#from both PR and bruce

[timblrdrake]

Batman can keep his "No Killing" rule, but I'm different, like if I found Joker I won't hestite to just kill him or at least brake his bones or something, you know

i don’t want to face the lecture that’d come with commenting my opinion on this so i’m just going to give you a

👍

[kitkatscabinet]

TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x fem! reader.

Summary: So, he might be going against "bro code". He can't help it, though; his best friend's sibling is just too cute.

A/N: Reader can be imagined as biological/adopted/found family.

DICK GRAYSON & WALLY WEST

How Dick hadn't learnt to not leave his phone unattended was beyond Wally, especially when, for a vigilante, the man had such lax security for his personal phone. Nor should he have ever trusted Wally with the password.

Already drafting his absolute PR nightmare tweet on Dick's account, he's mentally rubbing his evil little hands together when his thumb hits the banner notification that pops up on the top of the screen.

My Heart: Thinking about you, come home soon xo

Alongside the text is a photo, a very suggestive photo of a woman dressed in nothing but one of Dick's hoodies. Wally knows because he bought Dick that hoodie, he's also very familiar with the woman in the photo on account of it being his baby sister.

He shrieks, the phone slipping from his slack with shock grip and landing on his big toe.

He doesn't hear the ringtone over his sudden stream of pained expletives, hopping on one foot, until he hears your voice from the speaker.

"Hey babe! You left your hoodie at - "

"YOU!" Wally screams, blubbering incoherently, pointing an accusing finger at the phone like you can see him.

"Jesus Christ," he can practically see you recoiling away from your phone, "Wally?" You've heard enough of your brother's meltdowns over the years that you can recognise him from just a single word.

"YOU, YOU - YOU HARLOT!" You snort at his words, staying silent until his stream of consciousness is finished.

"You done?" You hum, completely unphased at the tantrum Wally's just thrown for the past seven minutes.

"Am I, am I done? No, I'm not done." He squawks, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" There's a beat of incredulous silence on your end.

"Excuse me? What have I done to you?"

"DEFILED THE SACRED BOND OF BROTHERHOOD IS WHAT YOU'VE DONE, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND"

"The sacred bond of brotherhood? I'm your fucking sibling, you're supposed to attack him, not me!" Wally can't help but notice how you don't deny his words.

"Oh, believe me, Dickhead is gonna get what's coming to him."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm hanging up now, tell Dick I'm getting pizza for dinner."

"Don't you dare - " He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before you've followed through.

"Hey Wally, have you seen my ... phone?" Dick trails off as he spots the item he's looking for in his agitated friend's hand.

"You don’t fuck your best friends younger sibling. That’s like the number one rule of bro code!” Wally shrieked, not greeting him like a normal person, and not giving Dick even a second to realise what was happening before he was being grabbed and shaken by his shoulders.

"I love her." No explanation, no apologies, just pure earnestness and the softest look Wally had ever seen on his friend's face.

The declaration takes all the wind out of his sails, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He drags a hand down his face slowly,

Finally, he groaned and dragged both hands down his face. "Ugh. I hate that you’re so genuine. It ruins my ability to stay mad. Barry's not going to be happy you kept this from him though."

The mental image of the Flash going protective uncle giving him the slightest bit of sick satisfaction, until Dick shatters his dreams by casually saying, "he already knows."

"He what?! Am I the last to know?" Dick makes a show of thinking about it before shrugging with an unapologetic grin.

"Kinda, yeah."

"I'M SURROUNDED BY TRAITORS!" Wally yells, sinking to his knees in defeat.

JASON TODD & ROY HARPER

Nobody had ever accused Roy of being a detective. He might not be as smart as the bats (an impossible hurdle in Roy's opinion), but he wasn't completely fucking stupid.

An unfortunate reality for his sister, who he'd caught sneaking into the Titans Tower at the ripe time of 4:47 am, wearing a familiar leather jacket with a bullet hole in the sleeve. A jacket that could only mean one of two things.

You had joined a biker gang.

You were dating Jason Todd, AKA, his best friend, AKA dead fucking meat.

Because while option one terrified him, he'd still prefer it to the option he had a sinking suspicion about was actually correct.

The next afternoon, he finds Jason working out in the Tower's gym, and he grins wickedly. Bastard didn't even have to make Roy track him down.

"Hey, Roy." Jason greets, never once faltering in his reps, entirely unbothered, like he hadn’t committed emotional treason.

Roy thinks he could be forgiven for his following action, he could have done a lot worse than picking up the nearest kettlebell and throwing it at his unsuspecting friend.

"WHAT THE FUCK ROY?" Jason screeched as he dove for cover.

"YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER?!"

"Um, what?" He squeaks, before clearing his throat, "I mean... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't try to gaslight me!" Roy jabbed a finger at him, seething. "You're supposed to be my best friend, and you went and... and started... canoodling my sister."

Jason’s brows shot up in amusement despite himself. "Canoodling?"

"Don't try and deflect either." Roy flushed as red as his hair.

"I’m not—well. Okay. I am. But in my defense, it wasn’t like I planned to fall for your sister."

"Have you kissed?"

Jason contemplates lying but bites the bullet and nods.

Roy gasped like an old lady hearing someone say cunt. "ON PURPOSE?!"

Jason gave him a flat look. "No, Roy, I tripped and fell. Of course, it was on purpose. More than once, too." He smirks, unable to stop himself from prodding the bear.

Roy spasms.

"Ok, let's not make this weird." Jason huffs.

"Make this weird? It's already weird, we're neck deep in it, NAY!, We're drowning in it!"

"Oh dear god," Jason sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and speaking before he can think better of it, "I love her."

Roy chokes, Jason startles, clearly surprising, even himself, "Oh my god, I love her."

There's a heavy, pained silence before Roy croaks "... Bro"

"I know." Jason tugged at the roots of his hair.

"…BRO." Roy was trying to prevent a panic attack, his panic fuelling Jason's.

"I know."

"You love me?" A slightly giddy voice breathes from the doorway.

Both men groan for different reasons as they spot you bouncing toward them.

"Babe, I -"

"I love you too," you beam, throwing your arms around Jason's neck and kissing him like your life depends on it.

Roy gags, forcing you to pull away. "God, this is gonna ruin every group hang for the rest of my life." He whined.

"Nah. You’ll get used to me kissing your sister in front of you."

"I SWEAR TO GOD —"

TIM DRAKE & CONNER KENT

Conner's knee is jiggling furiously. From across the room, Cassie raises a questioning brow, but Conner makes no effort to stop as he checks the time for the fourth time in less than three minutes.

You're late. So is Tim, but it's not him Conner's worried about. You're never late; you've always been a perpetually early person, and you always get so anxious if you aren't. Conner knows, having been on the receiving end of your time-anxious meltdowns more than once.

"Dude, calm down, they're not even five minutes late yet," Bart says, looking at him as if he's the weird one here, when clearly, something terrible has happened to you.

You've been in a car accident (you don't drive), you've been shot, (you're bulletproof), you've been taken hostage by Lex Luthor (plausible), you've -

"Hi guys, sorry I’m late, I slept through my alarm." You laugh bashfully, avoiding Conner's gaze, which narrows in suspicion.

"That never happens." He scowls, his enhanced hearing picking up the slight stutter in your heartbeat.

"Well, it did today." You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit next to Cassie.

Barely two minutes later, a harried-looking Tim scurries through the door, brushing his sweaty hair from his face, and in doing so, accidentally reveals a hickey just beneath the neckline of his shirt.

It's only for a second, but that one second is all he needs to connect the dots.

"No." He says, glaring at Tim as everyone else, including you, watches in confusion.

"No?" Tim repeats.

"NO!" Conner snarls, jumping up from his seat and pulling down the neckline of Tim's shirt to display not one, but three love bites.

"YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER?!"

"Technically, there wasn't much sleeping involved - " Tim mutters, with absolutely zero regard for his well-being.

"I trusted you with my life, and you go behind my back to DEFLOWER MY INNOCENT BABY SISTER?!"

"You're the same age?" Tim mumbles at the same time you scoff.

"Deflower? Innocent? Are we living in the Middle Ages? Are you my owner?"

"Stay out of this!" Conner whirls on you, his gaze dangerously red.

"Stay out of my own sex life?" You guffaw, ignoring the way Conner puffs up like an angry cat. "Besides, Tim's hardly my first."

Your words are enough to shock your brother enough that he drops Tim, reeling back with a hand on his chest like he's suffering a heart attack.

You take the opportunity to scoop your partner into your arms, flying away before Kon can recover, until you reach the safety of the bed you've both only just left.

"I think he's actually going to kill me." Tim mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"Hmm, guess you''ll just have to keep me around forever, for protection."

"Sounds perfect." Tim dreamily says, clutching you even tighter in contentment.

BRUCE WAYNE & CLARK KENT

Once, there would have been a time when interviewing Gotham’s Bruce Wayne would have left him an anxious wreck, but now, Clark relished in the opportunity. Giddy that his best friend, no matter how much the man denied it, would turn to him (him! A Metropolis interloper), instead of someone like that tart Vicki Vale.

(That thought has him mentally apologising to his ma for his crudeness, but what she wouldn't know, couldn't hurt her.)

Needless to say, Clark was excited to have been given the chance, and he refused to squander it.

They were in Bruce's "office," a room they both knew he hardly ever even stepped foot inside, but had occupied to keep up the facade.

A brilliant facade it was, Clark thought in amusement, as he watched Brucie Wayne ramble on earnestly. Nobody would ever suspect the man, reaching for his wallet to pull out a picture of his kids in an interview on Wayne Enterprises' newest ventures, to be the fearsome Batman.

Clark, ever affable, just smiles, nodding along until a second picture flutters onto the desk. Bruce freezes, his perfected mask slipping just a fraction, but enough for Clark to notice as the unshakeable man's eyes widen in sheer panic.

Bruce was composed. He was always in control, a master of self-control. Bruce was unflappable, he had a plan for everything.

Bruce, evidently, did not have a plan, beyond freezing in horror, for when an intimate Polaroid of his girlfriend, Clark's sister, landed face up on the table between them.

You're wearing one of his button-up shirts, seated sideways across Bruce's lap, the man's large hand clasped over your thigh, as you stare up at him like he's your whole world.

Clark paused, staring at the photo on the desk like it was a live grenade.

Bruce, very carefully, snuck a hand out to retrieve it. Only to be thwarted by Clark's superspeed. He holds it between his thumb and his index finger like it might bite him, the blinding grin never once fading from his face.

Bruce thinks it's the most terrifying Clark has ever looked.

There's a long pause, with Bruce mentally calculating how long it will take before he has some Kryptonite on his hands and whetehr or not Clark will flatten him before then.

"Oh my god," Clark said.

Bruce grimaced. "It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you're dating my sister."

"Ok, it's exactly what it looks like, but—" He cuts off once more as Clark speaks with surprising giddiness.

"You carry her around in your wallet. Like a real boyfriend, it's sickeningly sweet."

Bruce opened his mouth, closing it and opening it again repeatedly like a stunned fish as he blushed a brilliant red.

Clark wasn’t finished; if anything, he looked like Christmas had come early.

"Is there more?" Bruce stiffens, "There is! Do you have a shrine? I bet you have a shrine!"

"Clark."

"Is it in the batcave?"

"Clark."

"What about a scrapbook? Is she on the manor walls yet?"

"Clark."

"Do your kids know? Wait, am I the last to know?!" He seemed genuinely hurt by that thought.

Bruce looked up at the ceiling like it could save him from the confrontation; he thinks he'd rather fight than... whatever the hell, it is Clark's doing.

[coralaura]

Primadonna

"You say that I'm kinda difficult”

Your father was never a present figure; sometimes, he would see you, give you a pat on the head, and disappear into the darkness of the mansion.

In reality, he vanished for the entire day, especially when the sun set, and the moon greeted the sky. Like all the other inhabitants of the mansion, nighttime was when you were left alone and could wander without anyone noticing or caring.

Every now and then, you’d see Alfred, but he, too, would soon disappear. It didn’t bother you; in fact, it gave you free time, allowing you to take late modeling jobs without anyone asking the typical questions: “Why are you coming home so late?” or “What were you doing outside so late?”

Sometimes, you went out with friends (if you could call them that people you used and who defended you when someone doubted your innocence). Rarely, you stayed in the enormous mansion, but honestly, you didn’t care where you were.

And it wasn’t like they cared about what you did or where you were, so maybe that’s why you didn’t care when Dick left the mansion. When Jason arrived—his unwanted presence and lack of manners—it was annoying, especially when he dared to compare his mother to yours. How dare he compare the two?! Despite that insult, spoken right to your face, you simply smiled. But inside, you were about to beat him senseless, to put that fool in his place for comparing your beloved mother to his and when he died, you cried at the funeral, pretending to be in pain, mourning the loss of a life.

But deep down, you felt nothing for him. Sure, his death was gruesome and ruthless, but it wasn’t like you felt anything beyond antipathy for the poor devil in the coffin. When Tim arrived at the mansion, you couldn’t have cared less. After all, you would only see him for a few weeks before heading off to university, so your interactions were minimal, barely enough to count on one hand.

Alfred saw you off with a smile, though there was a hint of sadness in it. He didn’t try to stop you or convince you not to move out; in fact, he encouraged you to pursue your career, as long as you sent some sign of life a letter or a text message. But let’s be honest, student life was expensive, and as a model, you made little money for just a few hours of work. So, when you had to choose between your studies and a full-time modeling career, the choice was obvious you went with the long-term option and pursued your modeling career. No one was supposed to know. You’d write to Alfred, telling him you were still studying, just to keep him from worrying.

In reality, you could have been in Metropolis, about to step into a photoshoot. But of course, things couldn’t stay perfect forever. Some idiot spotted you and then compared you to Bruce Wayne. And for the first time in years, people seemed to have more than two brain cells because the question immediately popped up all over the internet:

"Is it just me, or do Bruce Wayne and Y/N look alike?"

