#*batman voice from upstairs*

[visionsofmagic]

day 10: bruce wayne [car sex]

࿓ synopsis • bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.

―❦ nsfw, autonomous driving, one has clothes on one hasn’t, suited!bats, batmobile, markings, car riding, possessiveness, jeaolusy, pet names, swearing, master kink, rude!bats, identity dilemma, inner toughts, spanking, begging, brat taming, clothes full on/off, kissing, ‘is all I guess. • 1.9k • thought comic bats while writing but you can imagine this with any version of batman as you like of course. enjoy the beginning of the second week of kinktober event, hope you will like this week too! [kinktober m.]

“bats – please –“ as the gotham’s city’s night lights pass behind the black windows of the batmobile you’re in, your own voice gets silent by the loud sound of the road, yet, they reach to his ears that are covered with his black batman mask. “it’s too much –“ 

the man under you stays still even when his actions don’t stop – fingering your clit, he seems like he doesn’t care about how you’re sitting on his lap, soaking onto his black bat suit, getting wetter each passing time – having no dress on you makes the situation more sinful, especially when he has his own armored suit on, even the mask is still covering his face and ears – his bat ears is a source of balance for you to hold onto while taking his fingers as if it’s the first time he does this.

you have no idea how this man makes you feel stranger to being fucked by him whenever he has you like this – weak yet so powerful because of the whole situation.

it should’ve been a peaceful night, a simple mission – yet, it turned into something more, and you were the one to blame the moment you began to flirt with one of the guests to distract him. you were doing what he told you to from the other line of the call, giving instructions one by one with the help of the device on your ear. it was going all right until the man got interested in you, buying you drinks, joking around, and asking if you would like to follow him to do upstairs. 

you didn’t yet you had to act close to the man to get rid of him because bats told you to leave his side immediately. your mistake was taking that decision; putting one of your hands on the man’s shoulder, raising on your feet, and whispering something into his ear before leaving. apparently, this made bruce go mad – causing him to give you a lesson that you had to learn right away.

the moment you entered the batmobile, he took you onto his lap, taking all your clothes from one to another, looking darker than ever – hands fast, lips kissing yours so passionately that you believe your lips begin to bleed, the suit remains on as he begins to finger you – he just opens the zipper of his armored pants, leaving his hardened cock visible to your eyes.

wanting to touch him, your hand goes to his cock, yet, it is stopped in mid-air. he doesn’t waste any more seconds, slapping your clit, he adds, “you had to earn it. you will not get it until you beg for it.”

now here you are; already cum for one time, its hints still on your thighs and his pants, however, he doesn’t stop – you know he waits for you to beg – you try not to beg, stubborn, believing you did nothing wrong, but, it’s too much – he knows every point to make you beg – the vigilante know your own body more than you do.

when he hits your g-spot with only his gloved fingers, again and again, you cry out loud, “bruuuce – aggh – please -!” the words go out of your parted lips on their own as your hands grip his bat ears strongly, bouncing on his fingers when he doesn’t move them. the knowledge of making a mess out of you doesn’t reach into your brain, so, you continue fucking his fingers – his dark-colored eyes look up, a smirk position on his attractive masked face, mocking you. “please! I need youu – aggh!”

“pathetic,” he remarks, “bouncing on my fingers as if they’re my dick,” a chuckle breaks the lewd sounds – the outworld out of the batmobile is long forgotten. “want it so much? want me to bend you over, fuck you in this car?”

without thinking, you nod rapidly, eyes half-closed, your second cum drips onto his fingers, high hits the body, feeling a bit exhausted yet ready to take his thick cock now. 

your mind can’t comprehend what he’s doing but in a moment you find him lowering his seat, opening enough gap between your bodies and the batmobile’s front. 

afraid of falling into the surface, you try to hold his shoulders – still can’t believe you fucked yourself on his fingers and cum onto them when he talked dirty. the power – the effect he has on you is incredible! the mind is so dizzy because of him that you realize what he has done after a moment, your widening eyes look at the front mirrors of the car, seeing the road in front of you – the scene changes faster than you think – you swear the car moves like a lightning. 

the reality hits your face similar to the feeling of cold water washing your body over on a hot day. however, you can’t focus on it when bruce’s gloved and wet hands position on your waist, highering your ass up, pulling your body closer to his face.

when you hold onto the wheel to stay still, excitement and shock blurring the last cramps of your mind, fear of going in an extremely fast batmobile makes your blood boil – yet the trust you have for bruce is there, strongly holding you. his low voice reaches your ears after a while, and his hot breaths wash your pussy and ass holes that clench around nothing, making you jump in pure pleasure. “you disappointed me,” he says, “you disobeyed a direct order from me. that man meant nothin’ to me but disobeying – oh – what a bad choice y/n.”

you couldn’t wait any longer, knowing his one step away from licking you, lust takes control of you, and you begin to say how sorry you’re – how you didn’t mean to – both you and bruce know you did mean to, to get his attention, to get this side of him, because you’re a brat of him who he will tame.

“keep your begs for forgiveness for later. you have to prove to me that you’re capable of obeying me, you pretty brat.”

“anything, I will do anything for you bru -!” a slap to the ass, a slap to the pussy – scream escapes from your lips. “bats! just give me an order, will do it – just please – please fuck me already!”

“in that case,” he says, not licking you, making you pout in disappointment but when he lowers down your body, his cock’s tip meets with your aching pussy’s folds, he clicks a button, the engine slows down a little bit, the wheel of the car gets closer to you. “hold the wheel.”

you try to understand what’s going on, “what are you doin – aggh!”

his left-hand grips your neck, holding it tightly, closing the gap between your face and his, he points to the wheel that stands right in front of you. “hold the fucking wheel if you want to be fucked, y/n.”

swearing lowly, your shaking hand finds the wheel, holding it strongly, waiting for bruce to push a button – when he does, the engine starts moving faster than before. unlike the previous situation, this time, it’s you who drives the batmobile.

“bruce – how – “ your words are cut off by his deep voice.

“don’t take your eyes off the road. you will take us to the home without an accident. if you turn even a little bit, I will stop fucking you my love.” the difference in his words and voice make you go crazy, and that craziness doubles up when he lowers your body down enough to make him thrust his thick cock into your pussy, filling you up.

screaming with sudden pain and pleasure, your eyes roll over for a second before looking right at the road in front of you – gotham city still stays under the darkness of the night, the only voice that world excepts is the powerful sound of the batmobile riding on the endless looking road, the moans coming from you and swears from bats mixing with the flesh hitting the flesh can be heard by only you and bruce – the sin you commit cannot be known by another.

the focus you put on the road gets distracted whenever bruce shoves his dick into your wet clit. back of your thighs hitting his clothed thighs sends pain through your body, leaving red marks on your flesh – the balls that meet with your ass cheeks increase the sensitivity you have, making you cry as you clean them rapidly to see the road.

his name comes out of you over and over again, the brain is too occupied to drive, the mind is too crazy to function, and the body is too full of him, the man who wants to devour you, and doing it right now – using your body as he pleases, not moving his hips greatly, instead, he makes use of your body by lifting it up, then, pulling it down until his dick fills your walls deeper, harder and rougher.

“fucking brat,” he says, a poison that his voice holds captures you – you feel so pathetic as if you’re his fucktoy now. then why do you feel so high like the most powerful drug in the whole world gets into your veins with the maximum level, you ask yourself, then the answer travels to your mind after he adds, “can’t obey her master? what a pretty yet mindless girl you are, don’t you think?” oh, right, he’s the most powerful drug on the whole world, and now, you’re at his mercy.

“u-huh – agghh – oh myy – bats! please, please, please –“ you have no idea what you’re pleasing for, but he knows – he chuckles lowly, having fuck great entertainment thanks to you that you feel a kind of pride in an instant.

“u-huh?” he mocks, fucks you still, close to the edge, just waiting for the right moment. “too cockdumbed to even understand what I’m saying. but you do good my good girl, keep going, we’re close to the cave.”

the new information makes you happy, smiling widely, and looking outside clearly, seeing the cave’s entering. with the relief, you begin to drive the car more carefully than before, hands getting stronger, losing yourself in the pleasure of being fucked by bruce in his damn batmobile.

finally reaching your destination, you slow down the engine, the cave’s front door opens, and pushing a button, bruce hugs you from behind, making you sit down on his cock with an instantaneous speed, earning the loudest moan out of you.

the mouth standing beside your ear says, “cum. cum on my cock.” and you who doesn’t know she’s waiting for him to allow her – to order, do what he tells, cum on his cock as his hot semen hit the deep inside of you in sync.

kissing your shoulder, he holds your shaking body because of both the coldness of the cave you have entered and the opposite sense of warmness that bruce gives – the smell of highness on the air, chests getting up and down, breaths rapid and low, lust ends – its place gets completed with the affection of love.

“did so good,” the car’s door opens, bruce takes your body in bridal style after wrapping it with his cape. his gentle lips put kisses on your face as he walks into the bathroom of his room, watching your soft features, eyes closed to sleep. he smiles fondly, proud of you. “let me take care of my pretty girl now.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *lots of kisses!*

[batsycline69]

Full

Summary: You find out Bruce keeps closer track of your menstrual cycle than you thought. You also find out why.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Words: 4.8k

Content/warnings: description of scars, baby fever, established relationship, thigh riding, strength kink if you squint, mentions of having children/getting pregnant, breeding kink, p in v sex

“Are you kidding me?”

The sounds of wings rustle above head as your voice carries through the Batcave. Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you glare at Bruce. On the monitor of the bat computer, over a year’s worth of your menstrual cycle is displayed, carefully cataloged by your husband.

When Bruce came back from patrol, you gave him some time to clean up, hoping to pull him away from work. You’d mentioned seeing the cutest baby while you were out for coffee this morning, to which he replied, “is this because you’re ovulating?” To which you replied, “excuse me?”

Bruce took only a few seconds to pull up his records; little black boxes around the days you’ve had foul moods all courtesy of your luteal phase, little red boxes around your period weeks. He has little ciphers on certain days, and you suspect he’s logged the days you’ve had sex.

His expression hasn’t changed a bit despite your reaction. He’s still just as serious and unreadable as ever.

“We have sex. It’s smart to track.”

“It’s invasive! You could have at least told me you were doing this.”

“Do you keep track?” he asks pointedly.

You scowl at him. “What does that have to do with this?”

“How soon would you know if you missed a period?” He sounds smug without changing his tone; it’s one of his many astounding abilities. You hate that he’s made a good point, even if it doesn’t fully justify his prying. Then again, you were fully aware of Bruce’s endeavors as Batman when you got married. Prying came with the territory.

“I don’t know. A week or two. It’s not always that exact. But it’s not like I wouldn’t notice.” You bristle at the minuscule movement of Bruce’s eyebrow as it quirks up. To think you’d come down here to fuck him. “Point being, I don’t need you to keep track of my body. I’m perfectly capable.”

He stands up from his chair, taking a step towards you. Silence. You hate how well Bruce does silence, hate the way he weaponizes it against you. But you’re not backing down. Not until he expresses some sort of awareness that he went too far.

The look in his eyes tells you not to hold your breath. He still looks just as serious as ever, yet a slight change of the glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s arriving at his point. He steps within arms’ reach. You have a feeling leaving just enough space is part of his plan. He’s upping the anticipation. But he’s going to have to try harder than that.

“If I came in you tonight, you could end up carrying my baby.” His voice rumbles in his chest, eyes unwavering.

Fuck.

You feel your face get hot, still trying to keep your composure. He wants a reaction—manipulative asshole—but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s not going to change the subject just like that.

“Thanks, Batman, but I know how ovulation works,” you snap, turning over your shoulder. You’re not making any progress, and even if Bruce’s proposal has you feeling that familiar ache inside of you again, you can’t let him win now. You only stop when he catches your arm with his sturdy hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. You’ve never been out with him while he’s doing his Batman business—that’s his world, not yours—but you imagine this is how he treats his prey when he knows they don’t stand a chance. A cocky air without being showy. He doesn’t need to prove he could take you down in an instant; you already know it’s true.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Back upstairs.”

“I thought you came down here for something,” he replies, voice smooth. He tugs you so you’re at his side. He’s not gentle about it, but the movement is controlled.

“Yeah, well that was before I found out about your little project.”

His hand slides down your arm before running up your shirt, stopping at your waist. You shiver from the cold cave air that brushes your skin. “It’s practical,” Bruce says.

“Practical.” You scoff.

But then again, Alfred does always make your favorite cookies around the time the boxes are shaded in gray. There are also those days when Bruce is a little more willing to follow you when you entice him out of the cave.

Even if you weren’t expecting this turn of events, the more you mull it over, the more it begins to click. Dick’s been out west for months now, leaving Wayne Manor feeling emptier than ever. Bruce has been burying himself in work to make up for the loss, not that he’s admitted that to you. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself.

You narrow your eyes a little more at him. “Is this a thing for you or something?”

He smirks. You hate it when he smirks like that. Except you don’t, not really, because he looks so good when hes smug. That’s the worst part. As you stare back at him, unwavering, you curse his stupidly handsome face. A guy that gets beat up every night shouldn’t look that good. It’s just not fair.

“What if it is?” he asks, pompous attitude lingering.

His voice is low, using his ability to have all the control in a conversation all while hardly speaking above a whisper. He knows he has your attention. Knows his words are having an effect on you. Warmth pools back into your core, familiar ache between your legs. You remember why you came down here to begin with. His gaze is bright. Hungry. Fixed on you.

God, are you and Bruce going to have to talk about kids? It’s not like you’ve never noticed the way his eyes soften whenever there’s a baby around. He loves kids. But he doesn’t have a night life conducive to having a child.

But he’s keeping track of your cycle, so I guess how surprised can you be, really? Alfred’s cookies are a nice perk, but he’s three steps ahead of you. He’s thinking about the future like always. And apparently that future has babies.

“Then...that’s a conversation we could have,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“Some other time,” Bruce murmurs, his breath brushing against your lips. In other words, hes already thought about it and has a plan.

He wraps his arm around your waist beneath your shirt, drawing you close. His chest presses up against your crossed arms, unconcerned with your attitude towards him. He isn’t actually smirking, but his eyes give it away, which means he wants them to give it away.

Water rushes from the falls across the cave, dropping down to the pool of water at the bottom. The air is cool and smells like wet rock. Your familiarity of the space hasn’t made it any less dark or cold, but the foreboding nature had dwindled. You grew to associate it with a young boy’s laughter, listening to it mature over time. You think of how many nights you’ve sat up, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for Bruce to come back home among the stalactites. You think of messy arguments and fights and of family.

The glow of Bruce’s monitor lights up only half his face. He looks tired, though you couldn’t be able to say so without him shutting down the conversation entirely. But the exhaustion he won’t admit to doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably picturing you with his cock buried all the way inside you.

He doesn’t say a word as his head dips to meet your lips softly. His hands, calloused by the years of his mission, hold you like an ever-present reminder of why he does what he does. His touch is reverent, large hands splayed out across your sides.

Despite the hunger in his gaze, he takes his time with you. Lips capturing yours with expert precision, as he approaches all things. It isn’t long before Bruce whisks you off to the bedroom. Expensive, luxurious cotton surrounds you, contrasting with Bruce’s rough hands as they run up the length of your bare skin. His lips trail the length of your neck, hands devouring the surfaces of your curves. It’s not often you manage to capture his attention so completely, but god, do you revel in it when you do.

Like so much about him, Bruce’s undivided attention is intense. He’s told you once you tether him to the light; he’s bound to you because without you, he’d be lost. You’re used the dramatics. As much as you could tease him for that, you never did because he believes it. He thinks, on some level, you’ve saved him just as much as Dick has. You’ve never seen yourself as something so extraordinary, but when Bruce puts aside the masks, you become something else entirely new in your own eyes.

It’s late now, and your body squirms against Bruce. He’s taking his time with you, depriving you both of what you’re after now. His lips pay service to their admiration of you, tasting every inch of your skin. Bruce is firm with his movements. He’s controlled, but gentle. You wanted him up here, and he wants to prove to you he’s here.

“Bruce…” you whine, his kisses peppering over your chest, stomach. He shifts down to the waistband of your sleep shorts, the only thing that remains on your body. Thin cotton is now all that prevents Bruce from full access to you.

