing, the two materials he wanted to pair would make his suit heavy in the rain and he wasn't listening.

"You know what, do it your way, Bruce. Cause you're always right." You stared into his ocean blue eyes with annoyance and anger. Usually those eyes mean the world and could bring you to your knees but right now all you felt was annoyance and irritation.

"I will." He said it with a bit of a smartass tone, he was glad you backed down because he wasnt used to being questioned by anyone.

Guess what happened? The dumbass's suit was too heavy, and he ended up falling off a three-story building.

Thankfully, he's okay but now youre taking care of him. You didn't need to tell him I told you so, he knew he was wrong. While he was passed out in his bed you fixed up his suit and replaced the material that made it so heavy.

Bruce was never one for customizing his things too much but you knew how much he cared about his parents and sewed a small black rose into the undershirt of his suit. It was something he may never see or notice but it felt right considering how often he'd place roses where his parents were killed in Crime Alley, it was like they'd be with him at all times.

Bruce found it months later and immediately thought of you. He'd been thinking of you a lot and he realized how much you truly care about him by doing such little things like refill the water bottles in the batmobile and clean his suit without him asking. He sent you black roses as a thank you so you knew he saw it.

"You do so much for everyone and my family wouldnt be nearly as safe without you. I cant thank you enough. Let me take you out to dinner when you have time. - BW"

Your heart lept into your chest, you and Bruce bumped heads but it was in the same way an old married couple did, you both wanted what was best for the other. Bruce didnt want that other material cause he knew it'd be a pain for you to sew, even if he wouldn't tell you that. You wanted him safe, he knew that but you'd been busting your ass for the whole Batfamily so he asked for the other material even if in the end it did make him look stupid and dislocated one of his shoulders.

So due to that, he could at least get you to take you on a date, he needed a break too and it would be nice to get out and get away from all his kids to spend time with someone he was growing quite fond of.

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

Tim: When it came to upgrading Tim's gadgets it was a pain in the ass because he always needed the newest tech and a way to upgrade it. Fortunately, when it came to the gadgets he handled that himself or he had Lucius help with it.

When it came to the suit itself it didn't need to be upgraded unless it had some serious degradation and it was getting to that point, it had holes and rips everywhere.

"No, Tim. We cant talk about it later." You spoke to him through comms as he was on patrol.

"I'm a little busy." You could hear the wind on his cape as he glided over and through the city.

"You're always busy, Tim. The suit needs upgrades and if we dont get to them now it'll be too late. If you dont wanna miss a night of patrol then we need to do it now."

"Alright, Jesus. Why do you always gotta be right?" He said with a easy-going joking tone as he landed on a roof somewhere and there was the sound of the rain patting down onto his cape.

"So I was thinking maybe some titanium coated armor, it'd be stronger but definitely wouldnt add much weight...then maybe we could keep the boots but the pants wear too quickly-"

"Yeah, all that sounds good. I trust you but I gotta go, just do whatever you want." He said as it sounded like he started fighting a group of thugs. "I gotta go, getting my ass handed to me over here. You know? Normal stuff." He said with a laugh.

You worked like a mule trying to get his suit together, referencing his measurements and the sketch you had done several versions of trying to figure which looked the best and was the most functional. Tim bounces around like a ping pong ball so you just put the new suit in place of the old one so he could try it when he got around to it.

"Hey, have you seen this suit?! This is amazing!" He asked you as if he didn't already know you made it yourself.

"I'm glad you like it." You smiled as you worked on other garments.

"I could kiss you, this is so amazing! I- I- I mean...Um, yeah. Thank you." He says as he quickly leaves the room in his suit before his face matches the red on the new chest piece.

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

Damian: Being Bruce's son meant Damian would regularly have to attend galas. Damian wasnt so rough on his armored suits so mainly he needed to commision you for suits and the like.

He wasn't very talkative or sociable but secretly it was your favorite thing to do to dress up Damian like your own little Ken doll. Of course he'd never tell you but something about you lighting up everytime he needed something tailored just made his black heart just a very shades lighter.

"Mmm hmmm hmmm." You hummed to your music, your headphones on as to not disturb Damian while you fitted him with the new suit you had just finished but minutes before he walked in.

"You know you don't have to do that?"

"What?" You asked a bit concerned that you'd upset him in some sorta way.

"You can play your music out loud. I don't mind." He wanted to let you in and he could see how much you relaxed after he said that.

"I um- I don't know if you'll like it." You said concerned as you fiddled with your tailored tape.

"Well, we don't know if I will if you dont show me." Damian was in uncharted territory on talking to people and getting to know them but this felt good?

"I'm just listening to the Arcane soundtrack for this last season. It was so good." You almost started rambling but stopped, you liked Damian and didnt want him to think you were weird by going off about your interests.

"Yeah, it was pretty good, I really didn't expect that ending..."

"No, No, No! Wait! I haven't finished it. I just- I haven't had the chance. I'm on like episode four or five." You stopped him before he went on and accidentally spoiled it.

"Oh, so you haven't even got to the big parts then..."

"No, I've been working on your suit." You said as you smoothed the suit over his shoulders. The suit is a beautiful deep burgundy, the collars black with a black tie and white undershirt, simple but unique. He looks stunning, your hands held his wrist as you put on his cufflinks for him.

"We'll, I um..." Holy shit he was nervous, he'd not done this in ages...and he was never nervous but he wanted to make a good impression. He took a deep breath. "Hey, why don't you and I watch the last episodes together? Like make it a night tomorrow or something? I mean- Actually... do you have time tonight?"

"Tonight? I thought you were busy with the gala." You asked him, you didnt wanna say yes then make him feel obligated when he was actually meant to be somewhere else.

"I was but Jason and Dick can deal with it. I'd rather spend my night here with you if that's okay." You turned your face away from him as it was probably obvious that your heart was beating in eyes like an old cartoon.

"I'd love that." Your eyes glancing up at his a lot less nervous and a lot more hopeful.

That night was full of a lot of emotion from the show and you ended up a sobbing mess against his chest, thank goodness he'd changed out of the suit otherwise it would be soaked with your tears. He held you all through it and by the end of the night he was sure he was crushing on you.

-> Masterlists <-

[mikyapixie]

8⃞ 🅈🄴🄰🅁🅂 🄰🄶🄾 🅃🄾🄳🄰🅈 🅃🄷🄴 🄻🄴🄶🄾 🄱🄰🅃🄼🄰🄽 🄼🄾🅅🄸🄴 🅁🄴🄻🄴🄰🅂🄴🄳 🄸🄽 🅃🄷🄴🄰🅃🄴🅁🅂 !⃞ !⃞ !⃞

THIS MOVIE WAS HILARIOUS!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[g3tinl0ser]

Masterlist

🦇

im not really sure how i feel about this chapter. i feel like I just rambled on but maybe its good? i kept getting discombobulated. LMK

<<<Previous

The warehouse was dimly lit, the flickering overhead bulbs casting long, jagged shadows along the cracked concrete floor. The air was thick with the scent of oil, blood, and something distinctly rotten. And at the center of it all was you, on your knees, the Joker’s arm curled around your shoulders like a twisted embrace, his knife pressed cold and sharp against your throat.

Batman stood a few yards away, every muscle in his body coiled like a wire stretched too tight. Nightwing and Robin flanked him, their usual unwavering confidence shaken. This wasn’t just another hostage situation—this was you.

The Joker cackled, the sound grating and wild as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Oh, Batsy,” he cooed, twisting the knife just enough to make you inhale sharply. “I can feel how mad you are. This is delicious.”

Batman didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. But under the cowl, behind the cold steel of his voice, he was afraid.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were never supposed to be caught in this world.

“Let. Her. Go.” His voice was a razor’s edge, controlled but deadly.

The Joker sighed dramatically, tilting his head. “Oh, come on, you don’t even wanna hear my big reveal? I mean, I worked so hard to put this little puzzle together. Had to do so much digging.” His grip on you tightened, making you wince. “But I know, Batsy. And so does she.”

Robin—Jason—shifted beside him, his fists clenching at his sides. His father’s tension was infectious, sinking into his bones.

“Ohh, Little Bird,” the Joker grinned, eyes flicking to Robin. “Don’t look so tense! This must be fun for you, right? Seeing Bats all desperate for once?”