And unfortunately, they attached your image right next to that billionaire’s. To say that the media explosion and the interview requests for both you and Bruce were the worst possible thing that could happen was an understatement. As headlines and news reports flooded in, you bit your nails in frustration, enraged by your inability to control the situation.

So, when they asked about your parents or if you were a poor orphan, you responded with a warm smile—though deep inside, you were disgusted that you couldn’t just avoid answering or shut those nosy reporters down.

"I have no parents."

Most people, moved by your kind smile and the false tears welling in your eyes, dropped the subject and moved on with their lives. But the press always loved fresh, juicy gossip, especially when it involved Bruce Wayne.

Since your father didn’t comment or give an interview, part of you assumed he either didn’t care or considered it a minor issue his PR team could handle. For a moment, you thought you had dodged this problem. Until you saw him in the middle of a photoshoot—waiting for you to finish so he could talk to you. And, of course, right behind him was his family… or rather, his walking orphanage.

Alfred believed in you. He loved you like a father loves his child. You were practically the normal kid he had always wished Bruce could be so sweet, so innocent. But when he saw your face in the morning paper, next to your father’s, with the full story laid out, for the first time… he felt disappointed in you.

Why would you hide something like this?

Did you not trust him?...

It hurt him, but deep down, he knew you must have had a reason for keeping your modeling career a secret. Maybe his thoughts consumed him for too long because Damian’s voice pulled him back to reality.

“What are you reading, Pennyworth?"

“It seems the press has discovered the connection between Master Bruce and Master Y/N.”

Damian frowned in confusion. He had never heard of you. Taking the newspaper from Alfred’s hands, he scanned the headline and the full story, noting your features and how similar you looked to his father. The picture they used of you was… bold, striking. He wondered if you were really family, but Alfred had called you "Master Y/N," so you must have been. Damian didn’t waste time.

He stormed to his father, slamming the newspaper onto his desk, demanding answers. Bruce raised an eyebrow at his behavior until he read the headline and saw your picture. The only thing Bruce thought in that moment was how much you had grown.

How tall were you now?

He picked up the paper, reading the article, noticing how you denied any connection to him or his family. He didn’t understand.

Had he done something to make you reject him?

Thinking about it left a bitter taste in his mouth. The more he read, the more that bitterness spread.

“Who are them, Father?”

Finally, Damian asked. The answer was simple yet so complicated. You were his child, his firstborn, and yet he had no idea how to be a proper father. He had never seen you in the mansion, maybe because he never had time, maybe because he felt guilty, knowing he could never raise a normal child. He could only raise someone to become a vigilante.

"They are your siblings."

And that was the beginning of the end of your modeling career. Because, in the end, it was only natural for your father to crave control, both as Bruce and as Batman. It was something you had inherited from him.

When you saw your father there, standing in the middle of your shoot, clearly annoyed that you had noticed him and yet continued with your session, you knew he would eventually step in. Still, you wanted to push his patience, to see how long he could endure before leaving. But you hadn’t counted on your manager asking you to stop the session to talk to him instead. You sighed. He was just doing his job, though a part of you couldn’t help but glare at him, hating that he was wasting your time.

"What is it, Ethan?"

You didn’t even acknowledge Bruce. Instead, you spoke to your manager, Ethan, who forced a tense smile, silently begging you to be respectful.

"Bruce Wayne is here to see you."

He emphasized the last name, almost as if reminding you of your place beneath the great Wayne name. Not that he knew the truth, that Bruce’s blood ran through your veins and that your striking resemblance was nothing but shared genetics.

"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Grayson, and company, what brings you here?"

You didn’t bother greeting them. You recognized a few faces, but most were either forgotten or simply unknown to you. And honestly, you didn’t care.

"Y/N, we need to talk."

Your father's deep voice and condescending gaze turned to you, hating that he spoke to you that way, as if you were a child, when in reality you were more than him, more than any of them, you were Y/N, the person that everyone would pay for because at some point you would look at them or simply greet them, there were people who would kill for a simple touch from you.You hid your displeasure in the mask that you always wore on your face that was difficult to remove, the one that had buried itself in your face and had taken root until you simply couldn't get it off, at least not until you were alone and no one could see your true and unpleasant personality that eclipsed your cute face and false golden boy personality.

You thought about the possibility of being rude to them, after all it's not like they could prove that you were something of theirs, you still had your mother's last name and they had never seen you with the Waynes until now, besides, who could blame you? Being rude was your privilege for being a model and also being attractive, it would be your first time being rude to someone, besides, everyone knew you, you were so kind that the ones who would end up being reproached for things would be the Waynes, so you decided.

“I don’t want to and if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do”

For the first time, your father stopped looking at you with that condescending look and in its place there was something you couldn’t identify. Anger? Indignation? Frustration? Surprise? You didn’t know and honestly you didn’t care, you were surely the first or at least one of the few people who says no to your father’s face and in front of so many people, that thought made you smile to yourself, it was the satisfaction and pride of making that cold expression of your father go away.

“But it's always someone else's fault”

[iydiamartinx]

THE ART OF RESTRAINT

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

divider by: @cafekitsune & @iydiamartinx word count: 1.9k synopsis: They’ve always known how to win. But when a charity photoshoot puts Gotham’s most ruthless CEOs in each other’s arms, in nothing but their underwear—they’re forced to face the one game neither is willing to lose. a/n: I thought I loved the Dick and Jason version but I've changed my mind. Bruce is just something else.

Gotham elite and the tabloids loved a spectacle. And this year’s calendar fundraiser had done the impossible—put you on a bed, half-dressed, with him.

Bruce Wayne.

Heir. CEO. Gotham’s golden obsession. A man carved from legacy and wealth, currently in the prime of a life most people would kill to live. Late thirties, sharp as the suits he wore, and infuriatingly at ease in his own skin. That steel-cut jawline had graced Forbes, GQ, and headlines you tried very hard to ignore. 

You’d fought him in boardrooms. Matched wits at galas. Outbid him in billion-dollar deals where charm was just a sharper blade. The two of you were constantly battling for ground. And now, here you were.

Not behind a podium. Not across a negotiation table.

But a bed.

Both of you had been voted Gotham’s hottest CEOs in a public poll that your PR team had insisted was a win. Visibility, they called it. Brand power. A good cause. You weren’t even sure how your assistant thought you’d agree to something like this—but they had said yes on your behalf, and now you were locked in.

There was no room for protest. No way to claw your dignity back without headlines.

So you wore the robe. Sat at the vanity. Pretended like you weren’t already counting the ways you’d make that assistant’s life hell.

And then he stepped out from behind the modesty screen.

Wearing black boxer-briefs and nothing else, Bruce Wayne crossed the set like a man walking into his own penthouse. Calm. Controlled. Completely unbothered in his own skin. You watched him in the mirror without turning your head, studying the way his body moved—fluid and composed, like none of this fazed him.

Of course it didn’t.

He thrived on this kind of thing. Power plays. Publicity. Knowing eyes were on him. There was a reason he was Gotham’s most eligible bachelor.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” he said, voice low and smooth as he came to stand behind you. His reflection met yours in the glass—eyes dark, unreadable. “You’ve never struck me as the modest type.”

You tilted your head slightly, arching a brow without breaking eye contact.

“And you’ve never struck me as the type to sell yourself in stretch cotton,” you replied coolly.

His mouth curved. “Charity humbles us all.”

“Funny,” you said, reaching for a brush you didn’t need, just to keep your hands busy. “I thought I did that.”

He didn’t laugh.

But the smile deepened.

“You try.”

That was the thing with Bruce. Behind the easy grins and playboy attitude, he was sharper than most people recognized and it was because of that you were always on your guard. That man’s charm could be even deadlier than his money and the last thing you needed was to fall victim to it.

The photographer clapped, bright and overly eager. “Alright! Let’s get started.”

Bruce moved first, taking his place on the bed. 

“Y/N, on Bruce’s lap. Bruce—hands wherever feels natural. Make it look like you’ve already crossed the line.”

You glanced toward the man now lounging at the edge of the bed, legs spread in unapologetic confidence. One arm draped lazily behind him, the other resting beside his thigh. You gritted your teeth at how he annoyingly seemed to own the space without trying.

You stood, letting the robe slip from your shoulders.

The silk whispered down your frame and pooled at your feet, and the air shifted. It felt as if it suddenly got thicker with tension.

Your black lingerie was lined with lace and tailored to flatter, pushing up your breasts, flattering the curves of your body, it had been handpicked by your stylist to make headlines. The lingerie was made for you.

And the way Bruce looked at you—like something feral had briefly flashed behind his composed mask—told you he knew it too.

He recovered quickly, of course. He always did. His eyes met yours again, calm and calculating, as if he hadn’t just raked over you with the quiet hunger of a man starved

You stepped toward the bed, the sound of your heels echoing over polished concrete. 

Bruce Wayne looked like sin in monochrome—black boxer briefs, bronzed skin, hair just a little too tousled to be accidental. Smug, unbothered, and very aware of the weight of your gaze.

You exhaled slowly and climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders. His palms slid to your waist instantly—firm, practiced, far too at ease.

“Comfortable?” he asked, voice low and edged with amusement.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you murmured, even as your fingers curled at the nape of his neck.

“Closer,” the photographer called. “Less posed, more like—God, I don’t know—like someone’s about to make a very bad decision.”

Your body shifted automatically. You leaned in until your nose nearly brushed his cheekbone, your lips hovering beside his jaw.

“Better?” you said, saccharine-sweet for the camera.

His hands tightened just slightly, fingers pressing into the curve of your waist—possessive, anchoring. “Getting there,” He grunted.

You pulled back slightly to make eye contact.

Your fingers slid from the nape of his neck to the edge of his jaw, thumb brushing lightly across the stubble there. His skin was warm, the tension beneath it taut like coiled wire—contained, but ready to snap.

“Good,” the photographer called again, sounding far too pleased. “Now move a little. Let’s get a story going. Y/N, take the lead. Bruce—let her.”

Sliding your hands down the front of his chest, you let your fingers trace the ridges of muscle beneath smooth skin. His breathing didn’t change, but you could feel the heat rising between you. He didn’t move—didn’t so much as twitch.

But you felt the breath he held.

You pressed firmly against his chest until his body gave under your hands.

Bruce let himself fall back against the bed, but the look in his eyes as he did was anything but yielding.

You followed him down, never breaking eye contact, your knees still bracketing his hips. One hand braced beside his head, the other resting against his stomach. Your hair slid over your shoulder, framing the sharp curve of your jaw and the wicked curl of your smile

Your lips grazed the slope of his collarbone.

You could feel the tension in his abdomen when your fingers brushed against it. Felt the control—the restraint—bleeding off of him in waves.

The photographer was muttering something about intensity and chemistry and God bless Gotham as his camera went off like crazy, but you barely heard him, your attention was fully on the silent challenge that was between you and bruce.

You trailed lower, just slightly, letting your mouth skim over the edge of his sternum. Then down. Slower. Your breath hot against his skin as you moved further, nearing the waistband of his briefs.

You smiled, lips ghosting just above the line of fabric.

Bruce’s hands snapped to your waist—strong, unrelenting—and the world tilted.

He turned you beneath him in a single, brutal sweep of motion. The mattress caught your back with a soft thud, air leaving your lungs in a sharp exhale as your spine met the sheets.

You barely had time to gasp before he was above you—on you—pressing you down with nothing but presence.

His thigh slid between yours. His weight settled in close.

One palm braced near your ribs.

The other wrapped, firm and steady, around your throat.

His thumb traced the underside of your jaw, tipping your face up toward his. His voice a rasp only you could hear. “Are you done pretending you’re in control?”

You stared up at him, pulse hammering under his touch, refusing to look away. You hated how easily your breath hitched. How good he looked above you like this. Like power incarnate, dressed in nothing but black and confidence.

Your nails grazed his ribs in response. Just enough to remind him you were going to fold to him that easily.

“No,” you whispered, lips parted, breath trembling just enough to betray the pulse hammering in your throat. “But it’s cute that you think you are.”

His smile was slow. Measured. Dangerous. The kind of smile that made men break and corporations crumble. 

“You’re cute when you lie,” He murmured.

His grip shifted, tightening warningly. A sharp breath escaped your lips before you could stop it, as he suddenly moved. Leaning back, he dragged you up with him by the throat like it was effortless. His hand adjusted, tilting your chin higher, forcing your eyes back to his.

Click.

Flash.

The sound of the shutter cracked through the charged silence like distant thunder.

“Beautiful,” the photographer called from somewhere outside the haze. “Hold that. Bruce, shift your hand—yes, just like that. Now lean in, like you’re about to kiss her.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Bruce leaned down slowly, deliberately, until his lips hovered a breath above yours—so close that his exhale ghosted across your skin, warm and maddening. Every molecule of air between you felt electric, buzzing with the threat of something unraveling.

But he didn’t touch you.

Didn’t close the gap.

You weren’t pretending anymore. Neither of you were. The shoot, the cameras, the lights—they’d all faded into background noise.

This wasn’t about a calendar.

This wasn’t about charity.

This was about control.

And God help you… you were losing.

Your body had gone still beneath him, pliant under the weight of his dominance. You could feel the fine tremor of anticipation humming through your limbs, the heat pooling between your legs as your breath caught and your lips parted—soft, instinctive, traitorous.

Bruce’s voice was barely audible—more breath than sound. “Say it.”

You blinked up at him, pupils blown wide. “Say what?”

“That you want me.”

Your jaw clenched. A flicker of something sharp passed through your eyes—anger, maybe. Or pride, stubborn to the last breath.

He waited. Poised. Patient. A man who always got what he wanted—and knew it.