He pays you no mind, focused on the task at hand, regardless of whether it’s what you want of him. You asked for this. You asked for him. “Don’t be too eager,” he mutters, voice muffled against you.

Cocky bastard. Don’t be too eager comes out easy when he’s the one drawing things out. You’re sure that’s his plan, too. He wants to see how far he can take this, how long he can make you wait before you’re fully coming undone beneath his fingertips. It’s one of his favorite games.

You think of Bruce’s words in the cave, wondering what the sounds of little laughter would sound like echoing in these vast halls. Wondering how far a baby’s cry would be heard.

Bruce senses your mind beginning to wander. You’re not sure how, but you’ve learned better than to question these sorts of things. He has his ways, has his years of training, has his ever-focused mind. His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly.

Your hand rakes through his thick dark hair, tangling into the curls. He showered after patrol. His hair is free of its usual product to keep it slicked back. He looks more undone than most in Gotham would be accustomed to, but this is your favorite way to see Bruce. Wild. Less burdened by the masks he wears. He’s not trying to be Bruce Wayne, nor is he trying to be Batman.

He’s in nothing but his sweatpants, the outline of his hard-on clear in the faint moonlight.

“You can’t put a baby inside me from out there,” you say, your voice needy. You already know your half-baked attempt at getting what you want isn’t going to work, but you can try.

You do get a reaction out of him, but it’s far from what you’d hoped. The weight of the bed shifts as Bruce sits up onto his elbow. His steely eyes fall to your lusty expression from beneath his heavy brows. Your eyes are glossed over with the weight of your want. “I’m the one doing the teasing here,” he says sternly, his Batman side showing a little more. But you can tell you’ve definitely struck something.

“I’m not teasing,” you whine.

A possessiveness intensity grows on Bruce’s face. You’ve spoken the magic words, and there’s something feral within him that crawls up to the surface. It’s a side of him you’re perfectly aware exists, but not one you often see first hand. This is Batman; this is the predator that stalks to get what he’s after.

You gasp as you’re pinned down before you even blink. Bruce has your wrists above your head. His hips cage you in, bulge pressing where you want him most. But he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips, try to give yourself more of what you seek, but you’re stuck beneath Bruce’s weight, his erection pressing up against you with little you can do.

He smirks down at you, and if he hadn’t gotten you so worked up, you’d be able to think about how insufferable he really is. But right now, you’re too wound up, hips just barely grinding against him in search of friction that just isn’t enough.

Bruce’s lips brush up against your neck. Shivers run down your spine. His teeth bite down, not quite hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to show he’s not messing around. Hard enough for your breath to hitch, your hips bucking up to meet him to no avail. You’re not moving unless he wants you to.

“Bruce…” you pout.

“Be patient. I’ll take care of you.” His muttered assurances do little to ease the aching inside you, however. The soft grumble into your ear only makes it worse. The sound of his voice after a long patrol, body fighting sleep he’s been putting off for far too long. But he won’t let that stop him; you’ve called for him, and he’s here in your time of need.

He nibbles on your jaw as his hand slides up, calloused fingertips softly circling your sensitive nipple. You let out a needy whimper, mind dizzy with desire and deprivation. Your fingers curl into the sheets, back arching for more contact.

“We would make a beautiful baby,” he mutters. Your eyes are closed, brows pressed up, but you can hear lingering amusement in his voice. Your body lurches with longing, its biological drive being stroked by Bruce’s words. “I’d fill this manor with our children if it meant getting to see your face in all of them.”

Your husband isn’t one to mince words, but when he wants to pull out the stops, you fall victim to him just as much as anyone else he’s ever charmed. You hate to admit it, but he knows just the right words to turn you to putty.

Bruce’s fingers finally dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, softly trailing down to run over the seam of your pussy.

Your breath hitches. Even the softest brush causes your hips to jerk, and this time, Bruce obliges.

His fingers dip between your folds, collecting your slick to trace agonizingly slow circles around your clit. Your eyes are closed, but you know he’s studying you, cataloging every minor movement of your expression, looking for all the best spots. These are the skills that’s earned him his playboy reputation in Gotham. The people who give rave reviews about fucking Bruce Wayne aren’t lying.

But Bruce so often sees his body as only a tool. A means to fight crime or gain information. A body may be a tool for creating children, but this is more than just that. Bruce uses his skills, longing to make something good of them. Desperate for more than blood on his hands, more than violence and fear.

It’s not long until he has you at the precipice of your climax. One of many, if this encounter is to be like any of your others. When your moans get needier, louder, indicating you’re close to your tipping point, Bruce stops. His fingers pull away, tracing up your stomach, splaying out over the skin. He’s perfectly aware of how badly you need this; that’s exactly why he’s putting it off.

“I told you to be patient,” he warns. He’s not going to rush through this. He plans to take his time with you. He pushes himself up, and from this new angle, you see the bulge in his sweatpants, half-hard cock pressed up enough to see a very clear outline.

Longing pools in the pit of your stomach, eyes skimming the scarred surface of his skin. Scar tissue puckers, each one even lighter than the rest of Bruce’s sun-deprived complexion. Deep bruises scatter across his body, some faint and green, fading away to nothingness, while others are dark; blue and purple, splotchy and angry.

He pulls down the sweatpants. His cock springs out, illuminated beautifully by the moonlight pouring through his window. You watch the muscles on his perfectly sculpted ass move as he tosses the sweatpants to the floor. He looks like a warrior carved out of marble, even in the darkness of his bedroom. The thick muscles tense as he moves.

You spread your legs, eagerly awaiting for him to slot himself inside, but he doesn’t. His thick fingers wrap around his length, grasping tight, slowly stroking himself. A soft grunt comes from the back of his throat, and you sigh just from hearing it. He slips a thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, a breathy groan following after as you begin to follow Bruce’s wordless command.

Your hips grind against the muscles of his thigh, watching as he works himself harder and harder. His free hand comes up, working through the hair that’s fallen in his face. Yet again, he looks like artwork. Muscles clear against his skin from a long night of patrol. Scarred flesh across his rippling torso, across his arms and legs.

You’ve never adjusted seeing Bruce so scarred; each time, you think of how much is at stake when he goes out at night. The scars are a testament to Bruce’s loyalty, but not to you. To his city, whenever she needs him.

She is the woman he’s given his heart to, no matter the ring on your finger. You could bare his child, fill up Wayne Manor with adorable giggles, and he would still turn to her each and every night. As difficult as that is to accept, it’s one of the things that had driven you to Bruce in the first place.

His eyes don’t stray from the sight of you before him, grinding against his leg, smearing your slick over him. Ever observant, but telling nothing. You used to worry when he stared at you like that during sex; the ferocity was unnerving. Were you doing something wrong? Making an awkward face? But you’ve since learned the honor of capturing Bruce’s attention. Such a fleeting thing, so often preoccupied with his mission, so seldom letting dedication give way to pleasure.

But then there are these times when the call of your body outshines his endless duty. When he isn’t thinking of the future, but thinking of right now. Thinking of you. And, apparently, fucking a baby into you.

Bruce coats the tip of his swollen cock with precum as he works himself. He drops, catching himself against the mattress with one hand, still pumping his cock in the other. “Do you want it?” he asks, voice low. Eyes wild. You feel him brush up against your entrance.

You nod, mouth agape in a raunchy display of how badly you want him.

His tip pushes inside and you gasp. He holds himself up on an elbow as he half-thrusts into you. You squirm beneath him trying to satiate the urgent need to be full. His head ducks down into your neck; his breath is hot against your skin as he lets out a sigh. Bruce will never ask for safety, nor will he admit he needs it. But even when he dons the batsuit, there is still some part of him that’s a terrified child, alone in an alley.

You are safety he won’t ask for. Shelter he’s never known to seek. Security he is terrified to lose.

He eases himself in slowly, making sure you feel every vein as he sinks deeper into you.

Your hands land on his back, nails digging into the skin. Breath catches in your throat and your back arches against Bruce.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, already perfectly aware of the answer.

You let out a breathy affirmation, eyes fluttering shut as he hits something blindingly sweet inside of you. All day, you’d been wanting this, aching to feel him. Daydreaming of being split open on his dick. Now you have it, and it’s even better than you were thinking.

He holds himself in you for a minute, and your walls flutter around him. Lips brush over skin, quickened breaths hold space in the silence as you both grasp onto one another until eventually he starts rutting against you, nudging at the already aching spot deep within you.

Bruce’s resolve never crumbles, fucking you with the same level of intention as he does anything else in his life. He keeps his pace steady, his face concentrated. His eyes slip shut, brows pinched together.

“Feels so good,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“I know it does,” Bruce coos, hand gripping the back of your neck. “I want it to feel good when I put my baby in you.”

And god, does that do something to you. His movements feel even more blissful, your biological urges getting stroked just as much as your pussy. Whether this is a wise decision or not remains to be seen, but you’re too fucked out to think straight, and it’s not like your baby fever brain is going to tell you anything contrary.

He holds onto your hips, practically folding you to thrust in deeper. You cry out, pleasure causing something syrupy to build within you yet again.

“Take it slow, darling,” he says. “I want us to cum together. You can wait, can’t you?”

His dirty talk is the one thing that didn’t seem to change once you knew he was Batman, the one thing that hadn’t dissipated from the persona. As usually non-verbal as Bruce was, he loved to dirty talk.

“Not like this…” you reply breathlessly. Not when he’s hitting just the right spot, not when the warmth inside of you feels absolutely molten and you can feel yourself squeezing around him.

Bruce grunts, a characteristic sign of his disapproval. “Do you need a break?” He doesn’t mean to sound patronizing; it just comes naturally to him. Like it’s your fault he fucks you like a man deprived. But before you can call him out on it, he takes a hand away from your hips, lowering himself onto an elbow yet again. “Do you need to cool down?” His teeth graze your earlobe gently, his voice growing just slightly sweeter.

He dips his head down back into your neck, nipping at the skin, a hand trails up your side, cupping a breast in his palm. “I don’t want to rush.”

“Of course not,” you scoff, still working to catch your breath. Your hips jerk towards him again, trying replicate his thrusts somehow, but he doesn’t allow you what you seek. You squeeze around him, trying to persuade him to fuck into you again, but Bruce’s iron will doesn’t give.

“Breathe,” he whispers. His fingers brush up against your pulse point, shivers running down your spine from the gentle gesture. “I’ll let you cum soon. I promise.”

You’ve learned a long time ago that Bruce’s promises only go so far. He promises to show up for the dinner reservations he booked, only for Alfred to tell you he stepped out as soon as you’re ready. He promises for a day without Batman, only for him to sneak down to the cave as soon as he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

For all you know, he means to draw this out until the sun rises. It’s not like it’d be the first time.

He leans in until he’s just a breath away. He nips at your bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. You hear his deep chuckle as he tugs on the lip, his cock twitching inside of you. Once again, you try to grind down, try to seek more of his length. He frees your lip from its arrest before diving back in. He kisses you, passionate yet soft. Back to that devout touch.

You respond greedily, legs still bent at his hips. Your fingers curl into his hair, holding him against you.

He pulls back. He raises his hand, cupping your jaw in his palm. Eyes fixed on you.

“I love you, you know.”

Bruce doesn’t say it often; he’s admitted so himself. You’ve known for a long time now to expect the unconventional with your husband. Love confessions while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you is the closest the two of you get to normal.

“If you love me, you’d let me cum,” you pout.

He chuckles softly. “I thought you liked it when I’m sweet.” Taunting you again. He’s lucky you do love him otherwise you would never put up with all his bullshit. Coming home bleeding. Leaving you to worry about him while he runs around Gotham. Putting off your orgasm when he knows how badly you need it.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. You feel his heart pounding against your chest. His cock jerks against your walls.

Without warning, he sinks back into you. You gasp, nails digging back into his skin at the sudden movement. His movements are deep and sure, hitting that same spot inside of you. “Oh fuck!” you cry, head thrown back against the pillows. “Fuck, Bruce, just like that.”

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he growls into the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t leave you so desperate.”

Bruce thrusts into you, pushing deep, hitting the spots he knows will leave you too fucked out to move once he’s finished with you. Warmth pools back in your core as your pleasure builds back up from where Bruce left you. You clutch him against you, demanding your release. And this time, he shows you mercy.

Bruce moans against you. Even for his expert precision, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, more frantic. He’s close.

You bite down on his shoulder. Bruce’s groans louder.

“Do you want me to come inside you, darling? Do you want me to give you a baby?” His voice is rough, a sign that his composure is cracking.

“Uh-huh…” You nod, gripping onto him like a vice so he doesn’t even consider pulling away from you.

“I will,” he murmurs.

Your sighs and pants join together, both of you wrapped so tightly around the other where you truly do feel like one. Being deprived of your orgasm has you frenzied, chasing after your high. And this time, Bruce follows through.

Your climax hits you like a train. For a few seconds, your ears are ringing, and you stare up at Bruce blankly, too blissed out to see.

He slams into you, hips stuttering. His hand cups your neck, eyes pinched shut. As he tosses his head back, you think of the rareness of this moment. Expression pinched with pleasure, Bruce makes good on his promise, spilling into you. You feel his cock pulsing, softly grinding against you, making sure every drop fills your pussy.

He falls on top of you, cock still buried inside of you. His weight is comforting, if just a little suffocating. But your body thrums with the electricity of your orgasm. Fingertips tingling, sweat beading up on your skin. Your walls throb around him, his seed warm inside in hopes of taking root.

The two of you are silent as you catch your breath, coming down from your bliss. The room is dark, and yet you feel absolutely bathed in light, warm and heavy.

You let out a soft whimper when Bruce finally pulls out, feeling cold and empty in his absence. He rises to his knees and observes his work, eyes sparkling as he watches his cum leak out of you. He swipes his thumb along your clit. You squirm, still sensitive from your peak.

“You’re irresistible, do you know that?” he asks you, still kneeling above you. Cum drips from his tip, sliding down his still-hard shaft.

Had you any energy left to speak, you’d remind him how he’s usually quite able to resist you, but you don’t want to ruin the afterglow of all of that. Not when you can watch Bruce’s scarred belly rising and falling from his exertion. Not after feeling his heart beating in time with yours as he pumps you full of his cum.

You hum contentedly, too spent for words, laying in the afterglow of the sex. The sounds of Bruce moving about the room only partially register in your mind until the bed shifts with his weight again. You jolt slightly, shaken from your stupor as Bruce gently cleans up the cum leaking from you.

“I meant what I said.” Bruce doesn’t look up as he speaks. “We’d have beautiful children.”

A tired smile crawls on your face as you look back at him. “We will,” you reply.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider giving this a reblog 💛

[violent138]

Martha, Alfred, Bruce and Clark, and John sitting in the kitchen and trying to have a peaceful conversation, when inhuman screeching from upstairs is followed by a stampede of footsteps, before Dick races down into the kitchen, running frantically, empty water gun in hand. 

"What is going on?" Bruce barks, with absolutely zero effect because Jason is there a second later and tackles him through the net door on the patio. 

Martha's utterly charmed watching Bruce drop the exceedingly polite guest act as he scrambled out to the cold patio to scold the gremlins.

Clark shook his head, as the drill sergeant Batman voice filtered into the house.

Both boys are grinning when they enter, still bickering, utterly unabashed. But they do apologize to Martha and John about the door.

"I'm very sorry about that. I will pay for the door." Bruce says, dropping back into his seat.

"You raised a good one, Alfred," Martha said, patting the butler's hand.

Clark grinned and Bruce frowned, confused.

[moonwqves]

⋮ 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧

───〃★ bruce wayne (batman) x reader.