Nightwing took a slow step forward. “Joker,” his voice was smooth, steady—practiced, “if you know who he is, then you know you’re not walking out of here tonight.”

The Joker grinned wider, his grip tightening on the knife. “Ohhh, I know that,” he purred. “But the real question is… what’s he willing to do to stop me from spilling?”

Batman didn’t react. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Because the moment he gave anything away, it was over.

Joker laughed again, shaking his head. “See, that’s the thing. You can keep playing pretend all you want, but she—” he yanked you closer, your hair in his tight grip, making you suck in a sharp breath, “—she already knows. She’s seen the man under the mask.” He turned his head slightly, whispering against your cheek, “And tell me, sweetheart… is he as good as everyone thinks?”

The knife pressed just a little harder, a single drop beading at your skin and Batman moved.

It was a blur, faster than the Joker expected—faster than anyone expected. His hand shot forward, grabbing the Joker’s wrist in an iron grip, twisting it back at a sickening angle until something cracked and the knife clattered to the floor.

Joker howled in pain, but his laughter bubbled up beneath it, delighted and manic.

“Touched a nerve, did I?” he wheezed.

Batman didn’t answer. He tore you away from the Joker’s grip, pulling you behind him with a gentleness that betrayed the rage boiling just beneath his surface.

The moment you were safe, the boys moved.

Robin struck first, his blade flashing as he kicked the Joker’s legs out from under him. Nightwing followed up in perfect tandem, slamming a fist into his jaw with enough force to send him sprawling.

Even as he lay there, groaning in pain, the Joker laughed.

“You know I’m right,” he cackled, looking up at Batman with bloodied teeth. “This changes everything.”

Batman loomed over him, fists clenching at his sides.

Then, slowly, he crouched down, his voice dropping to something only the Joker could hear.

“You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

The Joker’s grin faltered for just a second before it was wiped away by Robin’s boot slamming into his ribs.

The fight was over. The GCPD would be here soon.

But as Batman turned to look at you—shaking, gripping the place on your neck where the knife had been—he knew the damage was already done.

This was the first time his two worlds had truly collided.

And it terrified him.

The room was silent as the video ended. The grainy security footage of that hellish warehouse flickered off the screen, leaving only the tense air that settled over the Avengers like a heavy weight.

Natasha’s jaw was tight, arms crossed over her chest as she processed what they had just seen. Steve exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face, while Sam and Bucky shared a look. Thor’s grip on Mjolnir tightened.

And then, of course, Tony broke the silence.

“Well. That was interesting.” He turned away from the screen, pacing slightly before spinning on his heel and pointing at the blank monitor. “She knows who Batman is.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “That’s what you got from that?”

Tony scoffed. “It’s not just that she knows, Red. It’s that she’s obviously close to him. Very close. And let’s not forget who she’s married to.”

Steve frowned. “You think she betrayed Bruce Wayne?”

Tony threw his hands up. “I’m saying it’s convenient, don’t you think? Wayne’s wife gets taken hostage, and Batman just happens to show up? He’s willing to work with us because of her? Maybe Batman has a little soft spot for Mrs. Wayne, huh?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Watch it, Stark.”

Tony let out a humorless laugh, turning back to her. “Oh, come on, Natasha. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it! She clearly knows exactly who’s under that mask, and you’re telling me that doesn’t strike you as suspicious? She gets taken, Joker hints at knowing Batman’s big secret, and suddenly the League is playing nice with us?” He tilted his head. “You sure your friend isn’t playing both sides?”

The slap of Natasha’s hands hitting the table echoed through the room. “You really wanna test me right now, Tony?”

Tony arched a brow, unbothered. “I’m just saying—”

“You’re just talking out of your ass,” Natasha snapped, stepping closer. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.”

“She’s married to Bruce Wayne!” Tony shot back. “You know—the guy funding half the League? The billionaire playboy who’s never been tied down? And yet she’s got some deep connection to Batman? That doesn’t scream a conflict of interest to you. Its not like it would be out of her wheelhouse to sleep above her job station.”

“You are so damn arrogant,” Natasha seethed. “You think you can just say whatever you want and not deal with the consequences? She has been my friend for years. She’s a good person, Tony. Better than you on your best day.”

Tony’s jaw clenched. “All I’m saying is, if she knows, then she’s keeping secrets from her husband. And if she’s keeping secrets from him, then what’s stopping her from keeping secrets from us?”

Natasha’s hands curled into fists, and for a moment, it looked like she was going to lunge at him.

Steve finally stepped between them, holding up a hand. “Enough.” His voice was firm, cutting through the tension. He turned to Tony. “We’re not jumping to conclusions. We don’t have the full picture, and assuming the worst is only going to make things worse.”

Tony shook his head, muttering under his breath as he turned away.

Natasha wasn’t done, though. She stepped forward, her voice lower but no less venomous. “You don’t get to talk about betrayal, Stark. Not after the way you treat people. Not after the way you treated HER! If she’s keeping a secret, it’s for a damn good reason. And I trust her a hell of a lot more than I trust you.”

Tony didn’t reply. He just stared at the blank screen, his mind turning.

Because no matter what anyone said, one thing was crystal clear—

You knew who Batman was.

And Tony Stark was going to figure out why.

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you stood in front of the gathered Avengers, all geared up like they were about to storm an enemy stronghold. Well—except Bruce. At least one of them had some sense.

Still, the sight of Tony Stark standing there, smug as ever in his suit, made your blood boil. If it weren’t for your duty to Bruce, you wouldn’t be here, playing glorified chauffeur to people you could barely tolerate. But this was part of the deal. Part of your responsibility.

Didn’t mean you had to like it.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. “Alright, children, listen up. Everybody grab a hand and hold on tight. No letting go, no wandering off, and maybe hold your breath unless you want to find out what interdimensional travel feels like in your lungs.”

Sam frowned. “Wait, what?”

But before anyone could protest further, you activated the transport. The bright flash of light engulfed you all, and a second later.

You landed in the Watchtower, you had to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep from swaying. You’d done this jump enough times that the nausea barely registered, but some of the Avengers weren’t as lucky.

Bucky gripped the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright, Sam muttered something about “never getting used to this damn space magic,” and even Steve looked like he was recalibrating his balance. Thor adjusted quickly—because of course he did—but Tony, ever the loudest in the room, groaned dramatically.

“Jesus, remind me why we couldn’t have taken a nice, normal Quinjet?”

"Sorry," you said lightly. "I'd say you get used to it, but… sometimes you don't."

Once everyone had straightened up, you turned to lead them toward the meeting room. They tried to take in as much as they could, their heads turning as they walked, but the Watchtower wasn’t designed for easy prying eyes. The halls were clean and sleek, giving away nothing, which clearly frustrated Stark.

“So,” Tony said, falling into step beside you, voice laced with faux curiosity. “Where’s your husband, Mrs. Wayne?”

You knew that tone. He wasn’t just asking where Bruce was—he was implying something. You could feel the weight of everyone’s attention shifting toward you.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate.

"Why?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

Tony smirked, but his eyes were calculating. “Just wondering how much Mr. Wayne knows about how close you and Batman seem to be.”

There it was.

Bucky’s gaze snapped toward Stark, his expression darkening. Natasha inhaled sharply through her nose, already bracing for your reaction. Sam muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. Even Steve looked uncomfortable.

You, however, just smiled.

"You mean the Batman who’s saved my life more times than I can count? The one I work closely with because my husband is a major financial backer of the League?” You tilted your head, voice calm but sharp as glass. “Tell me, Tony, do you get this weird about Pepper working with superheroes, or is it just me?"

Tony’s smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered. “Hey, I just call it like I see it.”

"And I call it like I see it," a deep voice rumbled from up ahead.

Arthur Curry—Aquaman—stepped into the hall, golden eyes locked onto Stark with clear disapproval.

“Is he bothering you?” Arthur asked, voice casual, but his glare anything but.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Relax, Fish King, just having a friendly chat.”

Arthur’s gaze didn’t waver. “Should I toss him in a tank or out an airlock?”

You smiled sweetly. “As fun as that sounds, let’s save it for later.”

Arthur grunted but didn’t back down, still staring at Stark like he was weighing whether or not he was worth the effort.