“I want…” you began, slow and deliberate, your fingers trailing down his side. The heat of him scorched under your touch. You let your hand drag over every inch like a threat, like a dare. “…you off me.”

He smiled. That same maddening, ruinous smile.

But he didn’t move.

“Liar.”

Your breath caught at the back of your throat, just a hitch—but it was enough. He felt it. You knew he did.

Click.

Flash.

The camera shutter broke the silence, loud and sudden.

“Perfect!” the photographer shouted. “Don’t move. That’s the cover.”

But neither of you were listening.

Not until the sharp, sudden clapping of the photographer cut clean through the tension like a knife through silk.

“That was wonderful, you two,” he said, breathless, awestruck. “Let’s call it a wrap.”

The spell broke.

Bruce pulled away without a word, and the absence of his weight was immediate. Jarring. The air felt colder without him, your skin a little too bare where he’d touched you—like your body hadn’t gotten the message that it was over.

He stood and adjusted the robe slung over the back of a nearby chair, but didn’t bother putting it on. Just draped it over his arm, muscles shifting beneath golden skin. He looked as if the entire encounter hadn’t phased him at all.

You sat up slowly, smoothing your hair back with a practiced hand, doing your best to pretend your heart wasn’t still pounding in your chest.

“I’ll see you at the charity gala,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just manhandled you for the cameras and whispered sin into your skin.

You didn’t answer. Just watched him walk away.

Just before disappearing around the corner, he turned his head and looked at you. That same impossible expression on his face. Not smug. Not soft. Something in between. Something far more dangerous.

Your eyes narrowed.

This wasn’t over. Game on.

Next Chapter →

[yj-polycule]

For some reason the Justice League and all of their associates need to boost their public opinion, so they decided to open tiktok accounts for the respective hero teams, in hopes that showing the more 'regular' side of the heroes will change public opinion of them.

Never has a single idea worked so well and backfired in such a miraculous way.

Originally, the Justice League's page was the leaguers attempting to do whatever popular trend that was happening, but failing in the kind of way that parents or older people who don't fully get the trend do. Like, they get the concept of the trend, but they really don't understand why it's a trend of what the actual point of it is.

It's not until the account gets taken over by Hal, Oliver and surprisingly, Bruce that it actually starts to go viral with its content. Instead of adhering to trends, its a lot of behind the scenes content. Embarrassing moments of the league caught on camera without them knowing, a few bits of scripted comedy.

The most popular video on the page is Batman reading over the 'dumbest budgetary requests from each member of the league' with a monotone voice and expression. Lots of questions are raised as to where the hell the league get's all their money. None get answered.

The Titan's also start off with trends, but are doing a lot more dance trends than anything. They're all just a bit too good at dancing to not absolutely kill every trend. If there is a song going viral, you can bet your life on it that the Titans have already choreographed and filmed something for it.

A few trends also spawn off the Titan's tiktok, but they are mostly people trying to recreate some of the dumbest tricks they have seen them do in their videos, and fail spectacularly because 'there's no way a human can actually move like that'. The Trend "The Reason I'm not a Titan" (similar to the not make the olympics trend) goes mega viral, and even has some of the younger heroes doing it, including videos of them all fumbling during hero work and patrols.

It's Young Justice's account that makes the league regret this entire idea, because unlike the older heroes, they actually understand the trends, and they are fully aware as to what they're doing. Trauma Candy Salads. We Listen and We Don't Judge. Hear Me Out Cake, all of them are done by Young Justice much to the amusement of the public and absolute horror of the rest of the hero community.

The infamous clip of Slobo putting Lex Luthor on their hear me out cake, only to have Superboy screaming "MY DAD?!" and have the video sharply cut off with Red Robin and Wondergirl loosing their absolute shit in the background goes insanely viral because 1) people didn't know Lex Luthor was Superboys Dad and 2) Is that infamous bounty hunter and known adversary of superman Lobo?

Young Justice proceeds to loose access to this account for a week, while the Justice League and Lex both try to do PR Damage control. From that point forward Young Justice needs to have their tiktoks approved by either Red Tornado or a member of the league before they post it. (That also only lasts a week. But the public love it)

[witherby]

i need more damian x mer!reader plssss😞😞😞 im literally OBSESSED with it

YOU'RE ALL SUCH SWEETIES!!! Ok gang, just for you 🩷

⚠️ HEADS UP: this part features conflict. There's blood, some unintentional self harm, language barriers, and general chaos! ⚠️

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 4

Click to read parts 1, 2, and 3 here!

There's another rock sitting on the lip of the tank — one of the painted, water-safe ones they let you have — when Damian and Bruce arrive for dinner.

It's the weekend, meaning the aquarium is closed, and it takes a little more smacking on the surface of the water than usual for you to pop up. You shoot Bruce a disinterested glance, his presence vaguely familiar, then chirp sleepily at Damian, evidently having been awoken from a nap.

"Hey, Pr—" Damian catches himself and fakes a cough, then addresses you by your actual name. You furrow your brow, irritated, but still reach forward to take the offered bucket.

Holding it carefully in one arm, your other, webbed hand nudges the rock into Damian's lap. Damian pockets it with an easy nod, signing Thank You. Delighted, you offer him some crab after splitting the shell open with your teeth. He declines. Oh well; more for you!

Eating in front of Damian is little issue, but having Bruce stare at you so intently makes you turn away, hugging the food to your chest and rumbling quietly. Conversation floats in the air behind you.

" — might already be bonded. How often...swim together?"

"At least twice a....insisted it wasn't harming...wouldn't if I realized...promise."

Hmm. Your mate-to-be sounds upset. You dislike that greatly. You spit a half-chewed carp back into the bucket.

"Damian, I know...not mad at you for...unprecedented, you understand that, right? This...to a wild animal...vastly unintelligent..."

You growled and spun back around, tail swishing around fast enough to make the surface of the tank slightly choppy. Unintelligent?! Who was unintelligent? You learned every stupid spin, squeak, and trick you'd been taught! And your Damian was the brightest, kindest, most special caretaker in this whole place!

Bruce looks at you in confusion. Damian looks at you with awe, because he knows you're smart enough to pick up on the gist of most things, like the conversation they're having with each other. English is not your mother tongue, but you are learning, slowly and steadily. Because you are not unintelligent!

You bare your teeth, snapping them twice at Bruce, and firmly push the half-empty bucket over the lip of the tank. It clatters to the floor, the metal twang echoing around the room loud enough to make your head-fins flatten. Both land creatures jump back to avoid getting fish guts all over their legs (a word you learned recently, because you're very smart!), but Damian comes back to the edge of the tank to soothe you quickly.

"Easy, Princess," he mutters, the nickname slipping out this time. You preen and rest your chin on his extended palm, blinking up at his beautiful, green eyes. Your tail stops swishing as hard, and he seems to ease up at the same time you do. Reading your physical cues and responding accordingly is one of the reasons Damian quickly became your favorite, and this demonstration only hits that nail on the head. "Everything is just fine. Father and I are simply talking." He gestures to your discarded dinner. "Do you want any more?"

You huff and turn your face away. Damian takes your dismissal for what it really is and looks at Bruce next.

"You should apologize."

His father's eyes widen. "For what? I didn't throw a bucket on the ground."

"For the slight regarding their cognitive ability. You hurt their feelings." Damian sounds offended on your behalf. It makes something in your chest thrum pleasantly. "I'll fetch a broom for the mess while you say you're sorry."

"I can grab the broom —" one sharp look from his son quiets Bruce down immediately. You and he both watch Damian leave the room, then the human regards you warily while you regard him with a scowl.

Bruce tries to approach the tank. You bare your teeth and he stops. Good human. Good, rude human. Do not approach. You are very scary and fearsome. You might just use your teeth for something more than food if sufficiently provoked.

"You really can understand me, can't you?" He asks, almost rhetorically. The flat look you give him makes his cheeks flush with color. "You can. That's...fascinating. I've skimmed your file of course — I co-run the aquarium, I have to be knowledgeable of all the animals — but I obviously don't know you like my son does."

Ugh. This land creature uses small words. Damian uses big words, which helps you learn faster even if it's more difficult to latch onto what he's talking about.

Bruce calls your name again, and your eyes snap to his. He looks less embarrassed and more curious. More like he's recognizing you as a being capable of proper thought and not some dumb, prey animal in a big play pen. Something in you becomes less tense.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "Really. I'm coming from a place of concern, is all. I never intended to hurt your feelings. You mean a lot to my son, and the feeling seems to be mutual. My concern is just...the extent of the feeling. Damian doesn't have many human friends, and hiring him on to help manage the aquarium hasn't encouraged him in that regard. I just don't...I just want him to..."

He trails off and sighs. This time, when Bruce tries to take a step closer, you keep your teeth hidden behind your lips. He perches on the lip of the tank to look at you, blue eyes taking in all your aquatic features. They're pretty, reminding you of the water, but not as pretty as Damian's.

Just for fun, you puff up and flare out all of your fins just to see him flinch back. Your chirping laughter makes Bruce crack his own smile, and he shakes his head.

"I understand why he adores you," he mutters, something fond in his tone. You sway back and forth in the water with a prideful trill. Obviously you adore him back. That's why you gave him your scales, to prove your devotion. As soon as Damian gives you something valuable back, you'll be life-mates! You're so excited!

"I think... I think that's the biggest reason why I have to separate you two."

You freeze when your brain processes what he just said. Damian reenters the room at that moment, carrying a broom and dust pan to sweep up your abandoned meal.

"Those imbecilic interns moved the cleaning supplies again," he scowls, taking care of the food with a shake of his head. "I swear, father, no one knows how to put anything back in this facility. Some days it feels like Tim and I are the only competent people here."

"And your old man, right?" Says Bruce, rising to his feet. Damian doesn't answer that. "Oh, ouch." His teasing tone shifts, becomes earnest and quiet. "You know I only want what's best for you, right, Tadpole?"

"I know," the boy sighs, dumping the food into a nearby garbage can. He turns to face you, smiling, until he sees the fear on your face. "Something wrong?"

You click your tongue and whistle imploringly, lifting a hand out of the water to beckon him closer. Damian moves to comply, but Bruce's hand curling around his arm impedes his progress. You immediately whistle again, more insistent. More distressed.

"Father, let go, they're upset by something. Let me —"

"I can't do that, kiddo," Bruce frowns, firmly but not unkindly. "I'm reassigning them a new primary caretaker. The emotional attachment to you is too detrimental to their life here."

Damian's eyes widen. "You're not serious."

He tries to yank his arm out of Bruce's grip, but the man is taller and stronger than his son. He wraps his other arm around Damian's waist, guiding him towards the doors.

"Father, let go of me! This is not — everything is fine! I-I won't swim in the tank anymore, I won't physically touch them anymore, I promise! Don't do this!"

Your trilling becomes sharper as you note the distress in your beloved's voice. You throw your arms up to the edge of the tank and try to hoist yourself over, but you've never done it without the help of a caretaker, and you slip back into the water with a rough splash. Undeterred, you flick your tail to give you more momentum, scrabbling against the smooth, concrete edge and crooning for Damian.

You see his vibrant, green eyes, focused on you and glittering like your scales. They've never looked so shiny. Instinctively, you know this isn't a positive trait for a land creature to have.

"Stop, please stop! Look at them, they'll get hurt if you take me away," Damian insists, thrashing against his dad. Bruce hangs on tighter, almost dragging him at this point. "Don't — don't, Baba, please, I'm not hurting them at all, I'll figure out how to break off the engagement, I'll do whatever you want!"

"Calm down, Damian," Bruce murmurs, "please, we're gonna talk about this, I promise, but right now you need to —"

Both of them startle when you finally jump out of the tank, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The hard surface scrapes against your skin and scales in a distinctly uncomfortable way, but you ignore it and start dragging your body towards Damian. Your arms buckle under the strain of maneuvering yourself out of the water, and the flopping of your long, heavy tail isn't helping as much as you'd hoped.

Bruce yanks Damian behind him protectively and pulls a radio off his hip. You hiss and snarl, offended that he would dare think you'd hurt him. Damian tries to duck out from under him, calling to you with obvious concern.

You croon back, the sound low and warbly in your anger, and lunge for him. Scales get scraped painfully off of your tail, leaving a trail of red that you pay no mind. Bruce dodges your clumsy attempts and hoists Damian up by the waist so he doesn't break away either. More of your caretakers burst through the doors, one of them holding a funny, shiny contraption, and there's lots more yelling. They all look as panicked and distressed as you feel.

Good. They should know how much pain they're causing by taking away your precious Damian.

One of the caretakers — named Clark, you think; he comes around mostly to do your health checkups — crouches low and flashes his palms in a show of no ill intent. You reach out with your own palm and lurch forward again, shoving him out of your way. He will not impede you. None of them will.

More scales litter the concrete, stained red with blood. The shiny contraption held in another person's hands — Dick, the loud one you remember — makes a sharp popping noise, and you feel something stab your shoulder.

You flinch back momentarily, palming at it. Damian's distressed yelling reaches a crescendo, and you feel compelled to meet it.

Your jaw clicks from stretching your mouth open so wide. Instinct and rage guide you to draw breath, deeper than you ever have, and bellow.

The resulting sound is a haunting wail, piercing the air around you and making the water in the tank ripple, making the land creatures cry and cover their ears, making the windows rattle and warp. You wail and cry and scream at the injustice, at the audacity of these people to take from you what is yours. You want it back. You want him back. You want Damian!

You see Clark buckle and clutch at his head. You see Dick drop the shiny device that hurt you. You see Bruce grit his teeth and cover one ear, the other busy holding onto Damian.

You see Damian pressing his hands to his ears. You see water running down his face. You see him looking at you with a mixture of fear and upset.

Your mouth falls closed with a snap of your teeth, startled and ashamed. You had hurt Damian. You hurt him and he was scared of you now.