★ — SUMMARY | shower sex after a night on patrol. ★ — WORD COUNT | 1.2k ★ — WARNINGS | fem!reader ; pwp ; unprotected sex ; mentions of blood/injuries

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI.

most nights when bruce gets back to the manor, you’re still asleep. in the early hours of the morning, just before the sky begins to lighten, he doesn’t expect you to still be awake as he sheds all his gear and trudges his way upstairs.

but some nights you wait up for him, occupying yourself with a book or a new tv series as you sit curled up in your chair in the dark.

he assumes you’re still in bed sleeping soundly and he heads quietly into the bathroom to start cleaning himself up, not noticing that you’re silently watching. he’s known for being stealthy, but tonight you’re the one who’s slipping into the shadows.

his clothes hit the floor piece by piece as he turns the water on and strips bare, the steam from the shower quickly filling the room with heat and fogging up the mirror.

the hot water stings the bloody cuts on his knuckles, and he hisses as he runs his hands beneath the shower stream, watching the blood wash down the drain. they’re just minor scrapes and it’s nothing he isn’t used to by now, but it’s always a chore to take care of himself at the end of the night.

you open the bathroom door just a crack and peek your head inside to call his name, and instantly his head whips around at the noise. droplets of water collect in his eyelashes as he stares at you, his piercing gaze locked with yours as tears of black eyeliner roll down his cheeks, the warm water melting away his dark exterior. he's tired, he's aching and bruised from this routine of difficult nights, but everything disappears the second he sees you.

you pause as he wipes his hand across his eyes, smearing the fading makeup even further before he jerks his head to beckon you to join him, and you quickly start to undress. your clothes slip off, collecting in a pile on the floor next to his as you slide back the glass door and step inside.

your heart races as his eyes silently roam over your figure, streams of water trickling down his toned chest, and you can’t help but study him in return. you reach out to trace your fingers over the old scars that litter his skin, and you note the fresh scratches and cuts he’s earned himself while out in the city tonight.

you start to pull away to grab the soap, but his hand wraps around your wrist and you freeze, looking up at him. you can see the flash of lust in his eyes as he grips you tightly, pulling you closer until you’re standing flush against his body, and the proximity sends a shiver of desire down your spine.

he leans forward to capture your lips, his deep voice groaning out your name as his arms sliding down to sit firmly around your waist. you melt into him, automatically moaning into the kiss, and he greedily swallows your noises until it feels like he’s going to suck the breath right out of your lungs.

he kisses you harder, one hand falling to your hip while the other reaches up to cup your jaw and guide your mouth further into him, his tongue prodding between your lips in a way that makes you feel warm from the inside out.

his hand on your hip travels lower to grope your ass, and he squeezes a little harder when you let out a gasp against his lips, relishing in the responses he’s drawing from you. he starts to move and suddenly you feel the ice cold tile of the shower wall against your back, and you arch away from it instinctively, seeking the warmth of his body.

a large hand grips your thigh and hikes your leg up around his waist, securing your ankle behind the back of his thigh for balance. his pelvis presses between your legs, and you can already feel his cock hardening against your skin.

“bruce,” you whine as you try to rock your hips against him, desperate for the friction he provides.

he doesn’t reply but he lets out a soft noise under his breath, somewhere between a hum and a growl, and he attaches his lips to your neck just below your ear.

he pushes himself into you and you gasp, your heat enveloping his length as you cling to him. your legs tremble as he begins to thrust slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck even tighter. you can feel his biceps flexing around you as he holds you against the wall, supporting nearly all of your weight as he starts to build up his pace. drops of water trickle down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, but it’s hard to tell if it’s from the shower or if it’s sweat.

even after a night of patrol and the physical toll it takes on him, bruce’s stamina far outweighs yours. it only takes minutes before he has you whimpering and clenching around him, struggling to keep up with his relentless pace.

he pulls back to adjust his hips, giving him a better angle to drive his cock into you so that his tip kisses your spot with each stroke. he can tell you’re about to cum when he feels you starting to pull away from him, all the tension in your body building up like a dam about to break as your back arches and you squirm in his grasp.

with one more pointed thrust you come undone, a constant stream of whines pouring from your lips like the shower water pouring down his back. he doesn’t let up until your body goes limp in his arms, fucking you through your orgasm while you can barely keep yourself standing up straight.

suddenly he swoops in and presses his lips to your mouth once again, his perfect pace slipping and becoming more and more erratic, and you know he’s close behind. with your leg behind him you pull him closer, giving him just enough extra leverage to bury himself inside you as deep as he can go before his release slams into him.

his grip on your hips is almost bruising as he keeps you held tightly against him, letting out low, deep groans as he spills into you. warmth floods your stomach and you exhale a shaky whimper as you start to come down from the dizzying effects of your high.

just before you feel your leg starting to cramp up he pulls back, slipping out of you but keeping his arms still firmly around you to keep you supported. he tilts his head down to study you, secretly preening at the fucked-out look on your face. he looks much worse off, his cuts and scrapes still forming scabs and the black makeup streaked across his cheeks, but he’s still more concerned about you than himself.

he gives you a moment to stand on your own, and he smirks when you immediately reach again for the soap and start to scrub at his body with a loofah.

he lets you pamper him for now, because he knows neither of you will be getting any sleep until dawn.

© moonwqves 2024. do not repost or translate. ── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 want to join my taglist? send an ask!

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog or let me know in a comment or an ask! feedback helps so much with motivation and gives me energy to continue writing :)

a/n: this is my first time posting outside of my main fandom, but it was a lot of fun to write && i am really excited to continue writing new things!! i hope you enjoy, please interact (reblog, comment, ask) if you liked it!

[confused-wanderer]

I know we all talk about Jason finding out Dick killed the Joker from Tim or one of the other batfam members, but what if:

One day he’s searching for blackmail material on a member just for fun and knows Damian keeps a list of all of them so he backs into the files and realised the folder with the heaviest inscription to unlock is one labelled “Contingencies”.

He opens it to find every single person in their family is on there and starts surfing through them. When he sees Tim’s he freezes, mentally filing away some horrific details for checking up on him later, Jason’s list is impressive but not much he didn’t expect…still concerned how he got the evidence though.

His fingers hesitate over Batman’s, and after thinking screw it what the hell clicks on it just to realise most of them are psychological, and had to do with Jason. One video showed Bruce as Jason remembered him from his robin days. He was pacing furiously in the Manor, tugging on his pocket square which for him was a high level of distress, before he went upstairs - to Jason’s room when he stayed there - and looked in. The change was sudden, Bruce’s shoulders sagged and his face grew into one of fondness, one he’d rarely seen before.

“I cant help it Alfred.. Scarecrow’s toxin.. I KNOW it isn’t real but.. I can’t stop thinking about it. What if -“ and Jason can’t really believe his ears, that was a fucking quiver in his voice- “What if one day it comes true?” “What was your worst fear Master Bruce?”.

“Jason..” and Jason flinches. “I.. I saw him die, and I was powerless. I cant lose him Alfred. I just cant.”

The recording ends, and it takes a while for Jason to realise he can’t breathe. He sends the file to himself and laughs bitterly, remembering what the fear toxin had shown him. Lucifer. It had shown him falling from Bruce’s grace, being his greatest disappointment. “Guess we both failed each other didnt we old man?”

After what feels like forever, when he can feel his fingers stop shaking his eyes drift over to Dicks.

Damian sure does adore him, wonder what the brats got in store for him.

Most of them were things he was sure Dick could handle, until a glitched file appeared which read “for EXTREME situations only.”

When he heard Joker laugh, Jason could’ve sworn he was in the cave. “Hello there old friend! Aww why the long face?”

Dick wasn’t facing the camera, but the sheer aura of destruction radiating off of him was enough for Jason to know Joker was in danger. Judging by his outfit and well- hair- this must’ve been years ago.

“Didn’t you like my..ah.. gift? It was quite the blast I hear!”

Dicks fists clenched. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a hatred so vile it could’ve rivalled batman’s glare. It was so odd.. seeing him so pissed.

“Well that’s what happens.. when birds get hit. They never see what’s right in front of them and then BAM!”

As his laughter rang out Jason heard Dick whisper something. It was so soft, quieter than he’d ever heard him and he found himself leaning forward.

“What’s that? How long he lasted? Well I counted everytime he screamed when I broke his bones so-“

“SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”

Jason stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor himself. Dicks voice was thundering, echoing across the cave.

What the hell had happened? Why was Dick so mad? Why wasn’t he smiling?

“You..killed him.”

And that’s when it hit Jason. Oh. This was after he’d died.

The joker was trying to say something, but Jason couldn’t hear him. All he could focus on was how Dick was behaving, how he was walking upto Joker. Jason had seen that before.

The intent to kill.

SLAM

The fight was brutal, and blood flew everywhere, mixed with the laughter and cries of the Joker while Dick yelled, YELLED so loudly he could’ve sworn the cave was shaking before the sound of a wet snap ricocheted and Dick went limp.

No.. no no no no.

He watched in horror as Dick stood up, drenched in blood and heaving. Dick had gone- no BEATEN- the joker for Jason.

But the longer he looked, the more he felt the Lazarus pit burning inside him.

The joker wasn’t moving.

Dick walked away, and in the shadows, with bloody fists and face of hatred could not see him as the Dick he knew.

“Dead.”

He looked up to hear Dick whisper to the thundering sky outside.

“I killed him Jason. The joker is dead. Rest in peace little wing.”

Jason’s feet gave out under him, and he crashed to the ground gasping for breath.

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he had been avenged.

Never did he even think that Dick had only killed once… and only for him.

Part two of related series where Jason finds out Bruce nearly killed the Joker:

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

[saylorsaysstop]

Cuddling | Bat Boys

The biggest question on everyone's mind is how do the crime-stopping vigilantes of Gotham City like to cuddle?

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤

"Brucie," you smile up at him from your spot in the middle of the king-sized bed, the television playing some show you found on a streaming service. Your eyes skated across your fiancé's large back, the muscles rippling before your eyes.

"Yeah?" He called out to him, running a hand through his black hair. His entire body ached from tonight's mishap and he didn't have to tell you about it. The look was written all over his face.

"C'mere," you extend your hands. "Come cuddle with me."

Bruce chuckled quietly. He wasn't a man who would use the term cuddle but even he wasn't going to deny that being in your arms sounded nice, especially after the night he had. "You should be asleep." He scolds you gently, making his way over after stripping to his boxers.

You smirk and open your arms, feeling as the massive weight of Bruce's body crushes you. A tiny squeak leaves your mouth at the pressure and Bruce quickly accommodates. Sometimes it was scary just how defined Bruce's body was. He had lines of muscle and curves in places you could only pin to imagination. Staring at him unclothed and in his true nature– never failed to steal your breath away.

"Don't start with me... You look like hell." You smirk, your fingertips curling around the strands of hair. You opened your legs a little more to give him some room and slowly, Bruce resumed his position with his scarred-up cheek laying directly against your stomach. He curled his arms around your frame and actually nuzzled into you.

"See? Even the Batman needs to be cuddled..." You whisper, kissing the crown of his head as your fingertips begin their descent along his spine.

"Don't you... Tell the boys about this." Bruce says, a wave of sleepiness overcoming him, much quicker than it had these last few nights.

And he knew exactly why it was easier tonight.

DICK GRAYSON 💙

"BABE!" Dick screamed from upstairs. You nearly dropped your phone at the frantic tone in his voice. You took the stairs two at a time until you reached the top and swerved to find the bedroom door sprung open.

"What?! What's wrong?!" You erupt, gripping the doorknob. But when you were met with the sight of a perfectly fine Dick Grayson, you grumbled a curse word. Your boyfriend walks over to you, his smile widening.

"You came pretty fast. Worried about me?" he smirks, deliciously skimming his fingertips over your bare shoulders before hoisting you to him with his hand on the small of your back. You try to push him off of you but it's no use.

"I should worry about my constant belief that every time you scream, something is wrong." You grimace, giving up on trying to escape his hold. "What do you want?"

Dick grins mercilessly and wraps his arms around you. In one swift motion, he has you in the air, the next your back is hitting the soft mattress. He never takes his arms from around you. Before you have time to question his motives, Dick's hard chest is pressing firmly against your back, and his warm lips are decorating the back of your neck with sweet kisses, meanwhile his arms remain locked around your midsection.

"You screamed... For a cuddle?" You giggle.

"I could go for screaming about something else if you're in the mood... But yes. I just wanted to hold you. That so bad, sweet girl?" Dick purrs against your ear, nipping your earlobe which sends a shock of electricity down your spine.

"No funny business, Dick." You smirk, laying your hands over his.

JASON TODD ❤️

He came inside wordlessly. With his helmet tucked under his arm and his leather jacket hitting the floor with a thud, you lift your eyes from your book to see a bruised and battered Jason Todd. His eyes scan the room and relief washes over him when he sees you cuddled in the sheets.

"Jaybird?" You close your book. He takes his boots off and walks over. Without a word, Jason crawls up the length of the bed until he's beside you. He wraps a strong arm around you and turns your chest to face his. "Hey, what is it?"

Jason shakes his head. "It was a rather... Complicated night. Everything's fine. Everyone's okay. But can I just hold you?" He asks, stroking his thumb over your cheek, his gaze deep with yours.

You won't ever deny him that. You know on harder nights, Jason uses cuddling as a means to exude his emotions that he'd rather not talk about.

"Of course, baby." You smile. Jason smiles in return and leans down to peck your lips.

"Thanks, baby girl." He cradles the back of your head to his neck and you smother yourself in smoke, leather, and cologne. Jason smelled wonderful. You wrap your arms and tangle your legs through his, feeling as Jason squeezes you tightly in his arms, his lips skimming your skin every so often.

He dances his fingers up and down your back and before the night grows older, Jason's softly snoring, and you're trying to wake him back up to properly get ready for bed.

TIM DRAKE ☕️

You walked downstairs to see Tim stretched out on the couch, some report in his hands. Your eyes widen at the sight. You peel your gaze off your boyfriend and to the kitchen table where... Yup. His empty coffee cups and paperwork sit.

"Are you feverish? Since when do you lay down and look over paperwork on a case?" You giggle quietly, causing Tim's eyes to drift from the papers. He smiles lazily and sighs.

"Wanted a change of scenery?" He lies with a laugh.

"Super important?" You nod toward the paper in his hand.

Tim's eyebrows lift. He liked where this was going. "Not... Really. What'd you have in mind, sweetheart?"

Nothing could have prepared him for your running start, followed by your swift launching with arms spread wide. He manuvered by throwing the folder down on the ground and caught you in his arms, where you landed with an audible thud against his chest.

"What was that?!" Tim erupts, both of you coughing and breaking into hysterics. You kiss up his neck and wrap your arms around him.

"Cuddle me?" You muffle into his throat. Tim laughs even louder and wraps both his legs and arms around you, practically bear-hugging you to his chest. Both of your bodies rattle from the laughter filling your living room.

As it slowly subsides and you two can focus on each other's breathing, Tim looks down at you and kisses your cheek softly. He moves a little so you can lay beside him comfortably on the couch where he throws his leg over yours and pins you to his chest with a strong arm and flat hand on your belly. He skims under the fabric of your t-shirt and strokes your skin with light strokes.

He knew he wouldn't get anything else done today. All of his attention now belonged to you.

[raineydays411]

My fathers daughter pt 12

It all comes out sometime

"Jay?" You ask.

"Yeah its me. How the fuck did you get access to the coms?" He asks amused at your actions.

"Trust me hacking this isn't any harder than hydra files" You say passively, " Anyways that's not important, I think I can help with this Joker thing."

"Wait? Really?" He ask seriously, "Y/n, listen carefully, I need you to go into Bruce's office and find the big ass clock --"

"Yeah I already found the secret hide out" You say annoyed, "Mommy dearest kicked me out before I could tell her how I could help."

Jason sighed, knowing that his mother probably tried to use her mom voice on you. " Yeah, she told us she didn't want you to be in the whole vigilante think."

The anger that was simmering under your skin came back, but before you let it get the best of you, you continued. Knowing that this information was more important than whatever mommy issues you had.

"Right, well that's not important." You say," Listen to me now."

"I'm listening." Jason grunted, sounding like was punching someone,

"Whatever chemical agent Jackass put in his venom is the exact same stuff that was used to brainwash the Winter Soldier" You say quickly.

"Kid, I wanna believe you but how do you know that? Tim was just able to get a sample and process it."

"Because, I was told that every antidote you use only makes the effects stronger right?"

"Right" He says strained

"In order to make sure that the Winter Soldier stayed the Winter Soldier and not Bucky, Hydra had to make sure his brain produced a certain amount of hormones. And that whatever anybody used, the effects couldn't reverse. Hence chemical X."

"Chemical X?"

"The name is to long for me to attempt to pronounce, anyways, lucky for us, my daddy just so happened to create a serum that undoes Chemical X. And if I check," You pause, taking over the computer downstairs, and checking the sample Tim had sent in, " The component is there."

"Well I'll be damned"

"Exactly. Now, I need you to find a lab or something. This serum was made with the intention of being made on the fly. So everything you need should be there." You say pulling up a map of Gotham general.

