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squirmhoney · 1 year

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A Lesson Learnt

(Part Two of What he’s owed)

A/N: I didn’t even think I’d write a part 2 but here we are. Also I said I’d never write anal but here I am writing it and I actually thoroughly enjoyed the way it turned out. As always please read the warnings. Warnings: Yandere! Dick Grayson. Non con. Dub Con. Anal. Smut. Dacrayphilia. Hostage situation. 18+ Minors DNI Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Word count: 3.3k+

Wayne Enterprise technology had always fascinated you since being in the manor. While you had never taken an interest in becoming a vigilante, you thought you could see yourself working for Wayne Enterprise one day. But if Dick had any say in it, you sure you'd be house bound for the rest of eternity.

As the days had gone on, Dick had practically turned you into his personal sex slave. And the advanced technology that once fascinated you, didn't any longer. Instead you looked at it with a deep hatred and anger as it now had been used against you in one of the most cruelest ways. The black anklet laughing at you humourlessly as it bound you to the four walls of Dick Grayson's room.

In one way you were glad that he hadn't just hand cuffed you to his bed, at least giving you the freedom to walk around the bedroom and access to the en-suite. But he still had you as his hostage or as you liked to call it "his personal sex doll." As much as Dick adored that term, telling you that he knew how much you loved it, he also liked to tell you that you were more than that to him. You were everything to him.

But you just couldn't see it.

However, you couldn't deny the worry that etched in your stomach every time he came back more bruised than the night before. Or the fear that after every argument before he left your bedroom doors might be your last and you regretted to leave him in on such terms.

And because of that, you begun to hate yourself more than you ever hated Dick. But you'd never allow these feelings to show, burying them deep every time he walked through those bedroom doors. The only time you became vulnerable was after a few rounds in bed, being pushed to the point of a sobbing mess on top of him. Then you'd cling to him like your life depended on it, not wanting him to ever go.

A hand cupped your face, stirring out of your sleep as a voice followed it, "My pretty fuck doll all tucked up in bed for me."

"I'm tired," you murmured, trying to snuggle back into the comfort of the bed. You knew Dick wouldn't listen, he never did but you tried every time anyway. "Let me sleep, please."

"Baby, don't test me tonight," his voice was rough, coming out as a harsh warning that had your stomach churning. "You have until I get these clothes off me to be on top of those bed sheets."

"No."

Dick chuckled but there was no smile that met his lips, only a dark gaze that lingered on your form under his sheets. He was quick to tear his clothes off, letting each item drop to the floor with a slight thud, giving you time to be ready for him.

But you were being disobedient as always.

"I think you like how mean I can be to you," Dick hummed, crawling over the bed sheets towards you. His hand wrapped around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to draw your attention so you turned to him. "Are you going to be good for me tonight?"

Even with your eyes open you could barely see him in the dark room but you didn't miss how the moon hit off his shoulders, highlighting the new bruise there. You grimaced at the sight, eyes softening and you knew he noticed.

"Worried about me, are we?" A smirk settled onto his lips, grip on your throat loosening. "You know how you can make me feel better."

"Dick, please," you pleaded. "Just give me a break tonight."

"But then who's going to make my dick wet tonight," Dick purred into the subtle skin of your neck. "Be a good girl for me and you'll get treated like one."

Dick looked over you, hand lifting from your throat as he used both arms to cage you in. He smiled when you shuddered underneath him, admiring the way goosebumps covered you arms in slight fear. He knew even with how much you wanted to deny it, there'd be a pool waiting for him between your thighs.

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to wear clothes in my bed," he tutted, tugging at the edge of his t-shirt you were wearing. Within a second it was off, ripped from your body and behind him in a pile with the rest of his clothes. "Much better."

Of course you were still going to wear clothes, wanting to keep the one last shred of dignity you had in this room. Otherwise you would of admitted defeat and that isn't something you were so easily willing to do.

His knee pushed your thighs open, making it easier for him to manoeuvre himself between your legs. With how close he was getting to your core, you could feel the tears already brimming in your eyes, embarrassed with knowing how wet he already made you. You couldn't help the way your body reacted to him, you couldn't even begin to understand it yourself.

"I don't want to do this tonight," your voice was desperate as your hands came out to push him away. "Please."

Next thing you knew was your hands were pinned above your head, Dick hovering his face above yours as he frowned. His pupils completely blown out as he stared at you, making you turn away.

"I'm sorry," you were quick to mutter out, lips quivering at the thought of what was about to happen.

"I gave you a chance, don't say I didn't."

"I'll be good."

"I warned you enough already, looks like you need to learn."

Dick shoved your thighs apart, hand reaching down to slap across your pussy. He chuckled at the way you bucked your hips and gasped, repeating the action again but specifically to your puffy clit.

"At least you remembered not to wear any panties this time."

It was mortifying when he brought his fingers up in front of you, showing you how they were already coated in your juices. He pushed them into his mouth, humming in sweet delight at the taste.

"Such a mess for me."

His fingers reached back down, forcing their way into your walls to make sure you were fully stretched for him. You could feel the coolness of one of his rings entering you and you couldn't help yourself as you bucked your hips towards him. If there was one thing Dick Grayson knew how to do right, that was how to massage your walls. Whether it was his fingers or his dick, he'd have you a whorish mess for him in no time.

"Oh Dick," you whimpered when his fingers slid out of you.

"Don't worry pretty thing, I'm still going to take care of you," he chuckled menacingly, flipping you over onto your stomach. His hands moulded you into place so easily, having your face stuffed into his pillows and your back in that perfect arch. "See you know exactly what you're doing, Princess."

That nickname made your stomach churn, feeling the bile rise at your throat. He used to call you that when you first moved in, making sure you felt like a Princess in these walls and he was supposed to be your knight. But really he had been your captor in disguise and it made you wonder how long he had been praying on you for.

His fingers slid across your folds, gathering your slick and spreading it. You felt his thumb slide past your entrance, running over your other hole making you twist your head back to look at him.

"We definitely have to play with this hole sometime soon," Dick said, thumb circling the rim of it. "I bet you'd enjoy this. I know I would."

Without warning he pushed his thumb into you, making you wince at the intrusion not being at all prepared for it. You tried to wriggle away, not comfortable with the way it felt but he wasn't having any of it. His free hand held your hips in place, grip tightening to keep you still.

"Stay still for me and I'll make it feel better," he directed you, using more of your wetness to loosen you up. You grinded down on your teeth at the pressure, your hand even gripping onto the head board in front of you. "It'll ease up in a second just stay fucking still."

You were whimpering now, shoving your head into the pillows to hide your noises. You never even thought about doing this but of course Dick wanted every part of you he could take, not happy till he had conquered your whole body.

Like he said, it eased up eventually. The lube of your own slick being worked in help it open up and the feeling had your walls clenching down for some sort of needed release. One that Dick was too eager to give.

Dick's tip prodded against you, gathering wetness before poking at your entrance. With his thumb still inside your other hole, Dick pushed himself into your cunt, making sure to bottom out. And you really couldn't deny how close you could feel yourself to your orgasm, the new pressure building something new inside of you.

"Dick," you let out in a harsh breath, needing his attention.

"You're okay, baby," he groaned, sliding his free hand across your back. "It's all okay."

His thrusts inside you were slow, painfully slow. But with the way his thick cock filled you had you clenching around him, mewling like some sort of bitch in heat.

And he was loving every filthy second of it.

"Dick I'm gunna- I'm-" you gasped, hands clawing at the material of the sheets underneath you. Your legs trembled violently, orgasm approaching and you felt your head spinning with how intense you were feeling.

"I've got you, baby."

His words had you creaming around his cock, the most dirtiest sound being torn from your throat as you climaxed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your legs completely gave out from underneath you. Dick had to place a hand underneath your hips, holding you in position as you rode your high out.

"See how I take care of you."

He slid a second finger in, making you wince as he stretched your asshole open. You could tell what he was doing and as much you wanted to refuse him this, you knew he'd take it from you whether you were okay with it or not.

"Dick it's too much," you cried, letting out harsh breaths as his fingers and dick worked in your separate holes. "S'too much."

"This is what brats like you get," Dick groaned from above you, rolling his hips into yours. "If you had just been good, I would have gone easy on you. Now it's all about what I want and what I really want is to cum in this hole." He shoved his fingers in deep, chuckling at how you tensed at the feeling.

Even though you were stuck in a daze from the way Dick was drilling into you, you were still paralysed in fear at what he was about to do to you.

His fingers slid out of you with a quiet pop, making you feel slightly empty and gaping for him. His hands grabbed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart in the most unholy way.

"Be a good girl for me and listen to what I say."

"Okay," you said so obediently.

"That's a good girl, keep this up and I'll make sure to be good to you tomorrow."

You couldn't see him but you could tell Dick was grinning proudly down at you, probably staring at the mess between your cheeks like some possessed man. The worst part was you wanted to see what he looked like, wanted to admire how he looked at you. And you despised yourself for it, making you feel more disgusted at yourself than you had ever felt before him. You were becoming sick for him, being moulded into his personal sex slave the more he fucked you dumb on his cock.

When his cock slid out of your cunt, you whined for him, only to gasp suddenly as his tip poked at your other hole. While Dick was your first, and probably the only person you'd ever be with, you knew he was big. Having nothing to compare him to didn't make his size any less daunting. He was thick and long, a stretch every time he entered your cunt and you were honestly confused at how he thought he was ever going to fit into your ass.

But when Dick set his mind to something, there wasn't anything that was going to stop him. You knew that a little too well.

"Breathe for me."

You listened to him, trying to breath through your shakiness as you felt himself breeching your hole but it was a struggle. When his tip slipped in, you were all tense, fighting against the sensation to have him inside of you. With that he pulled out, a huff leaving his lips and you could sense he was getting agitated with your behaviour.

"When I say breathe, I mean fucking breathe. Relax for me or it's going to be more painful than pleasurable for you," his voice came out from a deep growl in his chest, letting you know how he serious he was being.