That was not supposed to happen. You didn't mean it.

What have you done?

There's movement in your periphery you pay no mind to. Your back lights up with pain in two more places, and the world slowly starts to spin and lose focus. You stop resisting and slump to the floor, eyes drooping as you continue to look forlornly at Damian.

Damian, who looks back as more tears run down his face. Damian, who is screaming again. Damian, who vanishes through the doors that Bruce finally drags him off to.

You warble miserably and close your eyes, letting the sedatives take you away into a fitful slumber.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Morning Glory

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Summary - It’s the morning after you and Bruce confessed your love for one another and there’s only one thing on his mind.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY. Established Relationship, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger Woman, Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Morning Sex, Fluff, Bruce's POV

A/N - Part of the same 'verse as Sippin' on Sunshine but both fics are complete standalones from each other so you don't have to read that one first.

Word Count - 2.7k

When Bruce wakes up, he finds you already wide awake. You’re sitting up in bed, scrolling through your phone like he might read the newspaper at the kitchen table. He lays there for a moment, simply admiring your sleepy, dishevelled state. You’ll resist him if he ever says it outloud, insisting that you don’t because how can you when your hair is a mess and you have no makeup on, but he thinks you look absolutely radiant. 

“We made the front page again,” you tell him. Not even bothering to look up from the screen in front of you.

He sighs as he rolls onto his back and stretches, which is followed by a series of loud cracks and pops from his back and joints. It’s just another reminder of his age and all of the damage he’s done to his body over the years. As he shifts in the bed to sit up, he becomes aware of how tight his pyjama pants feel.

“What did we do this time?” he asks, settling his back against the headboard. You hand him your phone so that he can see the article. It’s a picture of the two of you from late last night. You’re straddling his lap in the car and kissing him. It’s right after you told him that you loved him for the first time. His brow furrows. Even in the middle of the night, where the streets are devoid of life, neither of you can get any privacy outside of him locking you away in a bedroom.

The headline reads: “Way more than a PR stunt.” As soon as he sees the writer, he relaxes a little. Lois Lane. Though he knows he can trust her, he still skims through the article to see what she’s written. The entire article is written in defence of your relationship and even goes as far to debunk some of the things other articles have said. He’s going to have to send her a gift basket. A big one at that.

“At least it’s the Daily Planet and not the Gazette,” he says. 

“Oh no, they posted an article as well,” you reply. 

Bruce huffs. “Let me guess, Vicki?” 

“No, it was Ryder this time.”

He huffs again. “Of course it was,” he mutters. He’s really starting to get sick and tired of all of them. 

He sets your phone down onto the nightstand, switching it to silent and placing it screen down. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, in one fluid movement, he’s dragging you down the bed and pinning you to it, fingers entwinning with yours as he holds your hands above your head. 

“I’ll call my lawyers later. For now though, I have something else on my mind.”

Bruce rolls his hips, letting you feel his morning wood press up against you. You gasp as your hips buck, creating friction that has his breath stuttering. Apparently he’s not the only one who’s woken up with a problem that needs addressing.

“Last night you were fretting about your age, yet here you are. Ready to ravage me and you’ve barely been awake five minutes,” you laugh softly.

Bruce hums as he nuzzles his face against you, just under your jaw before starting to press soft kisses to your neck. “How can I resist when I’m waking up to such a beautiful woman?” 

He pulls away and you look at him like you don’t quite believe him. Before you can try and argue against him, he’s pressing his lips against yours. Any protest of his compliment dies on your tongue as you moan into the kiss. As you two kiss, you hook one of your legs over his hip and pull him more flush against you, grinding your groin against his.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, his cock twitching in his pyjama pants.

“I’m hoping we will,” you reply, breathlessly.

“Oh, we’re not leaving this room today.”

He untwines his fingers from yours so that he can pull your shirt off. In reality it’s actually one of his shirts, but you love to steal them from him and he’s not complaining. You look damn good in his clothes, though you look even better with nothing, but some expensive jewellery on. He chucks it to the side, not caring where it falls, and his head ducks down and his mouth is already closing around one of your nipples. He swirls his tongue around the hardened bud before gently tugging on it with his teeth. The action has you gasping as your fingers run through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. He groans again, enjoying the feeling of your nails.

He litters your chest with lovebites before repeating his actions with your other breast. You won’t be wearing anything super revealing for a while. Or maybe you still will. Show off to the world who you belong to. If he ever lets you out of this bed ever again.

Bruce loves the way that you respond to him. Back arching into his touch, fingers buried in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as the softest gasps and moans leave you. Those sweet noises of yours will only grow with his head buried between your legs. That thought has him releasing your nipple and trailing kisses down your body. 

When he reaches you underwear, he smiles. The growing, dark, wet patch on the crotch evidence of how aroused you are. He inhales your scent deeply before licking a bold stripe against your clothed cunt. The taste of you soaked into the fabric has his cock throbbing with the need to be buried deep inside of you. 

Ignoring your protests, he rips your underwear off of you and discards the ruined material somewhere off to the side. You get over the ruined garment pretty quickly, spreading your legs wider and showing off your glistening pussy. Bruce swallows thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing. He settles between your legs, hands coming up to hold your hips, getting ready to dive in and devour you. He’ll have you screaming his name in no time.

A knock at the door stops him right before his mouth comes into contact with you. Irritation flares through him and glares over his shoulder, at the door. At least, whoever it is, has the decency to knock and wait.

“What is it?” he calls, his voice sharp as he refuses to hide his irritation at being interrupted.

“Mr Kent is here. He says it’s important,” Alfred’s voice calls through the door. “And I’m afraid he isn’t going to take no for an answer.”

Bruce sighs. He’s been ignoring every text and call from him all weekend so he could be with– he had promised no interruptions– so he probably should have expected this. Still, if it’s not his public persona ruining things, it’s his mask. Sitting up, you cup his face and bring him close to you, your lips just barely brushing against his own.

“Ten minutes?” you ask.

It’s not the morning, or day, he imagined the two of you having, but it’s better than leaving you both wound up all day. He’s still going to be making it up to you later though and he already has plenty of ideas on how.

“I’ll be down in fifteen,” he calls back.

“Of course, sir. I’ll let him know.”

As Alfred’s steps retreat and eventually fade into nothing, Bruce pins you to the bed again. As he kisses you, you’re shifting beneath him. Your legs coming up to either side of his hips and your toes hooking into the waistband of his pyjamas so that you can shove them down. Finally freeing his cock from its clothed prison. He helps you get rid of them the rest of the way and then he’s spreading your legs further. He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head through your folds, coating himself in your slick. Even going as far as to tease your clit which has you sharply inhaling. Then he’s burying himself inside of you, right down to the hilt in a single thrust. The moan that leaves you is loud. Loud enough that Bruce is sure that it could be heard from well beyond the confines of the bedroom, even without super hearing.

It takes everything within him not to immediately start moving. His mind focused on giving you the time you need to adjust to his size. No matter how many times you take him, he’s still a lot for you and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. You have other ideas though. You’re too impatient to wait for him this morning so you roll your hips, doing your best to fuck yourself on his cock. It makes holding himself back almost impossible.

“Brucie, please move,” you whine softly. Slowly getting frustrated with his lack of movement.

You always ask him so sweetly. Even without a time limit, how could he ever refuse you? The pace he sets to start with is a slow one. Dragging his cock along the inside of your sensitive walls, relishing in the way they flutter around him as a now quiet moan leaves your parted lips. That moan grows a little louder when he pushes back in. 

His pace grows a little bit each time that he pushes back in. Low groans leaving him, matching your moans. Your hot, wet cunt feels amazing wrapped around him, turning his brain to mush. Not enough though that he’s completely lost himself in the feeling of you. Well, not yet anyway. Give it some time and he’s sure he will.

Soon enough the sounds of skin against skin fill the room, alongside the squelching of your pussy every time he roughly thrusts back inside, growing louder and louder. You mewl beneath him, your cunt squeezing him tighter than before, drawing deep, throaty groans from him, desperately trying to stop him from leaving your warmth. With the way that you’re gripping him like a vice, he knows that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck,” Bruce growls. He pulls away so he can hike your legs up onto his shoulders. The new angle has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his cock reaches impossible deeper inside of you; turning you into a babbling mess.

He knows that you’re getting close to coming undone. After all, he knows your body like the back of his hand and he can see, and feel, all the telltale signs. The stuttering of your breathing, the tensing of your muscles, the way that your pussy squeezes him more and more, making it harder for him to pull out each time. All you need now is a little push over the edge that you’re teetering on. His thumb presses against your puffy clit, doing his best to rub it in time with his thrusts.

His name leaves you in a sob as your body clamps down on him, your cunt gushing around his cock as your orgasm soaks the sheets beneath you. The sight awakens something inside of him. Something almost primal. His pace slows only for a moment as his eyes become glued to your pussy, taking in the sight of your how your lower lips now glisten with your squirt. 

That moment ends as quickly as it started. As soon as his eyes break away from your pussy and come up to see the half lidded, fucked out expression on your face, he snaps out of his trance. His pace comes back tenfold, starting to fuck you harder and deeper than you would have thought possible. Not even giving you a chance to recover from your first orgasm as he has you headed straight toward the next one.

You’re a ball of oversensitivity, your back arching off of the bed and tears spilling from your eyes as you mewl his name. Whilst Bruce knows that he is completely and utterly pussydrunk. He’s known it for a while, how deep he is under your spell. His pace has completely lost whatever rhythm it once had. Uncoordinated and sloppy as he ruts into you, his cock growing harder and his balls getting tighter, ready to fill you to the brim.

He has half a mind to stay right here. Ignore Clark and spend the day doing what he had intended to begin with. Which involves him staying buried inside of you, keeping you stuffed with his cock and cum. If the previous weekend is anything to go by, it’s certainly something that you would not only enjoy, but deep down crave. Honestly, he craves it as well. 

His thumb stays pressed against your clit as he moves forward, almost folding you in half, so that he can kiss you. The kiss is supposed to be passionate, but ends up being sloppy and messy. It’s all tongue and teeth, but both of you are too far gone to actually care.

Your orgasm takes you both by surprise. Your moans are swallowed by Bruce as the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock, doing it’s best to milk him of every drop he has to offer, sends him over the edge with you. His own moan is deep and guttural as he keeps thrusting, pushing his cum deeper inside of you, like he’s trying to make sure it takes. 

Just as it starts to become painful for him, Bruce slumps against you, letting your legs fall off of his shoulders and back down by his side; his head coming to rest against your chest. The only sound now in the bedroom is yours and Bruce’s heavy breathing as you both come down from your highs.

You run your fingers through his hair as he presses soft kisses down the valley of your breasts and underneath them. He sighs softly, enjoying the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.

Slowly, and gently, he pulls out of you and rolls off of your body, to lay down by your side. Bruce’s fingers entwin with your own once more and he brings your hand up to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to the back of it. 

His reluctance to leave has you giggling. The sound brings a smile to his face. He is being rather childish in the way that he’s dragging this out. Acting like he might never see you again once he leaves this room. Which, honestly, could be true depending on what Clark has come here to discuss. He shoves the thought away, deciding he doesn’t want to think about that right now.

“I’ll still be here when you get back,” you tell him. You free your hand from his grasp so that you can roll onto your front. Draping a leg over his body, you lean up to kiss him. It’s gentle and sweet, just like you are. When you pull away, he chases after your lips, which has you giggling again.

“Go and save the world and when you come back–” you move forward more and press your lips to his ear– “I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Bruce chuckles as his hand comes down to playfully swat you ass. You gasp and playfully hit his chest. It only encourages him as he gives your ass a squeeze as he rubs his nose against your own.

“You should be careful making such promises, princess,” he says, his voice low. “It might come back to bite you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply cheekily. 

Bruce hums as he makes a move to kiss you again. In that exact moment there is a series of knocks at the bedroom door. These ones are louder and rougher. If they were a little bit harder they might forcibly remove the door from its hinges. He grumbles as you pull away and move off of him.

“You should probably go before your friend breaks the door down.”

“If he does that he can pay for it,” Bruce mutters, glaring at the door. He turns his attention back to you. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

He’s already running through the different ways that he can do that in his head. At the top of the list is another getaway, but perhaps for a week instead of just a weekend. He just needs to find someone to look after the city while he’s gone.

[dcxdpdabbles]

ok but office supplier is even funnier if jason hasn't been declared legally alive again and danny starts dating him thus allowing him to both be and not be part of the wayne family

"I have a date," Danny says one random morning as he refills the office snack bar. Danny, in his own words, is one of the highest-paid employees. He has chosen to create a snack center for all Wayne employees. He has one on every three floors, filling it with fruits, chips, chocolate, pudding, and drinks.

And a cabinet with free samples of stationery supplies he thought more people should know about. Next to the supplies, he wrote the name of the product, where to buy, and even recommendations of

Everyone felt really touched by this and started bringing snacks and drinks to help him. Half the time, Danny only refilled the stationary since everyone was happy to have a community snack bar.

"A what!?" Jack from accounting gasped. Danny didn't pay him any mind; he was too busy picking between the flower and moon mini-planners.

Both were pocket-sized, but one had a workout addition, while the other had a section to track books for readers. He felt like there were more readers than gym goers, but he didn't want either to miss out if he picked one over the other.

"A date," he responded after placing both options inside the basket. He'll have to wait to introduce the amazing erasable pens he found, but he could make it up next month.

"With who?" Demanded Sara. She worked in PR and had been attempting to have him attend at least three parties with the Waynes in the past month alone.

"Peter. I met him a week ago at a street fair. One of the personal pen makers I follow would have a booth, and I was dying to see them." Danny pulls a box from his pocket, showcasing the fancy navy blue pen. "This is the George Washington Battle of Princeton edition. It has the painting of the battle wrapped around it, with careful silver-golden details on the cap to resemble the colonial era and a golden-edged nib; this is one fine fountain pen. It cost me five thousand and nine hundred dollars."