"Wait, I need to tell Bruce." Jason said, " Joker said he had the only antidote and he's fighting him right now"

"No thats not possible. The only ones who know about it is my father and I." You said worridly.

Meanwhile while you were upstair lending a helping hand, downstairs Christine and Alfred were panicking because they lost control of Jason's com and the main computer.

'Alfred I can't find him" Christinen cried, " How did he just disappear like that?

"I don't know miss, there's no possible way he could've."

"Wait." Christine says looking up to the screen, " Bruce and Tim are gone"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How did you get con-"

"It's not important" You say cutting Batman off, " Listen to me, Joker doesn't have the cure."

"How do you know that?" The dark knight asks skeptically

"Because, until my dad figured it out, there was no cure." You say impatiently, " This chemical wasn't intended to have a cure."

"But you figured it out?"

"YES" You shout frustrated at the constant repetition, " DO you want the step by step or do you want to save lives?"

"hm" Bruce grunted, " And you know how to make it?"

"I do." You say earnestly

There was a pause, you heard grunting and what sounded like fighting in the background.

On Bruce's side, he managed to get the Joker disarmed and tied up.

He searched him for what he claimed was the vial containing the cure. But upon finding it, the Joker decided to throw his head back connecting with Batman's face. The sudden impact caused him to drop the vial, shattering it on the linoleum floor. The liquid oozing out and burning a hole into the floor.

"Ooops" the Joker cackled, " Aww poor Batsy, I guess I may have told a little white lie"

As Bruce rose from the floor, Robin ran in holding another vial

"Batman, the antidote." He says with a stern look on his face.

The smug smile fell from the Jokers face as he looked at the preteen.

"Thats...that's not possible!" Joker cried out, " There is no cure. There was never a cure."

Batman looked Joker straight in the eye, " No Joker, it looks like you miscalculated."

And with that, a swift punch to the face knocked the Joker out. A breath of relief flowed from the Batfamily. Now they can focus on what really mattered, helping the infected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in your room you paced, after explaining how to make the cure, you hadn't hear back from the family. The anxiety you had building up in you made your heart feel as of it was going to explode.

"Y/n" Jasons voice came from your computer, " It worked."

You felt like crying, " Really? Are you for real?'

"No I'm lying and everyone died" Jason said sarcastically, " Yes I'm for real."

"Thank god" You said wetly

"Oh god are you crying?" Jason said uncomfortably

"No." and with that you disconnected, allowing access back to the main computer downstairs. After doing that you sat on your be, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself. But the tears kept flowing. You were so worried that you didn't get the information to Bruce on time. You were worried about the people that were exposed for too long. The ones that the antidote may not have worked on.

You may have been able to help a few but how many more could you have saved if you were listened to right away. The anger simmered back in your body.

You hated that Christine treated you as if you were a child. She completely disregarded what you had to say and took a shot at your father. At least he was smart enough to know that you were capable of more than just sitting and twiddle your thumbs.

You had half a mind to go down there and give her a piece of you mind. But before you could, a chime came from your phone

"Hey Starky! guess who's on the neighborhood <3"

Wade?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the Batman co. finally made it back to the cave they all were exhausted. Every single one of them wanted to get home and take a shower. Dick and Jason would be staying at the manor simply because they couldn't muster up the energy to make their respective journeys back home. Damian and Cass were knocked out in the back of the batmobile and even Bruce was having a hard time staying awake while driving.

Honestly, ever since his family was created, Bruce/Batman became less about vengeance and more about protecting the city that he and his family live and care about. And maybe, if there was anyway that he can help mend the relationship between your family and his, perhaps you can be a part of his team as well, as sad at it was to say your hacking skills were way above his and Tims.

Lost in thought, Bruce didn't realized that when he pulled in Christine was in borderline hysterics and Alfred looked a little more frazzled than usual.

"Oh! Bruce!", Christine cried throwing herself into the confused bat, " What happened?! Is everyone one okay?"

"Christine, darling what are you-" Bruce was puzzled, Christine always had somewhat of a flair for the dramatics but there should be no reason for her to be this worried, especially because she's able to see everything .

"I thought we lost you! All of you!" Christine cried, eyes welling up with tears," The coms cut our for what felt like hours and then the main computer crashed! Me and Alfred both were barely able to get it rebooted before you got here!"

"Wait, if the main computer crashed then how was Y/n able to talk to us through the coms?" Tim asked tiredly, only jolting awake when Jason harshly elbowed him, signaling him to shut up about your participation.

"What do you mean? Y/n has been in her room this whole time." Christine says with a look of confusion on her face.

The batfamily all looked at each other, silently daring each other to step up and tell the truth, and face the wrath of their mother. Even Bruce didn't want to rat you out, knowing where Christine stood on her thoughts of you being involved.

Now don't get the wrong idea, Christine is by definition an overprotective mother. Theres no doubt about that. But there is a reason as to why she wants you out of the hero life and spot life in general.

Firstly, you are Tony Stark's daughter. There is no getting around that. And being Tony Stark's daughter also means you're Iron Mans daughter. And that is the whole reason you are there in Gotham in the first place. Amidst all the familial drama, everybody seemed to forget that you are still being hunted by an anonymous group. But Christine hasn't. Every night she lies awake worried to death that that was the night they found you. That they would come for you.

Secondly, the villians that her husband and family deal with are...for lack of words psychoic. If they figured out that you, Iron mans daughter, was helping their enemy Batman there would be more people after you. And from what Christine has witnessed these people do, the horrors and atrocities they casually commit. That frightens her even more.

So, with that being said, the look on her families face and the circumstances that had just occurred, it wasn't hard for her to figure out the cause of their technical malfunctions. And what a coincidence that these malfunctions only happened after you were sent to your room.

"Bruce.", Christine said in a clam even tone, " What are you not telling me." She didn't ask she demanded.

"Darling." Bruce said in a pleading tone, " It was a long night for everybody, why don't we just discuss it in the morning"

"Discuss it in the morning?" Christine asked incredulously, " Discuss it in the morning?! Do you know how worried I was? How worried WE were" She gestures to herself and Alfred who looked mildly uncomfortable to be put in the argument, " We thought you were injured or worse DEAD!"

The kids tried to slowly back out, inching towards the elevator that you totally didn't know was there.

"Don't even think about it" Christine said without looking at them, " How dare you all? How dare you? I asked ALL of you for one simple thing. Just one. To keep her OUT of it."

"Christine that's hardly fair-" Bruce started to say before getting cut off.

"No! It is totally fair! There are PEOPLE after her. People who are still out there by the way! Tony and his team haven't been able to find them! They keep slipping away whenever they get close! They are out there, trying to get MY daughter, for god knows what!"

Bruce glances towards the staircase entrance but before he can say anything Christine goes on, " DO you understand how hard it has been to keep anything from this world from her!"

"Ma she grew up in this world, it's not fair to just cut her out" Jason cuts in, " She feels left out because we're all pretending like we aren't who we are and pretending as of we don't have The Tony Starks daughter in our house. She's not a civilian, she's in it."

"She is not just Tonys daughter she's mine too!" Christine shouts before tears start to drop from her eyes, " Shes MINE, she can't be taken from me."

In the batmobile, Cass buries her face into a sleeping Damians chest.

"Mom, do you think any of us would let that happen?" Dick finally speaks up, " I mean, come on have a little faith"

" I just wanted her to stay out of it, to get out for good."

" Darling, that girl was not made to stay out of things, look at whp her parents are," Bruce chuckled, " Besides, she's never going to come around if we don't fully open ourselves up to her as well."

"You have to admit Ma, fighting is the only way any of us bonded" Jason says, " Except me, she likes me."

"I don't know why " Dick says with a frown, still bitter at the fact that you had bonded with Jason before him.

Christine sniffled before saying, " I still need to go talk to her, the way she cut us off was unacceptable."

"But-" Tim finally spoke out but it was too late, Christine was already marching to the elevator, mind made up about scolding you for what she thought was a practical joke.

The rest of the team was left in the Bat cave shaking their heads at their mothers stubbornness.

Bruce's sighed and started to put things away, " There's going to be fight and I don't want to be in the middle of that."

The three awake boys nodded.

" Someone wake up Damian and Cass, they need to go to bed."

Jason and Dick pushed Tim forward, if there was one other thing they didn't want to get in the middle of, was those two and their sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back upstairs you were filled to the brim with anger. You had gone downstairs to greet the returning heroes and rub your success in Christines face, only to overhear what you had already confirmed.

Christine had been purposefully keeping things from you. Not only about Bruce being Batman ( Which you already knew), but about your situation.

See, when you had first moved to Gotham, you knew that there would be almost little to no contact with your family. The few times you were able to talk to someone from back home it wasn't even your parents. Something about phone lines being traceable and unreliable.

The only line of communication was given to you by Natasha before you left, a single flip burner phone that was only to be used for emergencies.

But Christine apparently was getting updates directly from your father. Updates you were sure were meant to be given to you. So not only had she had a hand in the intentional isolation of you from her family, she was trying to isolate you from yours as well.

It made you so angry! You already have sacrificed so much just to be here and you didn't even want to be there in the first place. You ripped open your laptop and went to do a little digging. Upon doing that, you found about a dozen of lengthy emails from your father describing in great lengths about your situation and details about life back home. These emails were obviously meant to be read by you and they all were marked as read and filed away. How they got to the Batcomputer was unknown to you but as you scanned each word tears welled up into your eyes, you father had not forgot about you.

You sat on the bed, taking deep breaths trying to calm down. You managed to restrain yourself and not blow up at that woman in front of her whole family and you really were trying to calm down so you can have a mature conversation about it.

You were trying.

but then, "Y/n Stark how dare you disobey your mother!"

What?

"What?" You say eyes ripping open and anger finally bubbling over

"How dare you! I asked you for one thing! All I wanted was to make sure my family would have been okay!"

"And are they dead?" You ask bluntly, " Is everyone who was infected dead?"

Christine turned red, " That is not the point young lady and I don't appreciate you talking about your family like that."

"They are NOT my family!" You shout, " You are not my family"

'Y/n" Christine start but now you were the one to cut her off

"NO, and since we are on the topic of not appreciating things lets talk about how I don't appreciate how you have been deliberately LYING to me."

"Excuse me?" Christine asks angrily, " I will have you know that I do not have to disclose every single piece of information I have to yo."

" Not even when it's about my own father." You said with an even tone, " Or do you not have to disclose that piece of information to me."

Christine lifts her chine, " Y/n I have no idea what you are talking about?"

"Oh you don't?" You ask," So you and your husband aren't hiding emails from my father to me in that big ass computer?"

Eyes widen, " How do you -"

"How do I know about that?" You mock, " So it's true?"

"Y/n that's not the point" Christine started, " Your practical joke could have seriously put the lives of your siblings in danger."

" My siblings?" You ask, " They are not my siblings! I don't even know those people!"

Christine stays quiet, then shakes her head, " If you would just come out of the room and get to know them other than Jason-"

"Why so they could tell me how great you are?' You say, " So they can tell me memories they have of you being a good mother to them?"

Christine's eyes well up with tears, " Y/n that's not fair"

"Oh that not fair to you, mom?" you shout, " And it was so fair to me when you left me to raise another kid?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the hallway Dick and Jason are paused half way up the staircase.

Dicks heart falls into his stomach at your comment, knowing that that kid you were talking about was him.

Jason on the other hand had a grim look on his face. He knew that this conversation needed to happen in order for anything to move on.He knew the years of resentment you were holding on to. It wasn't fair to you that everyone in this house had this subconscious expectation that you should just put those years behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That is not what happened" Christine says wetly, " It was just hard, Y/n you don't understand."

"Hard?!" You shout angerliy, " It was hard? Hard for you to visit your daughter once every three fucking months? Was it hard for you to lead my dad on then crush his heart every time you left?"

"NO Y/N thats not true" Christine shouted but before she could continue you went on

"No???" you mocked, " Then what was it mom?"

" Everytime I went to see you, you had grown." Christine sniffs, " You had grown and had new adventures and stories and milestones that i was not a part of. I-"

"OH bullshit!" You shout

"Y/n." Christine says sadly

"NO, no you don't get to play that card! You left by choice!" You cry, " You left me by choice, you hid me away by choice! You chose this life for us."

" I loved you so much. I LOVE you so much Y/n!"

"You have a funny way of showing it." You say dryly, " You have this perfect life here. Perfect husband, a shit load of kids who adore you. I adored you. Why wasn't I enough?"

Christine's heartbroke and she couldn't answer you because truthfully, she didn't have an answer.

"And the one parent I was enough for I had to leave. I had to leave him and my mother behind for my other one who didn't want me. And I'm stuck in a house full of these kids who adore you and didn't know that I adored you well before them. And yet even though I'm here I'm alone. And that still isn't enough for you."

Christine wanted to say you weren't alone. You weren't because you have her. She's here for you, but that wasn't true. She hadn't been there. She wasn't there even when she was.

"You had to make me think my father forgot about me the way you did for what? So I can like you again? So I could forget all the times you promised you were going to come see me and you didn't? Why?"

"I..I just wanted to keep you safe.." Christine spouted pathetically.

"Safe?" You said, herding her towards your door, " No, everything you've done is because you want to look better. You're selfish. That's what you've always been"

And with that you slam the door in her face, startling the boys on the stairs and Christine as she didn't even realize that she was in the hallway.

Staring at your door she wept. For once, truly feeling the regret that she said she had been feeling. She did truly love you, she had not lied about that. To hear you finally say how you weren't enough for her broke her heart.

"Ma..are you okay?" Jason softly asked as Dick went to knock at your door, a bit angry at the way you spoke to his mother,

"Leave her be." A soft voice demanded from the hallway, " Dick, leave her be. Your mother was not the only one hurt in that conversation."

Bruce walked to Christine, and gently lead her to their room.

Upon the commotion outside, no one heard you open your window and slip out.

"It's about time, I almost died waiting for you."

"You can't die, that's your whole thing." You reply, wiping tears from your face.

"You're crying." Wade says in an unnaturally serious voice, " Do I have to kill your hot mom?"

You cringe, " No, just get me out of here."

"I could do that, actually I have a surprise for you~" He sings as he leads you to his taxi...

You heard what sounds like banging coming from the trunk and you're slightly scared to open it.

"Wade.."

"Oh don't be a pussy" He says opening the trunk.

Popping out with a gasp is

"Peter?" You say with a sigh, eyes welling up with tears again. You truly have missed your friends.

"That was not cool Wade!" He shouts, not grasping where he was, " The trunk smelled like nachos and vomit! I couldn't nngh-"

He grunts as you throw yourself into his arms, " Y/n.."

His arms wrap around you tightly, " Y/n what are you.. Where am I?"

"Gotham, now get me the hell out of here."

And with that, you're loaded into the car, taking the backseat with Peter and Wade in the front with an Indian man.

"Y/n this is Dopiender"

"Hello ms. Stark, I promise I will defend you with my life."

"Oh...well, thank you."

"This was surprisingly easy." Wade said as they pulled out of the long driveway, " Bruce Wayne should update his security."

What they didn't know, was that a pair of bright green eyes watched your reunion through the security camera in the Batcave. Squinting as they saw the tears flow freely through your face and noting the license plate and the men you were with.

[battymommastuff]

The Loop [The Last Act]

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: Is it finally over?

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Bruce felt different this time. It wasn't because of his task given to him by Constantine, but the aura in the air was different. It was tense. As usual, he woke up to your side of the bed being empty and the bathroom door closed. 

Instead of waiting for the door to open with your morning greeting, he jumped out of bed. He never thought his stealth skills would be used in his own house, but here he was...sneaking out of his bedroom without making a sound. Bruce wasn't planning on sticking around for long anyways. He was going to destroy the crystal ball, and get out of this loop. 

"Bruce!" He turned around seeing his family...also stealthily moving through the house, "Are we sure this is going to work?" Barbara asked as she tightened her grip on Dick's shoulders. He chose to carry her to maximize their time. 

"There's only one way to find out. We were all in the batcave by the time she made breakfast the first morning. She shouldn't have any suspicions this time." Bruce said and the group made their way down to the batcave. 

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"My darlings? What on earth are you doing?" 

It was as if someone dumped cold water all over them. There you were...standing in front of the very thing they needed to destroy, "Why don't you come upstairs for breakfast?" The tone of your voice wasn't sweet...it wasn't warm. It made everyone feel anxious. It scared them. This simple task had turned into a difficult one. 