He had never been mean to you before that night, only ever showing you his caring side as he took care of you. You hated how he could change, sometimes wishing he would revert back to his soft side. But at least this way you could differentiate it as two different people. And with the way he fucked you most of the time, relentless and uncaring, you needed to differentiate him from the man you once saw as a protector and in ways a brother.

It was easier that way.

"It hurts," you cried, body trembling at his harsh words.

"I know," he was all soft again, hand rubbing your back to ease you up. Your stomach stirred at this, feeling yourself relax at his warm touch. "It'll be okay, just take steady breaths."

You did, taking deep inhale and exhales as you felt him press his tip against your hole again. He nudged himself in you further, pulling out and repeating until your walls eased to accommodate his size. Once he managed to push himself all the way in, he was groaning at the sensation, throbbing inside of you. While you were gasping, trying to catch your breath as you bit down on your tongue.

"Touch your pussy for me," Dick demanded, taking your hand that was gripping at the sheets. He placed it between your thighs, guiding it to your clit as he applied pressure there. "Trust me on this one."

And you did, fingers rubbing circles into your clit. While you took care of yourself there, Dick got lost in the feeling of his cock in the tightness of your new hole. He couldn't even hide how good it was making him feel, moaning as he thrusted himself inside of you.

Oh, you really wished to see him now.

His hands on your cheeks were used as leverage as he started to pick up the pace, becoming feral behind you. Your vision was so blurry from the tears and the haze he had you in, you really felt like you could pass out from it all.

"Dick," you let out inbetween the most lewdest noises, your fingers pressing harder into your clit. "I think- I-" You could barely speak in coherent sentences and Dick was probably clueless to what you were saying. But Dick could sense how he was making you feel, seeing how you were so close again.

"See how I'm taking such care of you," Dick grunted in a heavy breath, grip on your cheeks becoming bruising as he held onto you. "I can feel how good I make you feel, Princess."

You clenched down, hard. The word hitting some nerve that you really didn't like.

"Like it when I call you that," Dick hummed. "Princess."

"Please, no," you pleaded really wishing you wouldn't come to him calling you that. It was too messed up for you to fathom, you didn't want to think this was your sweet Dick, you needed to picture him as a different person. "Don't call me that. Not that."

"But I like the way your walls hold me when I do," Dick admitted, thrusting just a little bit harder. "Princess."

You lost it, clamping down on him in the midst of it all. Your fingers worked in a messy pace, hand becoming shaky as you continued to rub yourself. You could feel yourself dripping onto the bed at how intense your orgasm was and you felt deeply embarrassed with the moans that were being ripped from the back of your throat.

"Fuck that's it," Dick's voice was unrecognisable from behind you, a crumbling mess himself as your orgasm sent him over the edge. He hunched over you, abs pressed to your back as they tensed and untensed as he came inside of you. Your walls were practically milking him and you could feel each spurt of cum fill your hole.

He made sure to empty his balls completely, with a few sloppy thrusts and slipped out of you as he rolled to the side. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, making you feel like some sort of used toy. And you hated that feeling because you found yourself a teary eyed mess crawling over to him.

Usually his arms would be open and ready to take you in, holding you to his chest. But Dick was visibly shaking from the orgasm he just had, breathing still ragged as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Dick," you let out in a choked cry, grabbing his attention.

Dick's eyes widened at you, almost forgetting you were there in his fucked up state but as soon as he saw those wet eyes, he softened again. He grabbed you, pulling you onto his chest so he could hold you against him. His hand caressed your back, fingers tickling your subtle skin.

You nestled your face into his neck, hands grabbing at his biceps to cling onto him. A pathetic mess.

Without warning Dick's hand came full force against your ass cheek, making you sob even harder into him.

"Dick, please," you begged him, feeling your nails dig in as you felt more of his cum spill out of you.

You were sure he could feel it to, probably dripping onto his toned stomach underneath you.

"Can we please rest now?" You were all choked up, hoping he would take it easy on you.

"I'm sorry, Princess," he started saying, fingers now toying with the cum between your cheeks. "But if you had just played nice like I asked you then I would of taken it easy."

"I'm sorry."

You feel how smug he was against you, adoring how vulnerable he could make you with just his dick. There was no way he was going to let you up tonight with the way your voice was making his cock harden all over again.

His fingers pinched at your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. You couldn't ignore the deep contrast in your teary eyed expression to his cheesy smirk, it made you feel heated the way he liked dominating you like this.

"How about this? If you be a good for me for the rest of the night, I'll let you have more of a lie in tomorrow." His smile widened as he thought of something else, pinching your chin even harder. "And I'll even eat you out for breakfast."

God, he was sick.

But so were you as you nodded in agreement, taking all he would give you.

"See look at you learning so quickly." His lips were shoved against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he spoke, "That's a good fuck doll."

#yandere dick grayson #yandere dick Grayson x reader #yandere nightwing #yandere nightwing x reader #dick Grayson x reader #dick grayson smut

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knullanon · 1 year

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Might I ask for the yandere batboys (+ stephanie maybe, so all robins 👉👈) discovering that they are all behind the same shy!reader (fem or gn) (romantic)?

sure! also everyone is aged up because yknow. but I hope you guys enjoy this, because I did when I was writing it!

words: 1101

warnings: mentions of stalking, possessiveness, lmk if I missed any!

~~~

dick doesn't notice anything about the others at all, until either you point it out or they do. he might even figure it out on his own just through his stalking problem.

when he does find out, though, he's trying his absolute hardest to make you like him more. gifts, helping you without hesitation, hell he might even just admit his feelings to you.

however, this is short lived because everybody notices and gets pissed off. since they aren't doing anything about their feelings, neither should he. I think that's how the whole thing would play out, nobody admitting anything, or if they did, they retract it immediately.

anyways, his relationship doesn't change much after he finds out about everyone else. he just seems a bit too close for everyone's comfort, even yours.

he likes to bring you out to different places, and while it's usually set in a platonic setting, he likes to pretend to himself that you two are together, and that there's no one else who wants to take you.

gets very jealous easily, and even though he tries not to show it, he gets upset every time you talk about your romantic interests. even if they're fictional, you can feel his mood drop just from mentioning anyone.

jason, on the other hand, could tell immediately that some of his siblings had the same crush. really just damian and dick, but that's still something.

he doesn't go about it the way that everyone else does, however: he instead tries to hang out with you, doing things that seem more brotherly, and sometimes more fatherly.

doesn't care about the others unless they start acting romantically. he puts a stop to that real fast, under the guise of brotherly protection.

he's come to terms that he'll never get to have you as a partner, so hes more passive whenever you talk about things like that. he wants you to be the happiest you can be while also still being in your life.

his favorite thing to do with you is showing you how to do things. you've never changed a tire? you don't know how to fix a washer? unlike dick, who simply wants to help you to seem more desirable to you, jason genuinely wants to teach you and show you how to do things.

while he mainly does it so that you know what to do, he also partially does it so that you won't be asking anyone else for help.

tim is also very shy, so for a while you think he's the odd one out of his family. he doesn't talk to you much, he excuses himself a lot if you're in the room, and every time you do talk to him, he avoids eye contact and doesn't say more than 3 words.

while tim doesn't always act this way, you've found that if you just corner him and try to engage in a conversation he becomes much more comfortable, and eventually, he only becomes shy if his siblings are talking to you.

he has mixed feelings about the whole situation. on one hand, he's sad that he can't explore anything with you and that it might be someone else. on the other hand, he knows that it might be inevitable and that he should be worrying about who you might choose.

he knows that you view them more platonically, so he's not worried about them, but more rather the people around you. while he doesn't get worried or possessive around his family, he will get that way in front of people who he thinks have a chance with you.

he likes to just hang out with you. whatever you want to do, he'll do it, even if he doesn't have any interest in it. he'll pay for a lot, too. food, trinkets, clothes, anything you want you can just ask him.

damian instantly notices everyone else's attraction, how could he not. he doesn't confront anyone at first, just giving everyone the meanest side eye until they all sit down after someone (dick) almost tells you about their crush. They tell each other that none of their feelings can be revealed, as it would create conflict between all of them.

damian doesn't really change how he acts around you, since he's basically just being nice to you, while passive aggressive with everyone else. there's not a lot of change there.

he likes to take you around on hikes, usually trails or paths that aren't known very well, but have a beautiful payout at the end of them. he brings your favorite food, and you both sit and talk about whatever.

out of all of them, however, he has the biggest reaction to seeing other people who aren't his siblings try to ask you out. he gets in their face, acting like he has a problem with them, being more aggressive than with everyone else.

he's the only one out of the five who actively doesn't want you to get in a relationship with someone else. this isn't because he's secretly planning something, but he doesn't think anyone besides him or his siblings should get to have that chance. the only reason he isn't really doing anything about his siblings is because while he might semi hate them, they're still his siblings, and they're still his family.

--cannot find one for stephanie I'm sorry :(--

stephanie originally wasn't included in their talk about keeping their feelings to themselves. so she does actually try something, but is quickly stopped by the rest of the group.

when it's explained to her why she shouldn't do anything about her feelings, shes originally going to completely disregard the whole thing and continue trying to pursue you, tim somehow convinces her to just let her feelings sit.

while she originally didn't want you to be with anyone else, she drops it just as quickly since she finds that it's actually fun to act as matchmaker, which she also drops quickly since she got tired of being hunted by damian.

she likes bringing you out of the manor, really anywhere. since you're the introvert, she's your extrovert friend who drags you everywhere, even if you're unenthusiastic. sometimes, she won't even bring you to crowded places, instead she'll bring you in the city, but on skyscrapers and show you different areas of the city.

while she sometimes feels sad about how she will never be able to tell you the truth, she always gets over it quickly. she likes seeing you happy, even if it's not with her, which for her, is all she needs.

~~~

sorry this took so long :( ily guys sm, tho!!

if you like this work, reblog or like it! thank you! <3

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your-regular-toast-enjoyer · 1 year

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Yandere Dick Grayson headcanons/Yandere Nightwing headcanons

Dick Grayson x reader. Yandere!Dick Grayson x reader/ Yandere Dick Grayson x Reader

Nightwing x reader. Yandere!Nightwing x reader/ Yandere Nightwing x Reader

Word count: 3236 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, kidnapping, toxic family relations, obsession, manipulation.

