DP x DC Writing Prompt #8
The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.
"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."
"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."
"You own a sedan?"
"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."
Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.
Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.
"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."
Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.
"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"
Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"
"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.
"Get to it then," she demands.
Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.
"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."
Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.
"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."
Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"
"Thank you."
"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'
"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."
Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.
"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"
"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."
"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.
"So what can you tell me?"
"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."
"But he's not."
"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."
"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.
"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.
"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"
"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"
"You're being more sarcastic than usual."
"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."
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Just think about it for a sec. Setting Valentin's Day, you not so secretively hinting what day it is, him pretending he can't exactly remember why today is so special. You’re upset no matter how much he thinks it's cute to play dumb, even if he's hiding a little surprise for you. You go out with your girls, have a little fun night out, maybe come home a lil tipsy and come home to him waiting on you in just…a robe, his boxers, or maybe fully nude and standing behind something to tease you with his V-line.
Candles illuminate the room, gifts or sweets await you on the table and he's looking at you like you're a masterpiece even with your jacket hanging off of you and still a little mad. I'm talking about the men who pick you up and put you on that table, pushing your legs as far as they’ll go with a sly grin. “What pretty? Mad at me? Lemme fix that.” is the only thing he says before pulling your panties to the side and eating you like a starved man. Sucking and flicking his tongue at your clit until you’re whining, moaning into you like he's dining on a 5-star meal. He’s not stopping until you’re crying from overstimulation, drawing every orgasm out of your body as he greedily laps at your juices and only raises his head from your thighs to chuckle at your disheveled state. “You got another in you, I know you do. No, no, let me spoil that pussy, cum in my mouth again.”
Or or .ᐟ.ᐟ
Men who are bending you over the counter and pulling whatever clothes you got on out the way once you start whining and bratting he forgot today. “Baby I didn't forget a thing, you were just being impatient.” He’s so nonchalant about it, pissing you off more as you wiggle under him only to be meant with his chest pressed against your back and his weight fully on you. “You can either cut the shit and I'll fuck you until morning or take a few spankings and no dick.” With an ultimatum like that you shape up quickly, pressing that new nail set into the countertop as he backs off you, stripping your lower half to see you're already ready for him. “Wet from just that, I haven't been giving my needy girl the attention she deserves, I'll make up for it.” He definitely makes up for it, stuffing you nice and full with his cock. Giving you long, hard and deep strokes that reach that one spot that makes you cry out, kissing your neck, whispering the nastiest things in your ear until you’re cumming all on him and he's switched paces just to hear that sweet sound of skin slapping. Maybe be fills you with his cum, maybe he pulls out and paints your ass with it. Either way you’ll have forgotten all about him making you mad.
No matter which it is he's going to pull you into his arms, holding you tightly as he whispers “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe”
Jean Kirschtein, Keigo Takami, Connie Springer, Erwin Smith, Tetsurou Kuroo, Atsumu Miya, Tooru Oikawa, Jason Todd, + Any of your favs(or JJK men but I just started it and idk who fits)
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Internal Conflict (Part 1 of 3)
Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader
Series - Under Your Skin
Part 2 here | Part 3 here
Summary - While Batman is at war with himself, some members of the Batfamily start picking up on his odd behaviour.
Warnings - None that I can think of.
A/N - What's that? Is there some actual plot here? My, I think it is! 😂 I know, it's been quite a bit of time between updates again. Sorry about that, this (and the next couple of parts) took a while to outline first and then obviously life kept getting in the way. But it's here now! And the time between updates shouldn't be quite as long. Thank you for being patient with me. Anyway, enough rambling, enjoy! 💜
Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.
Word Count - 2.5k
The wind ruffled his cape, making it blow out behind him. He was still on the rooftop, a frown on his face. You were already gone, having stormed off a few minutes ago. Your blood boiling, no doubt. Much like his was right now. The only thing he didn’t know was whether his anger was directed toward you or himself.
You had a talent for getting underneath his skin. In record time as well. It was something that he had quickly discovered not long after you had accepted the invitation to join the Justice League. Somehow, you were worse than Hal and Oliver combined. All week you had been pushing each other’s buttons and tonight you both had finally hit your boiling points. It was bound to happen at some point. In truth, he was a little surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. And while he was sure you had meant every last word you had shouted at him, he hadn’t.
He hadn’t thought about it. The filter between his brain and mouth failing as he snapped. He supposed he should count himself lucky that you could, mostly, see through his bullshit. If you didn’t he imagined that you would have quit long before now. Though, after tonight, there was now a very real chance that you would. And if you did, he was positive you would make sure it was known why you had walked away. He could already invision the line of people that would be ready to deck him for it.
With you long gone and the crisis in Star City now averted, Bruce left the rooftop. Grappling and gliding to where he had left the batwing.
The entire flight back to Gotham he replayed the argument over and over again. Analysing it. Like always.