"We were just going to dispose of the crystal ball. It has no special purpose, so we don't need to waste space on it." Bruce lied while moving closer to you. He watched you fake smile slowly turn to a frown, "Move, Y/N" He said softly after getting close enough that he could touch you. Even though you were being spoken to in his Batman voice, and he was looking at you with his bat-face...you weren't budging. 

Slowly your eyes started filling with tears as they stared into his, "Come eat breakfast, Bruce." You said softly. If there was one thing in the world that Bruce Wayne hated more than anything, it was seeing his wife crying. Anytime a tear of sadness came from your eyes, he made it his mission to stop anymore from falling. 

Seeing that this wasn't going anywhere, Tim approached the couple, "Mom? Why don't we go eat breakfast?" He offered while wrapping his hand around your arm. Your teary eyes looked at him, and you smiled, "We'll go eat together." He said and started leading you away from Bruce. When you realized that Bruce wasn't following along, you jerked your arm away from Tim. 

"Jason! Duke! Grab her!" Dick said quickly as he passed Barbara off to Cass. They were quick to grab your arms as you lunged for Bruce, "What is wrong with her?!?" Jason asked in a panic as he was struggling to hold you back. You weren't normally this strong. You began screaming in panic as Bruce picked up the crystal ball. Your panic only got worse when he lifted it up and slammed it down. 

The glass shattered, and everything went dark...

In the real world...

John watched as all the sleeping Batfamily member's mouths opened and smoke emerged from them. He lowered his hands down and clenched his fists, "Y/n? Are you ready?!?" He asked and You nodded. Before this last loop, he drew symbols on your hands. It was a temporary spell that anyone could use. John knew he wouldn't have enough power left to open a portal to hell, and send the demon into it. Therefore, he got you to help.

"No...NO! My meal! What have you done!?!" A horrid demon emerged from the smoke. It looked like a living nightmare. Just looking at it had you shaking in terror. That thing was responsible for all of this? 

"You picked the wrong family to feed on. Time to go back home." John said then looked at you. As he told you before, you just held your hands out. The symbols started to glow, and a portal started to form. On the other side, John grabbed the demon and started dragging it to the portal. Its skin felt like wet rubber, and burned. He winced as its claws dug into his skin.

John lifted the little demon up and tossed him into the portal. He watched it fall all the way down until it hit the floor of Hell. The symbols vanished from your hands as well as the portal vanished from the room. 

{}{}{}}{}}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Bruce sat up, with a gasp and looked around. Instead of a warm bed, he was only a cold table with wires attached to his body. On each side of him was one of his kids. They were in a circle, and in the middle was John Constantine, "Well would you look at that? You finally figured it out." John said then grinned. 

Before a word could come out of Bruce's mouth, he was nearly tackled off of the table by you launching yourself onto him, "I thought you would never wake up." You whispered and held your husband close to you. Now he was confused. What was going on? This was all some dream? All the times he watched you die...it wasn't real after all? Once that realization set it, he collapsed against you. The arm that wasn't holding himself up wrapped around you and held you tightly. 

After your tiny reunion, you helped each of your children wake up. Each of them gave you a bone-crushing hug.  Damian almost broke your rib, "The demon possessing the crystal put you all in the coma after you accidentally woke it. I went down to the batcave to get you guys for breakfast, but you were all asleep. Only Duke was awake." You gestured over to Duke, who had gone to get Alfred. 

"Yes, and now that it lost its meal...andddd we've deprived it for so long. It's going to starve to death in hell. Maybe I'll go pay it a visit on your behalf." John said while sitting down. The magic he used took it out on him. Next time something like this happens, he's letting Zatanna take care of it. Hell, he'll even let Dr. Fate take a crack at it. He would be spending his time drinking. 

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Not wanting to be in the way, John left. He left after receiving a hefty amount of money as a thank you gift...if the Wayne's were this generous, then he might be willing to help out a little more. "Are you sure they'll be alright?" You asked worriedly, and rested your hand on Dick's forehead. Being put in a time loop left them all with a serious fatigue, so they were sleeping it off in hospital beds in the batcave. All of them are still connected to wires...just in case. 

"John said they just needed some actual sleep, and then they should be fine, "Duke said while pulling a blanket over Stephanie, "If anything happens, John will be back to help." He watched your shoulders relax a bit. This was one of the worst birthday's you've ever had. Next year, you were banning any missions before your birthday. You didn't care if you had to lock them all up. 

"Ummi?" Damian called out while fighting his sleep. You moved away from Dick, and over to him, "I don't want to sleep." He said even though his yawn contradicted him. 

"Habibi, you need to rest. I promise you'll be alright." You said and sat on the bed with him. He let out another yawn then shook his head. Damian kept trying to fight his sleep, but with you running your fingers through his hair and the sound of you humming a tune...he was out in no time. The song was something he's heard before, but he was too tired to think about where he's heard it before...

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When Damian woke up, he was in his bed. You or Duke must have carried him to his room last night. He quickly got out of his bed and made his way to your bedroom. After everything...he wasn't letting you out of his sight for a long time. When he opened the door, he saw his father looking as pale as a ghost. The door to the bathroom was open, and you were standing in the doorway. You looked from Bruce to Damian and smiled warmly. 

"Good morning, Damian! Are you excited for my birthday breakfast?"

The End.

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[toulousewayne]

🌿🍃Toxic Lover: Pt: I

Nightwing X male!reader with a former team who had become Poison Ivy like meta-human.

Summary:Your a former Titan teammate, you and Dick have unresolved feelings and you become infected with the same toxins and chemicals that turned Poison Ivy into a meta-human.

————————

It was a simple mission. Get in and get out. It wasn’t supposed to go the way it had.

Y/n was a skilled fighter and vigilante, he trained with Black Canary, WildCat, Wonder Woman and the League of Assassins. He operated as solo vigilante since he could remember.

He worked with most of the league and helped them as much as he could. He helped Batman and Robin a lot since he did very similar missions to them. When Dick formed the Titans and went solo as Nightwing he asked Y/n to join him. Y/n worked well with Starfire and Raven, he had fun playing games with Cyborg and Best Boy. He often hung out with Dick and Donna and Wally would visit often too.

Y/n took some time from the team and did solo missions for a while before being called by Dick to help him,Wally and Donna with a rescue mission in Metropolis.

“We just need to find the data bank with the information containing Ivy’s records and research. Luthor was help to gather and stored it in his lab. We need to get the information and destroy any bioweapon schematics.” Dick instructed.

“Anything we should be aware of,”Y/n perked up from his seat in the jet. Donna adjusted her sliver lasso to her waist,”Is Ivy herself involved?”

“As far as Batman’s intel can confirm she’s been missing for the last three months.” He confirms.

“Great so no giant kale bushes to crush us, noted.” Wally quipped. Y/n chuckled as Donna and Dick rolled their eyes.

——-

The Quad split into pairs;Wally and Donna and Dick and Y/n. Donna and Wally took the research offices upstairs meanwhile, Dick and Y/n took the lower levels.

Dick sneak into some of the office while Y/n found a hidden lab. He took photos, and took a flash drive to take the data from the server. He found several vials, tubes and plants on a desk and took photos.

“Nightwing, I’m in this lab. It looks they’ve extracted some of Ivy’s original pheromones and try to weaponize them.”

“I’ll be there soon…kinda busy.” He heard a loud bang and a punch. Y/n turned around to see a scientist and three guards at the doorway.

“Sorry you found this, but unfortunately Mr. Luthor doesn’t what this getting out. Boys don’t let him leave.” The scientist quickly fled as the guards moved in.

“Sorry lapdogs,but I’m leaving with the drive.” Y/n sprang into action and started fighting.

“It’s a trap,you have to get out of that room.” Nightwing’s voice filed the hero’s ear. Y/n managed to take out two goons but the last one was the biggest and blocked the only exit. He rushed Y/n and managed to forcefully shove him into the computer and servers. Knocking Y/n off his balance and disorienting him. He had cuts on his faces and blood trickled from his lip.Then, while he was stunned he took him and threw him into the desk with vitals and pheromones.

The two guard got the their feet and assisted in beating him to a pulp. Y/n was loosing his consciousness and went in and out. “..Dick—help.” He winced.

The large goon took the remaining vitals and smashed them over the hero. He threw the plant cart on him too and took out a lighter.

“Mr. Luthor sends his regards.” He threw the lighter at the spilled chemical and engulfed the room in flames.

——

The fire spread through out the facility and Nightwing managed to find the source. Toria and Flash managed to get to him but the flames were to high.

“We need to save him!” Nightwing tried to go towards the labs but Toria stopped him.

“You can’t go in there you’ll die!” He tried to push her but she wasn’t budgeting. Tears streaming down his face he begged his friends.

“Please, we have to try, please.” Wally nodded.”Get him to the surface I’ll try to get to Y/n. Go now!” He barked. Toria grabbed Nightwing and sped out of the lower levels as Flash created tornados to clear up the flames.

—-

Dick set on the jet without his mask, tears, bruises, and soot. Donna stood guard watching as the building’s flames were put out by firefighters. Wally entered the vessel with a stretcher with a white sheet on top.The form on it was Y/n’s body. Dick didn’t say a word as more tears formed in his eyes.

“It’s all my fault.” He hissed. Donna placed a hand on his shoulder,”It’s not Dick, you can’t blame—“

“It is. I asked him to come, I asked both of you to come and it nearly killed you all. I—l..” Dick broke down in tears and shouted. He rocked hisself and sob and Donna comforted him. Wally placed a hand on his other shoulder and talked him through it.

——-

Dick sat in his seat at the cemetery in Gotham. The small crowd of heroes dressed in black one by one left the small private ceremony for Y/n. Dinah gave a worried look at Dick whose gaze hadn’t left the spot where Y/n’s casket had been lowered into the earth and covered with fresh soil.

Bruce stood next to her and they didn’t speak right away but Dinah broke the silence. “Diana told me what happened from Donna. He hasn’t been the same.” Bruce didn’t reply.

“Well he be okay?” She hummed. Bruce turned to his friend and looked back at his son.”They were in love Dinah, it was obvious to most of us but not them. I’m not sure he if knew he loved Y/n as more than a friend, but I know he won’t stop until he can give him justice.”

“You think he’ll kil-“

“I hope not but I can only help him through this, I’ve learned a long time ago to not try to pressure him into a decision.” He walked to Dick and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Let’s go son.”

——-

Y/n saw his life flash before his eyes during his attack. Between each rib being fractured, another punch to the back, or kick to the stomach he felt his favorite memories flood his eyes.

From training the younger members of Young Justice with Dick’s little brother the third Robin, game nights with the Titans, going to a concert with Dick he practically dragged him to.

That concert was the best night of his life he felt so carefree, not birdied with the responsibilities of being a more experienced hero. Not feeling like he couldn’t tell his best friend how he truly felt, and just watch from a distance as he went out dates with other girls or laughed with the guys at games nights.

Y/n knew he was in deep shit from the moment he met the Last Flying Grayson, and he didn’t care.

The band was one he like since he was in Middle school,and he begged Dick for weeks to go with him, eventually he agreed to go because he felt bad for missing so many plans to help his family with their own missions.

“I hope they aren’t a snooze fest because I could have stayed home and listened to Tim explain Quant-Time travel.” He joked as Y/n pulled on his hoodie he just purchased.

He shoved his shoulders,”Don’t even Grayson these guys are the best. You’re not gonna regret it. Plus, don’t act like you don’t love Timmy’s rambles.” Y/n fired back.

He held his hands in surrender. “Hey I had to think of something.” Y/n took Dick’s hand and dragged him into the arena just as the music blared through the speakers. Y/n was unaware of the crimson color that painted Dick’s face. And to busy to notice the stole glances Dick took through the night.

—-

The smell of smoke burned Y/n’s nostrils and he chocked on it. But the blood in his mouth took out some of the harsh smells. The flames were roaring in the room and shortly everything began to spin. Y/n barely regained consciousness before everything swiftly went to black.

Then it went Green.

The green light became paler and paler and the sound of a heartbeat echoed. Almost in slow motion. Most of the light became closer too. Became bright white and the sounds of Gotham City came hard and fast like a gunshot.

Y/n stood up in the middle of the street and he noticed something wasn’t right. The last thing he remembered was dying in Metropolis and now he’s in old Gotham. To his left was the build up of traffic and to his right was Gotham Cemetery. He tried to move but fell to the ground.

“The fuck.” His hoarse voice choked out. He noticed his arms were covered in slime of some kind and leaves. He saw a small puddle and took a glance at his reflection. His face was the same but more beautiful, sharper features, deep green iris, and fuller lips.

“Hey freak,get outta the way!” A voice shouted and honked his horned.

Y/n snapped his head up and grew easily frustrated,his head was still spinning and blaring horn was causing more pain.

“Ugh, can’t you be idiotic somewhere else.” With his hand on the ground it began to shake and large vines jumped through the concrete and began to crush the car. The driver managed to get out before it was crushed to pieces. Y/n slowly got to his feet and stumbled.

“That’s new.” Several other drivers fled their cars and screams. Two officers drew their weapons and order Y/n to freeze. Something in Y/n slowly turned and began to change in his feelings toward the police.

“Freeze Freak!” The older officer hisses,Y/n cocks his head to the side with smirk.

“Pathetic pigs, you never appreciate the things you take for granted. You worthless meat sacks.”

The two officers look at each other,”Meat-what?” It’s short lived as vines bursted through the growing and take them prisoner. Y/n strolls over to them. He chuckles.

“Mother Earth wouldn’t be to proud of you. Nature will always win.” He takes his nails and scratches both across the face and then plants begin to grow out their faces and they gag. More large vines rise and take Y/n underground.

—————

He re-emerges in the old Gotham Greenhouse in Robinson Park. More vines and flowers bloom in the old building giving it a new look. The old overgrown plants become green and flourish again with life.

“Men have ruined you, I don’t know what yet, I know can revive you. But I promise you will be avenged. I am Mother Nature’s new branch and I will take Gotham first then, we will cleanse the rest of this planet.” He laughs to himself before the sound of glass shatters.

He worlds around to see Nightwing.

“Y/n,what happened to you. You were dead.” Y/n felt conflicted. On one hand he wanted run to Dick and get his help, but on the other hand he wanted to crush him and turn him into mulch.

Nightwing drew closer, “This isn’t you N/N. I don’t know what happened in the last 72 hours but you aren’t yourself. I can help you but you have to let me.” His voice was strained like his had been yelling or not speaking. It didn’t go unnoticed but something in Y/n didn’t care and he was constantly fighting a battle within himself.

“Dick—what?”

“I can help you,Y/n you have to understand I care about you. But you have to stop.” Nightwing earpiece buzzed and Y/n could heard the voice of Robin from a nearby plant. The words: Cops. Killed. Poisoned. Y/n.

Nightwing turned to him with a blank expression and a tighter grip on his weapons.

“Y/n, let me take you get help. I promise I won’t let anyone harm you.” His voice wasn’t as raw as it was. It was stern yet cautious.

The switch in Y/n flipped and the smirk and sultry voice returned.

“Dick, join me,” he persuades, “Become my Adam and help me flourish this place into a new garden. Just for the two of use.”

Nightwing took a defensive stanch. “Can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The last part was a whisper but Y/n caught it.

“Well then I’m sorry too.” With the flick of his wrist and two large flowers sprouted. The plants around Nightwing were now healthily and quickly attacked him.

Y/n rose several feet in the air on a seat of large leaves and petals. Nightwing dodged the vines but is eventually became captured after miscalculating a step after trying to not harm Y/n.

He’s wrapped in vines and is unable to move. The vines bring him closer to Y/n who purrs.

He runs a thumb across Dick’s lips. “I never noticed.” He whispered.

“What?” Dick huffed. Y/n takes his face and brings it closer. He has a soft smile and Dick is conflicted.

“How much I wanted to do this.” He kisses Dick. He tries break free of his binds but after a few moments he stops and kisses back and soon the kiss deepens and Y/n has to stop. He places his forehead against Dick’s and sighs.

Dick’s eyes are glossed over and his blue eyes are a pale green.

“Dick?”

“Yes, my Love?” He says deadpans. Y/n sighs to himself and releases him.

The virus in Y/n grows stronger. And he laughs to himself.