I’m imagining that the two of you met each other when you were young. Maybe you were a part of Teen Titans or Young Justice. Let’s say that you were someone’s sidekick. It doesn’t matter whose, as long as it isn’t Batman’s.

At first, he wouldn’t notice you much, he was too interested in Starfire, Koriand’r. And he already had a best friend in the form of Kid Flash, Wally West.

You were likely not the team’s best fighter, not the worst either, just an average, middle-of-the-road hero sidekick, who followed your leader’s orders and got your job done with minimal obstacles. Perhaps you were also a bit of a lone wolf, doing most of your missions alone or with one specific teammate who’s your best friend on the team… Your version of a Wally, if you will… This would certainly keep your true skills and personality hidden from Dick longer.

For years, you were just another teammate to Dick. His friend? Certainly! But nothing more…

Then one day, during an incredibly dangerous mission, luck isn’t on the team’s side. You’re all hunched together behind a large object within some rogue’s lair, and Dick is trying to find any possible solution that will get you all out of there safely, all plans of completing the mission abandoned.

The whole team is focused on Dick, waiting patiently for his verdict. All, except you. You’ve spotted some weak spot or opening, which, (while risky), could bring this nightmare to a close for all of your teammates. You know that you’ll be putting yourself in a high-risk situation, that there’s a near-certain likelihood that you’ll get hurt and a chance of death which isn’t too far behind in terms of possibility. That’s exactly why you don’t mention your plans to anyone before setting them into motion. It’s irresponsible, but you see no other way out.

Jumping straight into the action, no one notices your disappearance until your opponent howls in excruciating pain. The entire team turns to you exploiting the enemy’s weakness to your advantage. They’re amazed, you’re getting attacks through to the foe they thought untouchable, well… You were… until your plan backfired spectacularly.

The enemy gets one good hit in, and you’re on the ground, wheezing for air. Strange bulges on the sides of your costume clearly show how your ribs have cracked apart like sticks under a soldier’s boot. The team isn’t necessarily able to concern themselves with you right at that moment though as Dick orders them all to attack immediately. He then enlists the help of whichever other team member you’re closest to, to drag you back to your previous hiding spot. Making sure that you cannot be further harmed, as he then joins in on the fight.

It isn’t until you’re laying passed out in a hospital bed, multiple surgeries having been done on your broken ribcage and ruptured spleen, that Dick cracks. He yells at your teammates to leave the room if they’ve come to visit you. “They need rest! Are you blind?! I can’t have all of you running in and out, disturbing their healing process!” The others relent, he’s got a point after all. Besides, what is the point of visiting you when you haven’t even woken up from the surgeries yet?

Only when Dick is sure that no one is there to see him does he break down. It starts with small droplets of salty tears collecting in his eyes, but as they start to roll further and collect in the bottom of his domino mask, he rips the thing off violently. Dick realises that this might be one of the first times where he has been around you without his mask. He usually keeps it on whenever he’s talking about missions… and he now recognises that’s pretty much all you two talk about. It makes him feel worse. He was so close to pretty much everyone in the team… everyone except you. What type of leader makes such a mistake? He’s supposed to be someone you can trust and talk to… Well, your previous stunt proves to him that you felt like you could do neither, and now you’re lying here, unconscious and brutally hurt… All because of Dick’s neglect. He vows to make it up to you.

He sits by your side for hours, holding your hand gently, until you wake up. “What were you thinking?” It comes out harsher than Dick intended it to, but he’s just frustrated at himself, he genuinely wanted to know what had been going through your head at that moment. Had you done it for the good of the team? To accomplish the mission? To punish him for his accidental negligence? Well! You’ve certainly done all three!

You answer all his questions curtly, which is to be expected and almost impressive… You just woke up from multiple extensive surgeries, (for which you were sedated), most others would be rambling at this point.

It is after this event that Dick starts to keep constant tabs on you…Stalking you, if you will… He feels as if he needs to constantly know where you are, what you are doing, and who you are with. He feels that if he doesn’t know all these things constantly, then you are probably in danger. I mean, look what happened to you the last time Dick didn’t know where you were!

You might start to notice how Dick will cling to your side the moment you enter one of the common areas. He’ll obsessively try to get to know you. Questions like, “What’s your favourite colour?”, “Who’s your favourite band?”, “Do you prefer apples or pears?”; “Vanilla or chocolate?”, “Cats or dogs?”, and so on, will be slung at you with impressive speed. It feels like he’s collecting information for some type of database…(which he might be)… and it will slowly start to make you uncomfortable.

Your discomfort at Dick’s interrogation-like behaviour might make you slowly go less and less out into the common areas, hoping to escape his company.

You not coming out into the common area as often doesn’t sit right with Dick though. He gets anxious and starts to think that you’re distancing yourself from the entire team. That thought in turn leads to him thinking that you’re planning on quitting the team because of your accident, returning back to your mentor’s side as a sidekick once again.

Dick refuses to let that happen. He’ll put you on so many missions and patrols with him that you barely have time to do much else. You’ll start to miss your best friend from the team. You two used to do all your patrols together. However, now that you and Dick are always together, they have to go out on patrols with Koriand’r or Wally. It’s like a patrol partner shift, and you much preferred your old one.

One day you might confront Dick about his recent behaviour change and he panics. “What do you mean?! Are you saying that you don’t like my company?! I’m just trying to get to know you better! We never hung out before! Do you not like me or something?! Why are you complaining about hanging out with me?!” He looks so hurt that it’s hard for you to voice your concerns. It’s worse than a kicked puppy, this is a puppy that has been beaten with a bat. His look of betrayal is so intense that you slowly back off.

If you are someone who has a hard time seeing others hurting, you might ask him if he’s okay. What’s going on in his life? Does he wanna talk about it? If you do that, he’ll probably break down. He won’t be crying, Dick was after all raised by the Batman, but he might hug you close to him and explain how scared he was after your accident. How he truly thought he lost you. His speech will be so earnest that you’ll practically be unable to reprimand his behaviour change. I mean, how could you? Especially when your team leader has laid out his bleeding heart for you.

The truth is… Dick’s outburst was entirely fabricated. Does it mirror exactly how he feels? Yes. However, Dick uses his vulnerability as a weapon for manipulation. Oh! How could you treat him like that? He just wants to help! … Yeah, help himself alleviate this building sense of butterflies that is eating away at his stomach.

Dick is a manipulative little…not so little… shite. He will make you feel responsible for all of his negative emotions if you try to distance yourself from him. On the other hand, he’ll protect you from anything and everything… But boy does he make you aware that he’s going out of his way every. Single. Day. just to protect you from harm.

Your relationship with the other teammates will slowly deteriorate as Dick doesn’t feel he can trust them with you, keeping you away from them. Even your best friend. Dick himself will keep up appearances and keep them all close to him. He needs them to like him so that they won’t pose a threat to you.

Dick slowly realises while in the midst of his protective services that he doesn’t just see you as a vulnerable teammate anymore. He’s gained a massive crush on you. Your eyes are like diamonds to him and your voice is music to his ears. When you look at him, a strange pain in his lower abdomen emerges. He likes it. But you won’t.

When Dick realises his feelings, his behaviour will crank up to eleven. He doesn’t even consider that you might not like him. “That’s imperative”, he thinks. Dick is good-looking, he always has been, and people have always praised him for it. He has had multiple girlfriends and people who were willing to throw themselves at his feet for just a kiss. How could you not like him? Everyone else has always made him an object of desire… Whether he wanted to be or not. Well, this time he does.

Dick wants you to be just as crazy for him as he is for you. All the missions you go on will be with him alone. Your patrols with Dick will slowly start to turn into half date/half patrol, as he will flirt with you throughout the entire thing. Even when the two of you are fighting rogues, (which would pose a challenge, if he wasn’t as good of a fighter as he is, and as naturally charismatic as he can be).

Whether you’re reciprocating his flirtatious behaviour or not doesn’t matter. If you do, he’ll be over the moon, ready to go to the nearest jeweller and buy a ring to propose with. If you don’t, he’ll just see you as shy. That’s okay, it’s cute!

Whatever your reaction to his flirting is, he’ll invite you to a family dinner with Bruce, Alfred and maybe Jason/Tim, (if you guys are in Young Justice and Dick has already picked up the mantle of Nightwing).

Whether or not you want to go to the dinner. You’ll be made acutely aware by Dick that it’s really not your choice. It’s his. Now, this might’ve signalled that something was off, but at this point, you’re all too used to this treatment.

When you’re sitting in Wayne manor at a long dinner table, wearing either an uncomfortably tight dress or a navy blue suit, (to match Dick’s), you notice how tense the air is, a knife wouldn’t even be able to cut it, you’d need a chainsaw.

Dick had chosen and bought your outfit, he would never make you pay for anything. Still, the formality of it all is suffocating. As far as you are aware, you had simply come here as Dick’s friend. An extra person for him to chat with so he didn’t become bored. Wally had been here a bunch of times when they were younger, you remembered the two of them always taking off together, whenever they took time off.

Dick is finicky. Bruce’s cold stare penetrates you. Alfred seems nice but ultimately holds quiet. If either Tim or Jason is there, they’ll simply let their eyes wander from their brother to you, then back again.

You might try to alleviate the tensions by saying something like, “It’s nice to meet you all” or “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Dick’s family for the first time”. You might try to crack a joke, which only Dick will chuckle at. No matter what you do, you’ll simply receive a nod from Bruce, a smile from Alfred or a questioning look from the younger brother.

When the food is served, you’ll occupy yourself with that. If you have long hair, you’ll suddenly feel Dick take a piece of it and move behind your ear, while you’re trying to take a bite. If you don’t, Dick might wipe away some invisible food from the corner of your mouth. “I love you”, he suddenly mutters.