“At first I thought it was because you wanted to make sure that I was cut out for this…”
That was true! When it came to flying solo, you were more than capable. It was one of the things about you that had caught his eye. Obviously, working with a team was far different. You had more than just yourself to worry about. He had to make sure you could do that.
“...now I think it’s because you want me to quit… For whatever reason you’ve decided I’m no longer good enough…”
That wasn’t true. He didn’t want you to quit. In the short time that you had been a member of the League, you had quickly become an invaluable member of the team. To say that it would be a shame to lose you was an understatement. Not that he was every going to say that aloud. Especially not after tonight. Chances were you wouldn’t even believe him so why waste his breath?
You had been right to call him out. If he had thought you incapable or not good enough, then you really wouldn’t have set foot on the Watchtower. But you were good enough. You were more than good enough. He knew that better than anyone. He had looked into you, put your name forward. Not that you knew or needed to know that, as far as he was concerned. And to say that he was nitpicking just to rile you up to have sex was ridiculous. Sex was just a byproduct of adrenaline caused by the arguments and being in such close quarters. It was a surprise that it hadn’t started far sooner.
It had become a vicious cycle. That he could admit to. And now it was one that had finally been broken by you. Not that he cared. He didn’t need to have sex with you. There were plenty of people out there that he could sleep with instead. Besides, you were teammates and relationships like that could get messy, fast. It was best that it was brought to an end before something happened that would jeopardise future missions. If you hadn’t done it tonight, then he certainly would have.
The sound of his boots on the metal platforms and stairs that made up this portion of the batcave, that hung over a dark abyss were loud and echoed off of the walls. The bats, high above him, squeaked in dismay, dropping from their perches to either fly deeper into the cavern system or leave it altogether.
He tugged his cowl off, setting it down onto the desk of the batcomputer as he took a seat, sighing deeply.
“Another fight with Mr Queen?” Alfred asked as he set a silver tray down, a cup, teapot and a plate of cookies on it, and poured him some tea.
Bruce grunted in response. All he wanted to do now was focus on the keyboard and screen in front of him, no longer wishing to think about what had happened tonight. There was still a few hours before dawn and he had a lot of case files to look into. He also really didn’t want to get into this with Alfred. It wasn’t any of his business.
“As talkative as ever, I see,” he muttered as he walked away to tend to other things. Alfred had decided a long time ago, since this whole vigilante business had started, that if Bruce wished to sulk over something then he could bloody well do it alone.
According to his phone, the sun had risen several hours ago. He had yet to even think about making his way up into the manor and toward his bedroom. His mind wouldn’t still, the gears just kept turning. Focusing on the argument, no matter what he did to try and steer his mind away. The anger in your features, that weren’t hidden by your mask, and your body, the venom that had dripped in each word, the clenching of your fist as you debated whether to try and deck him or not. In the end you had decided not to. Likely because he would have easily caught your hand had you tried.
He shook his head. It shouldn’t be bothering him this much. And yet…
His thoughts were broken by the sound of boots marching toward him. He frowned, turning away from the disassembled equipment on the workbench to see who it was. Diana. Of course. She was angry, a storm dancing in her eyes and her fists clenched by her side. The only thing that he could think was that you had actually done it. You had quit and let her know that he was the reason you were walking away. Bruce swallowed thickly and composed himself, ready to be run through with a sword.
“And what did you say this time?” she demanded, stopping in front of him, crossing her arms against her chest.
“She quit?”
“Not yet, but I don’t doubt she’s thinking about it,” she replied.
You hadn’t quit? He felt relieved, a weight he hadn’t been truly aware of lifting from him. He couldn’t dwell on that feeling for long, as Diana continued speaking.
“Now I’m not going to pretend like I know what’s going on between the two of you, but whatever it is I suggest you figure it out.”
“You’ve had this same conversation with her?”
“I will be. I came to talk to you first since you’re the one continuously instigating these arguments.”
He grumbled in response. Instigator?” It made him sound like a damn child.
“I’m not apologising–”
Diana scoffed. “When have you ever apologised for anything. Just figure it out.”
It had been weeks since Bruce had last fought with you. Of course, he had barely said two words to you, outside of missions, because you never stuck around for too long. You were keeping your distance from him. Not that he could blame you.
He couldn’t lie. The distance, it bothered him. And it wasn’t because of the looks that he received every time you left a room he entered. Outside of all of this he lived in the public eye. He was used to dirty looks being thrown his way. Thing was he couldn’t put his finger on why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t affecting missions. You were civil and you fought alongside him like nothing had ever happened between the two of you.
Was it the result of your own conversation with Diana? Or had you decided on this shortly after Star City?
His own conversation with her had continued to lingered on his mind. It had made him wonder if it was possible to start over with you. It was clear to him now that no, that wasn’t possible. You wished to have nothing to do with him, outside of missions, and he would respect that. He told himself that things were better this way. Less complicated.