You patted Arthur’s arm before turning back toward the meeting room. “Come on. The faster we get this over with, the sooner you all stop testing my patience.”

Tony scoffed but didn’t push his luck further.

Natasha, however, smirked as she followed you. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

The doors slid open, and you strode into the meeting room ahead of the Avengers, your patience already thin from the trip up here. The Justice League members were already gathered around the large circular table, the Watchtower’s vast windows making the space feel both open and imposing.

You made a beeline for Black Canary, who was standing near Green Arrow, arms crossed and looking only mildly interested in whatever was about to happen. This was only her second time here, and you could tell she was still adjusting. You gave her a quick smirk.

“Welcome to the madness,” you murmured.  “You should have seen them when they landed. Half of them nearly lost their breakfast.”

She huffed a soft laugh. “I’ve been in fights that were quieter than this.” her arms crossed, expression amused as she took in the sight of the Avengers in full battle gear.

Before you could say anything else, a rich, melodic laugh echoed through the room.

Diana.

She leaned against the table, arms folded, wearing a simple fitted sweater and dark jeans—practical, casual, comfortable. Like many of the League members in attendance, she was dressed as a civilian. Only those who protected secret identities were in full gear.

Her gaze swept over the Avengers before settling on Steve, her lips twitching. “Tell me,” she said, tilting her head, “why are you all in battle armor when the world already knows who you are?”

She, like many of the League members, was dressed down—jeans and a soft sweater, looking entirely at ease. Only those who had secret identities—Batman, Robin, and a few others—were in uniform.

The Avengers hesitated.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. Bucky just sighed. Steve looked vaguely embarrassed but stood tall.

Tony, of course, had to open his mouth. “Well, excuse us, Princess—”

“I’d advise against finishing that sentence,” you muttered under your breath, but he ignored you.

“—but we actually like to be prepared. Unlike you guys, some of us don’t have fancy alien muscles or magical lasso tricks to back us up.”

Diana raised a single brow, entirely unimpressed.

Diana arched a brow, utterly unimpressed. “The world knows who we are. There’s no need for theatrics.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah, because Iron Man is completely defenseless.”

Before the conversation could spiral, a deep voice cut through the chatter like a blade.

Batman, standing at the head of the table, didn’t so much as flinch at the growing tension. He merely leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.

“Enough.”

The single word carried weight, and the room silenced.

Bruce’s eyes locked onto Tony’s. “You wanted a meeting, Stark. Get to the point.”

Steve looked frustrated, arms crossed over his chest as he turned to glare at Tony. “You told us Batman called this meeting.” His voice was tight, barely restrained. “That he had stipulations to wanting to work with us.”

Tony shrugged, looking completely unbothered. “Yeah, well, I might’ve embellished a little. But come on, Cap, you think Gotham’s very own cryptid would willingly reach out first?”

Steve’s jaw tensed, but before he could argue, Tony continued, his tone shifting to something far too casual. “Honestly, while we’re on the subject, I don’t think there should be secret identities. We’re all supposed to be on the same side, right? We fight for the same things, so why the hell are some of us still playing hide-and-seek?”

A few murmurs spread through the room, some from the League, some from the Avengers. Diana sighed, Oliver muttered something under his breath, and J’onn simply observed.

You, however, were already shaking your head. “No.”

Tony turned to you, brows lifting in mock surprise. “Oh, here we go.”

You took a step forward, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “I didn’t help broker this agreement between the League and the Avengers just for you to come here and stir up drama, Tony. You agreed to this alliance, so act like it.”

He scoffed, throwing a hand in the air. “Oh, please, don’t act like I’m the bad guy for saying what everyone else is thinking. If we’re really working together, then we should all be honest with each other. No masks. No secrets rendezvous`. No—”

CRACK.

The sharp sound of Batman’s gloved hand slamming against the table echoed through the room, cutting Tony off mid-sentence.

Tony froze. Everyone did.

Then, slowly, Batman stood.

The room seemed smaller with him standing. His cape barely shifted, but his presence alone felt heavier, darker. He wasn’t raising his voice, wasn’t even looking at Tony directly—just through him.

“You don’t get to make demands here,” Batman said, voice low and cold. “You don’t get to dictate how the League operates.”

Tony, for all his bravado, hesitated.

Batman leaned forward slightly, placing both hands on the table, his cowl casting shadows over the lower half of his face. “If you have an issue with how we do things, then you’re free to leave.”

Silence.

Tension crackled like a live wire.

Tony opened his mouth. Closed it.

No one moved.

And then, finally, he scoffed, looking away with an eye roll. “Jesus. Fine.” He threw himself back into his chair, arms crossing. “No need to get all batty about it.”

Batman didn’t sit. He didn’t even acknowledge the attempt at humor. He just stayed exactly where he was—looming, unyielding.

And just like that, Tony didn’t have another word to say.

As the meeting wrapped up, patrols were assigned, and territories marked for joint operations. The League made it clear—there were other heroes, other forces at play—but trust had to be built before the Avengers would be privy to anything beyond this initial partnership.

Batman sat motionless, absorbing every word, yet his gaze never wavered from Tony. He processed the strategies, the schedules, but underneath it all, he was planning. Scheming.

Because Batman couldn’t deal with this right now. Not like this. Not in this setting.

But soon, Bruce Wayne would handle it.

The Avengers began to break into their own conversations as the tension in the room dissipated. Natasha and Bucky had drawn you into a quiet conversation about their wedding—Nat smirking, Bucky shaking his head as you laughed.

Across the room, Diana’s melodic laughter echoed as Thor animatedly spoke with her, likely attempting to make amends for the battle gear comments earlier.

Meanwhile, Steve hesitated for a moment before finally making his way toward Batman.

“I shouldn’t have let it get to that point,” Steve admitted, standing beside the chair Tony had vacated. “Tony’s…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s Tony. He thinks he’s helping, even when he’s making things worse.”

Batman didn’t move.

Steve continued, keeping his voice low. “I just wanted to say—I appreciate you hearing us out. And I get it. Trust takes time.” His eyes flicked over to where you stood, listening intently as Natasha showed you something on her phone. “But… I hope this alliance can work. That we can work.”

Batman finally turned his head, just enough to glance at Steve. “That depends on Stark.”

Steve let out a quiet breath, nodding. “Yeah. I figured.”

Batman gave nothing else. No reassurance, no confirmation—just an unreadable stare before shifting his gaze back to the room.

Steve didn’t push for more. He’d done what he came to do.

As the Avengers prepared to leave, Batman remained exactly where he was, unmoving. His mind was already elsewhere, already planning the next step.

Because this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Leading the Avengers back into the hall, you kept your head high, ignoring Tony’s grumbling and Wanda’s amused side-eye. You just wanted to get this over with.

But then you made the mistake of glancing back.

Bruce was still at the table, leaned back in his chair, manspreading like he had no care in the world. His thick, delicious thighs were tense beneath his suits, one hand gripping the armrest tightly, the other lazily propping up his head as he watched you.

Heat curled up your spine.

You should care. You should worry about what the others were going to say, about the way they’d been side-eyeing you both throughout the meeting. But you didn’t.

Because you saw it.

You saw the way Nat smirked knowingly, the way Wanda’s eyes flickered between you and Bruce, the way Bucky and even Steve had stolen glances at your man.

And Bruce? He didn’t even pretend to hide it—his sharp, burning gaze locked onto you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

“See ya later,” you said sweetly, watching his lips twitch and his eyes soften just a fraction.

The doors shut behind you, and as soon as they did, Nat and Wanda pounced.

“Oh, you are in trouble,” Wanda teased, linking her arm through yours.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you?” Nat smirked. “Like he was starving.”

You giggled, warmth still lingering in your chest as you led them away, already knowing this was going to be a very long conversation home.

As soon as the doors slid shut behind the Avengers, the room was silent for a beat. Then, Arthur let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he mused, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Out of all of us, you were the biggest worry, Bats.”

A few others murmured their agreement, smirks and knowing glances passed around the table. Even J’onn, normally unreadable, looked faintly amused.

Bruce exhaled through his nose, unimpressed but unsurprised. He slowly stood, “I’ll be fine,” he said simply, his voice calm and measured. “As long as Stark is respectful of the League… and respectful of my wife.”