You stand still, taking in what Dick just said. You might try to play it off with a, “Yeah, you too, dude. You’re a great friend”. But Dick isn’t having it. He’ll be bolder in his confession. “I am in love with you”. Everyone at the table is now looking at you two. You realise why Dick brought you here. He wanted to put you on the spot so you couldn’t refuse. Manipulative as ever.

If you say that you reciprocate his feelings. Then the tension in the room suddenly dissipates. Bruce starts to indulge you in his dry humour. Alfred starts to act like the grandfather that everyone has always dreamed of, with old stories galore and soft jabs at the men in the family. Jason/Tim starts to share embarrassing stories of Dick. “Oh! Did you know that Dick once tried to make a summersault while hanging from the chandelier and then, when the thing swung too much, he was thrown through a window… Still landed the summersault though!” You’ll have a great evening, finally enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking properly. Dick will be overjoyed and he’ll kiss you deeply multiple times throughout the night. You’ll properly end up sharing his bed in his old bedroom… Make of that what you will…

However, if you refuse his feelings. Saying that you do not reciprocate… Well, Dick will stand still for a second. They all will. Then Dick’s face will turn cold. Colder than you have ever seen it. “Did I say you had a choice in the matter?” Dick will tackle you to the ground, and wrestle with you until he finally has you in a joint lock. You might try to call out for the others to help you, but Alfred will have guided Dick’s younger brother back to his bed and Bruce is willing to do anything for his oldest son… even ignoring him kidnapping a teammate. Bruce will slowly retire to the Batcave, getting ready for patrol, as Dick forces his lips on yours, demanding that you either start loving him back or at least pretend to do so.

As opposed to someone like adult Damian, Dick doesn’t care if you actually love him. He’d prefer you to do so, obviously. But to him, the most important thing is that he can play make-believe and that the two of you act like a loving couple. He doesn’t believe it to be a punishment to be with him, even if you don’t love him. He’s objectively handsome and he knows it, everyone else has always bowed down to him based on his looks and charisma, and he will make sure that you’re no different.

If you refuse his declaration of love, he’ll tie you up in his old childhood bedroom. He’ll quit your team on both of your behalfs, naming Aqualad as the new leader. From then on, he’ll fight by Bruce’s side as Nightwing, his way of paying back his father for seeing through his fingers with Dick’s crimes. When he’s not doing vigilante work, he’ll be right by your side. Caressing and loving you. Making you break to his will. And if your previous mentor has anything to say, Bruce will reassure them that something traumatic happened to you. That your best friend and boyfriend, Dick, is simply taking care of you until you’re feeling better. Since it’s Bruce, the Batman, telling them this, they won’t second guess it. He’s justice, after all.

Whether you reciprocated or not. Dick would probably find it safer for the two of you to stay in Wayne manor. Even if you did reciprocate his feelings, he’ll make both of you quit the team and move in with Bruce.

When Dick judges that he can trust you enough, he’ll let you roam throughout the entire manor. Not outside though, Gotham is a dangerous city. The only safe place is within the manor’s walls since it’s so well-protected.

Bruce would enjoy having his oldest son back and he would partially credit this to you. He’d treat you relatively nicely. If there’s a hobby you really enjoy, Bruce might give you the go-ahead to just take one of the rooms in the manor and convert it into whatever you like, a gamer room? An atelier? Whatever you want it to be, go for it!

Alfred would be kind to you as well. If you’re stuck there against your will, he will feel immense guilt. But he is bound to follow Bruce’s orders and has no choice but to cooperate. He’ll always be there for you to talk and vent your frustrations to, though. He’ll even bake you his famous chocolate-chip biscuits if you want them.

If it’s Jason who’s in the house at the time, I can see him trying to connect with you tentatively by asking you to read Jane Austen to him or go to you when he needs to get patched up.

If it’s Tim, he might ask you about your time on the Teen Titans/Young Justice team, he’ll be in total awe, and might even get you to help him with homework, (even if he could’ve easily done it himself).

Whichever brother it might be, Dick will allow you to spar with them. He’d like for your fighting skills to stay well-tuned, in case you’ll ever need to defend yourself. You’ll never be better at fighting than Dick though, he’s trained since he was a pre-teen and his mentor was Batman… There’s no beating that.

In short. Dick will keep you forever. He’ll be obsessive and protective, nothing will come between your love, not even you. He’ll use his father’s unconditional love for his eldest son to his advantage, and he’ll manipulate you every which way fits him. He’ll build a family with you, whether you want to settle down or not, and not once regret any of it. If you fight his love, he’ll have no sympathy. Dick is confident, he’s been treated as an object of eros by the press and most others outside his family since he was a teen, all because of his agreeable personality and striking looks. It warped his perception of self massively. He doesn’t understand that there could ever be anyone who doesn’t want him. So, to be extra concise. If you gain him as a yandere, you’re royally screwed.

#yandere dick grayson #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #yandere nightwing #nightwing x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere nightwing x reader

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obsessionsposts · 2 years

Text

🦅Yandere! Nightwing (General) Headcanons🦅:

Tw: Yandere themes, Abuse of Authority, Staking, Implied captivity, Unhealthy relationship, Delusional mindset, Infantilisation, Gaslighting, Emotional manipulation.

Whether you’re a regular citizen from Blüdhaven, a fellow vigilante, or a villain that wracks havoc for a life you’re bound to meet Nightwing at some point. Amplify the chances by tenfold, if it was the latter.

He sees it as his duty to save his darling. Be it from petty thugs, other supervillains, or even themselves. That is where his delusional side shines the most. Dick views his darling as someone helpless in need of guidance and protection. He’ll gladly take the mantle, regardless if they want to or not.

He seeks in them what he lacked in his relationship with Bruce. He wishes nothing more to form an emotional connection with them and huddle them close. Out of all the batfamily, he has the most gregarious and magnetic character. Gaining their utmost respect and attention will be short and sweet due to his personality unless they were quite reclusive, even then he could find a way around the problem.

As a great detective, he is able to find anything regarding his darling. Medical records, family, hobbies, likes, dislikes, associates and everything of importance towards his goal to woo them. From the information, he could twist his personality to fit into his darling ideal person.

Nightwing will definitely find a way to burrow himself into his darling’s life to slowly manipulate it into his preferable vision of their relationship. Be it by his heroic image, or as “Dick Grayson”.

As a Nightwing, he could’ve them detained as a suspect for a crime they have not committed and no one will bat an eye or go against him due to his reputable social position amongst the people and hero alike. Whilst as Dick Grayson, he is using his charismatic disposition to sway them towards him. Or money, if they were in a desperate financial situation. Anything to help his darling, that what he thinks.

Dick is clingy as much as he is obsessive, that overlaps with his overprotective and controlling tendencies. As stated above, he sees his darling as someone weak and as such he will be someone that they can rely on. It is all good and dandy, until it extends to basic activities. Cooking? No, No. That’s too dangerous for you, darling. You can burn yourself, if that happens am I a truly good boyfriend? Let me do it, instead. Going out with friends at night? That’s fine, so long I accompany you. You never know the threats that lurks around.

If his darling argued enough, then he will begrudgingly let them leave but with an eye on their figure. Going as far as hiring thugs to send after them, then save them to show them how cruel the world around them appears to be. Maybe then, they will associate “safety” with him.

His love languages are physical affection and gift giving. With that said, Dick is mostly handsy with them. An arm hanging around their shoulders, waist, or holding their hands in his. If by any chance he was busy by his duties, then he gifts them as a means to remind that he always have them in his mind. In his leisure times, he adores cuddling them as he hears the slow rhythm of their heartbeats and how they fit perfectly within his arms.

Dick is very conscious of the emotions of those surrounding him and he can read their ticks like an open book, so he knows when his little darling is lying. Or worse, manipulating him to “escape”. Any misbehaviours will be retaliated with gaslighting and emotional manipulation. This man is a master of both; He could reward you by waxing out how much he loves adores and cherish you, alternatively he could punish by dragging you down with cold words and detached behaviours (It hurts him more than it hurts you, but how else will you appreciate him.).

Escaping is nigh-impossible for the reason above and the fact he has connections in every nook and canny to render his naughty darling from hiding for a long time. If the darling was clever enough to strike a deal with Deathstroke, then they could hope to lay low for more than a day. Rest unassured, he will be boiling with worry and anger. Not at you, no. Never at you, god you never did anything wrong in his eyes.

Yet, he never asks himself. Were you truly abducted or went willingly to get away from his overbearing hold. The mere thought terrify him as much it breaks his heart. All in all, he sees himself as your saviour and he will rescue you from your captor. (I definitely can see him have a major beef with Slade, as if they didn’t have many beefs before lmao.)

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere Nightwing x reader #Yandere dc x reader #Yandere dc #Yandere Nightwing #Yandere

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bad4amficideas · 2 years

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Imagine being a police officer fresh out of the academy. A uniformed assigned Detective Dick Grayson as your mentor to work on your detective badge, and have him fall yandere for you.

(The version of being Bruce's or Tim's secretary but in Dick. We accept ideas for Jason and Damian)

#yandere dc x reader #free prompt #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere nightwing x reader #👾.txt

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l0vergirls · 7 months

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just a little something that's been on my mind for a while now, like it's actually rotting my brain.

cw: stalking, a bit nsfw near the end, just general yandere stuff, not proof-read!!!!! so sorry if its a bit messy !!!!