"Danny, please focus- five thousand? You spent five thousand on a pen!?"

Danny puffs out his chest, smiling broadly. "It was worth every penny!"

"That's-never mind. Are you sure Peter is a good person?" Jack pressed, "Because I know a great man. Mr. Drake-Wayne! Wouldn't you rather go on a date with him?"

"But Peter bought me easrsers that were shaped like fried chicken. They came in bucket. See." He ramages through his bag until he pulsl out a palm-szed bucket with chicken shaped earses inside. "Isn't it cool?"

"I'll admit that's pretty cool," Sara conceded but shared a quick glance with her coworkers. Danny wonders why they all look so worried. This wasn't that expensive. Peter only used ten dollars for it. "Do you like Peter?"

"I don't know. It's just a first date." He shrugs. "I don't usually have those. Not many people are willing to listen to me ramble about stationary."

"You know who would love to listen to you?" Jack throws an arm around Danny's shoulder. "Mr. Drake-Wayne!"

"Mr. Grasyon-Wayne!"

"Mis Wayne!"

"Mr. Wayne!" Everyone turns to stare at Gary, who flushes, "Bruce Wayne, not Damian!"

That caused some head nods and a few scattered comments about how the age gap was still alarmingly large, but if both were consenting adults, who were they to oppose it? Danny stared back as everyone debated whether Danny and Mr.Wayne should date.

He glances down at his heart-shaped notepads and figures they are right. It's not like he has any feelings about this date. He just agreed to get the passers.

Taking out his phone, he sends Peter a message to cancel their date. He should go out with someone because he likes them, not because they may allow him to discuss his interests.

Jason despairs somewhere on the other side of town as he reads the text for his second persona- a living citizen Peter Todd- from the guy who he saw at the street market going gaga over pens. The guy was so cute, too.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Dating Bruce Wayne/ Batman (More)

The only person besides Alfred and later his kids that he lets in his personal space

He sometimes struggles setting boundaries with touch but you know his queues and he is more vocal about them when he’s comfortable with you

It’ll be along the lines of “I need more space” or maybe that he’s "not comfortable anymore"

He wants to be by you all the time though

Up in the front of the Justice league jet is where you two sit together

You are the two navigators because you work so well and he feels less stressed when you’re the one working by him

He wants all engulfing hugs please

Rests his head in the crook of your neck

He’s basically like a cat and just wants attention and sleep all the time

If you want, he’ll go shopping for galas with you

Has good opinions on fashion

"The train on that one is nice, but the color washes you out"

He likes to pick you up from work if he can

Opens and closes the car doors for you even as Batman

✨manners✨

Carries his mother’s ring around with him for the right moment

It’s either his mother’s ring or a custom made ring because not all people want to give their dead mother’s ring away

also not everyone wants their dead mother in law's ring

He’s not super jealous but he gets a bit protective if not touchy when you’re getting extra attention from someone

Only if it’s flirty attention though

Like when you come to the tower and Hal is flirting with you he’ll suddenly be right next to you, making the batglare

He likes to read in his library and go first edition book hunting

If you match the same level of excitement about things that he has, he’ll melt

He’ll eventually get comfortable enough that he’s alright asking questions to you

If he forgets or doesn’t want to research, he’ll just ask you

Probably not with others around though

He’s a serious guy but he’s a sucker for inside jokes

He thinks about them at the worst time too

“Mr. Wayne this PR emergency is no laughing matter-“ *tries to be serious but can’t*

He’ll pull you into a closet in the tower or an empty room just to reset or ya know 🙃

Lord knows that he can't cook much but the things that he can, he's really good at

I say he can grill just about anything but please don't make him bake bread

has a vast bourbon collection but mostly because he dad collected vintage bottles

doesn't really pop them open but for special events and late evenings

is a clean freak and he wants to scrub everything off after every patrol and every day

is the kind of guy to shower like 3 times a day and wouldn't mind if you joined him at least once

if you ask him to hold your drink even if you're not dating, he'll near kill anyone that seems untrustworthy near him with the drink

covers the drink with both hands and won't release his grip but to give you your drink back

walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the road

when you have a new outfit, he'll spin you around to see and admire you

likes the names of "darling, sweetheart, babe, and my darling"

pinky promises kind of guy

"I'll be done with this report in an hour and then we can go somewhere to eat." "Pinky promise?" "Pinky promise."

Because in Bruce's words, you can't break a pinky promise

[aurumacadicus]

Listen, Steve is grateful he gets to work at a Stark-funded hospital. He is. Not only is the prestige of working there even for a year going to carry him through his entire career, but if he stays for five years, the Maria Stark Foundation will pay off all of his student loans. Their clientele are people typically in poverty and he loves that he can help the less fortunate. It's all he ever wanted to do after watching his single mother scrimp and save as a nurse just to make sure they had a roof over their heads. He would never do anything to jeopardize his position or the reputation of the hospital.

"That custodian is going to be the reason you're fired," Natasha declares, and both Clint and Bucky spin from their nursing charts just in time to watch Steve almost fall over as he attempts to get one more glimpse of Tony's ass as he pushes his cart, whistling, toward the elevator. "Is this your way of getting out of the gala? Getting shit-canned the day before?"

"Are you going to tattle on me to Dr. Potts?" Steve asks her bluntly.

Natasha says nothing for several minutes, mulling the idea over in her head. Finally, though, she mutters, "I guess you're better than Hammer. He actually put his hands on Tony."

Steve doesn't know how to respond, because he'd only gotten his position after Dr. Hammer had groped Tony one too many times (apparently Tony had never reported it? It had actually been one of the nurses) and got fired for it. Again, he's grateful for the position, but he knows other doctors would shank him for the opportunity. He's just looking, but maybe he shouldn't look? Tony isn't a piece of meat. He's a respected member of the hospital staff.

Tony stops and bends over to pick up a piece of garbage on the floor, and even Natasha whimpers as his pants lovingly cup each of his cheeks.

Luckily, they're saved by one of the PR interns coming out of a hospital room and chirping, "Are you going to the gala tomorrow, Mr. Tony?"

"Peter how many times do I have to tell you," Tony begins, sighing, then shakes his head. "Yes, my mother is finally forcing me to show up for the gala."

Steve does a minute fist pump, and Bucky immediately drags him into a noogie that makes him squawk about his hair in probably the most unattractive manner possible.

--

"Gala" is probably too fancy a term for it. Unlike the Foundation galas, where the Stark family squeezes donations from the other wealthy elite for all they muster, this is more of a get-together between other hospitals to compare notes. Women are in cocktail dresses and the men are a healthy mix of suits and slacks-and-polos. The only people really decked out in formal wear are those with the foundation.

Steve is trying to be very casual as he keeps an eye out for Tony. He hasn't seen him yet, but he's hoping to ask Tony for at least one dance. Dr. Potts had said Tony liked to dance when he'd been talking with her and Natasha at the start of the gala. (She'd made really deliberate eye contact with him when she'd said so, too, so Steve figures she at least approves of him??? Even if she also kind of scares him.)

"Oh my God," Bruce whispers, wine dripping down his chin. He's gone ashen.

Steve and Thor turn to see what he's looking at, and Steve immediately understands. He feels as if he's just been simultaneously punched in the gut and head.

Because Mrs. Stark has finally arrived at her gala, dressed to the nines and yet somehow making everyone feel at ease in their own clothes. She's being escorted by a handsome man in a tuxedo.

The man looks a lot like Tony from the custodial department. But Mrs. Stark keeps loudly and proudly announcing that he's her son.

"I'm so fired," Steve whispers, voice cracking, as Bucky finally steps up beside him and claps him on the shoulder.

[secretidentie]

movies that should be superbat fics

Inspired by the first full superbat fic I've ever read The Proposal by @blackbatofel

How to loose a guy in 10 day: Clark needs to write a story to break into the main stream so people will pay attention to his more important work and after hearing Cat grant talk about her love life he decides to write about all the ways you can drive a man away in ten days. Bruce Wayne is trying to adopt Dick and sign a deal for WE and both those things require him to prove he can commit to something and be a family man so he bets he can make someone fall in love with him in 10 days

The other woman: Bruce Wayne is dating lex Luther for PR reasons. Clark is dating lex for investigation reasons. When Clark finds out online that lex has a boyfriend he's furious about the infidelity and immediately tells Bruce. Bruce, thinking Clark is a heartbroken mistress, suggests working together to get revenge. Clark, wanting to comfort Bruce through his breakup, agrees to said revenge. Shenanigans insues.

The hangover: batman, superman and green lantern are assigned to a mission in Vegas. They complete it easily and to celebrate lantern convince them to get drinks together even though the other two don't get along. When Bruce and Clark(who isn't supposed to be able to get drunk) wake up the next morning they don't know where they are, somethings wrong with Clark's powers, Hal's ring is in the bathroom sink, he's no where to be found and apparently the two of them got married last night. They have to figure out what happened and where Hal is before the next JL debrief otherwise they'll have to admit to Diana and the whole team that they fucked up a simple mission by getting shit faced on the job and Bruce would rather die than let that happen.

The holiday: when Bruce realizes he's either dumped, adopted or detested everyone in Gotham he's yearning for a change of scenery. He gets into contact with an old friend, lois lane, who's recently devorced but is still living with her ex husband. After finding out that she shares his desire for something different they decided to swap homes for a few weeks where they can both work remotely to experience life across the pond.

Titanic: a young Bruce engaged to Talia goes on a yacht cruise with the league of assassin's on the unsinkable ship designed by lex Luther by combining metals like lead with alien tech. Uncoincidentally Clark sneeks on the ship to investing in for kryptonite and criminal activities but ends up finding love as well.( Does this mean Clark has to die? Probably, but it's worth it for the plot. And Clark's sacrifice and worldview could be what inspired Bruce to quit the league and become batman)

You before me: After Bruce is horribly injured on the field he has to prematurely hand over the mantel of batman. Since his kids have done a good job at filling in for him, Bruce feels like he's lost his purpose. Alfred decides to hire Clark kent, an aspiring journalist from Smallville, as Bruce's caregiver so he can show Bruce a better outlook on life and hopefully convince him to reconsider ending his life(y'all know I had to even out the death score)

Bring it on: Bruce Wayne, owner of the daily planet, prides himself on the fact that his paper was the most awarded publication for the past 3 years. While gearing up for the 4th his new hire, lois lane reveals to him that his recently retired chef editor has been stealing stories from a smaller independent paper. That paper has been gaining traction this year and is being nominated for the same awards as them, including a pulitzer. After the owner of the rival paper, Clark, doesn't accept his apology or financial help, Bruce strives for justice and wants to make it right. During this he starts admiring Clark's work and starts falling from him. Clark,reluctant to let his guard down and be too trusting again, says he doesn't want pity from a billionaire pushing Bruce to do everything he can to turn his staff into award winners.... or atleast decent writers.(I clearly have no idea how journalism awards work)

[too-much-tma-stuff]

You Stay Away From Her (part 11)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

It was decided that the Justice League’s official channel would work on the governmental side of the GIW, laws, and PR, leaving it to the less official channels like the younger group, and Hood and Hyena to raid the bases. It wouldn’t be the best look but they couldn’t leave them any longer knowing there might be other sentient beings suffering in there. As long as the JL’s core members tacitly condemned their actions and the teams involved were sneaky it shouldn’t hinder the repeal efforts too much. Besides, constantly having to repair damaged infrastructure and replace dead staff would make keeping the GIW running very expensive.

Danny felt much better by the end of the talk. The JL was taking this much more seriously then he had feared, and they hadn’t once brought up that he might technically be a villain since his panic attack. He felt better but he was still exhausted, and he leaned against Jason’s shoulder, taking strength from his partner as the meeting wound down. Things seemed settled and he was looking forward to going home, hopefully getting some junk food and candy, and maybe some alcohol because he needed a Drink.

“Alright, with that settled there is one more thing I’d like to discuss before we adjourn the meeting,” Batman said, leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. 

Danny bit back a groan. What more could Bruce possibly want to talk about? Danny wanted to go hooome. 

“I am under the impression that Phantasm is in need of a guardian-”

“No I’m not!” Phantasm interrupted Batman, glaring at him fiercely. 

“She’s not, not really,” Hyena chuckled, shaking his head and resting a hand on her shoulder. “She’s been on her own since just a few months after her creation.”

“And it’s not like Vlad was a good guardian before that,” Ellie added. Danny nodded. 

“But needing one or not, having one might be good for you.” Danny told her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “After everything you’ve been through, having a good guardian to help take care of you while you work through it?” She hesitated, but then she nodded, Danny was grateful for her trust.

“I would be willing too-” Batman started before Hyena interrupted him. 

“No! Not you, and not Superman!” Hyena insisted, pointing an accusing finger at their end of the table. 

“It’s not up to you-” Superman started this time, sounding offended. 

“He’s my template! My only family, I trust him and I’m not going with anyone he doesn’t like,” Ellie growled at the two of them.

Reminded of how much he loved her, Danny gave her a one armed hug. He'd forgotten how ride or die she could be. “If they’d be willing, Martian Manhunter or Wonder Woman would be best. You both have powers, and experiences in common with her. But I don’t trust you with a clone,” He said, glaring at Superman. “I speak Kryptonian, I know what Kon-El means. You’re a piece of shit!” At least he had the decency to look chagrined. “And you!” Hyena pointed at Batman. “I know how you fuck up your kids. I’m dating one of your fucked up kids! You stay the hell away from her.”

Danny saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Nightwing had rested a hand on Jason’s arm and Robin and Superboy were behind them now, Tim supporting Jason and Danny, Kon supporting him and Ellie. It took Danny a moment to realize how heavy the silence had suddenly become and process what he had just said. He looked at Jason with regret and horror, seeing Jason shake his head subtly and grab Danny’s hand. At least he wasn’t mad.