The weight of that word settled over the room. His wife.

Diana smiled knowingly, her arms crossed as she watched him. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say it like that in the suit.”

Bruce didn’t acknowledge it. He just pushed his chair in.

“If we’re done here,” he said smoothly, “I have somewhere to be.”

Barry snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Go home to your wife, Bats.”

Bruce didn’t dignify that with a response. But as he turned to leave, there was a slight curve to his lips, the closest thing to a smirk they’d seen from him in years.

The Batcave was dimly lit, the glow from the monitors casting sharp shadows across the space. Bruce sat in his chair, dressed down in sweats and a fitted black shirt, his socked feet resting on the edge of the console as he watched the feeds from patrol. Jason and Dick were out, their voices crackling through the comms as they bantered back and forth. It was a quiet night.

Still, you could tell he was wound tight. His jaw was clenched, his fingers tapping against the armrest in agitation.

Without a word, you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to the crease in his forehead. He groaned, exhaling heavily as his arms instinctively curled around your waist.

“I hate him,” Bruce muttered, tilting his head back against the chair.

You giggled, fingers brushing through his hair. “You hate a lot of people, babe.”

“This is different,” he grumbled. “He’s obnoxious.”

You hummed in agreement, but as you thought back to what Tony had implied earlier, your amusement faded. Your fingers traced the seam of his shirt absentmindedly before you finally sighed and fully sat on his thighs.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Bruce’s grip on your thighs tightened slightly, his thumbs moving in slow, soothing circles. “What is it?”

You swallowed, hating the way your chest tightened. “Tony was insinuating that I was cheating on you.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“With Batman,” you clarified, voice thick with frustration.

His hands stilled. “He—”

“He doesn’t know, I know..” you cut in quickly. “But he thinks I’m sneaking around behind Bruce Wayne’s back with Batman, and that’s why the League is willing to work with them.”

Bruce inhaled sharply through his nose, trying to stay calm, but you could feel the tension rolling through his body.

You shook your head, voice cracking slightly. “Like I’m just— Like I knew he was engaged when I got pregnant.” You clenched your fists against his chest, willing the burn in your eyes to go away. “I didn’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong, and yet somehow I’m still the one who—”

Your voice broke, and Bruce was quick to reach up, gently wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know you didn’t.”

You leaned into his touch, exhaling shakily.

Neither of you noticed the small figure standing just a few feet away, listening.

Damian had come down quietly, drawn by the sound of your voice. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but as he stood in the shadows, hearing your pain—he felt something in his chest tighten.

He’d always known the facts about his biological father. But hearing you like this? Hearing the weight of it in your voice?

He turned on his heel and left as quietly as he had come, fists clenched at his sides.

Tim barely had time to react. One second, he was hunched over the open hood of the car, adjusting a few components. The next, a weighted ball came hurtling through the air straight for the windshield he had just replaced.

“Shit!” he yelped, diving to the side, barely catching it before it made impact. He landed on the concrete floor with a grunt, holding the ball against his chest as he blinked up at the ceiling in disbelief.

Stephanie, who had chased Damian out to the garage, winced. “Okay… that was a bit of an overreaction.”

Tim pushed himself up onto his elbows, narrowing his eyes at Damian. “Dude, I just replaced that.”

Damian stood a few feet away, his chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides. His face was flushed from the effort of his throw, but more than that, he looked angry—his eyes wild, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

Tim sat up fully, tossing the ball to the side before he slowly dusted himself off. “Alright,” he muttered. “What’s your problem?”

Damian didn’t answer.

Stephanie crossed her arms, taking a slow step closer. “Come on, Dami. Talk to us.”

“Why?” Damian snapped, voice sharp and bitter. His hands clenched even tighter, nails digging into his palms. “Why should I? It doesn’t change anything.”

Tim sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d seen Damian upset plenty of times before—but this? This wasn’t just anger. This was something deeper. He kinda wished Jason was here.

“What happened?” Tim asked, this time gentler.

Damian exhaled sharply through his nose. He turned away, gripping the edge of the nearest workbench so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“I heard her,” he muttered.

Stephanie and Tim exchanged a look.

“Heard who?” she pressed.

Damian’s jaw tensed. “Mother.”

Realization dawned on Tim’s face, he must had overheard you talking about something private, that wasnt meant for him for a reason. His expression softened as he carefully placed the wrench he was holding onto the table.

Damian swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the wood. “I heard her talking to Father about him.” His voice dropped, but they could still hear the anger simmering beneath it. “About how Stark is spreading lies. About how he’s making it seem like she did something wrong—like she knew about his engagement. Like she’s cheating on dad—” He cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head. “She didn’t even do anything, and she’s the one being judged for it.”

Stephanie frowned, stepping closer. “And that’s what’s bothering you?”

Damian whirled on her, eyes burning. “Of course it is!” he shouted, his voice cracking slightly. “Why does MY MOTHER have to justify herself when he was the one who abandoned us? Why does she have to suffer for a mistake that wasn’t hers?”

Stephanie’s heart ached for him.

Tim was quiet for a long moment before finally sighing and stepping forward. He reached out, gripping Damian’s shoulder firmly.

“For what it’s worth, you’re not wrong,” he said. “And I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you’re allowed to be upset.”

Damian’s jaw tightened, his breathing still heavy.

Stephanie gave him a small, reassuring smile. “For what it’s worth, I like your mom. She’s probably one of the best things to ever happen to me. And I don’t think anyone who actually matters would believe anything Stark has to say about her.”

Damian swallowed, looking down.

Tim gave his shoulder a small squeeze before stepping back. “Come on, Demon Spawn. Wanna help me with the car? I could use an extra set of hands.”

Damian hesitated before nodding stiffly. “Fine.”

Stephanie grinned. “And then after, we can make cookies. That always helps when I want to punch something.”

Damian let out a small huff—almost a laugh. Almost. But that was good enough.

The morning was unusually quiet. Too quiet.

The Wayne family was rarely loud—years of training and vigilant habits ensured that—but there was always something filling the air. Jason grumbling about being up too early, Tim sleepily stirring sugar into his already over-caffeinated coffee, Stephanie trying to prank Damian. Even Bruce, when he was home, had a way of filling a room just by existing.

But this morning, the silence was heavy.

You stood at the stove, your back to them, flipping pancakes with careful precision. The sleeves of Bruce’s oversized sweatshirt hung past your fingertips, and your hair was hastily tied back, as if you hadn’t had the energy to do more than shove it away. The boys could see it—the pinkness in your eyes, the exhaustion in your movements.

Jason’s grip tightened around his fork as he shot a glance at Damian. The younger boy was unusually still, his hands resting on the table rather than reaching for his utensils. He wasn’t eating. Wasn’t speaking. Just watching.

Bruce, on the other hand, was attached to you. He hadn’t stopped touching you since he came downstairs. A hand on your waist, fingers ghosting over your wrist when you passed him a plate, pressing a slow kiss against your temple as he reached for his coffee. His voice was soft, murmuring something just for you, his eyes darker than usual with unspoken concern.

When you finally turned to the boys, your smile was small but genuine. “I’m staying home today,” you said gently. “Just wanted to see you all off and wish you a good day.”

Tim hummed around his coffee mug, pretending not to stare too hard.

Jason frowned, his stomach twisting. Like hell he was leaving you alone today. He was already cycling through excuses in his head, trying to find the perfect way to get himself out of school. Fake a fever? No, Alfred had thermometers everywhere. Stomach bug? No way they’d buy that with his appetite.

Damian, however, was watching him.

Jason didn’t say it out loud, but they all knew—Jason hated leaving when you were upset. His separation anxiety was quieter these days, but it still lingered, clawing at him whenever something felt off.

And Damian? Well, Damian wasn’t one to let things sit.

By the time breakfast was over and Jason was still fumbling for a plan, Damian had already made his decision. Jason was wicked smart.. But Damian is genius level theres nothing he cant plan out. 

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone when, hours later, a taxi pulled up outside of Stark Tower.

And out stepped Damian Wayne

Tony let out a low whistle, setting his drink down on the glass table beside him as Damian Wayne stepped into his office. “Confidence. I like it. Arrogance? Even better. You must be a real hit at school.”