“We have a few housewarming gifts to give out. Fetch them for me Darlin.” Nightwing mindless obeys and leaves Y/n who glances at his appearance in the water fountain for the first time noticing the torn up suit he was buried in.

“It’s time for a new Harvest.”

[wolfjackle-creates]

Please tell me that with 'Johnny and Kitty pocess Superman and Batman' That they are either on a date or go on a date after a fight? Please this needs to happen

@britcision also asked about this one!

So I was looking through what I wrote of this and...it's not that good. It's based on a prompt from back in Nov 2022 and I was still figuring things out back then and needed to rewrite everything I wrote at least once. It's less crack than you'd expect from the title, I'm afraid.

So I'm gonna do part of that rewrite. Because I'm insane and don't have self control. 🤣

Anyway, the prompt is from @zeestarfishalien and can be found here. Oddly it doesn't have half as many notes as I remember it having. Huh. Guess I thought it had more because I latched onto it so strongly.

Anyway, enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

"Danny!" yelled Jazz from downstairs.

Danny froze for just a moment. That was Jazz's something-is-wrong voice. He dropped through the floor to get to her that much quicker. "What happened?" he demanded.

She just pointed to the TV where a news reporter was standing in a city. Behind her, Batman stood next to the open driver's side door to the batmobile while Superman floated in the air a few feet away with his arms crossed.

"Don't look at me like that, baby," said Batman.

"I will look at you however the hell I want. You forgot our date, asshole!" yelled Superman back.

The reporter grinned at the camera. "Looks like quite the lover's tiff we've stumbled upon! Who would have ever suspected Batman and Superman of being in a relationship?"

Behind her, Superman used his heat vision to shoot at Batman who cursed loudly before jumping into his car and speeding off. Superman huffed and flew in the opposite direction. Jazz muted the TV while the reporter continued making speculations about Batman and Superman's relationship. Danny stared at Jazz in horror.

"That was—"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it was."

Danny closed his eyes and thought about the half finished essay he had upstairs and the history test he had the next day and how his parents would be home in an hour. He wanted to cry.

"I have to go to Gotham."

"I'll take care of our parents. Have you had the flu yet this year?"

Danny's laugh had a hysterical edge to it. "Tuck's been keeping track of my excuses. Ask him. I'll just…" Danny let the sentence trail as he transformed and flew out of the house without another word.

Even flying as fast as he could, he didn't arrive in Gotham until night had fallen. He tried to sense Johnny or Kitty or listen for the chaos that always followed them, but the city was so big.

After over half an hour of searching with no luck, Danny was sitting on a roof with his head buried in his knees trying not to cry. He only had so many hours before he had to be back in Amity for school. If he missed any more days, he'd get a suspension and his parents would be livid.

Just then, the clock tower chimed ten. Danny lifted his head to look at the tall building, one of the tallest in the city. He might not have any idea how to find Batman, but surely the other heroes would. Maybe he could get their attention?

In a matter of minutes, he was floating above the clock tower. With a deep breath, he shot an ectoblast up into the sky. Two minutes later, he repeated the action.

Not long after his fifth blast, two grapple hooks attached to the tower near his feet and seconds later he was facing Batman and Robin.

Danny immediately fell into a fighting stance. "Johnny, I'm not going to let you get away with this. Get out of him. Now."

But instead of calling him a do-gooder nerd, Batman pulled out a batarang and held it ready to throw. "I'm not this Johnny," he growled.

Danny relaxed and sighed in relief. "Oh thank the ancients, you got him out. I'm so, so sorry, Batman! I know you and the Justice League are relying on me to keep the ghosts from escaping Amity. Johnny and Kitty must’ve gotten past me. How'd you get Johnny out? Were you able to help Superman? Kitty is at least reasonable most of the time so I hope she didn't give you any trouble. Where are they now? I'll just collect them and bring them back to the Realms."

Robin pulled out his sword and pointed it at Danny. "What do you know of Fa— Batman's condition? Who is this 'Johnny' you speak of?"

Danny's core stuttered in his chest. The kid couldn't mean… He looked past the blade pointed at him towards Batman. "You… aren't Batman. Are you? You're covering for him while Johnny is overshadowing the real one."

Batman put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Lower the sword, Robin." To Danny, he said, "I think you owe us some explanations."

Danny buried his head in his hands and tried to bite back the tears. He was so tired. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. They got past me and I failed. I'm so sorry."

“Desist with your groveling and explain!” ordered Robin.

“Right, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” Danny looked up, but the stars were hidden behind smog and lights. He sighed. “I’m Phantom, of course. Responsible for monitoring the portal in Amity and keeping ghosts from coming through and causing problems on Earth. Also for stopping human hunters from hurting any ghosts. Johnny and Kitty, two ghosts, must have gotten past me. I’m careful, I swear. We set up an alarm on the portal so I know the moment someone comes through, but I missed them somehow. I…maybe they came through at the same time as someone else? I’ve had to deal with Skulker and Boxy so far this week. And Queen Dora came for a visit and one of Pandora’s people stopped by to drop something off. So if Johnny and Kitty came through at the same time… Pariah curse it, I should’ve realized. What a stupid design flaw. I’ll be working on a fix for that as soon as I get out of school tomorrow. I’d do it sooner, but I’ve a test you see. And if I miss any more class, I’ll get a suspension, and then my parents really will kill me again.”

Danny winced when he saw Robin’s fingers twitch towards his sword again. “Sorry! No more excuses. It’ll be fixed ASAP, promise. Um, Johnny is generally into motorcycles, but I think he saw the Batmobile and wanted to take it for a ride so he overshadowed Batman. From what I saw on the news, he blew off a date with Kitty to do it so she’s pissed and followed him and ended up overshadowing Superman. Probably so she could use his powers on top of her own to punish Johnny.” He trailed off and waited for the yelling to start.

But they were silent.

Danny shifted from foot to foot. “Again, I’m really sorry. I know you rely on me to keep this from happening and I swear it won’t again. But if you tell me where you think Batman is, I’ll go retrieve Johnny. Same with Superman and Kitty. I need to get this wrapped up by four, maybe four thirty, so I can get home in time for school to start.” He couldn’t hold back a yawn. He just wanted to sleep.

Batman and Robin exchanged a glance and Batman put away his weapon. “I’ve never heard of you or this Amity before. You’re a kid, who is your Justice League mentor? Why aren’t they here?”

“I… What? Justice League mentor? What are you talking about? All of my mentors are ghosts.”

Robin snorted. “Who informed you that it was your responsibility to monitor this portal that allows these ghosts to invade? Why are you the only one preventing attacks such as this?”

Danny bristled. “I’m not alone! Sam and Tucker and my sister help me!”

“Are they kids like you?” asked Batman.

“If by like me you mean ghosts, of course not. They’re fully alive. I’m the only ghost of the group.”

“No,” said Batman after a pause. “That’s not what I meant. I wanted to know if they were teenagers who still go to school like you or if they were adults you worked with.”

Danny shrugged. “Jazz is starting college next year, but yeah. They’re my friends.”

Batman let out a long breath. “Right. And why do you think the Justice League is expecting you, specifically, to monitor this portal?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Because you told me that!” He saw Batman open his mouth to say something and quickly added, “Not you specifically, but, like, the League. This guy Constantine came by a month or two after the portal opened and saw me and relaxed. Said he was glad to see I was already handling things there. Gave me a number and laughed and said if anyone could handle the situation, it’d be me, but I could call if I needed back up.” He shrugged. “And he was right. So far I have been able to handle it. This is an exception and I’ll get it fixed in a few hours tops.”

Robin ground his teeth. “That lazy magician.”

Batman also muttered something under his breath. “Thank you, Phantom. For doing so much on your own. If you tell us how to free Batman and Superman, we can handle it from here.”

“What?” Danny shook his head in confusion. “What are you talking about? You need specialized weapons that I don’t have on me and containment devices and access to a portal to the Realms to get rid of them. Seriously, I can get this taken care of. Just tell me where Batman is.”

Batman sighed again. “We don’t have much of a choice. Fine. But will you be able to get us these weapons and containment devices if we requested some of you? We’ll pay you, of course. And we’d like more details on what you’ve been dealing with. I’m afraid Constantine… did not share the details of your dealings with the rest of us.”

“Yeah, sure. The weapons are made by Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton of FentonWorks, based out of Amity Park, Illinois. Their son Danny can help you pick out the most useful ones. Some are more torture device than anything, though, so definitely avoid those. Danny will be able to tell you the difference.”

Batman nodded once, jaw clenched. “Thank you. Now, I’ve just gotten an update on the possessed Batman’s location. Follow us.”

-----

Dick is pretending to be Batman here. If they have a "normal" batman out, then they can show the possessed batman is an imposter.

I saw some debate on the original over whether Johnny would possess Batman or Superman. To me, the answer was obvious. He'd possess Batman because he wanted to take the Batmobile for a spin.

Meanwhile, Kitty is the smart one. She'd go for Superman because then she could use his powers and her own to 1) punish Johnny and 2) prevent anyone from stopping them.

Regarding Constantine: He made an oops, but it's not (fully) his fault. Due to time missions from Clockwork, Phantom is shown to be thousands of years old and is known for fantastic feats. If Constantine had known this was some fourteen year old newly dead kid, he'd have acted differently. Instead, he thinks Danny is older than he is with millenia of experience.

This is free for anyone to continue!

[envysparkler]

Jason might’ve mentioned a passing interest in meeting Robin—the old Robin, because he was going to be the new Robin, only judging from the low, furious conversation and the death glares, Bruce hadn’t exactly mentioned that to Nightwing—but he wasn’t expecting Bruce to leave him alone with the guy.

“Justice League emergency,” Bruce had interrupted, cutting off Dick’s half-hearted tour of the parts of the Cave Jason hadn’t explored, and disappeared through a zeta tube with a simple behave for Jason and a growled watch over him for Dick.  Leaving Jason with the guy that spent the entire visit seething in unconcealed distaste.

Alfred wasn’t home, he had left on one of his rare days off, or perhaps he was aware of the cloud of tension that formed whenever Dick and Bruce got too close to each other, and Jason understood that heroes and emergencies were a part of life, but he didn’t enjoy that that meant that Jason and Dick were left alone in the abruptly resoundingly empty Cave.

“Right,” Dick muttered, not quite under his breath, “I don’t know why I ever expect anything different.”  The bitterness was palpable.  “Two and half goddamn hours, and he leaves to space.”

Jason shrunk back slightly.  It had been clear from the start that this visit was not for him, and his desire to meeting the original Robin had fast dwindled in favor of getting out of ground zero before Bruce and Dick actually started yelling.

Dick blew out a sharp breath and turned on his heel, suddenly enough that Jason flinched.  Dick froze, staring at him like he’d forgotten that Jason existed.  Jason couldn’t read the expression on his face, and didn’t think he wanted to.

“Jason,” Dick said, carefully pronouncing his name.  His blue eyes were sharp and cold.  “So.  New Robin, huh.”  His face stretched into a smile that looked warm for all that it was plastic.

“Yup,” Jason said, inching back another step.  “Uh, it was nice to meet you.  I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Where are you going?”  Perfectly level, calm and even, but it still forced a chill down his spine.

Jason had been terrified of Batman, but terrified in the way he was of shadows and ghosts.  Abstract.  Not real.  Once Batman had proved himself to be human, all that was left was a man—large and trained and dangerous, but who got scolded by his butler and forgot to put on matching socks and bought Jason a stepstool to reach the books on the tallest shelves.

Bruce wasn’t scary.

Not the way that Richard Grayson seemed to be.  Quicksilver manipulation of his expressions, smiling when he didn’t mean it, and cold, cold eyes—Jason wasn’t reminded of monsters or demons.  He was reminded of the gang members that watched him ducking into alleys with just a little too much intent, the narrowed eyes of his mother’s dealer, the bright, fake smiles that marked the cops he had to run from.

And Jason was here with him, all alone.  Robin—Nightwing—trained and dangerous and currently looking at Jason like he wanted to leave him in pieces for Bruce to find.

Jason had read a book with facts about robins just last week.  Robins are territorial birds, and disputes can get physical.  Fights to the death often occur.

“Upstairs?”  Jason hated the way it turned into a question.  “I was reading a book, and—um, I wanted to finish it?”

“We haven’t finished our tour,” Dick said, and Jason had preferred the low-voiced hiss to the casual neutrality.  “Come on, there’s lots of cool stuff here I bet Bruce hasn’t shown you yet.”

Jason dithered in place, casting a glance at the stairs—Dick was already walking away, heading for the back of the Cave—but as much as common sense was shrieking at him to stay away, go upstairs, don’t stay down in the dimly lit cave with the guy that hates you, Jason was still the kid that looked at the Batmobile and decided to steal some tires.

“Fine,” Jason said, hurrying up to match Dick’s pace.  “But I don’t know what you can show me that Bruce hasn’t already.”

“Oh,” Dick’s expression twitched, something flashing for a second, “You’d be surprised.”

~#~

Jason, mouth agape and neck protesting as he stared up at the acrobatics equipment, was speechless.  Dick was breathless and flushed and grinning widely, and fuck, this was what Jason had wanted to see.  Not Bruce’s sulky other son, or the cold, dangerous Nightwing, but Robin.

“Bruce showed you that yet?” Dick teased, calling down to him from where he was swinging upside down from the ring.

“How do you do that?” Jason breathed out, too amazed to feign at disinterest.  Dick had moved like he was an actual fucking bird, like gravity was for lesser things.

“Practice,” Dick laughed, flipping off from the ring and flopping down on the safety net.  Even across the rope, he was all fluidity and grace, flipping once more before he reached the ground.

“Bullshit,” Jason rebutted, looking up at the silks and the ropes and the swings, the scaffolding, the way Dick flew—“Tell me the truth. You’re a meta, aren’t you.”

Dick laughed again, bright and twinkling.  He looked much happier than the sullen teenager that had met Bruce’s hesitant hope with a scowl.  “Nope, just practice.  Grew up in the circus.  I could fly before I could run.”

“That’s so cool,” Jason said, looking back up at the scaffolding.  “Can you teach me how to do that?”  Flying through the air, spinning and flipping without a care in the world, unbound by physical constraints…it sounded like the best thing in the world.  It sounded like freedom.

It took him too long to realize that Dick hadn’t responded.  He turned towards the older boy and saw Dick stock still, expression frozen in a pinched grimace.  When he saw Jason staring at him, he turned away.  “Sure,” Dick said, in a voice that wasn’t even remotely believable, and Jason flushed at the reminder that Dick didn’t want him here.  “Maybe later.  You need a lot of training first.  How about you show me what Bruce is teaching you so far?”

There was a bite to the words, and Jason had too much of Gotham in him to not respond to the challenge.  “Was that an offer to kick your ass?” Jason retorted, stalking past Dick and towards the sparring area.  Need a lot of training first.  Well, while perfect Richard Grayson had been growing up in the goddamn circus, Jason had been living on the streets.  He knew how to fight.  “I’m ready when you are, Dick.”

That cold smile was back, like Dick was trying to figure out just where he wanted to stick the knife, and Jason thrummed impatiently on the balls of his feet as Dick slowly made his way to the sparring area.

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap 7

masterpost

Tim had one major takeaway about his experience when he got back to the right part of town and could stop looking over his shoulder for the Sausage Guy: He had to get better at this. 

Tim went right back to his hideout and then into the secret hideout portion, determined. He knew himself. There would be lots of useful information on the computer.

It took a while to find anything. But he was right. There was a treasure trove of information. There were years worth of mission reports, and there were multiple procedural handbooks. 

Batman apparently released one every autumn. Tim started printing them, and then looked at the much shorter Young Justice handbook. That seemed approachable. 

He read through that on the computer while the printer was still whirring away. It was only 21 pages long. Tim crunched on an apple in one hand and used the other to scroll down the side progress bar. This was all pretty simple. A lot of it wasn’t relevant to him because it was about the chain of command and coordination, but there were some interesting things about personal discretion and mission security. There were also some interesting implications vis-a-vis the color coding and graphic design for each section, which Tim could only assume was meant to hold the attention of an audience for whom the length would be challenging.

Once he finished that, he gathered up the most recent Batman procedural handbook and stapled it carefully into a neat and portable workbook. He took the indexes for each earlier edition as well so that he could easily cross-reference what he might need to look in another year's handbook for. He also found an empty notebook and some writing utensils. Then he dragged it all upstairs.