“What do you mean you're dating one of Batman’s sons?” Wonder Woman asked, soft and dangerous. 

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Jason was either genuinely startled or doing a good job faking it. Then he scoffed and shook his head. “What am I talking about, of course he didn’t. If he didn’t tell Nightwing I was back he wasn’t going to tell any of you. 

“Yes, I was the second Robin. About six months after Joker killed me some sort of reality altering event resurrected me and I woke up in my coffin. I dug myself out, calling for my father,” Jason said, glaring across the table at Batman from behind his mask. “But because he buried me on the other side of Gotham instead of with our family I never made it home. The league of Assassins found me first. 

“It took me years to make it back, but because bty then I was already a killer, and my own person instead of an obedient soldier, he wants nothing to do with me,” Red Hood scoffed with a dismissive motion. 

“Don’t misconstrue the facts. You returned as a crime lord! You took over the drug trade in Gotham and had a body count in the dozens before you revealed to me who you were. Which you did by demanding I let you kill the Joker,” Batman said, and yikes this meeting was now a family fight. 

“Ya? And how did you respond to that B? Did you respond well OR! Did you slit your own sons throat to save a fucked up clown?” Nightwing demanded of their father. B just barely fidgeted under their stare. 

“Besides I’m making Crime Alley a better place in a way you never even tried to. Even if you love Gotham more than any of us you’d basically given up on Crime Alley because of how deep the roots of organized crime go there, and don't you try to claim otherwise! But I’m an Ally kid, was before you pulled me out of there, will be till I die. So I’m making it safer in the way that works for them! Setting up safe injection sites and rehabs, making it against the rules to sell to, or use kids, setting up safe houses for the working girls. I’m making it a safer place for the people who have always lived there. Not trying to make it the sort of place people will set up fancy coffee shops.”

“It’s against the law. You are not above the law,” Batman hissed at him.

Jason clearly telegraphed rolling his eyes at B. “Then stop being a vigilante, because what you’re doing is against the law too.”

“We’ve gotten off topic again,” Martian Manhunter butted in again, giving Batman a warning look. “I will take on the role of mentoring Phantasm. It’s been a while since I took a young hero under my wing. It will be refreshing to do it again.”

“Thank you,” Hyena said genuinely, smiling at Martian Manhunter from behind his mask.

“Ya I bet you like that,” Ellie said, lightening the mood with her teasing tone. “MM has been your favourite hero since you were a kid, and now you have an excuse to talk to him more.”

Hyena blushed and hissed at her only for her to laugh in his face. If they weren’t in public he would have tackled her and started play-fighting. As it was he resigned himself to letting her get away with embarrassing him for now. 

Manhunter chuckled gently and give Danny a very small smile. “I’m flattered to have been your favourite hero. It is a rarer honour for me then some of the others.”

“Ya…” Danny breathed, a little starstruck before he shook himself out of it and stood up. “Well, if that’s all I think Hood and I are ready to go home,” He said, giving Jason a slightly pleading look. He nodded and stood up as well, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist. 

“That was a good meeting. Remember, if you need help with anything from the Realms, call us. Or any apocalyptic threats I guess, call us,” He reminded before ushering Danny out. The Teen Titans and the present members of the Bat-family sort of formed ranks around Jason, Danny, and Ellie and escorted them out of the room.

The adults were quiet as they left, but as soon as the door closed behind them Danny heard a cacophony of voices, and had to duck his head to hide a grin. It seemed like what Jason had said had managed to start a fight, good, B deserved it! 

Danny snuggled against Jason’s side as Tim put in coordinates and verification in the Zeta-tube to get Jason and Danny back to the Bat Cave. Before they left Danny turned and hugged Ellie tightly again. “Go back with the Teen Titans okay? And come visit me.”

“You have to come visit me too!” Ellie insisted, his voice muffled as she pressed her face into Danny’s chest. 

Danny glanced a little nervously at the assembled members of Teen Titans, “Starlight I’m not sure that they’d want me to-”

“No, it’s alright. Unless anyone objects?” Tim asked, glancing over at his team, Cassie shrugged, Bart gave him a thumbs up and a grin, and Kon nodded. “You invited me into your home, you’re welcome in mine. Especially since it’ll be hers now too. Come whenever you want,” Tim promised. “Just give us a heads up first.”

“Thank you. In that case, yes I will visit you. I promise,” He swore to her. She sniffled and nodded, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes. 

“Good, I’ll hold you to it.” She grumbled at him.

Danny bit back a laugh and nodded before finally letting Nightwing and Hood guide him into the portal. It was less scary the second time at least, even though Danny was completely exhausted. 

“I’m going to take him home,” Jason told Dick as Danny leaned more heavily against him. Now that they were alone he was done holding it together.

“Of course. Is there anything I can do?” Dick asked worriedly. Danny closed his eyes tightly and resisted the urge to cover his ears too.

“No. You can order takeout to our place if you want to, but right now he just needs space. We both do,” Jason told Dick before gently pushing Danny over to his bike and on. Danny clung to Jason, hiding against his back as he drove them home, weaving in and out of traffic and pulled up to the curb, practically carrying Danny back inside. 

“I’m so sorry,” Danny muttered, his arms wrapped tightly around Jason’s shoulders, his face pressed against Jason’s chest. “I shouldn’t have brought up B adopting you, I shouldn’t have surprised you with the powerpoint, I’m sorry I had a panic attack there. I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Shhh, shh shh, it’s okay Danny, it’s okay Love. It was actually kind of fun getting to throw B under the bus like that. It’s not your fault for having a panic attack either. But yes, you should have warned me about the power-point. What do you want to do about it?” Jason asked softly, not because he was actually upset, but because the quickest way to snap Danny out of a self hating spiral like this was to ‘punish him for it’, and then talk about it after.

“Whatever you want, whatever will make it right,” Danny mumbled again, he sounded distracted and vague. Jason knew that tone of voice, Danny was having another panic attack, just a dissociative one this time. 

“Danny, none of that! You have to tell me,” Jason told him firmly. 

“Take me to bed, be rough with me,” Danny mumbled.

“Only if you use the safe word,” Jason told Danny, even though he was already carrying Danny towards the bedroom.

“I will if I need to,” Danny promised, and Jason sighed. He knew that meant Danny wouldn’t use it, but all he could do was insist Danny could and should. Trying to force Danny to would be counterproductive. 

---------

The meeting had taken hours for Batman to get back under control as the rest of the Justice league went back and forth between berating him for the way he’d treated Jason and offering him parenting advice. He didn’t want any of it! They hadn’t read Jason’s file, they didn’t know just how high of a body count he had now, just how brutal he could be now. He didn’t want any of their advice, or any of their ridicule, it was ridiculous!

Constantine had tried to sneak out but Batman pinned him to his seat with a look, muttering to him that he needed to stay, Bruce wanted to talk to him alone after the meeting. Finally he managed to regain control enough to end the meeting, ‘at least till tempers had cooled and they could revisit this problem.’ He was planning to avoid that follow up meeting as long as humanly possible.

He convinced everyone else to leave and grabbed Constantine by the scruff when he tried to leave again too. Bruce had seen the look of realization on Constantine’s face while he was watching Danny before he could wipe it away. He had controlled it quickly, but not so quickly that Batman hadn’t noticed it.

“You know what he is now don’t you?” Batman growled at Constantine once they were alone. 

“What’re you talkin about?” Constantine deflected. 

Batman was not impressed.

“Hyena. What is he?” Batman demanded, glaring at the magician. 

Constantine hesitated, glancing around them and biting his lip, as if he was afraid Hyena might pop out from the shadows again. “I think so, but it’s weird and… Well, he’s right that if he had told me I wouldn’t have believed him.”

“Fine. Tell me,” Batman demanded again, he was getting impatient. 

“I think he’s a-” And then he made a series of sounds that made no sense to Batman. “It’s a bit clumsy to translate into English. Halfa, or ‘the perfect balance’, something like that. They’re… well they’re a fucking myth is what they are! The legend is that they were an immortal race of beings who were completely alive, and completely dead. Perfectly balanced between the two, incredibly powerful and almost indestructible. There were only ever a couple hundred because they had to be made not born and the way they’re made is very rare. But they were the keepers of the balance, ambassadors between worlds. 

“Everyone respected them. But that was before the king went mad, and there was this prophecy was discovered, that the True King of the Infinite Realms would be a halfa or somethin. He killed the entire race, complete genocide and no one’s heard anything from a halfa in… I genuinely don’t know, thousands of years probably,” Constantine shrugged again. “I’d heard about them. Ancient beings sometimes lament their loss, that things were better when they were around to keep the balance, but I thought it was just Boomer talk! Back in my day Bullshit! I didn’t think they were TRUE!” Constantine sounded almost hysterical. 

“If they’re keepers of the balance what’s one doing in Crime Alley serving Red Hood?” Batman said skeptically.

“Fuck if I know mate!” Constantine said. “He said he was fully human not that long ago so I’m guessing he’s a new halfa. Which… I guess it makes sense, just because all the previous were gone, the way they’re made can technically be naturally occurring. But he probably won’t have any idea about that cultural heritage, there’s no one left to teach him. 

“With what the GIW did, and he mentioned his haunt being taken, and no one to fall back on, he was a lost spirit. He probably would have latched on to anyone who gave him kindness and purpose,” Constantine explained to Batman with exaggerated patience. “It seems to have worked out pretty well for them, if not for you.

“And Bats, I know you’re not thrilled about this, but think about it. What if Hyena had latched on to someone else? Even a normal person given access to the sort of power Hyena offers, what would most people do with it? Or what if he had latched onto someone like Penguin, anyone without a good heart deep down. It could have gone a hell of a lot worse! And as it is, as long as you don’t piss them off too badly we have a powerful new alley and a counter to a type of threat the League wasn’t well set up to deal with.

“Maybe try untwisting those panties of yours about him dating your son,” Constantine accused, rolling his eyes. This time when he stormed out Batman didn’t stop him. He wasn’t sure how helpful the information Constantine had given him was, but he knew he’d gotten everything he was going to get out of the magician. 

He had his own research to do. 

[aceofshitposts]

did a little writing challenge with @yasmindifference! we randomly generated a prompt and both wrote for about an hour for it :3c prompt was: Have one character brushing the hair away from the face of the other. and here's mine! make sure to also check out yas' fic <3 -

Generally, Tim stays out of the limelight. Disastrous PR debacles was more Bruce’s thing, a man known for swinging between partners and parties like a squirrel caught in a hurricane.

Not that Tim didn’t make his appearances but each was carefully crafted to affect a certain image. Timothy Drake-Wayne was known to be kind but aloof, just funny enough to get people to let down their guard. Charming and put together.

Scandals were not in Tim’s public itinerary. He had enough work to deal with in his day and night job both.

The first bouquet of flowers to show up goes relatively unmentioned. There are a few looks from others in the office but it’s nothing particularly alarming. Flowers have shown up before, from Bernard once or twice and a few separate attempts at wooing him from others. Tim takes the card from the vase, no name left and a simple note that says have a nice day, and regifts the flowers to the lobby reception.

It’s when Tim is surrounded by several bouquets, one from each day of the week, that he starts to get annoyed. Someone has to be playing a joke on him or else he’s got a very persistent stalker– which wouldn't be the first time and leads Tim to wondering if something new has crawled up Ra’s’ ass recently.

He starts tracking the orders. There’s three bouquets from a florist down in the bowery, one from the diamond district and another from a larger florist by Gotham General. Each order was paid for with cash, naturally.

Calling the shops proves fruitless with the various shopkeepers giggling about customer confidentiality. Tim is able to identify some of the flowers, however, discovering that the all white and green bouquet from Wednesday contained coriander, white gardenia, white camella and white clover.

Then the press catches wind of Tim’s anonymous flower gifts. It’s not quite headline worthy, thankfully, but the gossip mill is in full swing with questions about who this mystery admirer could be.

Which also means the other bats catch wind of it.

“Shut up,” Tim mutters dejectedly at Dick’s joyous cackling. “This could be a serious problem.”

Nobody is taking Tim’s concerns seriously. It doesn’t help that Tim has ruled out this being some ploy from Ra’s, if only because in response to this ridiculous situation Ra’s had sent a bouquet. Directly to Tim’s living room with a not so anonymous card.

“What are you laughing about now? Please tell me B fell off a fire escape or something.”

Great, just what Tim needed; to have Jason come in and start laughing at his public persona’s disaster of a love life also. Dick wastes no time in launching into the whole thing, embellishing the story more than Tim would like honestly, while Jason leans against the Bat-Computer console.

Tim makes the mistake of making eye contact with Jason, earning himself a wide grin from the older robin.

It takes Tim a moment to remember Dick is actively making fun of him. That’s why Jason is smiling at him. It’s a funny story, Tim might even be amused if he wasn’t at the centre of it.

“I’m going on patrol,” he mutters to no-one in particular.

Tim is expecting it when he exits the office elevator on Monday. As he walked through the building there had been several not so subtle looks and not so quiet whispers that alluded to his ordeal not being over.

Despite this, he was not quite prepared for what was waiting for him outside his office.

He’d recognize the worn leather jacket and broad shoulders anywhere.

The office is suspiciously quiet as Tim walks through, eyes following him like the hungry vultures they were. Tim wonders the ethics of hoping for an Arkham breakout just to keep this off the cover of the Gotham Gazette.

Jason grins at him when Tim comes to stand in front of him, not unlike the other night in the cave.

“A little birdy said you were lookin’ for me,” Jason mock whispers, leaning towards Tim.

“How did you get in the building?” Tim asks cooly, unlocking the door to his private office. If this was a joke Tim was going to personally bug all of Jason and Dick’s equipment for the foreseeable future.