Damian didn’t so much as blink. “I’m not here for pleasantries, Stark.”

Tony leaned back, lacing his fingers together behind his head. “Yeah, I figured. You look about five seconds away from either throwing a tantrum or throwing a punch. I gotta warn you, though—throwing punches usually doesn’t end well for people in this lounge.”

Damian ignored the jab. He stepped closer, placing both hands on the table between them and leaning in slightly. “I heard what youve said about my mother.” His voice was low, controlled—but there was a storm brewing underneath it.

 Tony had seen the kid before—at the gala, hovering near Wayne, sharp brown eyes taking in everything. There had been something familiar about him even then, something Tony had pushed to the back of his mind, locking it away behind sarcasm and ego.

But now? Now the kid was standing in front of him, fists trembling, voice steady but furious, and Tony couldn't ignore it anymore.

“You’re a coward.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, forcing himself to lean back in his chair, forcing himself to be unbothered. “Oh? Do tell.”

Damian’s eyes burned. “You abandoned us.”

Us.

There it was.

Tony felt his stomach drop, but his face didn’t change. He had spent a lifetime perfecting that. So instead of letting the words settle, instead of acknowledging what they meant, he scoffed. “Look, kid—”

Damian took a step closer. “You didn’t know she kept it. Fine. But instead of facing that truth, you’d rather paint her as some kind of liar. As if she knew about you, as if she chose to interfere in your life. You insinuated she betrayed Bruce, that she was unfaithful. You tried to drag her through the mud just to protect your own ego.”

Tony exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. His fingers itched for a drink, but he curled them into a fist instead. “Okay, first of all—”

“Don’t.”

The command was sharp, almost authoritative, and Tony shut his mouth before he could stop himself.

The kid’s hands were clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms, his breathing controlled but measured, like he was fighting to keep himself still. “You will listen to me,” Damian said, his voice deadly quiet. “You don’t get to talk your way out of this. You don’t get to charm your way out of being a coward not to my mother.”

Tony wanted to snap back, to deflect, to turn this into something he could handle.

But all he could hear was that single word, us, rattling in his skull.

Damian took a slow breath, grounding himself. “My mother raised me. She didn’t ask for anything from you. She never came looking for you. And now that you know the truth, she still hasn’t asked for anything. But you?” His lip curled slightly, his next words dripping with quiet disgust. “You’d rather slander her than face what you did. That isn’t just weak, Stark. It’s pathetic.”

For the first time in a long time, Tony didn’t have a comeback.

He just… stared. He swore his father was standing in front of him.

Because no matter how much he wanted to deny it, no matter how much he wanted to bury the thought, there was no ignoring the way the kid’s brown eyes burned with the same fire he had seen in the mirror.

And for one, stupid second, he wondered.

Tony blinked, the words catching him off guard. For a moment, his mask slipped, but he quickly covered it with a dry laugh. “Oh, I get it now. You’re one of those kids with a chip on their shoulder, huh? Daddy issues? Sorry, not my department. Bruce Wayne’s the one with the orphan trauma kit, isn’t he?”

Damian’s expression didn’t waver. He simply took a step closer, his sharp green eyes cutting through Tony like a scalpel. “Bruce doesn’t know I’m here,” he said, voice steady, deliberate. “This isn’t about him. This is about you.”

Tony’s grip tightened around his glass, but he forced himself to keep his face neutral.

Damian tilted his head slightly, watching him. Calculating. “You had doubts,” he said, quieter now, almost like he was speaking to himself. “At the gala. I saw it in your face when you looked at me.”

Tony scoffed. “Kid, you’ve got a hell of an imagination.”

But Damian didn’t stop. “You saw it, didn’t you? The resemblance.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression locked down, kept the smirk in place, even as something uneasy settled in his gut.

“Whatever fantasy you’re spinning, it’s—”

“I did, too.” Damian cut him off effortlessly.” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply through his nose. His hands curled into fists. “I see it now. I see it in the way you deflect instead of confronting me because you realize that im just as intellegent as you, I do the same with my father. In the way you’d rather joke your way out of something than feel it.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Well, congratulations, kid, you just described half of Manhattan.”

Damian didn’t laugh. “I don’t need anything from you.” His voice was cold, precise. “Not your name. Not your wealth. Not your approval. But you will stop.”

Tony leaned back, rubbing his temple, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “And what, exactly, do you expect me to do?”

Damian straightened, adjusting his posture with the kind of poise Tony had only ever seen in people who had been raised to command a room.

“Be better.”

For a second—just a second—Tony felt something crack. But then the walls slammed back up, and he forced out another laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Cute speech, really. You practicing for debate team? Because I gotta say, the dramatics are a little over the top.”

Damian stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head, a quiet sort of disappointment in his gaze.

“I expected as much,” he murmured, more to himself than Tony. “I hope you can grow up.. For your daughter.” Damian nodded to a picture on the wall as Tony froze.

As the elevator doors slid open, the hairs on the back of Tony's neck stood up. There, standing in the doorway, was Bruce Wayne. His gaze immediately locked onto his son, and Tony could practically feel the weight of the moment shift in the air.

Damian stiffened for a moment but didn’t say anything. Bruce’s eyes softened when they met his son’s, but there was a sharpness there—an edge that made Tony pause. Bruce stepped forward, and without a word, he knelt down in front of Damian, his movements controlled, as always.

“I understand why you did this, Damian,” Bruce said quietly, his voice low and steady. “But I’m disappointed you disregarded your safety so easily.”

Damian said nothing, his jaw tight, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes was enough. Bruce reached out, pulling him into a hug. A firm, strong embrace. There was no hesitation, no anger—just a quiet understanding between father and son.

Tony stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene. The sight of Bruce holding his son in such a rare, intimate moment hit him harder than expected. He hadn't seen that kind of tenderness in a father before, and it struck him with a wave of realization.

For a moment, it was like he wasn’t even there.

“I want you to wait in the car,” Bruce said softly, pulling back just enough to meet his son’s gaze. Damian didn’t protest, simply nodding, his expression unreadable as he turned toward the elevator.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Bruce’s expression shifted, his face morphing into something darker—fury burning in his eyes. The calm, composed facade he'd worn for so long, especially in front of Tony, crumbled in an instant. The tension in the room thickened, and Tony could practically feel the weight of it settle over him like a storm cloud.

Without a word, Bruce pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he sent a text. His jaw clenched, his gaze flickering to Tony only briefly before he started walking toward him. Every step was deliberate, every movement a reminder of the man he was—calculated, precise, and more dangerous than anyone realized.

Tony straightened slightly in his chair, trying to project an air of confidence, but it was clear the mere presence of Bruce in full boss-mode’ rattled him. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of that look—the one that could tear apart the bravado of even the most powerful people. He usually is on the receiving end of the god I hate that Im breathing the same air as you, you annoying fuck look.  And yet, as much as he wanted to push back, he could feel the knot tightening in his chest.

Bruce stopped just a few feet away, his posture rigid, eyes locked onto Tony’s. There was nothing friendly in his gaze.

Tony's frustration reached its peak, as he desperately tried to manage the chaos unfolding around him. The noise from his phone ringing, the continuous alerts flooding in, and the endless barrage of messages, all grew louder. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him as panic began to take root. He swiped through his devices, trying to make sense of what was happening, but nothing made sense. All of his stocks were plummeting, people were demanding answers, and the door to his office was being hammered with urgent knocks.

"What the fuck... WHAT THE FUCK?!" Tony cursed, his voice rising with each new blow to his empire. His fingers moved frantically over his phone and tablet, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, but the more he tried, the worse it got. The magnitude of the crisis unfolding before him was suffocating, and he couldn’t understand how it all came crashing down in an instant.

And then, through the whirlwind of chaos, he looked up. His eyes locked onto Bruce, who was sitting across from him, a smug, almost amused expression on his face. Bruce wasn’t even fazed by the whirlwind surrounding them. He wasn’t scrambling or flustered. Instead, he just sat back in the chair, completely calm, and it drove Tony crazy.

Tony’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing in his eyes. "What the hell do you want, Bruce?" he spat, his voice strained from the pressure.