★ (romantic) yandere!batfam x reader

imagine being the shared darling of the batfam.

it only takes one of them for the rest to fall in love with you, too.

let's say you meet tim during one of the days he actually decides to go to class, and he's thanking the heavens he did.

slowly, he starts to integrate himself into your daily life, and into your friend group. they all love him, of course. who wouldn't love the kind, funny, and handsome tim drake?

during all of this, he'd already told his brothers about you, and because they can't hide anything from bruce, he finds out about you too. unsurprisingly, they come to appreciate you as much as tim has.

and suddenly, you get a particularly handsome new neighbour in the apartment across from you (which you didn't know was even up for rent) and somehow always seems to be in the middle of stripping when you're home. almost as if he can feel your eyes on him. of course, you make sure not to get caught, and avert your eyes as soon as the cloth leaves his waist.

later, you find out his name is jason, and make a good friend out of him. he smokes on his balcony, while you drink coffee on yours.

barely a week after that, you get a new regular at the café you work at. his name's dick grayson. he says it's probably best for you to yell out his last name for his orders too. he's a detective, which explains the late nights he comes into the café. he's always got a stupidly handsome smile on his face, which only adds onto his neverending charm.

and during the occasion that you're walking home alone, you always seem to run into one of the many vigilantes that guard gotham.

you meet both batman and robin during one of your walks home. you're not scared of them, as most people are; you're merely fascinated at the tall figure that towers over you, and his more colourful counterpart that is also taller than you. robin seems to be just a couple years younger than you. and batman... you can't seem to get a read on the man.

you greet them both as calmly as you can, a small smile on your lips. you get nods of acknowledgment from both of them, which you suppose is the most you're getting.

batman doesn't seem to like that you're walking alone, so he sends robin to walk you home. you don't understand why, and you tell them you've walked this route many times already, that they probably have worse things to take care of.

he tells you that you can never be too sure in gotham. with the way he says it, in that gravelly tone, you can't find yourself to disagree.

on your walk, now with robin's company, you feel safer. you also find out this robin is a man of few words, very unlike the last few robins yet much like batman.

the next night, you run into red robin, who has an air of familiarity around him. he's real friendly— in fact, it's almost like talking to a friend. you think you've seen his smile before.

the night after that, you meet nightwing in all of his spandex-clad glory. he's charming, almost flirty.

and for a week, you don't bump into any of the vigilantes, but you do feel watched. you should be frightened, by all means, but you have a feeling deep in your stomach that tells you they won't hurt you. whoever they are.

you see red hood after that week. he's the more intimidating one of the bunch, you reckon. you've nothing to be scared of, knowing he (along with all the others) only goes after the real awful people. you're not guilty of anything, as far as you know.

his voice is almost robotic, as if being run through a voice changer. it doesn't do much to help his image, though you suppose that's the point. he asks what a little thing like you is doing walking around these parts. you say you're just heading home, like all the times you've met one of them.

he lets you on his motorcycle. if you were paying enough attention, maybe you would've felt his heart beating a mile a minute.

your days go on like this for a while. class, work, walk home with one of gotham's protectors. rinse and repeat.

unbeknownst to you, cameras have been planted all around your apartment. in many angles of your bedroom too, save for your bathroom. they've decided to give you privacy in there. no matter how much dick begged.

though they do have clips saved of you walking around in just a towel, or your underwear. god knows what they're doing with those.

but truly, can you blame them? you've invaded the deepest crevices of their minds, your smell lingering on their noses, and the shape of your lips following them in their dreams.

oh, they can vividly see— almost feel your lips on theirs, and they wonder what you look like when your face is scrunched up from pleasure, as their fingers enter you.

but they'll have to wait a little longer. and they'll be damned if they lose you, when you're playing right into their hands.

this got so long !!!! i had to let this all out somewhere <//3 definitely gonna add more but i needed to cut it off at this 😭😭😭😭

#might focus on tim's part in all this next time!!!#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #— dc.#— the bats.#— yan writes.

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hana-no-seiiki · 10 days

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Ohh I got soooo many ideas, like CV reader got kidnapped by black mask (I think it's red hood nemesis, am not that deep in DC comics but I know the basics) so he could have a deal or take information out of red hood using CV reader. And when Jason found out about it he was pissed but when he got there the bad guys already down because CV reader took them down.

P.s I don't mind if you use this as a reference to make a headcanon or story on contrary i would love to read it, but it's up to you!!

🎧ྀི » [ what a catastrophy ! ] «

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

tw/cw: yandere, jason being horny/implied noncon, cat villain! reader being an absolute menace and a whore as always.

pairings: yan! batfam x cat villain/vigilante! reader

note: this happens after conflict between jason and other members of batfam are resolved and at that point cat villain! is more solidly on the cat vigilante! side

“How long is this going to take exactly? I’m about to take an involuntary cat nap with how utterly slow you all are being.”

The Court of Owls were a group of people you’ve absolutely despised on every era you’ve had under your cat mask. Whether it was your wild years as Cat Woman’s protégé or when you were basically assimilated as the Batfam’s shared s/o. You could never bring yourself to like absurdly rich people that well. Much less rich people who do bad things.

For legal and safety reasons, you have to say that the Batfamily are an exception.

You don’t know how on Earth they managed to get their hands on equipment that prevented your powers from working, but it was proving to be quite the annoying conundrum.

“I’m sorry but I’m feline a little too underwhelmed by this whole kidnapping thing. Why don’t we hurry things up a little?”

MEANWHILE . . .

“Where the hell did you take them?!”

Jason slammed Black Mask unto the wall, using the backside of his arm and pressing it against the man’s chest.

The latter’s men took a defensive, alert stance. Ready to pounce on command.

But Black Mask only gestured them to stand down.

“You have to understand, the fact that I even thought of informing you of my deal is a huge risk. I could lose my biggest benefactors.” He replied, calm and polite. In contrast to the harsh kick he deals to his assailant, making Jason back off. “I’m doing you all a favor. I’m doing [Cat Villain Name] a favor.”

“They’re currently on a private island to the south. I can’t give you the exact coordinates but here’s the general location.” He tossed a flashdrive, one swiftly caught and skimmed through by Tim.

“Why are you helping us?” Damian’s mind was already calculating the best way to get rid of everyone in this room. The grip on his katana tightening by the second. He had full faith that you were capable of taking care of yourself, but it did not help with the fear of disappearance whatsoever.

He was sure that the sight of you getting hurt would lead to him going on a rampage.

“Maybe the fact that even with my help, you kids being too late would open their mind and make them come back to our side. They’d finally learn that you’re only as good for them as Batman was to —“ Damian couldn’t stop himself anymore, knocking the man unconscious as the rest of the crew took down his goons with ease. Their worry over your current condition giving them a surprising amount of efficiency as a team.

“It’ll take several hours to even get to those islands much less even find which one . . .” Tim bit his lip. He wasn’t concerned at all. He knows you inside and out. In fact, he already knew where you were exactly. All of this info gathering was just his plan to delay things so that your patience would run out and he’d get front row seats to the carnage you’d inevitably cause. After all, there was something he can always predict when it came to you.

Your unending thirst for fun and chaos.

It took about a week for them to find you. Just about enough time for you to get antsy about not seeing your beloved pets and home.

And plenty of time for you to have your fun, pretending to be hurt, crying out in feigned agony, before you finally took down your prey.

“Red Hood! Come back! We can’t just barge in—“ Dick called out to Jason.

But all Jason could think of was the way you screamed in terror. The footage of your ‘torture’ was something he had nightmares about.

“Kitty! Are you—“ He kicked the door off its hinges, guns ready to fire.

But his sights only landed on a singular breathing being in the middle of a room. Covered in the blood of your victims. Grooming yourself clean.

Each lick sending shivers down his spine.

He sighed in relief. “You really have to stop playing with your food, Kitty.”

His lips envelopes yours as the world disappears from your vision.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

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shallyouobeyme · 5 months

Text

From the Outside

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 (Coming soon)

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Neglected Batsib!reader (GN)

Summary: You were living your life as a stranger in the house you were supposed to call home, an outsider in a group of people who were supposed to be your family. So you do your best to keep yourself distracted from your situation and go on with your life. But just how long will you be able to keep on with that?

! Minors Do Not Interact !

Requested by @sol565

TW: Not much in this one, neglect (obviously), loss of relatives, car crash (mentioned), cancer (mentioned), swearing, coming up to Yandereness in the next chapters. I'll try to proofread and edit once I finish the whole thing.

Last night you dreamed of your family again. It was a pleasant dream, one that had you wishing to keep on dreaming even after you were woken up by your alarm. All of you were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying Alfred’s excellent cooking. The room was filled with happiness and joy, the kind of atmosphere that has you reminiscing about that day for ages. In your dream you felt so weightless, Damian was sitting opposite you as he listened to you talk about your day, an anecdote of you leading to laughter filling the room. Your mother ruffled your hair from where she was sitting beside you and as you smiled up to her you felt filled with love. Around the table, the Waynes were actively interested in the conversation and Bruce was asking you a question leading to a cheeky comment from your left side. You knew what was said, but you couldn’t understand the voice. Confused you looked to where your father should be sitting but only a distorted shadow figure looked back at you.

It opened whatever would be most akin to a mouth and a blaring sound echoed out of it. Your eyes flew open as you slapped your bedside table to grab your phone. 7 A.M, time to get up. This dream had been haunting you for a few weeks now, the idyllic family dinner turning into an unpleasant reminder of your situation. At first, you had woken up in a cold sweat and slightly fearful from the end, but by now you had grown very accustomed to it. Just another part of your day to get through.

You accepted to pay the mental price for the opportunity to see your mother again, if only during the nights.

Another look at your phone to check the notifications and you got up and got dressed. Given the time you knew that you still had enough time to join your adopted siblings for breakfast, but even Alfred's amazing pancakes and french toast could to move you into the kitchen. Deciding to just nap something from your friends during lunch break at school, you grabbed your bag and jacket before quickly making your way through the manor. Like almost every morning you silently prayed that you wouldn’t come across anyone on your way to the front door. Eighty per cent of the time you were lucky, fifteen per cent you were just ignored and the other five per cent you found yourself stuck in painfully awkward small talk with the people who lived on the same floor as you. People who were supposed to be your closest friends and confidants. People who weren’t that. People who were more akin to strangers.

Today you were in luck as you managed to slip out of the giant house you hated to call home without having to talk to anyone. Getting onto your scooter, you made your way to the school, enjoying the air in your face through the helmet and the feeling of freedom that only came to you on rare occasions.