He put it on the table. Tim pressed his lips together pretty hard and hummed. It was a lot of paper. He probably needed a juice break.

He took care of that first. He spotted lunch meat while he had the fridge open and his stomach growled at him. Fair enough! Tim made a sandwich and ate it while he read and took notes on stakeouts. 

There were some areas for improvement on what he’d done. He took a few notes of what he really needed to remember. Then he turned back to the beginning of the handbook to read it through properly.

“Huh,” Tim said, squinting at the red all-caps admonition to never access these materials outside of a Bat-approved hideout or to print them. “Well, you should have told me before.” He ignored that and settled in with a pink highlighter for a long read. He had no idea how much time had passed, but it was all dark outside. The only light was the sickly glow from streetlights.

“Proximity alert,” said an unknown voice.

Tim jumped halfway out of his skin and looked around wildly. About a moment later he registered that the voice was kinda robotic sounding. “Where?” he asked stupidly. 

“External wall proximity alert,” said the robot.

His heart rate jumped up again. He accidentally dropped all his papers when he stood up. Tim started gathering them again and then realized no, he didn’t have time for this. He breathed heavily and looked around for an answer. What did he do?

“Initiating shutdown,” the voice said pleasantly. “In 3, 2, 1.”

Metal shutters slid down over the windows. Tim whirled around at the sound of thuds all over the apartment. It was dark inside. After moment emergency lighting turned on, soft red lights at ankle height that he had never noticed before. That was the only light source aside from what he forgot on in the kitchen.

The only sound for a few seconds was his own harsh breathing. Tim swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around himself. Was this ok? Did that shutdown mean he was safe from whoever was trying to get in? Maybe he could just wait it out. He tried to slow down his breathing. It didn’t work. His head felt kinda swimmy. He swallowed hard and stumbled towards a window. He couldn’t see anything, obviously, but maybe he could listen and figure out who it was. 

Despite thinking that, he jumped straight up when someone banged a fist against the metal shutter. 

“Let me in, bird boy!” came a female voice. She paused. “Let us in, it’s me and the Big Bird.”

Big Bird? Like, the yellow giant bird with the huge claws? It was real?

He felt like he was going to throw up.

Why was Big Bird at his house? And why was Big Bird real? Was Big Bird a predator? Tim started crying a little. Why was Big Bird trying to break into his house? He kept each sniffle silent, petrified that Big Bird was going to hear him. They didn’t actually know that he was in there. 

“You’re in trouble, Mister,” she continued. “Answer your phone sometimes!” She hit the window again. Tim put his hands over his mouth to keep as quiet as possible and hiccuped. 

‘I’m in trouble and she brought the bird to punish me.’ Tim dropped to the floor and hunched together as small as possible, butt touching his heels and arms wrapped around his shins. He buried his head in between his knees. ‘What did I do? Is this- is this because I blocked Robin’s messages? Why does this lady even know about that?’

“Timmy Tim Tim,” sang a new voice. Male. Pleasant. Tim hunched inwards even further. “This is a wellness check!”

A buzzer went off, harsh and ugly and loud. Two shrieks issued from the window.

Tim raised his tear-stained face to stare in confusion.

“Ah- O, come on-”

“My ears oh my god my ears are broken-”

The two strangers talked over each other for a few confusing moments. Big Bird still hadn’t said anything. Tim remembered just how big Big Bird actually was and he started crying a little. He didn’t want to meet Big Bird.

“Fi- Alright, alright. Bye!” The female voice had a distinctly harassed tone to it now. There was a scuffle against the metal covering the window. 

Then there was silence. It really did seem like they left. But maybe they were just waiting for him to make a noise. Tim waited and shuddered, scared they were going to come back. 

A soft beeping started up in the kitchen. 

‘...Did I leave something on?’ Tim wiped his face off with a wrist and rose. He gave the window one last look before he shuffled away.

When he entered the room, the kitchen’s water dispenser flashed at him. Then a voice came out of it. 

“Sorry about that, I didn’t realize they were heading over. I would have given you a heads-up.”

“How are you in my fridge?” Tim asked, indignant. He made a way-too-loud wet sound from his nose by accident. 

The lights in the room spun through a color change. “I am in everything,” the lady intoned.

That was when he placed the voice. “Thanks, Oracle,” Tim said.

“You’re welcome.” There was a pause. He knew that she was still there. Tim sniffled and wiped at his face again. It occurred to him too late that she might be able to see him. “Have you reached out to any magical specialists to fix this?” she asked casually, as if she hadn’t clearly been thinking over what she’d say.

Tim shook his head no and said nothing, testing to see if she could see him.

She breathed out a gust of static. “I think that the situation is affecting you,” Oracle said frankly. “Can I call Zatanna? We need you back on your cases and I can’t keep the birds out forever. They’re getting worried.”

…Tim had a suspicion that birds might actually not mean ‘birds’ in this context. 

He didn’t know anything, though. He was such a dummy. He didn’t know how to do his job and he was ruining Big Tim’s life, and he had made people so mad that they’d come and shut down his house. As he was thinking that, a soft whirring started up and the metal plating covering all his windows started to retract. 

“I think that help would be good,” Tim admitted defeat. He needed to go back to elementary school and become the Tim who could handle his adult life. He clearly wasn’t qualified for it. 

“Oh. Great.” Oracle paused again. Was he not supposed to say yes?  She recovered quickly. “I’ll get right on that. Have a good night. And go to bed!”

Tim stuck his tongue out as the connection ended. The lights went off on his fridge when Oracle went away.

[fickle-tiction]

For Old Time’s Sake

“Ladies and Gentleman, I think Batman might be down for the count.” Clark was pretending to hold a microphone up to his mouth and speaking into it like he was an announcer. “Ohhhh! Nope! He’s up! That is going to hurt tomorrow.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth pulls up into a smile at Clark’s antics as he circles Diana on the sparring mat. He dodges left as she makes a grab for him, grabbing her arm and using her own momentum to flip her over his back.

“And down goes Wonder Woman!”

Bruce drapes his body over Diana’s to try and pin her down, but she quickly reverses their positions and has Bruce in an armbar before he can even blink.

“I thought we said no powers.” Bruce grunts, trying to free his arm to no avail.

“I can’t help that I’m stronger than you.” 

Bruce lets out a growl, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he uses every bit of training he can remember and slips out of Diana’s hold. He springs to his feet and is about to execute a flying kick when a voice catches him off guard and has him freezing in his tracks.

“You’re getting slow, old man.”

Bruce whirls around to see his second oldest son standing at the edge of the mat, arms folded across his chest as he watches the match.

“Jason?” Bruce asks before a strong pair of thighs wrap around his neck and slam him down onto the mat. Bruce wheezes as the wind is knocked out of him and doesn’t bother fighting the hold. He merely taps Diana’s thigh twice in quick succession and she releases him.

“Wonder Woman wins again! And the crowd goes wild! Ahhhhhhh!”

“Is everything okay?” Bruce asks, eyes on his son even as he accepts Diana’s hand up.

“Alfred said you were down here training.” That didn’t explain why he was at the house in the first place, but Bruce wasn’t going to push. “I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you get your ass kicked. I had no idea Wonder Woman would be here.” Jason barreled straight past Bruce to get to Diana, a charming smile on his face that Bruce couldn’t remember ever seeing. “It’s so great to meet you. I’m Jason.”

Diana let out a soft gasp of delight as she shook hands with Bruce’s son. “Diana. We have heard so much about you. It is wonderful to finally meet you!”

“Hey Jason, I’m Clark.” Clark also shook hands with Bruce’s son, reveling in this rare glimpse into their friend's personal life.

“I can’t believe you’re friends with Wonder Woman and Superman.” Jason directed at Bruce. “Seriously, why do you guys hang out with him?” This last bit was naturally directed at Clark and Diana.

Clark barked out a surprised laugh. “For his winning personality.” Bruce scowled, and Clark nodded in his direction with a grin. “Obviously.”

Jason snorted and Diana tsk’d, swatting at Clark’s arm even though she was clearly trying not to laugh too.

“Okay.” Bruce said loudly, clapping his hands together to capture everyone’s attention. “The three of you meeting is a terrible idea.” Clark and Diana’s favorite pastime seemed to be teasing Bruce, and them teaming up with Jason was just asking for trouble. It would be best to kick Clark and Diana out and herd Jason upstairs for tea with Alfred. “Break it up. Everyone out.”

Jason gasps, clutching his chest, and Bruce’s attention is once again zeroed in on him. “You’d kick out your own son?” Bruce’s brain temporarily goes offline when Jason says the S word, despite his teasing tone.

“I---” Bruce may be a man of few words, but he is never at a loss for words. Until now. He knows Jason is just teasing him, but things are still so rocky between the two of them and he’s always afraid of overstepping and scaring Jason off.

“Of course not.” Clark says forcefully, clapping a hand on both Bruce and Jason’s shoulders. Clark didn’t know Bruce especially well, but he did know that he wasn’t the best at expressing himself and he clearly didn’t mean he was going to kick Jason out. He probably just wanted some alone time with what was clearly a surprise visit from his son. Bruce kept his personal life close to his chest; Clark and Diana were surprised he even invited them to the cave to spar in the first place. “We were just finishing up here. You two go catch up. We can show ourselves out.”

“And miss me wiping the floor with him?” Jason’s grin is cocky but his posture is stiff, as though he’s afraid Bruce might really kick him out...or that Clark and Diana might leave him alone with Bruce. “That is, if you’re up for it Old Man.”

Bruce resists the urge to call for Alfred to check his blood for traces of toxins; even though this clearly must be some kind of hallucination. Jason is here. In the cave. And he wants to spend time with him. (Sure, by “Spend time with him” he means spar with him and inflict damage on him, but he would take what he could get.) This must be a new strain of Scarecrow’s toxin.

Bruce mentally shakes those thoughts off, knowing he’s being paranoid and that he is in real danger of chasing his son away with his paranoid thought process. “You really think you can take me?” He asks, mimicking Jason’s cocky smirk and throwing in a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not a skinny 15 year old anymore.” Bruce buried down the burning guilt that rose at those words. He knew Jason wasn’t trying to taunt him, and was just making friendly trash talk. Those were his own issues to deal with, and he would bury them until he had time to sort them out. Preferably in 20-30 years when he was a crazy old man wandering around the manor alone and could properly express his emotions. 

“First one to tap out wins?” Bruce suggested.

“You’re on.”

They shake hands in the middle of the mat; Diana and Clark cleared off to the edges at some point in their exchange but Bruce couldn’t spare them more than a passing thought. Someone went “Ding ding ding” and then Jason was lunging at him.

“What the hell have you been eating?” Bruce grunted, rolling out from under Jason’s bulk and pressing a knee into the small of his back to try and keep him down.

Jason’s only response was a snort of laughter. He managed to get his arms under himself and surged up, sending Bruce toppling off his back. Bruce popped up before Jason had a chance to pin him down, and Jason had to throw himself out of the way of the foot that came flying at his stomach.

They danced around each other for the next few minutes, each throwing the occasional punch or kick. Clark kept up a constant stream of narration and Diana alternated who she was rooting for seemingly at random. Bruce couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he ducked and weaved.

“What was that move you used to do all the time?” Jason asked, ducking the fist that came flying at his face as soon as he finished speaking.

“Elaborate.” Bruce did a back flip to avoid Jason’s attempt at grabbing him.

“You know the one.” Jason’s tone should have been setting off warning bells, but Bruce was too busy trying to avoid being tackled to the ground by 250 pounds of solid muscle to pick up on it. “What if the mugger has a knife?” He asked in a passable imitation of Bruce’s Batman Growl.

Bruce’s eyes went wide and he just barely managed to dance out of Jason’s reach at the last possible second. “Jason.”

“Batman is bringing out the Dad Voice. Something serious is about to go down people.” 

“You have to be prepared for anything, B.” And then Jason got his arms around him and Bruce’s life flashed before his eyes. 

Okay. Maybe Clark and Diana were onto something when they called Bruce a Drama Queen.

“You’re dead.” Jason growls, jamming his fingers into Bruce’s ribs and wiggling them wildly. Bruce clamps his mouth shut, focusing all of his energy on trying to escape from what is essentially a bear hug from his hulk of a son.

“J-Jay.” He grits out, breathing heavy through his nose when Jason starts pinching around the spot where his abs faded into his sides. His whole body jolting when strong fingers start prodding at taut muscles.

“Come on Big Bird, if you can’t escape this how will you defend against the real thing?” Jason taunted, pinching up and down Bruce’s muscled sides.

“No way.” Clark breathed, the sound completely drowned out by the laugh being ripped out of Bruce’s lungs.

“Sh-hihihihi-it!” The dam breaks when Jason’s fingers find the sweet spot at the bottom of Bruce’s ribs. “Not-not there!” Bruce laughs, trying to curl his body forward. Jason’s arms crisscrossed over his chest don’t let him go anywhere, so Bruce does the next best thing his tickle-rattled brain can think of. He throws all of his considerable weight backwards, knocking Jason off-balance and sending the two of them crashing to the mats.

Bruce wastes no time catching his breath, flipping around and pinning Jason to the mat. “Oh-ho.” Bruce laughs at the alarmed look in Jason’s eyes. “You’re in for it now.”

“Who is this man, and what has he done with Bruce?” Clark whispers to Diana, neither of their eyes leaving the pair struggling on the sparing mat. Bruce looks ten years younger with the blinding smile stretched across his face as he taunts Jason. He let’s one of Jason’s hands go so he can burry his fingers into Jason’s armpit, sending the younger man into a fit of laughter, which is quickly joined by Bruce’s own laughter when Jason latches onto his side and starts squeezing.

“Jay, tag me in.” Clark Kent’s bare feet come into view, and Bruce abruptly stops his attack. He slowly looks up with wide eyes to see Clark’s cocky smirk as he holds out a hand for Jason to slap.

“Since when is this a tag team match?” Bruce knows running won’t do him any good, but he can’t help but glance around for an escape plan. He grabs Jason’s hand that was trying to sneak back to his stomach, pinning it back down to the mat.

“Since Jason was kind enough to show us a new side of you.” Diana purred into his ear and Bruce just barely refrained from jumping out of his skin as she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his middle. 

“This is not how tag team matches work.” Bruce protests as Jason bucks up to remind him that he’s still being pinned down. Bruce looks down at his smirking son, and his mouth quirks up into a lopsided smile against his will. “Is this why you stopped by?” He asked, amusement bleeding into his tone despite the danger he’s in.

“Alfred said you’ve been down lately.” Jason shrugged, not quite meeting Bruce’s eyes. “I told him that’s just your personality,” Clark snorted at that. “but he promised me a batch of cookies if I came. Said he’d throw in some brownies if I could get you to smile.”

“And it appears the apple did not fall far from the tree, Master Bruce.” All 4 heads swiveled to see Alfred watching from the bottom of the staircase, a fond smile on his face. Bruce scowled at his butler, not missing the hastily concealed phone that meant he probably snapped a few pictures before making his presence known. “Master Jason heard you were training and said he’d like to “take a crack at you” for old time’s sake.”

“Wait, you really used to tickle him when you were sparing?” Clark asked, disbelief clear in his voice. He wouldn’t have believed that ten minutes ago, but after seeing how comfortable Bruce was with fingers trying to burrow their way into his muscles a minute ago he was starting to reevaluate the “no touching” signals Bruce threw off.

“He was 15!” Bruce said, as though that made any difference. “I wasn’t going to punch a child!” Did they think he was some kind of monster? Sure, he could pull his punches, but he wasn’t willing to risk slipping and giving his son a black eye. 

Diana snorted. “You really are a big softy.” She cooed, squeezing him around the middle in a precursor for what was to come.

“Can we wreck him now?” Clark asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Are you asking my permission?” Jason laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the victim here.” He rotated his pinned down wrists for emphasis.

“You started this.” Bruce protested, narrowing his eyes at the smirking man beneath him.

“You started this 15 years ago. I’m just finally getting around to getting my revenge.”

“I am a grown man.” Bruce protested, as though that would change anything.

“Yes, but you have the emotional intelligence of a child.” Clark laughed again, and Jason looked pleased with himself. 

“I like him.” Diana laughed, breath tickling the shell of Bruce’s ear.