Bruce's lips curled into a knowing smile. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching Tony squirm as his world fell apart. And then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he raised his phone and held it up in front of Tony.

"Want to fix it?" Bruce asked, his voice smooth, confident.

Tony's eyes narrowed, disbelief mixing with rage. His gaze dropped to the phone in Bruce’s hand, and for the first time, he saw what was really happening. There, on the screen, was evidence that Bruce had orchestrated this entire mess. It was a simple text—one that Bruce had sent to the right people at the right time, carefully and strategically—and it was enough to collapse everything Tony had spent years building.

The realization hit Tony like a ton of bricks. He was in no position to fight this. 

The frantic phone calls, the screaming, the utter chaos—Bruce had planned this. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Tony opened his mouth to protest, to somehow deny what was happening, but Bruce’s smirk deepened, and the glint in his eyes told Tony all he needed to know.

"You want me to fix this, Tony? Then maybe it's time you start acting like you actually have something to protect," Bruce said quietly, each word deliberate. "But don’t worry... I’m sure we can work something out. After all, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your fans."

Tony clenched his fists, his teeth grinding as the situation dawned on him. The tables had turned in a way he never saw coming, and now he had to decide either to play by Bruce’s rules or watch his empire crumble further.

He exhaled sharply, hands running through his hair as he tried to steady himself. But deep down, he knew the real question wasn’t about fixing it—it was about whether he could ever get out from under Bruce’s thumb.

The tension in the room was thick, the power dynamic shifting irreparably. And Bruce? Bruce just waited, a calm presence amidst the storm, as if he already knew exactly how this would play out.

The air in the room thickened, a suffocating weight pressing down as Bruce finally leaned forward, planting his hands firmly on Tony’s sleek, high-tech desk. His shadow stretched across the space between them, swallowing Tony whole. The easy smirk Tony usually wore was gone now, replaced by something tight, something wary.

Bruce’s voice was low, almost gentle—but there was nothing soft about the words that followed.

“You’re arrogant. Careless. A man who never learned the difference between power and responsibility.” His eyes, cold as steel, locked onto Tony’s, pinning him to his chair like prey caught in a trap. “You think your money, your tech, your goddamn wit can keep you untouchable. That you can say whatever you want, do whatever you want, and walk away without consequence.”

Bruce tilted his head slightly, studying Tony as if he were something small. Insignificant. “You know what the real difference between us is, Stark?” he continued, his voice still disturbingly calm. “You play at being untouchable. I am.”

Tony swallowed, shifting in his seat, but Bruce didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“If I ever find out that you so much as whisper my wife’s name, if you so much as breathe about my son —” His voice dropped lower, turning into something darker, something lethal. His fingers curled slightly against the desk, the tension in his arms coiled like a predator waiting to strike.

“I will dismantle you. Piece by piece. You think this is bad?” He gestured vaguely at Tony’s still-vibrating phone, the frantic pounding outside the door. “This was me being polite.”

Bruce leaned in even further, his presence swallowing every inch of the room, and for the first time in a long time, Tony felt truly small.

“You won’t even see it coming,” Bruce murmured, his voice now barely above a whisper. “No headlines. No explosions. No grandstanding. Just one day, you’ll wake up and everything will be gone. Your company. Your empire. Your reputation. And you’ll know it was me. But you won’t be able to prove it.”

Bruce let the words settle, let the silence stretch between them until it became unbearable. Then, as if a switch had flipped, he smiled.

A perfect, dazzling, Wayne Enterprises CEO smile. The kind that graced magazine covers. The kind that fooled entire boardrooms into thinking he was nothing more than a polished businessman.

“So,” he said pleasantly, straightening his suit jacket as if he hadn’t just promised to rip Tony’s life apart at the seams. “Do we have an understanding?”

Tony exhaled sharply, barely aware he’d been holding his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins.

Bruce watched him expectantly, waiting.

Tony forced himself to nod. Just once.

Bruce’s smile widened just a fraction, a glint of something dangerous flickering behind his eyes.

“Good.”

And with that, Bruce turned, adjusting his cufflinks as he walked toward the elevator. He didn’t spare Tony another glance as he pressed the button, the doors sliding open in eerie silence.

But just before he stepped inside, Bruce hesitated. Just for a second. And then, without turning around, he delivered his final warning.

“Oh, and Stark?”

Tony barely managed to lift his gaze.

“Be a coward all you want. I got it.”

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing Bruce and his smirk away, leaving Tony sitting there—pulse pounding, body rigid, and for the first time in a long, long time... utterly speechless.

[vanya-evergreen]

Writing for Commissions to help pay for next college term!

Hello, I am trying to save up for my next college term so I am opening commissions for any fandom related writing!

I will Write HCs, blurbs, scenarios, concepts, and full blown fanfics!

For reference to my work please feel free to check out. My previously posted works on my masterlist

Masterlist

Will Writing- X readers (platonic and Romantic), Characters × Charcters (platonic, and romantic), *OC × characters, found family, I'm willing to do almost any Fanfic trope, just ask me about it! including yandere**

Will not write- Child/Adult (romantic), Zoophilia, Noncon.

* a basic character sheet for the OC is necessary, will accept written character sheets, drawing aren't necessary.

**any yandere work will require a more extensive conversation just to make sure that you get what you want!

Rates-

Hc, blurbs, scenarios: $6-7 depending on requested length.

Concepts- $8-10 depending on length

Fanfic- $10 per 1000 words,

anything below 1000 words I considered to be a scenario!

Payment is for now only accepted Via Zelle and PayPal. (feel free to inform me about other payment Options)

[queenbrucewayne]

Batman Doesn’t Get Sick.

This was definitely a rare occasion. You and Alfred both stood there watching as Bruce was at his computer in the Batcave. Surrounded by tissues, two empty glasses of orange juice and different types of medicine bottles.

“He’s refused to eat the soup I’ve made, insisting it’s just allergies..” Alfred raised an eyebrow, clearly tired from probably dealing with his stubbornness all morning.

“Allergies? You’re kidding..” You watch as he took another pull from the bottle, popping it in his mouth and going back to whatever he was doing.

“I’m almost certain he’ll over dose on vitamin D at this point…” Alfred shook his head in annoyance.

“It’s okay,” you put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. There still some of that soup right?”

“Hot and ready on the stove, good luck.” He said, just before walking back upstairs.

Funny, good luck… you would definitely need it.

Whatever it was Bruce was doing definitely had all his attention, he wasn’t really paying any kind to you at all. It was kinda funny though, seeing him still in his gear without the cowl. His under eyes were darker then normal, and he kept sniffling. Which is probably what resulted in the mountains of issues all around the desk.

“Bruce?”

He didn’t even turn his head to look at you.

“Bruuuce.” You kept going, taking a few steps closer to him.

This time you got right behind his right shoulder, leaning down you wrapped your left arm around his neck…he definitely had a fever.

“Sweetheart.”

He grunted, but it was better then nothing.

“Maybe you should come upstairs, Alfred still has the soup hot, take a break since you’re-“

“I’m not sick.” He cut in.

Oh… so he was being in denial.

“Really? I think the state of your desk would disagree.” You rested your chin on top of his head, moving to wrap your arms around his neck.

He sighed, raising one of his hands and placing it on your forearm. At least he was reacting to you.

“It’s just-“

“Allergies… right”

He turned his head to look at you, clearly not amused. “I’m fine.”

You pulled back from him, raising your hands in surrender. “Okay okay, my apologies. Here I thought the runny nose, droopy eyes, and extra body heat was something other then your charming personality.”

“Y/n..” He had a warning to his tone now.

You turned around to walk upstairs, “I’ll come check on you in a bit, try not to get snot all over the keyboards.”

He rolled his eyes, ignoring you and going back to his computer.

You grabbed a few things from upstairs, a glass of water, Alfreds soup, a cold damp hand towel and a throw blanket. Bruce still had tons of pills downstairs so it was probably best to ease up on the drugs.

Finding him in the same spot you left him, you set the tray down on his desk next to his keyboard. He glanced over at everything, but no attempt to stop what he was doing.

Taking the blanket you slowly started to put it around him, suddenly he grabbed a hold of your right hand stopping you from moving.

"Y/n..." He warned.

"It's just a blanket, it's not a straight jacket."

"This isn't necessary."