“Oh, y’know, my boyish charm.” Jason shrugs and Tim notices the bouquet of bright red roses held in Jason’s hand.

Tim might not be an expert on flower meanings.

But that one is pretty clear.

Jason reaches out with his free hand to brush some hair out of Tim’s face.Someone in the office shrieks, reminding Tim that they were not only currently in public but also in his workplace and Jason looks like he’s about to laugh even though his face is also rapidly turning red. Tim decides he’ll deal with the PR crisis later and shoves Jason into his office and shuts the door and blinds behind him.

[sitepathos]

Wow, I loved chapter 11! Would be funny if batfam discovered a cure for cancer trying to figure out how to deal with the mold, was just a thought that stuck in my head when I read the description 'benign tumor'. Would also be a good way for batfam to start dealing with the PR nightmare this is turning into. Has Bruce been trying to fuck over Lex? Also was wondering if maybe Gould made any bonds in the four years back home? Is there any jealousy rising in batfam from a brotherly or fatherly bond they discover, or has he mostly been keeping to himself? Either way, I'm excited to see what's coming up with this next confrontation, hope the inspiration narwhal visits you!

Yeah, I can see them using their discoveries to change public opinion about them.

Now, they know the Megamycete is similar to a benign cancer that eradicates native cells and replaces them with unstable mold versions, but since they only have the one sample of your blood (and it’s kinda lost all viability due to the batter of tests its been subjected to), they’re still far from discovering any usable weapon to attack the Megamycete at the cellular level.

While their tests have yielded nothing to combat the mold, their failures have led to the discovery of a treatment that’s highly effective against actual cancers, tumors, and viral infections. Bruce had the data forwarded to Wayne Pharmaceuticals to begin development of new medicines based off their work, leading to several new drugs being developed that promise to either treat several incurable diseases and illnesses or eliminate them altogether.

It definitely makes people see Bruce Wayne more favorable, but not enough to reverse all the bad publicity done to his company. He’s also made several attempts to get back at Lex for his actions at the gala, both as CEO of Wayne Enterprises by showing him up in business and as Batman by exposing his less-than-legal activities.

He’s actually very grateful to you (despite the fact you’re infected by some sentient mushroom) since it’s helped complete many projects the pharmaceutical division has been working on for years, which will help countless people in the long run.

But make no mistake, he fully intends to find a way to purge the Megamycete from your body. He says it’s because it’s dangerous and that it’s making you act out, but it’s because it gives you the power to oppose him and fight back when he tries to bring you back to Gotham. Let’s be honest, Bruce Wayne is a massive control freak and is used to being the one in total control of every situation and the smartest person in the room and he can’t stand it when he doesn’t have something under control.

Thanks to the Megamycete, you’re not only stronger than him, but smarter, too.

This is a huge no-no and he’ll stop at nothing to correct the situation, under the guise of “helping” you and “bring you back home.”

As for the second part of your ask, I’ve had several people ask about the reader dating/marrying people and making friends; I’ve even made a post about Eveline from Resident Evil 7 being your adoptive daughter, but I don’t have any plans on making a canon family and friends for the reader in the series.

Believe me, you want a family and friends. You’d love to find a man who will give you the love you were denied for so long and maybe even adopt a child (although several people asking about kids has made me think you’d be capable of carrying biological children since you can alter your body due to the Megamycete), but after all that you endured at Wayne Manor, you think you have too much emotional baggage to properly care for a family (not to mention the whole Megamycete situation) and you’re just subject your potential family and friends to the same treatment you were given for most of your life.

Right now, you’re working on yourself. You moved back to Goodsprings immediately after graduating and turned your childhood home into a home you’re really proud of and now with the ulcers of Salvage Rights, you’re seeing a small fortune building before your eyes (of course, you still have most of the money you got from Lex for seeking WE secrets).

Of course, Bruce and his children had to show up out of nowhere and reset all the progress you made in the last four years and making people stare at you every time you walk into a room and whisper about you when they think you can’t hear them.

So, any plans you had on making a family and finding friends are on hold for right now. You just have to take care for your little bat problem.

But, let’s say you did have a family and friends. That not long after you moved to Goodsprings, you made a few friends either in town or in the surrounding area, which eventually lead to you finding a boyfriend and after two years of dating, you got married (Alfred attended, he wouldn’t miss it for the world).

Now, he didn’t tell them about the wedding at the time, but after the four year mark of you leaving Gotham, he reminded them that you exist and dropped the bombshell that you’re married.

This leads to every one of them going berserk.

You’re married?! And they weren’t invited to the wedding?!

They immediately dislike your husband, Bruce especially since he has the insane belief that as your father, any man should ask for his blessing to date/marry you (of course he’d turn down any request before it even leaves the man’s mouth).

“There’s no man in this world that’s good enough for you, Y/N. Besides, you only need me and your brothers.”

Damian is in the same boat as he believes very few are worthy enough of joining the Wayne legacy.

“Our bloodline is a sacred one, brother, and we must be selective of who is a part of it. If you insist on finding a mate, I’m sure Father would be capable of finding one for you. But you needn’t worry over that, I’m more than capable of continuing the family in his stead.”

Dick would lose his shit if he hears that you have a husband.

“He just proposes to you? Without asking to meet your family? That’s very suspicious, baby bird! He clearly wants to take you away from us!”

Jason would be silent during the entire ordeal, but he’d stand there, glaring at you poor husband and showing off the gun he has on his hip, filled with real bullets.

Tim’s immediately researching the shit out of this guy, going back to his birth and will use anything and everything he finds to convince you that he’s unfit for you and you should divorce him.

“He got a speeding ticket when he was 16, Y/N! He clearly lives on the edge and doesn’t care about respecting the law! …Why are you staring at me like that for?”

Steph is actually kinda proud of you for causing this kind of chaos in the family. She’s always pulling stunts that cause Bruce’s hair to turn grey and loves messing with everyone, but what you’ve done is nothing short of astounding in her eyes. Of course, she’s just as opposed to the marriage as the others and wants you to divorce your husband and move back home at once.

“Y/N, if you wanted to drive Bruce into an early grave, you could’ve just done what I did and wreck the Batmobile. Hey, we can do that when we get back home!”

Cass actually understands the desire to find love and create a family; thanks to Bruce, she knows what a family is (a lesson you were never taught) and wishes she could find someone to spend her life with. But thanks to her upbringing and her vigilante lifestyle, she knows that’s a pipe dream. Besides, Bruce and her siblings are more than enough.

However, that doesn’t mean she supports the marriage; in fact, she opposes it and believes you must divorce your husband and come home right away. People can’t be trusted and the world is too dangerous. You need to come home where they can protect you.

And god help you if you say your new friends are more like your siblings than them.

As expected, Damian doesn’t take the news well and accuses them of trying to take his place as your true brother (this delusional bastard really believes that after everything, the two of you can really be brothers).

But I think Dick would take the news worse than him; he takes his role as the elder brother of the Wayne children seriously and he doesn’t like the thought of you seeing someone other than him as your big brother. He’d probably cry and beg you to take it back, say you were just lying to hurt him, anything! Just say you don’t see anyone as a big brother!

Lastly, if you have any children, be it through adoption or biological, they immediately stake a claim on them and try to bring them into the family.

That just leaves you, fighting these delusional freaks tooth and nail to keep your friends and family safe. If your husband is a meta, he’ll try to join in, but you insist on dealing with them yourself. You know they’ll use any dirty trick they can find against your husband and you’d rather not put him in any more danger than you have already.

Plus, if anyone has the right to kill them, it’s you. After all they put you through, you’re determined to be the one that finally puts an end to the Bats.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Let Us Teach You - Extra Chapter 2/2

Click Here For Story Masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Description:

"Okay daddy, I trust you" I say. "What will you show me?"

"We'll start with something small, is that okay doll?" I nod to him, wanting him to know I said yes. Steve smiles at me, taking a deep breath, he swallows hard before speaking again.

"Lie back on the bed doll"

(Bucky and Steve have a daughter, and they teach her about sex)

Rating: Explicit (This chapter comes with gay sex)

Words: 3,204

P.s... This fic is not for everyone, it has incest. That is not a thing everyone likes reading, so if you don't like reading stuff like that, this isn't the fic for you. I'm no condoning any of this, this isn't real life, this is fanfiction :)

"You wanna watch us doll?" Bucky asks. I nod, feeling a little blush creep over my face. They both cuddled into my, Steve my front and Bucky behind me. I felt safe and content. 

"Oh please daddy! I'm so curious" I say looking hopeful at Steve. I rest my hands on his chest as his fingers tighten on my hips, Bucky's hand moved gently along the skin of my back. Both of them chuckled, Steve moved to nuzzle my neck, Bucky copied his action, his lips touching the back of my neck. 

"Yeah doll, we'll let you watch us next time" Steve whispers, his lips lazily kissing me. 

"Oh thank you daddy!" I squeal, cuddling into him. 

"You're so cute doll" Bucky whispered in my ear. 

 -------------------------------

The next day I sat close to Bucky on the couch, Steve was at the Avengers Compound, something about a PR meeting, I snuggled closer to Bucky, sighing happily as he held me close to him. 

Bucky idly rubbed my shoulder with his metal hand, I smirk slightly as I watch him, completely engrossed in the movie. I reached up slightly and pressed my lips to his neck. I listened as his breath hitched, I kissed along up his neck and jaw until my lips met his. 

Bucky moaned softly against my lips, his hands moved to my hips pulling me so I sat on his lap, straddling him. I moved my body close to him, feeling his hardness underneath me, I wore a dress so the only thing stopping me from feeling him was his clothes and my panties. Both his hands rested on my thighs stroking the skin under my dress. 

"Mmm daddy" I mumbled against his lips, I moved my hips against his lap, rubbing myself over his clothed cock. I felt his breath pick up, another soft moan left his lips as he held my hips, guiding my against him. I moved my lips against his again, kissing him fully, until he phone rang. 

I groaned softly as he pulled away from me, I moved my lips down to his neck, kissing him softly as he answers the phone, I faintly hear Steve's voice on the other end. Bucky then puts the phone on speaker. 

"Bucks...Tony, Thor, Clint, Nat and Bruce are coming back with me, gonna have dinner a our place" Steve says to Bucky, I kiss lower on his neck, sucking into his skin slightly. 

"Uh-huh...y-yeah...that's fine" Bucky answers, his voice strained as I kiss his neck and rut my hips against him. 

"We're about to leave the compound, so make sure you're not ravishing our girl when we walk in?" Steve says, I move my hips harder against Bucky, his cock straining through his jeans. Bucky's breath hitched, his was biting his bottom lip hard. 

"Yeah...I'll-I'll m-make sure of it" Bucky's words were more of a gasp as he spoke and I continued to move my body over his over. I nipped lightly at his jaw as I held onto his neck, my hips move fast against him. 

"She's doing something to you now, isn't she?" I heard Steve ask, chuckling. Bucky lets out a low deep moan, I could tell he was trying to focus. 

"Y-yeah..." He gasps, his metal hand gripping my hip hard trying to keep me in place. 

"Be quick, we'll be home in about twenty minutes" Steve voice spoke, I could hear the want in his tone, he wanted to be with me and Bucky, wanted to join in. Bucky tried to steady his breathing. 

"O-okay twenty m-minutes..." Bucky groaned, he hung up and put the phone down, he took my chin in his hand and pulled me up to look at him, his eyes were dark and full of desire for me. Both hands were on my hips, moving me against him. Twenty minutes, that's all we had. Plenty of time, right?

"Wanna make you feel good daddy" I whisper against his neck. Bucky lets out a low growl. 

"Yeah? And how do you wanna make me feel good doll?"

"I don't know...take me? On this couch, now?" I begged, smiling up at him. I watched as his expression darkened, he pulled my body flush against his. 

"Yeah doll? You wanna do it right here on the couch?" He asked "Daddy would be so mad" 

I giggled softly knowing Steve would kill us "Yes daddy"

Bucky smirked at my answer, he stroked my cheek slightly. 

"Good girl" He whispered, his hands were still on my hips holding me on his lap. We had time, twenty minutes was plenty. Bucky shuffled under me slightly, he pulled his hard cock out from his jeans. I stood up giving him more space whilst I pulled my panties down, leaving my dress on. 

"We don't have much time lovely girl" He murmured "Think you can take me?"

I nodded eagerly and sat back on his lap, I sunk down on him, hissing at the pain of being stretched. Bucky groaned loudly, his hands were on my hips holding me tight guiding me down. 

"So...so big daddy" I whined, his fingers moved down to my clit, rubbing me, helping me feel good. His fingers moved quickly over my clit until I came hard over his fingers, clenching down on his thick cock. Bucky fucked up into me, fucking me hard, the stretch causing me to groan loudly. 

"Good girl...my good girl, fuck, I love you" He whined loudly as his cocked fucked into me. 

"I love you daddy, love you" I whined, he held my hips moving me up and down his length. 

"Fuck doll" Bucky groaned "Gonna fill you up" He moaned loudly as he fucked me harder, filling me up, coming hard into me. Both of us were breathing heavily, our foreheads rested against one another. We stayed still for a moment, breathing heavily. 

"So good daddy" I whispered. Bucky moved his hand up to cup my cheek, his breathing was hard, he looked into my eyes. 

"You're the best doll, the perfect girl" He smiled softly at me, and then we heard the front door start to open. 

"Shit" I whispered, I climbed off Bucky quickly feeling his seed drip down my leg, he pulled his jeans up and pulled me to sit next to him, we sat and tried looking completely normal as everyone started to filter into the room. 

"Hi dad!" I grin at Steve when I see him, he eyed the two of us and chuckled slightly, knowing exactly what we had done. 

"Darling, come help me make dinner, Bucky can entertain in here" Steve grinned knowingly at me. "Bucky, get the wine yeah?"