The school was still fairly empty when you arrived - as was expected - so you had the honour of walking through the empty halls like you owned the place. A sentiment that some of your schoolmates even believed. You wanted to tell them that you had no need for your Guardians money, no interest in his family’s name or his family’s reputation. Bitter thoughts filled your mind, leaving a taste of anger, of disappointment, of anguish on your tongue. They weren’t helped by what you saw when you stopped in front of the trophy showcase. There were pictures of some of the best former student-athletes that had attended the school, and the most recognizable was a picture that was proudly displayed right on eyesight. It was at a sporting event that had happened some twenty to thirty years earlier, one that was still held bi-annually. The winners of different disciplines were smiling proudly into the camera, arms around each other.

Taking the spotlight was a man that every proud Gothamite would recognize as a young Bruce Wayne on one side, a different boy who people tended to overlook based on his less noticeable features and the lack of fame he had, and in the middle of both of them stood Bruce’s former best friend. Your mother. Your late mother.

She had been a beautiful, stunning, talented woman. Everyone who had ever known her told you that. You tried to take some solace in the fact that they told you how alike the two of you were, both in looks and in personality. It did nothing to quell the underlying pain though, the pain still boiling inside you, pain that over the years had turned into anger. You weren’t angry with your mother, of course, you knew that she had not chosen to fall sick, that she had not chosen to succumb to cancer. She had loved you with all her heart and only ever wanted you to be happy. This is why, when your grandparents died in a shooting shortly after her diagnosis, she put it in her will that after her passing you were to be taken care of by her lifelong friend Bruce Wayne. After all, he already had kids and he was rich, just like she and her parents had been - money and estates that now waited on you to turn 18 to take charge of - and he’d be surely able to give you the life and the love she always wanted you to have.

Sadly, your mother had not known Bruce quite as well as she had believed she did. She had no idea that he spent his nights as the infamous Batman, or that the kids he adopted had been turned into fighting machines - sometimes even killers. She had no idea that he was not the amazing, loving and attentive father figure she had wanted you to have. Not even close.

You suppose he had tried at one point. When you were a young child, grieving the loss of your entire family and everything that you had known, he had taken you in like one of his own and assured you that from then on he’d protect you. Back then you had believed him. After all, your mother had told you so many great things about him, why should she lie. And with elder brothers and sisters, a Butler who made sure you had your favourite foods whenever you felt sad and a man who tried his best to be the father you never had. They did lots of work to spend time with you and to pay attention to you which would ensure you wouldn’t notice their weird habits and absences. But of course that couldn’t work forever. After a few months, you found out about their best (and somehow at the same time worst) kept secret and as you walked through the Batcave by Bruce’s side everything changed. He didn’t directly offer to train you, but he did insinuate that it was an option, though you declined. You couldn’t see yourself hurting others. You wanted to help like your mom had helped, by volunteering, bettering the world peacefully. Bruce had assured you that that was a completely acceptable decision and that it wouldn’t change anything. But he had lied. Perhaps knowingly, perhaps not. Maybe some of both.

Once you were aware of their second life, they didn’t put in the effort to pay enough attention to you to make you unaware of their secret. At first, they still spent time with you, but over time it seemed like you were blending into obscurity like a special bottle of champagne that was planned to be open on a special occasion only. Just that the bottle was usually remembered after the occasion had passed in annoyance. You weren’t. And as you phased out of their minds and into oblivion, you made peace with your place in the family. An outsider, a stranger inside their house, just waiting until the time had come for you to finally live your own life.

Of course, you knew you could have it worse. You had enough money to fulfil every wish you had as long as it was material, always had something to wear, something to eat, and somewhere to sleep. The only thing you didn’t have was love. But especially in Gotham you knew that you got away rather luckily with that, so while you were deeply angry towards the people who had promised to treat you like family, to love you, you also tried to just get on with your life.

It would have been easier if it wasn’t just so hard to look at your so-called siblings as if you didn’t resent them for the way they treated you, compared to one another. Somehow showing any interest in you or attempting to spend any time with you was a chore, but somehow Jason and Cass could have a little book club, Jason and Dick could go out for lunch at a cat-cafe, Steph, Cass and Tim could have Spa-days and all of them could have an occasional movie night together. It wasn’t explicitly stated that you weren’t welcome, but you had seen how they acted when you were with them compared to how they acted when you were hiding behind the door listening in. They seemed so much happier without you. As if your mere presence ruined the mood. So you started rejecting their invitations to join and it only took one of two attempts of them to stop asking completely.

You might have been able to cope better with the obvious dismissal of your existence if it had been because you hadn’t been part of the family when they had forged their close bond, but somehow, even when Damian joined, acting like a complete asshole to everyone around him, they managed to include him and when he warmed up to them he joined their close group.

So your newness surely could not have been that big of an issue right? Even Damian, completely new to the family and surely aggressive towards all of his pseudo siblings, seemed to know you were less than the others since he didn’t even bother to insult you, instead opting to ignore you. Completely. A glance spared, looking you up and down, and he had decided you were not worth it and his opinion seemingly still hadn’t changed. Sure by now you had talked with him a few times, but you could say the same about the fucking mayor of Gotham so you were sure that did not really count.

Sometimes, you lay in your bed at night, wide awake, wondering just why you were worth so much less in their eyes. What you had done wrong. Two answers usually presented themselves before you. Either it was because you weren’t a vigilante, something that you might even have been willing to accept, or it was… you. Just you. And for some reason, that was the answer that seemed more plausible to you. Maybe you were just unpleasant to be around, not fitting enough for their family. Not interesting enough, not Wayne enough.

And so you were cursed to live your life like a ghost in what is supposed to be your home. Going in and out every day, just waiting for the day to come when you could move into the penthouse your grandparents had bought you before they died, which would become your legal property in just a few years. You’d start anew. Maybe one day, after a long time and probably a lot of therapy, you’ll be able to start your own family. One that you’d promise not to fuck up like Bruce had. Until then though, you’d go on like always, spend as little time in that Manor as possible and try to distract yourself from your reality.

You really did spend very little time at the manor. For one, no one in that house cared when you left or when you came back except maybe Alfred, but even he either knew that you could properly use the freedom or he was too busy to care. Probably a mix of both. And along with that, you had started a very active life outside of your family. You had a lot of friends, though you were not ready to call any of them close friends, always knowing about how many of them were after the publicity of your actual and current family name and the money and fame connected to it. But they were nice enough and they distracted you so you didn’t mind. Especially because you used said popularity to help the people in town. You managed to get a lot of your friends to volunteer alongside you in different homeless shelters, though a lot of them tended to post dozens of pictures which made you feel a bit icky about them trying to profit from helping others, but you knew you couldn’t complain because it did help the shelters. The shelters told you so themselves.

Most of your ‘pocket money’ was donated and the rest of the time was spent doing different activities, be it arts, sports, parties or just wasting the day away. You did your best to cram as much into your day-to-day life as you could to keep you from thinking too much. To stop you from thinking too much about how messed up you were now, how you couldn’t even confide in any of your friends, how you didn’t even really manage to call them your friends, because you couldn’t allow yourself to let anyone close to you anymore, because you knew you weren’t worth it, because you knew you’d be disappointed and hurt again.

These dark thoughts were kept inside, slowly eating at you like termites, while on the outside you kept on being the happy-go-lucky Gotham personality that people loved to follow. Though you didn’t post a lot on your own social media, your friends and people around you did, which the public loved for some reason. And so you kept up the act, because what else could you do? Let people know you’re hurting? So they could ridicule you for your rich people's problems? Or keep out of the public eye? And have to face the lonely darkness that was your life? No, you’d rather keep on pretending like you had been for years now. Even if it meant being a piece of entertainment for other people who could turn on you at any second.

The day at school was mostly uneventful, only a short moment of passing by Damian ruined your mood as your classmates did their usual shtick of asking if that wasn’t your brother and you trying to shrug them off, after all, how do you explain that your brother treated you like air not worth breathing? So you changed the topic by announcing that you’d go help out at a local shelter after school and asked if anyone wanted to join. Some excused themselves but a few agreed, which led to a group of five of you coming into the shelter a few hours later after some mandatory selfies so keep your friends placated. There was a bit more traffic inside than usual - a few people definitely not in need of help - which was probably because one of your friends posted your plans on their socials. That was something that you had to begrudgingly accept. You couldn’t afford their anger, so you made a compromise with them that they could post stuff like that, but that they couldn’t post the exact location (which in your opinion was just common sense, but it seemed not a lot of people shared that).

Ignoring the people only there to see you or be near a Wayne, you focused on helping those who needed your help, though aware of the effect you could have on the shelter business, you helped out in the kitchen where people couldn’t see you. You didn’t mind, you liked cooking and you and the fellow kitchen staff had a sort of harmonized rhythm. It even helped you get lost in thoughts that didn’t make you wanna cry, so when you got interrupted in your flow, you almost jumped in shock. One of the organizers had tapped on your shoulder.

“Y/N, there’s a man outside that wants to talk to you,” Marcus told you and nodded towards the door to the front.

“They still haven’t left? I’m really sorry Marc, if you think it’s better if I leave, then I will,” you sighed, annoyed by the turn of events.

“No, it’s not a fan. At least I think, he’s- well, he claims to have something really important to talk to you about. He gave me this to show to you, said it’ll show you he’s serious,” Marcus shrugged and held a picture out to you. It was an old Polaroid of a young couple smiling into the camera. Your breath hitched.

“Is he the guy in the picture?” you asked with a newly found seriousness.

“Yes, at least he looks like it. Is the woman-”

“Yeah, could we use the office? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

“Sure, no problem, go ahead, I’ll bring him to you in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you earnestly smiled at Marcus as you made your way to the door that led to the office. You were used to being nervous, but not quite as nervous as you were then. This could change a lot of things, everything if it was what you imagined it to be. You looked at the picture in your hand again before sitting down behind the desk and putting it down on the desk. There were steps behind the door coming closer, so you took a deep breath as you wiped your hands on your pant legs. The door opened and in came a man who looked just like the guy from the Polaroid. He seemed familiar, not just from that snapshot of the past, but something in his face rang a bell in your memories. You mustered him, trying to keep a stern exterior as you didn’t know if this was going to be what you thought it would be.

Marcus gestured the man to sit down on the other side of the desk, before giving you an encouraging nod and closing the door as he left.