"Stop being stubborn."

He looked at you, that adorable grumpy face that he would always pull when he was too tired to argue with you. He loosened his grip and just let you continue.

"Thank you." You said, placing the blanket around his shoulders. "What are you working on?"

He glanced at you for a moment, seeming too hesitate before answering. "A case Gordan is working on."

"So this is what's got you so busy lately... What's it about?" You asked, seeing he was still giving you suspicious glances, but continued explaining the details.

At some point while he was talking you casually started running your hand throughout his hair. It gave you the opportunity to slip your hand pass his forehead, which was still warm.

Reaching over to grab the cold damp hand towel, you pull his messy hair back just a bit to show his forehead. Placing it gently on top you smiled as you heard a little sigh of relief come from him.

“Hey, maybe you should change out of your gear, I can run upstairs and bring some sweatpants and a T-shirt.” You pulled back from him, but he quickly took ahold of your waist, moving you to be sat across his lap.

“I know what you’re doing darling, and I’m not fond of it.” He leaned forward to talk in her ear. “I’m not sick, I don’t need soup, I don’t need anything. And I can’t go change, I might go out tonight.”

You eyes widened, taking a hold of his chin you made him face you. “You are not going out tonight, absolutely not in your condition.”

“Y/n… I said might, I’m not even sure myself yet if I need to but-“

“Why? So you can get somebody killed?”

He frowned at you, “Where did that come from?”

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder you started to play with the hair on the back of his neck. “You got shot last week…. You didn’t even let yourself recover from that.”

“Alfred told you…”

“Of course he did!” You looked up at him, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t like to worry you.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to try and get off his lap. He pulled you back to him this time with your back facing him.

“I worry anyways Bruce, I will always worry.” You Leaned back into his chest further. “You tend to forget you’re human sometimes.”

“I always come back to you.”

“Until the day you don’t…”

You felt his grip on you tense, knowing you probably stuck a nerve.

This was a back and forth conversation you two would have every so often, normally it wouldn’t lead to anywhere but Bruce would try his best to avoid it all together by not telling you if he was seriously injured.

“Alright, I’ll give it another day, now hand me that soup, it smells good.”

You smiled, sliding off his lap and handing over Alfred’s soup. “Here, it’s still hot.”

He nodded, taking the first bite and feeling the soothing feeling of it going down his throat. It didn’t occur to him that this was exactly what he needed. This reminded him of when he was a kid, Alfred would bring him soup and talk to him till he fell asleep.

Bruce glanced over to see you staring at him, your arm holding up your head with a soft smile on your face.

"What?"

"You look the most laid back that I've seen you all week."

“Alfred’s cooking… it makes me feel.. at ease I suppose.”

You nodded, “He has that affect on people.”

“I probably should apologize for giving him a hard time earlier.”

Your eyes widened, “wow, you must really not be feeling well.”

“Shut up.”

You laughed, taking his empty bowl from him, “here, take these pills and try to make your way upstairs at some point tonight please. You could use a shower.” You teased, taking the tray to start your way upstairs.

Bruce quickly reached out his hand and gripped your arm to stop you. "Y/n."

You looked down at him, "Yes?"

"Thank you..."

"Always... Can't have the batman out of the game for too long." Leaning down to kiss the top of his head, you made your leave.

When you made your way to the elevator you saw Alfred was standing there, waiting for you. "A warm bath will be ready soon."

"You think he'll actually listen and come upstairs?"

"I believe he would do it to make you happy. He's stubborn, however when he knows you're upset with him, he tends to be a bit more compliant" Alfred took the tray from your hands. "You get yourself ready for bed, I have no doubt he will be joining you soon."

Nodding, you made your way upstairs, smiling to yourself when you just saw him start to stand up and shut off the laptop.

@christianbalefanatic

[yandere-wishes]

Thank you for indulging me 🥰🥰

Okay imagine being their little doll. Just getting passed around and spoiled by "the group" tm!!

Like sitting on Harvey's lap nuzzling into his neck while Bruce plays with your hair and Tommy (salty he's not getting attention) is feeding you bits of his dessert. Meanwhile Roman is across the table musing about how cute and pathetic you are.

Or Harvey tutoring you but Bruce also tagged along and then Roman and Tommy ""accidentally" bump into you guys. Now what was supposed to be Harvey and Bruce helping you with calculus has turned into some sort of super messy four-way makeout session.

I'm so obsessed with this Au. What's funny is that if it's not an AU and the reader ends up meeting them in the future, she'll have an "I can't believe they got worse" moment.

I was reading your Tim Drake x Sionis!Reader and got distracted by "he’s remembering teenage Roman hanging out with teenage Bruce and being the worst" AND NOW I NEED CONTEXT!! did these two hang out?? Where they "friends" once? Did they try to kill eachother each playdate? Does that mean Roman also hung out with young Harvey dent (I'm still fairly new to DC but I think it was mentioned in the animated series that Bruce and Harvey are childhood friends??) I need awnsers, please😭🙏🏼😭🙏🏼

Bruce and Harvey are almost always best friends from childhood. Thomas Elliott is often a part of their friendship group or at least in its vicinity. Honestly, I can't recall any canon where Roman is in the mix too but I like to throw him in there for funsies. Its a lil treat for myself. It fits cause they would have run in the same circle, gone to the same school and social events etc (I think its age that keeps them apart in canon but oh well)

For me, Romans always the odd one out, he thinks they’re all friends, or at least Harv and Tommy are, but really it's a proximity friendship. Always in the same places at the same time kinda thing.

They all find Romans brash nature, tendencies toward anger, and occasional violent outbursts to be quite off putting actually. He’s to crass for their taste. They're all a bit mean and stuck up in the way that rich kids are, but Roman is by far the worst, so he and Bruce (who is the nicest of the group) butt head a lot. In that overly polite, its all in the tone not the words, kind of way.

Even if they did get on, Roman has just never liked Bruce, cause Bruce has always signified what he should be, what his parents wanted him to be.

He's not a klepto, he’d just take small bits as little fuck yous, to let of steam. Stuff Bruce probably didn't even notice, but Alfred who knows that house like the back of his hand, did. Books, small pieces of decor, silverware. Most of it was probably trashed and/or thrown away before he even made it back home.

On the subject I often get lost in my own mind thinking about a love-triangle-collegeAU, where you and Bruce and/or Harvey have gotten close recently, but your childhood friend Roman who has been obessed with you for 10+ years, whose been waiting not so patiently for you to realise he's the only man for you, can't stand your budding romance and decides enough is enough. No more Mr Nice Guy, its time to make you his. It's usually very messy, kinda hot, and ends very, very badly.

[kurogxrix]

me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

[yandere-wishes]

How unhinged and dark (and potentially disturbing) am I allowed to be??

I got this interesting idea rotting in my head...

[jscrawls]

Grave mistakes

Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?

Warning: contains mentions of kidnapping, threats, torture, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,

Part 4: gardening errors

🔹🔹🔹

You're not quite sure what circumstances lead to this, but here you are regardless.

It started as any normal morning for you in your new home, your routine caffeine fix and then you spent an hour in the play room wallowing in despair and shrieking in torment as the spirits watched on. Then you made yourself waffles.

As you were out tending to your garden and ripping up the colorful lilies hidden in one of the hedges something strange happened, a noise behind you, and then darkness.

You were disappointed to wake up, though finding yourself tied up and hanging upside down raised your mood a bit. Hyenas growl hungrily underneath your form as drool slowly drips from their chops, a strange green miasma is in the air around you. You slowly realize you're in some kind of greenhouse judging by the clear roof and the plants everywhere.

“I see you're awake.” A feminine voice purrs from somewhere behind you, you can't turn your head enough to see them but you don't have to, they slowly stroll into view and stand under you next to the hyenas. Her hair is long and blood red, her skin green and she seems to be wearing a green body suit covered in vines, this is an interesting turn of events!

“Hello there ma'am! Nice to meet you, Is this a torture thing?” It's a struggle to keep your voice even, not wanting to give away how excited you are when one of the hyenas jumps and tries to snap at you. A good torture session should have some build up after all.