"Yeah I'll get the wine" Bucky says gruffly. I say a quick hello to the group of Avengers and I then follow Steve into the kitchen, once the door was shut, he grabbed me by my hips, lifting me up onto the kitchen counter, he crouched and spread my legs. 

There was a small smirk on his lips as he looked at my pussy, still covered in Bucky's cum. 

"Did you have fun?" 

"Yes daddy" I grin, Steve then moved forward, his lips attaching to my wet hole, he licked my hole up to my clit, licking up the mess Bucky had made. I moaned softly as Steve licked and sucked at my clit. He licked and sucked until I was a moaning mess coming hard for him. 

Once done he pressed a small kiss to my lips and then washed up before starting dinner. I hopped off the kitchen counter feeling a little lightheaded. 

"How can I help daddy?"

Steve smirked, and handed me a knife. "Cut those potatoes"

I did so, and soon got bored, so I left the kitchen and sat back with Bucky. 

Thor, Clint, Tony, Nat and Bruce were all enjoying a glass of wine, laughing amongst themselves when I walked in. I sat close to Bucky, snuggling into him slightly. He immediately wrapped an arm around me. 

"Daddy cleaned me up" I whispered to him when the others weren't paying attention. Bucky smirked as he looked down to me, he leant down slightly to whisper in my ear. 

"Yeah, you liked it?"

"I loved it" I answered back. Soon Steve came into announced diner was all done, we all made out way into the dining room and sat around the bigger table we never used. Steve served up the food and that's when the awkward conversations started. 

"Young one!" Thor bellowed "Have you a boyfriend yet?" 

I saw Bucky glance at Thor, an annoyed look in his eyes. Probably warning Thor to stop, but the god paid no attention. 

"No.." I answered quietly. Thor looked at me a little surprised. 

"And why not?" Thor asked, the others had stopped talking and were all looking at me now. I felt a hand on my thigh under the table, Bucky's, I felt a little calmer for it. 

"Because I'm not worried about boys yet" I answer smiling. Bucky gave my thigh a gentle squeeze, letting me know he was there, and it was okay. Thor nodded, still looking surprised, but there was a glimmer of realisation in his eyes. 

"Is that so?" He asks, still trying to get more information out of me. I nodded and carried on eating, really not wanting to talk about it anymore. Thor shrugged, and went back to his food. There was a small moment of silence before Tony spoke up next. 

"What about parties? Meet any boys at parties?" He asked. 

"Uhh yeah, I go to your parties, Uncle Tony" I answer. 

"What about other parties?" He adds. 

"No, I'd only ever go to your parties" I answer sweetly. Tony smiled at my response. 

"That's my girl" He chuckled, grinning at me. Thankfully, Steve took over the conversations, I sighed happily and turned to Bucky and chatted quietly with him. Bucky stayed quiet with me, happy to not get involved in the others conversations. He kept the one hand on my thigh, under the table, gently caressing my skin with his thumb. 

Once dinner was over and everyone had left, I flopped onto the bed and sighed loudly. Bucky and Steve followed me into the room and flopped either side of me. 

"I wanna watch you both tonight" I say quietly. Steve looked at me, his expression a little shocked at my words, Bucky smirked at me. I watched as they both looked at each other. 

"Please?" I ask.

They were still looking at one another, a silent conversation between their eyes. 

"Yeah baby, you can watch us tonight" Steve finally spoke. 

"Okay, where do I sit?" I ask excitement coursing through my veins. I could see they were thinking for a moment. 

"Sit there doll" Bucky spoke first, pointing at the armchair in the corner of the room. I did as told and wandered off to the chair, sitting comfortably. My eyes were on them, watching them move closer to one another, watching them finally touch lips. 

They continued to kiss and touch each other, Steve's hands ran over Bucky's chest, whilst Bucky's hands moved over Steve's body as their mouths moved against one anothers. 

Bucky's hands suddenly moved to Steve's shirt, he slowly started to unbutton it, he ducked his head away from Steve's lips and kissed his chest as the shirt came off. 

I carried on watching, watching as Bucky and Steve undressed one another. When they were naked they laid on the bed, pressed up against one another. Bucky's lips were on Steve's jaw, kissing and biting his skin, a lot harsher than he ever touched me. Steve had his head tipped back, groaning softly. Bucky's hands were in Steve's hair, pulling it gently. 

I moved off the chair, quietly onto the bed so I was sitting next to them,, they hadn't even noticed me. I watched as Bucky bit down on Steve's neck. 

"How does it work for men?" I asked quietly. 

Bucky and Steve stopped and looked at me. 

"What do you mean doll?" Steve asked, an amused look over his face. 

"Well.." I start thinking about how to word it "Who puts it in who?"

I watch as their expressions widen slightly, probably at my words, Steve chuckled lightly and answered me. 

"It depends doll" 

"On?" I ask cocking my head. 

"Well it depends on personal preference doll" Steve said, Bucky looked as if he were about to burst into laughter. 

"And what is your preference?" I ask quietly, Bucky had moved to kiss Steve's neck as we spoke. 

"Well daddies quite flexible when it comes to me..." Steve explained to me. Bucky bit down softly on Steve's neck causing him to groan. 

"Okay...so what happens today?"

"Usually it depends on who's up for what" Steve answered, his eyes fluttering shut due to Bucky's lips on his neck. 

"And what are you up for?" I ask innocently. 

"Do you want the blunt answer or the polite one?" Steve asks, Bucky's hand was slowly moving down his sides. 

"Blunt please, daddy" I answer. Steve chuckled breathlessly. 

"When it's just me and daddy" Steve started talking again, moaning softly as Bucky's lips moved down to his chest. "He's usually inside of me"

"Okay, I can't wait to watch" I grin. 

"You sure doll?" Bucky mumbles against Steve's chest. 

"One hundred percent daddy!" 

They started kissing again, Steve's hands moved to Bucky's jaw holding him close as they kiss. Steve groaned loudly as Bucky took both their hard cocks in his metal hand, he moved his hand tightly around them. 

As I watched I moved my hands over my body how they usually did, I pulled my dress up, showing my naked body under. I moved my fingers over my nipples replicating how their fingers touch me, I moaned softly as I tweaked my pert nipples. 

Bucky was straddling Steve's hips now, they continued to kiss whilst they had the other's cock in their hands. 

"You both look so pretty" I whisper. They stopped kissing for a moment and looked to me. 

"Do you like what you see doll?" Bucky asked. 

"A lot daddy.. Can I touch myself?" I ask quietly "The way you usually touch me?" 

Bucky chuckled softly "Yes, touch yourself doll" He then turned away and pulled something out from the bedside draw, a bottle of lube. I watched intently as Bucky used his fingers in Steve, he used a lot of lube, opening him up. 

"My daddies are so pretty" I whisper watching them, my fingers traced down my body, touching the soft skin of my stomach and lower to my wet center. Steve was groaning loudly at Bucky's movements. 

"Thank you baby" Steve laughed softly. 

"Keep going? Please?" I squeak slightly, I was enjoying watching them more that I thought I had. Bucky chuckled at my words, I watched as he added another finger to Steve's hole. 

"Doll, you're being impatient" Bucky said, his voice husky. 

"A little bit" I giggled softly, my fingers were slipping through my wet folds now. 

"You want us to put a good show on for you?" Bucky asked. 

"That is exactly what I want, daddy" I grin, my eyes on them. They looked perfect, they started kissing again, Steve was grinding up into Bucky's fingers. Bucky would stop kissing Steve and look over at me every so often and finally when he thought Steve was open enough he covered his hard cock with lube and pushed himself into Steve. 

I watch them moan loudly in sync, they moved together Bucky would thrust forward and Steve would jolt into him. Steve's hands came up to hold Bucky's jaw, their lips moved together. Both of them in a world of their own passion. I silently watched them, enjoying my view. 

Bucky groaned deeply as he continued to thrust harder into Steve, it was obviously they hadn't done this for a while, too busy touching me... Bucky's hands were tight on Steve's hips as he fucked into him hard. I moved my body, forgetting that I was even touching myself, marveling at their beauty. I pressed myself against Steve. 

"Are you gonna cum inside daddy?" I asked, smiling sweetly up at Bucky. 

Bucky, who was still moving, looked down at me, a smile on his lips. 

"Yeah doll, I am" He answered, I smiled and moved my hand to grip Steve's hard length, he moaned loudly as I did. 

"Love my daddies" I whisper, my lips touching Steve's shoulder. Both of them groaned at my words. I could tell I was distracting them slightly, I enjoyed the feeling. Bucky groaned loudly finishing deep inside Steve, he rutted harder into him, whilst my hand tightened around Steve's cock as he came hard covering his own chest and my hand. 

"Wow" I whispered. 

Bucky was panting, out of breath, his hands no longer gripping Steve's hips as tight. Steve was the same, breathing as heavy as he tried to regain his composure. I watched them closely as they held on to one another, I felt a pang of jealousy run through me. They took a few more moments before they finally looked at me, Bucky smiled and moved one of his hands to gently touch my face. 

"Hi" I whispered. 

Bucky pulled me closer, still inside of Steve and pulled me to his lips, he kissed me softly. His tongue ran over my bottom lip. 

"Loved watching you" I mumbled against his lips. Bucky smiled and mumbled in return. 

"Glad you liked the show"

"I really loved it...you feeling okay daddy?" I asked Steve, he looked like he was on cloud nine, he whimpered slightly every time Bucky moved, still deep within him. Steve smiled all goofy at me. 

"I'm okay baby"

"How about I run you a nice hot bath?" I ask smiling sweetly, wanting to offer what they usually offered me after our sessions. 

"That would be great baby"

I pressed a short kiss to his cheek and left the bed, I made the bath for him and lit some candles so Steve would feel extra relaxed. Once done, and Steve got into the water I ventured back to the bedroom and climbed into the bed with Bucky, snuggling up to him. 

"Love you" I mumbled as I rubbed my nose against hi chest. 

"I love you too doll" Bucky answered me, his big strong arms pulling me in close. 

Soon Steve joined us in bed, he pulled me a little closer to him. 

"Promise me, we'll never stop doing stuff like that?" I asked quietly. I watched as they both looked at one another and then back to me. 

"Doll, we promise..We love this too much to ever stop" Bucky answered, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead. 

"That's what I wanted to hear" I answered, giggling slightly, as I started feeling sleepy. Steve pulled me closer to him, his arms reaching over to Bucky too pulling him in close. 

"Goodnight daddies, love you" I mumbled, my eyes no longer open. 

"Goodnight baby, we love you"

And with that, they both cuddled me as close as they possibly could, their eyes closing as we laid together. 

[daemonmage]

A Stupid Batfam AU

Jason’s and Bruce’s rocky relationship is actually a pr move to make sure the rest of the batfam doesn’t get attacked by reporters and gcpd.

Essentially Red Hood, while liked by the Crime Alley citizens and other citizens as well, has a pretty bad reputation with a lot of the rest of the city. The GCPD hate him for his overt violence and the head incident. The Media hates him cause he’s what they all feared Batman would become and are constantly creating news stories on him. A lot of the other citizens are just scared of him cause sometimes his temper gets out of control. It’s not the best reputation.

Bruce and Jason have long since talked and settled their differences. Well, it’s more of a “I don’t approve of your methods but I will acknowledge you as a person who wants to help, but I will still dislike the guns. Also I missed you” from Bruce and “I’m not happy with a lot of your decisions but I also understand why you came to those decisions. I’m still mad but I now know that you missed me and I missed you too” from Jason. They’re better than they were originally and honestly that’s all they could hope for. Jason visits the manor more and is having fun being brothers to Dick and Tim.

Here’s the thing though… his reputation as Red Hood may have accidentally spread to the other Bats. A few team ups here and there (and the red bat on his chest) have made everyone assume that Batman is now working with Red Hood, a known crime lord. The media and GCPD were on them like flies on shit. Jim tries to calm down the gcpd with mixed results, but he can’t stop the media from blowing this out of proportion. It’s like the news channels from Dark Knight Returns, but worse.

Jason, who just got his family back, is fucking pissed. Jason is also dramatic as hell. Bruce was willing to just deal with this, but Tim is too new at this to be caught in the crossfire. Bruce was just gonna bench him out of fear until things calm down (he’s dealt with this before) but Jason brings up his plan to Bruce. Bruce isn’t as dramatic as Jason, however he is still absolutely dramatic. He agrees. So begins an epic fight between two ideals that ends two vigilantes at each other’s throats constantly.

Red Hood and Batman fight any time they are together, Red Hood is arrested by Batman on multiple occasions, and Red Hood always escapes leaving terrifying threats spray painted where the bat can see. (Jason and Bruce give each others shit for the pot shots they take and Bruce compliments Jason’s form when he gets a good hit in, Bruce gives Jason a heads up to the easier ways to get out of a police car and Jason ignores him going for the most dramatic ways, Bruce complains that the code Jason uses for his threats are obvious and he can just ask Alfred himself for cookies, why does Bruce have to be the middle man.)

The super hero community doesn’t really know this (cause they can be pretty bad actors at times, says Bruce) tis can cause problems. Superman and Green Arrow capturing Red Hood. Batman had to pull the “he’s Gotham’s problem give him to me,” which led to a hour of arguing to get Jason back. Tim’s friend have Red Hood on their hit list for what Hood did to Robin (Tim is over it but he does use this as a way to get back at his brother when he pisses him off) and Red Hood has to be on the Villain List to sell the act, so every hero ever knows the Red Hood is a villain. This leads to chaos.

There are still rough moments where Bruce and Jason still fight, but it’s better. Jason gets to hang out and play games with Tim. He plans overly dramatic fights with Dick (with full plot cause these two are so extra.) He helps Alfred in the kitchen again talking about books they’ve both read. He and Bruce talk again, they talk about their fears and what they’ve missed. It’s better, and that’s all that really matters.