“Hello,” you greeted the man, hands intertwined before you on the desk.

“Hello,” he responded alike and you could feel his curiosity burning through you. Had you misinterpreted this? Was this just another weird fan?

“This picture,” you looked at it again before sliding it towards him, “how do you know my mom?”

A/N: So, what do y'all think? Let me know in the comments or in my inbox ❤️ Also, I'd appreciate feedback on the title as well, not sure if I should change it or keep it.

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 4 months

Text

Scratch

《Stray!Au Dick Grayson / Reader》

In this Au, I picture Dick running away from Gotham Foster care before he was adopted by Bruce. Meeting Selina during one of her robberies.

The young acrobat, not wanting to be caught by security guards. Immediately hides and swings away from them without notice!

Fortunately, Selina noticed the little stray...

Now, taken under her care. Dick becomes Selina's protégé.

What of Batman?

Well... You become the next Robin.. Sort of?

"Hiya Squeeks...~" Stray says slyly, gently taking your hand like a gentleman. You eye him shyly, frowning as you look away.

"Aw... What's the matter? Upset that your Boss couldn't come with?" He mocks playfully.

You roll your eyes, turning away. Trying to take back your hand, yet he doesn't relase it.

"Did I hit a nerve Squeaks?" He asks, a bit more genuine as he approaches you.

You take advantage of that, about to land a hit on him. He dodges quickly, laughing.

"C'mon Squeaks! I was just teasing! Cats honor!" He swipes at you, causing you to stumble back.

"Teasing?" You ask meekly as he smiles.

""Teasing"... Not!" He sticks his tounge out playfully.

"Well, maybe... Depending how long I can keep you away from your pesky Boss-"

Your eyes widen, hurriedly turning away and glancing at Batman as he fights Catwoman.

You yelp when realizing the trick as you try to go over to help. But Stray tackles you down, laughing.

"Who said I was done, Mouse? A cat never leaves his prey... Until he has his full!"

"Let go! Jerk!" You whined, trying to push him away as he held you down in a embrace. Nuzzling your face a bit, playfully nipping at your exposed skin.

"No-..." His words slowly die as he raises his head. He sees a shadow cover him as he glances up at the "Big-Bad-Bat."

"Do you mind?" He scoffed at the older vigilante. Glancing back down at you with a look that read, "can you belive this guy?"

Batman glared down harshly at the two of you.

You squeal in terror at the look, immediately punching Stray in the face. Knocking him out cold. Yet...

His body collapsed on top of you.

"..." Batman turns away.

"...I'm sorry!" You wail in a hurry, trying to move the thief away. Unsure if you were apologizing to Batman or Stray...

[Ta-Da! As promised! Stray appetizer! Lol! I wanted an excuse to write about an awkward hero (y/n). Also, I don't know alot of mouse themed heros. What's up with that? Anyway, thanks for reading! This was pure fun! Prince of Poison content will be out soon!]

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squirmhoney · 1 year

Text

What He's Owed

A/N: This blog just became multi-fandom. This is dark so please proceed with caution. I’ve given this a once over so there might still be some grammatical mistakes. Warnings: Dark! Dick Grayson. Non con. Dub Con. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Word count: 3.1k+

Part two here

"Dick," you droned, rolling your eyes.

Dick had his head pressed between your thighs, face flush against your crotch inappropriately. He rubbed his face around, sighing as he buried himself against you.

"Stop," you told him, pushing against his head. "We've talked about this." Your hands were no use against him, your pathetic strength working against pure muscle.

"I need some affection," Dick groaned, moving from between your thighs to hover over you. "I almost died the other night-"

"You die almost every night," you huffed, looking away from him. "It's your job."

"Don't you worry about me?" He questioned, raising his eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes again which only made Dick more needy as he collapsed on top of you.

"You should worry about me all the time." Dick nestled his face into the crook of your neck, lips grazing your skin.

"I do." Your hands tried to push him away again, only to be caught by his as he pinned them above you.

At one point his strength used to make you feel protected, knowing that as long as you were around him that you'd be safe. When you moved into the manor, you desperately craved that reassurance and Dick was always waiting to give it you.

But now as he had your body pinned beneath him with ease, his strength scared you. How easily he could use that strength to over power you, to mould you in anyway he wanted, the way you clearly knew he wanted. You could feel how hard he was as he pressed against your crotch and it hadn't been the first time he had made you aware of his desires towards you.

He made it very clear every day.

-No, every moment.

Whether that was rubbing up on your ass as you tried to cook in the kitchen, practically trying to fuck you through any clothes you were wearing. Or when he'd try and get you to wrestle him, just so he could shove you up against a wall, pressing his body flush against yours. Each time you'd be telling him to stop, trying to force him away but failing massively.

"Dick, stop please," you pleaded, hoping he'd just get off at you.

He shifted, rubbing his hard on against you in a way that made you bite your bottom lip. "Let me just fool around a bit."

"I said no-"

"Dick," Jason's voice shouted, footsteps drawing closer to your room. The door was already open, letting Jason walk right in.

"What?" Dick snapped, glaring at Jason.

Jason's jaw clenched at the sight of you two, clearly seeing how defenceless you were underneath him. "You're wanted downstairs."

"Fuck." Dick became tense, adjusting himself in his joggers as he got up. The frustration was radiating off of him and you knew you couldn't escape from him forever.

Once Dick was out of sight, Jason gave you a once over. Your face flushed and your eyes brimmed with tears, he could clearly tell that something was off.

"What?" You asked, voice coming out rougher than you had meant for it.

"If somethings going on, you can tell me," Jason's voice was soft laced with concern as he stood by the door.

"Nothing is going on," you tried to reassure him, sniffling to get rid of the tears. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled. "You know Dick."

"There is Dick and then there's Dick with you," Jason replied, not wanting to drop the subject. "And I worry that Dick is pushing you into something you're not comfortable with."

"I'm fine, honestly," you told him, getting up from the bed. You walked over to him, pressing a hand on the door. "I'll be fine but right now I have to get ready for tonight."

You could tell Jason didn't want to stop talking, the ever caring one towards you. But he also never wanted to push you, so he left with a, "Of course."

With the door closed, you took a steady breath trying to block out the feeling of your stomach churning.

The thing that you hated most was you blamed yourself for the way Dick felt about you. If you hadn't clung to him for years, hadn't been so desperate for his protection, he wouldn't still be clinging to you trying to give you it.

You looked at him like a sibling but Dick saw you as anything but.

"So, what do you think?"

You twirled around, lips widening into a bright smile. The black dress draped over you, sheer from below your breasts to your toes, hugging your figure. If it weren't for the black underwear you were wearing, everything would be on show.

"You like it?" You asked, raising your eyebrow teasingly.

Dick's jaw clenched as he took you in with hungry eyes because it wasn't him you were looking at with that beautiful smile, it was Jason.

"You look great," Jason huffed, laughing at you. He put his arm out for you to take. "Can we go now?"

Dick was quick to step in the way, taking your hand in his as he pulled you towards the door. "Let's go."

The car journey was long especially with the heavy arm around your shoulder holding you firmly in place.

All the others chatted, barely noticing your situation as they got excited for the Gala. But how could you be excited when Dick was acting like this?

"Don't stray far from me tonight," Dick whispered, lips brushing your ear. He chuckled as you shivered, taking pleasure in the way you cowered from him. "I need you close. Who knows what could happen?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine," you replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "It's just a charity event."

"If you're closer to me, I can protect you," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your face. "I just want to protect you."

His gaze softened on you, tugging at your heart strings as you said, "I know, Dick."

"You look amazing tonight," Dick gleamed, face an inch from yours. His breath fanned against your face and you gulped, having no where to back away. "Fucking, beautiful."

"Dick-" you were cut off by his lips on top of yours, smothering you in a kiss.

The car had stopped, Dick's lips leaving yours as he gently pressed his forehead against yours.

"Come on love birds," Tim mocked, stepping out of the car.

"We're coming," Dick told him, smirking at you before exiting the car.

When you stepped out, Dick's hand was waiting for you to take it and you did, not wanting to make a scene in front of so many people. That's how you stayed all night, a quiet girl holding onto Dick's arm as he paraded around the room. He used to call you his little mouse, so quiet and fragile when you entered the manor.

"She isn't feeling well. We're going to head back now."

You must of been out of it, finally tuning into the conversation once you heard that.

"Really?" Jason asked, taking you in.

"Really," Dick stated, stepping closer to Jason.

"I think she can answer for herself," Jason said, looking down at you. "Y/N?"

"What?" You were baffled not sure what had been said.

"You don't have to go with him. You can stay here," Jason told you, eyes pleading with you to listen to him.

"She isn't feeling well," Dick snapped back, pushing his chest up against Jason. "She wants to go home."

They were getting in each others faces, drawing attention to the themselves.

Your hand pushed in between them and you pulled Dick away as you smiled at Jason. "I'm just feeling restless. These events take it out of me, you know."

"You don't have to go." Jason was trying as hard as he could but you knew what you were going to pick at the end of the day.

"Have a good rest of your night," you smiled, rubbing his cheek softly before walking away.

Dick practically dragged you out of the party, quick to get you in the car and back to the manor. He was cold in the car ride back, eyes focusing on anywhere but you.

"Dick," you called out, hand brushing his thigh as you tried to grab his attention. "Talk to me."

He couldn't look at you even the slightest thought of you was sending his body into over drive. His cock was straining in his trousers, making it hard to think about anything over than what he was planning to do with you once you got through those doors.

"You're freaking me out," your voice came out shaky, hand resting against his chest.

That same hand was used to yank you out of the car once you pulled up to the manor, taking you in. His grip was harsh, almost bruising, and his pace was so quick it had you tripping on the steps, grazing your knee in the process.

"Dick," you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip. "Would you stop?"

But when you gazed up at him, there was none of the Dick that you knew there. His dark eyes were blown out, staring at you if you were his pray and he was your predator.

He threw you up over his shoulder, carrying you into the manor with you hitting at his back to no avail.

"Dick, put me down," you squealed, trying to wriggle from his grip. "Put me down."