The woman chuckles, taking the tremble in your voice as horror as she smirks. “right to the point are we? No my sweet, it's not torture….. Yet. Not if I get My way here.” with a slight flick of her wrist some of the plants around her shift and twist, vines crawling up from the ground to gently wrap around your throat, A threat. You can't suppress the shiver going down or up? your spine. The woman chuckles again.

“Not yet? What's the wait my friend, are we expecting more company first?” It's a bit hard to keep your eyes on her when she starts stalking around the room, you frown when the vines release you and sink back down into the ground.

“Oh I almost forgot myself, please forgive my lack of manners miss, my name is-” “I know who you are, I know everything I need to know about you. How you come here and start throwing money around, paying that filthy company to keep producing their chemicals regardless of how many plants choke and die on their disgusting fumes. How you bought that land no doubt to drain the swamp on it, how you-are you giggling?”

She cuts off her monologue to stomp towards you, standing just under your head as she scowls up at you, rage burning in her pretty green eyes.

“Are you serious right now?” She hisses, hands clenching into fists while the plants around you twist and curl towards you, some starting to wrap around you once again.

“Oh no, please continue! I love a good monologue my dear friend. It's just that hanging like this has a fun little dizzying effect, blood drowning the brain and all.” You say with a smile as you look down at her, the vines starting to cut off your air supply.

She frowns at you and crosses her arms, blood colored lip curling into a sneer. “Why you-” “red! Finish the demands before ya start popping heads! You're putting us at stake here!” An exasperated voice yells, another woman joining the first.

This one's in red and black, short split dyed hair and skin so pale as if it's been bleached, she could almost rival Morticia’s sickly tone.

The woman apparently named Red rolls her eyes a bit, but wraps an arm around the others waist, they both look up at you as the vines again release you and drop into the dirt.

“Right…. Here's the deal Richie, we want money. Lots of it in fact, your people are gonna get it to us if they want you alive and well. You understand?” They both look up at you expectantly, the hyenas circle around Underneath you.

“I understand perfectly, how much do you want to torture me?”

They give each other confused like while you smile down at them, sweat starting to gather on your forehead from hanging upside down by your feet for so long.

After a few seconds the red head speaks again, tone aggravated. “What?”

“How much money do you want? I'd like this to continue and I understand your time is very valuable.”

“…. Did you not hear me?” The red head huffs, the other woman leans over to whisper loudly in the others ear. “Maybe I hit em in the head too hard?”

“i heard you just fine! you need money yes? i can pay you myself after the torture, or do you intend to kill me? you can get ahold of my dear relative morticia should i pass. wait have you seen my phone? i want to tell her or gomez the good news!” the split dyed hair one stares up at you with a look of concern, she pulls a familiar phone out of her pocket and looks down at it before glancing back up at you. “….i don’t think this is goin to plan, red.”

the redhead snatches the phone from the other, rolling her eyes while turning it on. “you’re not psyching us out, masochist. what’s the passcode for this? if you don’t tell me i’ll watch as my little babies grow from your eyesockets.”

“it’s 666.” “oh, of fucking course-alright i’m calling your emergency contact, i’m getting our damn money.” she huffs, pacing in circles as she dials and holds the phone up to her ear.

“come on…come on…finally, ahem, are you mx addamses emergency contact?…..this is their kidnapper. i’m calling to tell you that they’re going to be brutally tortured within the hour if you don’t gather a small sum of one million dollars and send proof of bank statements to this phone or else-huh?……”

after a moment she lowers the phone and stares at the other woman.

“….a little girl just told me ‘good for them’ and hung up on me.”

“a little girl is your emergency contact?” the split dyed hair one looks up at you questioningly as she starts to pet one of the hyenas.

you nod your head with a smile on your face. “Wednesday is actually my second emergency contact, grandmama is the first but she doesn’t have a phone.” the redhead tilts her head in confusion, dropping your phone carelessly on the moss covered ground. “then how do you contact them?” she mutters skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest. “depends where she is, usually via smoke signal or seance depending on her living status.”

“….so your emergency people is your living or dead grandmother and a little girl that doesn’t care if you’re being tortured?”

“there’s also cousin it, but essentially yes.”

the redhead sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering something unintelligible under her breath as she turns away from you and goes to sit on a vine covered bench.

the split dye one looks back and forth between you and the other woman, after a moment she shoos the hyenas away. “…..so, how’s about we talk about torture thing, eh? you seem ta be into that sorta thing, i won’t yuck ya yum if you’re actually gonna pay coinage for it.”

the redhead whips around to glare at the other one. “we are not doing bdsm for money! we’re not that desperate harl.” the plants around her slowly curl towards her, leaves and flowers brushing against her as if in comfort.

“well we might as well get sumthin outta this! we need the doe and pronto.”

you watch them bicker back and forth for a few moments in polite silence, your head aching more and more as the blood rushes to your head. after a bit you speak up loud enough for them to hear you over their arguement.

“excuse me my friends, can i ask what prompted this kidnapping and attempted ransom? it sounds like you’re both out of sorts here.”

the one apparently named harl quickly speaks up. “we got booted out of our apartment.” the other woman stands up angrily. “harley!”

harley glances over her shoulder, her lips pressing together in a pout. “what?”

the redhead pinches the bridge of her nose, clearly agitated as she approaches the harley lady. “you can’t tell them anything you idiot! they’re our victim not our therapist.”

“well they asked!”

you speak up again, one of the wriggling vines bumping into you and causing you to spin in a circle like some kind of torturous carnival ride. “kidnapping victim or not, i can have sympathy for someone going through a bad time. how’d you get removed from your home?” your voice sounds odd as you Spin back and forth, you're starting to get really dizzy.

Harley whips towards you, hair smacking her in the face as she righteously gestures. “they were homophobic!”

The redhead rolls her eyes and walks over to push on Harley’s face as she corrects her. “that’s not what happened, apparently the landlord found someone’s record.” she gives Harley a pointed look.

Harley pushes the hand off her face and points at your still spinning form as if to convince you of her side of things. Giving you an overly emotional look as she fends off the redheads attempts to shut her up. “well it sure seemed like he was homophobic when we's both broke into his place, you shoulda heard im when he realized who was under the ski masks!”

Your brows furrow as sweat drips off your forehead, your vision getting blurry as you finally stop spinning and you try to look at the two women below you.

“that’s very sad, a little devious activity shouldn’t lead to you losing your place, i can relate to that quite intimately actually.”

“really?” you hear both ask with differing tones, one sounding unenthusiastic in comparison to the other. You nod as best you can. “yes, that’s the whole reason i moved to this beautiful city!….we’re still in the city right?”

“maybe…..”Harley looks away from you and whistles innocently as she casually reaches over to pet a carnivorous plant.

That's good enough for you, you wriggle a hand free to pull a handkerchief out of your pocket so you can wipe your forehead clean, when you're done you tuck your hand back under your binds. “are you still looking for a place to stay?”

the redhead tilts her head in confusion while Harley replies. “why’d you think we want your money?” she looks away from the plant and walks under you, swatting at your jacket when it smacks her in the face.

“harley can you not?” the other woman is clearly exasperated as she all but hisses her words out, stomping over to try to drag Harley away from you. “May I remind you that we're threatening to kill them?”

You're unperturbed as you press on, watching them whisper loudly to each other right under your upside down figure. “do you want a place?”

Harley immediately perks up, a big grin on her face as she whips around to loom up at you. “are you offering?-” the redhead groans loudly and grabs the other woman by the upper arm and pulls her away while trying to cover her mouth. “absolutely not! we’re not going near the bdsm weirdos house after we kidnapped them, it’s never happening harl. i’m putting my foot down.”

“…”

Harley starts to tear up in silence, staring at the other woman with big glassy eyes as she works up some tears.

🔹🔹🔹

“i hate the manipulative tears.” the redhead, whom you’ve learned is named pamela, growls at harley as she roughly drops down on your couch with crossed arms.

“free room and board, red. keyword free, my lovely little murderous plant.” harley flops over beside her, wincing when a spring digs into her back, she still makes herself comfortable on pamela’s lap though.

🔹🔹🔹

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A/n: I apologize if the flow is off in this one, I wrote it while feverish y'all bear with me 🤷‍♀️

Taglist: @lunarapple @ladykamos

[c1nnam00n]

me tweaking out trying to find that one good fanfic