The sound of your footsteps passing by the laboratory broke Bruce’s thoughts, as well as his focus on dismantling Lex Luthor’s newest kryptonite weapon. Looking away from the weapon, he frowned. He could sworn that he was the only one left awake on the Watchtower.
The battle against Lex had been hard on all of them. The corrupted billionaire’s newest mech hitting harder and causing more destruction than any of the previous ones combined. Things certainly would have gone much smoother had Diana been with them, but the warrior goddess was off elsewhere. Busy dealing with gods and monsters and other things he would rather not think about. The battle had also served as a reminder that the production of his own mech, meant exactly for situations like that one, was taking far too long.
It also had him concerned. Super villains breaking out and working together, all of Lex’s newest tech, his own city being a little too quiet. He wasn’t one to overly rely on gut feelings, preferring physical evidence and facts, something that he could see, but he couldn’t shake it. Something big was headed their way and this was simply the start of it. They needed to be ready.
The kryptonite weapon attached to the mech meant that Clark had suffered the worst injuries out of everybody. As soon as Lex had been apprehended, he had been Bruce’s focus, making sure that he didn’t die. Lois would likely kill him if that happened and he wished to avoid that. It hadn’t stopped him from noticing you though. The way you were favouring your leg, the tear in your suit where blood was running from your thigh, making its way down your leg.
Bruce had been worried about your injury, like he would about anyone of his other teammates, of course. Years as a vigilante had taught him how bad a leg injury could be. He had wanted to see to it himself. With his training and degree, he would be the best option to, but Clark took priority and you refused to be in the same room with him.
Honestly, he was still worried. Before he could stop himself, he was already out of his seat. Making his way out of the laboratory and down the hallway. He was already halfway down the hallway when he heard one of the zeta tubes starting to fire up. He picked up his pace.
In his head, he had it all planned out. Like any concerned teammate, he was simply going to ask if you were okay and if you would like from him to take a look. Make sure that it wasn’t severe. That was it, but when he entered the room, he didn’t get a chance to even open his mouth before you were stopping him.
“I’m really not interested, Batman,” you told him, looking at him over your shoulder, your voice cold and gaze hard. You moved away from the console in front of you and stepping into the blinding light. Leaving him alone on the Watchtower.
In hindsight, he probably should have expected that.
As he headed back to the laboratory, he made a mental note to give Dinah some information she could send your way to help with your injury. You were close with her and it would be easier than trying to corner you.
Bruce worked well into the night after that. Or at least he tried to. His mind refused to focus on the task at hand. Instead it constantly drifted back to you. More specifically how it had felt to have you beneath him. The sweet noises spilling from your lips that sounded so much better than when you were arguing with him. It left him aching and missing those moments. Which he found ridiculous. The two of you hadn’t even been in a relationship. There wasn’t anything there to miss.
One thing was clear to him, he never should have dragged you into that storage room to begin with. He really didn’t know what he had been thinking. That time or any of the others. All it had done was make everything worse and that now there was no way in hell it could ever be fixed. Not that he could see anyway.
None of it mattered in the end. Things were better this way. Less complicated. Less chance of emotions getting in the way and less chance of missions going awry.
It was only after Diana had finally returned to the Watchtower and disturbed him, that he finally realised the time. It was well into the next morning and, no matter how much he would prefer to stay here and continue working, Bruce Wayne had places to be. Huffing, he locked up the now disassembled weapon and left the laboratory and began to head back to his cave.
Dick flipped through the air and landed on the mat. He had come back to Gotham for a visit because he missed Alfred’s cooking and Tim and Barbara had messaged him about Bruce acting strangely. He stepped off of the mat, grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip just as Bruce returned to the batcave.
“Finally! We were about to send out a search party!” he called out to him. He didn’t get a response like he expected he would. Not even a grumble, grunt or a glare. Instead he was simply ignored.
“Told you something was up with him,” Tim said from where he was sitting, eyes still glued to the laptop screen in front of him.
“Yeah.” He took another sip from his water bottle. “Selina’s not in town right now, is she?”
Anyone who knew Bruce knew about the very long and very complicated relationship that he shared with the world’s greatest thief. And no matter how hard they tried to make things work it always ended with two broken hearts and an even broodier Bat with an even shorter fuse. It had always been that way, for as long as he could remember.
Tim shook his head. “Barbara already checked. Selina is out of the country and has been since their last break up.”
Dick nodded. “Interesting.” And it was interesting. If it wasn’t Selina that had him acting like this, then who did? Who had gotten underneath his skin so badly? “Looks like we have an investigation on our hands.”
“He’s not going to be happy about that,” Tim frowned, finally looking away from the laptop screen.
He shrugged. “He’s rarely happy about anything. Come on, we should meet with Barbara and figure out where we should start.”
*
Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @warsaur @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @thedeadlythoughts
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