When he finally put you down, it was to throw you onto a bed, his bed.

You drew your legs up to your chest, crawling to the back of the bed to get away from him.

"You want this," Dick stated, undoing the buttons of his suit. He was peeling away at his suit, rushing to get it off. "You could have stayed at that gala with Jason. But you came here with me. You know you want this."

"I just didn't want you to fight," your words came out choked, fear creeping into your bones at how he towered over you. "Or make a scene. I-I-"

"I-I-uh," he mocked you, tearing his shirt from his body. Buttons popped off, flying around the room as he ripped the material off his body, revealing the pure muscle underneath. "You want me to protect you, to look after you. I've done that, haven't I?"

"Yes," you gulped, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "But I don't want this."

"You've played with me for too long." Dick unbuckled his belt, the sound of it dropping to the floor making you flinch. "And I think it's time I get what I'm owed."

"Dick, please." You were frozen on the bed, knowing that there would be no point in fighting back. Tears stained your puffy cheeks as you wiped them away furiously, cowering by the pillows.

His lips attached to yours within a second, hand gripping the back of your hair as he drew you closer. You didn't fight against it but you didn't reciprocate either, sitting like a statue as you let his lips mould into yours.

You gasped when he yanked your head back, tugging on your hair as he made you look at him. There was an anger to him, teeth grinding against each other as he spoke, "You're fine. Stop crying and enjoy this. Otherwise it will get worse for you."

Did he just threaten you? Dick had never threatened you before.

When his lips crashed against yours again, you kissed back, even opening your mouth to allow his tongue to invade it. You couldn't even deny how soft his lips were against yours. How the kiss felt like the perfect mixture between rough and gentle. How your stomach stirred when he pressed against you even if you didn't want it too.

"Fuck," he murmured breathlessly, lips trailing down your neck. His hands were grabbing against your sides, gripping your hips harshly as he pulled you closer. You didn't even know why you did it but your legs opened willingly for him allowing him more space to get closer to you. "Good girl, learning quickly aren't you?"

His hands ripped your clothes off, your dress hanging off your body in tattered pieces once his hands were done with it. Then his lips were on you again, nibbling and licking at the skin of your breasts as he marked his territory.

"You're so beautiful." Dick gazed down, admiring the work that he had just begun creating. One of his hands shifted from your hips, slipping in the waistband of your underwear.

You couldn't help your reaction, instantly retracting from him at the feel of his fingers on your skin there. You could feel yourself forcing down a sob as it started to sink in what was actually about to happen.

"It's okay, baby," he purred at you, chuckling at your broken expression as his fingers slid into your panties. His fingers forced their way in, making you gasp as his fingers pressed against your folds. "You're soaked."

The way he smirked at you as if he had won some sort of game between you.

All you wanted was to slap that smile off his face, fight against him and the way your panties were clinging to your pussy from all the juices there. His fingers yanked the material down before pushing his fingers inside you in one thrust.

"That hurts," you hissed, grabbing his wrist hoping to push him back.

"I need to open you up a bit." Dick's voice lowered, licking his lips as he stared between your legs. His thumb came up as he dragged it over your clit, circling it. "Can't just go in straight away. Not when you're a virgin."

Your eyes looked up, widening at him. No one knew that you were a virgin so how did he know.

"I couldn't hurt you like that."

Didn't he already know how he was hurting you?

His fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot you had never felt before and the moan that escaped your lips had him grinning ear to ear. He repeated the motion, hoping to get you to make the sound again. But you bit on your bottom lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He pulled his fingers out of you and the growing tension in your stomach stopped suddenly.

"You're making this more difficult than it needs to be," Dick huffed, growing angrier at your reluctance. "I'm tired of waiting."

With one move you were pulled down to your back, Dick kneeling between your legs as he pushed the material of his boxers down. His cock sprung against his stomach, thick and longer than you could imagine. The tip leaked with pre cum, painting his abs as it stated at you angry and red.

This was really happening.

"We can stop this," you pleaded with Dick, trying to pull yourself up from the bed. His body hovered over yours, caging you in. "I won't tell anyone what happened and we can just pretend-"

"This is going to hurt."

The words were followed with a hand pressed against your mouth and you didn't realise why until he slammed his cock in. Even through his hand your scream couldn't be muffled, feeling the sharpest pain as your virgin walls were forced apart by him.

"It will feel better in a second. Trust me."

He rested his head against yours, lips brushing the back of his own hand as he finally started to move. You could tell he was holding back, softly rocking his hips back and forth so your walls would accommodate his size. He grinded his teeth against one another, jaw tensing as he kept himself in control.

"You feel so good."

You couldn't even deny it as your eyes rolled back and you sighed into his hand, you were feeling the pleasure taking over. Your walls were accepting him, his cock massaging your walls and keeping you full as pushed himself in and out. He knew you were starting to enjoy it, moving his hand to the side so he could finally hear the uneven breaths fall from your lips.

Dick couldn't help but watch you as you crumbled apart underneath him. His hand cupped the side of your face, caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb. His pants matching your sighs as you became lost in him.

"I've got you," he reassured you, pushing your hair out of your face. "I'll make you feel so good."

He didn't lie.

His hips rolled up into yours, hitting you at a new angle that made you moan for him. You could tell he was proud of himself as he smiled proudly, teeth winking at you. "You like that, baby?"

"Dick," you whimpered, unable to control yourself as your walls clenched around him. Your hands grabbed onto his arms, nails digging in to ground yourself as his pace got fast. "N-No." your words became lost as his thrusts picked up, hips slapping against yours in a brutal pace.

"I wish you could see yourself," Dick groaned, pressing kisses to your face. "Making such a mess in my bed."

You couldn't help but cling to him as you felt his cock slam into you repeatedly, pushing you over the edge finally. The noises that you made were foreign to your ears, loud and lewd as your walls squeezed him for dear life. It was intense and you were so dazed you couldn't even form a coherent sentence.

All you could think about was him, your Dick.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum."

The words hit your ears but they didn't sink in until...

"I can't wait to paint your pretty pussy."

You wanted to scream at him not to but his lips were already smashed against yours, stoping you from saying anything.

He was throbbing inside you and as much as you despised it, your hips were lifting to meet his. It wasn't long before he was spilling inside of you, moaning into your lips at the feeling. You were sobbing at the last few thrusts, a complete wreck underneath him at the way he was making you feel.

"Dick I-" you words were strangled in your throat as you gazed up at him, feeling conflicted by the look in his eyes.

"Hmm," he hummed, rubbing his nose against yours. That dark look had faded from his eyes and now he stared at you with pure adoration, stirring your stomach in ways that it had never felt before.

"Nothing," you whispered, shaking your head.

"Whatever you say angel," he breathed in your ear, nuzzling himself in your neck as he kept himself buried inside you.

#yandere dick grayson #yandere dick Grayson x reader #yandere nightwing #yandere nightwing x reader #dick Grayson x reader #dick grayson smut

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knullanon · 1 year

Note

How would yanderes Batboys (Romantic and separate) react to someone kissing reader's hand? I'd love to see this go down

I think ya'll really like the batfam stuff I write lol. anyways, here it is!

warnings: possesiveness, lmk if I missed any!

~~~

Dick Grayson/Nightwing

It happened at a gala. He had brought you with him because he liked having you around, especially to show off to others. But what he wasn't expecting was someone to actually kiss your hand.

His mind goes blank for a moment, but his anger returns once he's out of his trance. He doesn't do much, just walks up to you and drags you away, briefly giving the guy the best death glare he can muster. Afterward, he sits at the table and waits for the guy to leave before he gets back up again.

He's pretty pissed. He stays by you for the rest of the gala, and it doesn't leave his mind for a few days, but after a while he semi forgets about it. However, any time you both go to a gala or something similar, he is very protective and hovers close by, glued to your side.

Jason Todd/Red Hood

This was his first gala after he came back to the family. He was originally not going to go, but Bruce somehow convinced you to go, and you were too adorable eto say no to, which is how he ended up here, watching as some asshat try to woo you over.

He doesn't get too physical, but he does step in between you and the guy, asking him if he needed somehting. The man backs off because Jason is 6' and huge in comparison, and he really doesn't want to start a fight with a man who could sock him within 2 seconds.

Jason just becomes very grumpy after this. His mood, night and time at the gala is ruined, and no matter what you do, he won't stop mumbling. However, after the gala, he does become more happy, and by the end of the night, after trying to cheer him up, he eventually stops and tries to become more happier. He is glad, though, that he doesn't see the little shrimp anymore.

Tim Drake/Red Robin

Again, also probably happened at a gala. If not, I would guess a party at the Wayne Manor. He jus tbrings oyu around because he worries about what you'll do when your alone, but seeing someone kiss your hand makes him regret even bringing you.

He doesn't have any shock time, he just walks up, takes your hand, and walks away. He won't let you say any bye's either, he's gonna walk out and go home with you. Ends up with you two cuddling in his fancy apartment.

Afterward, he wouldn't even bring you to anymore galas. Partys, yeah he probably still would just because it's his home, he knows what's going down, and he almost always knows where you are at all times. But galas? He won't even think about it, he might even make you sick or try to convince your mind otherwise so he won't have to bring you. Of course, if it does come to that he'll stay right by your side.

Damian Wayne/Robin (aged up obvi)

It was his 21st birthday. Bruce had hosted a party at the Manor ("Damian, please." "Fine."), and had invited most of their super friends, however, he had also invited some different important people from his buisness. Unfortunatly, one of those people was more old fashioned than the rest, and had kissed your hand as a sign of respect.

Damian did not like that. He did not like that all. None of them caused much of a commontion about it, but for Damian, he had the guest be kicked out. Unpromptly. When someone asked him about it, he said he had made lewd remarks and gesteres towards different people, which later on, ruined the mans reputation.

Damian does not play with people who touch you. Even if its just platonically, or respectfully. He starts asking you to be more firm with your boundries, and while you take it in a "aw, my boyfriend is so caring", he's in the mindset of "if anyone touches them again, I have to kill them".

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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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