“If I may,” Alfred spoke up again, immune to the death glare Bruce was sending his way. “I seem to recall Master Bruce griping about Master Kent’s habit of squeezing his thighs whenever he gets up from a seat.” Bruce goes entirely still, cursing the warm feeling creeping into his cheeks. “I believe the phrase he used was “It makes me want to crawl out of my skin, Alfred.” “

“I am not going to forget this.” Bruce growls, glaring daggers at his friend-turned-enemy.

“Just as I haven’t forgotten a little boy shrieking in delight as he begged his father to send the tickle monster after him.”

You could cook an egg on Bruce’s face, it was so hot. Jason was cackling beneath him, Clark was clearly trying to hide his laughter behind his hand, and Diana gasped softly into his ear.

“I was four.” Bruce murmured, blush racing down his neck and settling across his chest.

“That is the cutest thing I have ever heard.” Diana’s laugh managed to not sound mocking, but Bruce still bristled at being called cute.

“I was four.” He reiterated, a quick intake of air cutting off any further protests when Diana unceremoniously latched onto his upper ribs and started tickling with abandon.  

Bruce had just enough presence of mind to not go crashing down onto Jason, instead trying to roll sideways as his arms turned to jelly and hoarse laughter was ripped from his throat. Clark wasted no time in joining in, strong fingers latching onto the muscle of Bruce’s thigh and squeezing them at random.

“Fucking he-hehehe-hell!” Bruce gasped, laughter pouring out of him unbidden as he tried to curl into a ball on his side. Diana and Clark were hovering over him, boxing him in so he couldn’t escape, but not cheating and holding him down so he at least had a chance at fighting back. Bruce kicked out at Diana when she slipped a hand under his shirt to tickle at the bare skin of his stomach. His foot connected with something and he had a second of triumph, before he squealed.

“Ooooh I think I’ve found a good spot.” Diana was holding his ankle in a steel grip while she dragged her nails across his bare sole, drawing swirling shapes into the vulnerable skin and driving Bruce wild.

“Dickhead is going to love this.” Jason laughed. Bruce cracked his eyes open, prepared for Jason to join in the fray, but shook his head when he saw his son recording the whole thing on his phone.

“Jason.” Bruce managed to get out, once Diana released his foot and let him regain some of his sanity. “Don’t you da-ha-dare!” He reached for the phone, but Jason just buried his free hand in Bruce’s armpit and sent him collapsing back to the mat with a bark of laughter.

“I think justice has been served.” Diana said, after another minute of tickling around and behind Bruce’s bare knees where his shorts had ridden up. Bruce’s face was flushed a healthy shade of pink, and his chest was heaving as he hugged himself around his stomach and shook with laughter, rolling side to side in an attempt to shake their hands off.

Jason’s phone disappeared from view, and Bruce rolled onto his stomach and pillowed his head in his arms as he caught his breath, trying to tamp down on the residual laughter still running through him. 

“You know,” Bruce looked up at Clark’s teasing tone. “You could have asked us to stop earlier.”

“I did!” Bruce protested, pushing himself into a sitting position to glare at Diana’s tittering laugh.

“You did not.”

“Let’s watch the video playback, shall we?” Jason was gloating, wagging his phone over Bruce’s head. Bruce lunged for it, snatching it away and springing to his feet. “HEY!” Jason yelped, trying to grab it back as Bruce danced out of his reach, using one hand to open up the camera app so he could delete the video

Before he could get to it a facetime call popped up, Dick’s excited face plastered across the screen. “You didn’t.” Bruce groaned, letting Jason snatch the phone back and answer the call. 

“Bruce is ticklish!?” Dick’s voice rang out, skipping right over the greetings to get to the important stuff. 

“Yes!” Jason crowed, spinning so his back was to the 3 heroes and he could get them all in frame. “Old man’s been holding out on us all these years.”

“I can’t believe this!”

“Wait. They never got you back?” Clark asked, sidling up next to Bruce, who was clearly trying to scowl at the phone but he couldn’t wipe the lopsided smile from his face.

“Nope. I kept that secret for almost 20 years.” Bruce said, shaking his head with a self depreciating laugh. 

“You know this changes everything, right?” Diana asks, slipping her arms around Bruce’s waist and resting her chin on his shoulder. 

The muscles in Bruce’s jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth in thought, leaning back against her chest. “Do....do you two want things to change?” He asks, sounding hesitant even to his own ears.

“Only if you do.” Clark says, standing in front of Bruce and blocking them from the view of Jason’s facetime call. Jason seemed to have forgotten about them anyway, caught up in his excited planning with Dick. He almost felt bad for what was to come for Bruce, but he knew he could handle it.

Bruce is quiet for a few seconds, painfully aware that both Clark and Diana could hear his heart hammering away in his chest. He licks his suddenly dry lips as he searches for something in Clark’s gaze. He must find whatever it is he’s looking for, because he nods once. “I...would like that.”

“Wow.” Jason says, appearing at Clark’s elbow. “That almost sounded like a human emotion.”

“Out.” Bruce growls. “Now.”

“Geez.” Jason mutters, hands raised in front of himself in surrender. “Touchy touchy.” He mutters, but scrambles backwards when Clark turns to stare at him.

“Do you really want to stick around and see what’s about to happen?” Clark asked, eyebrow cocked.

Bruce sputters a laugh at Jason’s disgusted expression. He hightails it for the stairs, noticing for the first time that Alfred already took the hint and made himself sparse.

“Now,” Clark turns back to Bruce and Diana, a soft smile playing around his lips. “Where were we?” 

“Right...about...here.” Diana says, dotting a soft line of kisses down the left side of Bruce’s neck. Bruce whimpered, lips squeezed shut as he tried in vein not to move. “You can move, Bruce.” Diana whispered into the skin of his neck. “That’s part of the fun.” 

Bruce gasped, jerking to the side to escape the soft lips dragging over the delicate skin. Clark seized his opportunity to box him in, his lips latching onto the right side of his neck. He slowly made his way up towards Bruce’s ear, while Diana began her slow trek down to his collarbones. Bruce let out a mix between a groan and a whimper, going boneless between them as he felt a new level of pleasure previously unknown to him. He didn’t know if he was going to make it through this night, but what a way to go.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter three

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: trying to keep to frequent posts, especially because of that cliffhanger! Also keep in mind that I am 10000% making up 1) police procedure and 2) anything to do with journalism. I know nothing about these things other than what I've seen in movies. But who cares, it's fiction!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.2k

She gasped.

And every head–four of them, all men–turned to look at her.

Instincts kicked in and y/n immediately shoved her phone into her pocket so as not to lose it and turned to flee. 

Only to smack into something a lot like a brick wall. 

She stumbled back, fear kicking her heart into high gear. She hadn’t even run yet and her breaths were quick, panicked. She was almost literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

Before her was a towering figure cloaked in shadows and some sort of armor. He was menacing, dark, huge. Her throat went dry as he took a single, heavy step forward. Half of his face was covered by a mask that made her think of a black skull with two sharp points at the top. She didn’t notice the split second of shock on his face when he first laid eyes on her. 

The Batman. 

It shamed her to admit that she whimpered. Her body was in the thick of fight or flight, but there were men with guns behind her and a demon of a man before her. She had nowhere to flee. Despite what the waitress had told her not ten minutes earlier, she was afraid. 

But Batman stepped to the side, his focus now on the men behind her, and said in a voice made of gravel and smoke, “Run.” 

Y/n ran.��

She ran until her lungs threatened to burst, until her knees wanted to give out, until all of her muscles were screaming, until her chocolate chip pancakes threatened to come back up. She took several turns and doubled back to make sure she hadn’t been followed. 

Then she stumbled inside the blessedly safe lobby of Wayne Tower. 

The security guard looked up in alarm. 

“Call the police,” she gasped. “Tell them–” She bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to get her racing heart under control. “–Tell them I witnessed a murder.” She glanced back at the doors. “Lock everything up. I’ll be upstairs.” 

The guard called after her–a young guy she didn’t recognize, someone who must be new from the past three years–but she ignored him. She heard the dial tone of the lobby phone as the elevator doors slid shut. 

It wasn’t until she was out of the elevator and stumbling towards a concerned looking Alfred that she relaxed marginally. Despite the late hour, he was still impeccably dressed, as if he hadn’t ever gone to bed. 

“Y/n?” he asked with a frown. The foyer was warm. Safe. Something in her loosened a little. “Security called up–” 

“Um, I just witnessed a murder,” she said. She was in shock, or something close, because the words simply tumbled out of her. The disbelief on Alfred’s face mirrored what she was feeling now that the fear was leaving. “I had to run–that Batman guy was there and since he was distracting them I just–I needed to be safe and this was closest–” 

Alfred wrapped her in a tight hug. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head. Her body trembled. 

And then she remembered, all over again, that her grandmother was dead and that she wouldn’t be getting the comfort she wanted the most. Alfred wasn’t even the next best thing, though it was good enough. 

A small sound escaped. 

“Alright, dear, I’m going to get the family lawyers on the phone. The police will meet us here to get your statement.” He squeezed her once more. 

“Lawyers?” she asked, the word making her nervous all over again. “I can’t afford–” 

“You’re family. And it’s just in case, love. They’ll offer legal advice and make sure nothing untoward happens with the officers interviewing you.” 

She pulled away and wiped her damp eyes. “Okay. That’s–Where’s Bruce?” 

Alfred hesitated. It was only for a moment, but long enough that she noticed. “Let’s not bother him unless absolutely necessary.” 

Something sharp pierced her chest. Meaning, Bruce probably didn’t even care that she’d almost died. Tears welled in her eyes all over again, but didn’t fall. 

Alfred patted her shoulder. “Stay here and we’ll meet the police together when they arrive. I’ll be right back.” 

It only took ten minutes. Alfred had the lawyers on speakerphone and Bruce still hadn’t bothered to show himself. 

The four of them–her, Alfred, a uniformed officer, and a detective–sat in the formal living room that no one ever used. It was dust-free, though, which was a testament to her grandmother’s work ethic. 

Her throat tightened again at the thought. 

“Y/n, this is Officer Martinez and Lieutenant Gordon,” Alfred said. “We’ve worked with them before and I believe them to be trustworthy. Gordon helped with the bombing last year.” 

She started, recognizing the name. The fire that had just gotten her in trouble rekindled again, ever so slightly. She stared at the man seated in front of her. “You’re Batman’s best friend, huh?” 

Gordon blinked. Then a corner of his mouth turned up. “Maybe not best friend, but we do work together. Why don’t you walk us through what happened?” Not the most subtle subject change, but she had more important things to get through before digging into the vigilante. 

So she did. She kept it short, sweet, and to the point as if she were reporting on it instead of reliving it. It helped create enough distance that she didn’t freak out again. 

“And you’re a friend of Mr. Wayne’s?” Gordon asked when she was finished. “Girlfriend?” 

Her face heated. Alfred’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see what–” 

She waved him off. She was nothing to Bruce Wayne, so she didn’t care about answering, or even why he was asking. “We grew up together. My grandmother–Dory–was the head housekeeper for the Waynes until she passed a few days ago. I came for her funeral. And for my mother’s.” 

Gordon simply nodded, as if he already knew the information. “Where is Mr. Wayne?” 

Alfred’s eyes narrowed even further. “In bed. He wasn’t feeling well, so I didn’t see a need to bother him.” 

“And the video? Did you delete it?” Gordon brushed past Bruce’s absence as if it didn’t mean anything. And to him, it didn’t. But for y/n, it meant everything. It meant that Bruce didn’t care. That she wasn’t important enough for him to wake up, to get out of bed. She hoped it didn’t show on her face, the minor devastation as the feeling sank in. 

“No, I have it here. I can send it directly to you, or to multiple–”

“We’ll need the entire phone, actually, to ensure that nothing was tampered with.” 

A tiny portion of her panic was back. Her entire phone? For how long? She looked to Alfred pleadingly. 

But the lawyer–she’d already forgotten his name–was already on top of it. “We’ll need it in writing that the phone will be returned in a timely manner and in the same condition. And that there will be no perusal of personal files. I have a draft already sent to Mr. Pennyworth to print for signatures.” 

Gordon sighed but nodded without argument. Was this what privilege felt like? Her life in close proximity to the Wayne fortune had afforded a few luxuries–like help with college tuition, Bruce giving her one of his “old cars”, things like that–but she had never needed to have lawyers on retainer. As close as she’d been with Bruce, sometimes his wealth still caught her by surprise. 

Alfred disappeared down the hallway to print the documents, chatting with the lawyer the whole way. 

Y/n studied the two officers in the ensuing silence. Officer Martinez hadn’t said a word. He was busy looking around the room in slack-jawed awe and barely seemed to listen to what they were saying. She glanced around, trying to see from his eyes. The room was grand, but it was also easy to tell the house had lost some of its former grandeur. 

She glanced back at the officer. He was young, probably her age or maybe younger, with a thin mustache that didn’t make him look as old as he thought. He caught her looking at him and grinned sheepishly. 

Gordon, on the other hand, stared right at her. She liked him, she realized. Her gut was rarely wrong on these things, but she knew better than to rely too much on that. It helped that he seemed steady, no nonsense. And apparently forward-thinking, because he worked with a vigilante on a regular basis. 

There was that fire again. She silently cursed it even as she asked, “Would you be open to doing an interview about the Batman? I’m a reporter in Bludhaven and–” 

Gordon’s phone rang out, shrill in the quiet room, interrupting her. “We’re best friends because he trusts me,” he said wryly, then stood to take the call as Alfred came back with the legal papers in hand. 

“Damn. Only one?” Gordon said quietly, but they were all listening. “Alright. I’m with the witness now.” A pause. “Yeah. Yeah. Talk later.” He hung up and turned back to them. 

“That was him, wasn’t it?” y/n asked. She wasn’t sure how she knew–investigative instincts, maybe. He had tried to hide the phone call, his body language shifting, even his voice. And he was familiar with whoever was on the other end of the call. 

Gordon gave her a look. “Yes,” he said without needing to clarify who she meant. “I have officers on the scene now, but one of the suspects escaped. Do you think you could identify them?”

She thought back to the moment they had all turned to her. There had been a streetlight at the end of the alley, the light filtering through from behind her. She might be able to identify them, especially with the help of the video. She hadn’t put her phone away until after they had turned, frozen in fright as she was. 

“I could try,” she said truthfully. 

“Alright, let me sign these papers and get over to the crime scene. We’ll be in touch and get your phone back to you as soon as possible. I would suggest protective custody, but I think you’re probably in the safest place in the city.” He scrawled a signature over the papers. Y/n wondered if the bombing the year before had involved any legal paperwork. An NDA maybe, since officers had been in the “inner sanctum” as she’d jokingly called it during their teenage years.

“We’ll add more security,” Alfred said as he showed the officers out a minute later. “Please keep us updated on any developments.” 

When they were gone, y/n slumped against the wall. “Fuck,” she said as she rubbed her tired eyes. The antique clock in the corner told her it was after two in the morning. 

“My sentiments exactly,” Alfred said. He had shed the professional facade as soon as the elevator doors closed. “I’ve already posted extra security downstairs and in the parking garage. Our camera and alarm systems will be updated tomorrow. The private elevators are on lockdown and employee identities will be triple checked for the offices below.” 

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure it made her feel better. One man had escaped both a vigilante and the cops, and they had all seen her face. It was only a matter of time before they figured out who she was–Wayne Tower going on lockdown was odd enough and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the cause. Her relation to Bruce Wayne had never been a secret. In fact, it had been an oft-discussed topic of every gossip magazine in the city and a few outside of it. 

She hoped the man who had escaped was on the run instead of the vengeful type. 

But her instincts told her that wasn’t the case.

She realized she hadn’t responded to Alfred. “I’m…going to bed. Thank you, Alfred.” 

He squeezed her arm gently and bid her goodnight. 

Y/n didn’t go to bed. Instead, she spent the next three hours scouring the internet for news on the Batman and printing out every article that seemed relevant. To what, she didn’t know yet. Those instincts that got her in trouble and created some of her best work in equal measure were whispering in her ear. 

She finally succumbed to exhaustion right as the city outside started to lighten. 

When she woke sometime later–long enough for her back to go stiff–she was on top of all of the papers she had printed. 

“Ugh,” she said as she peeled an article from her cheek. She was still in the same clothes she’d gone out in the night before. She went to check her phone before remembering that the police had it. She opened her laptop and used that to check the time (nearly noon) and email her editor for an extended leave of absence. She briefly explained the situation without giving too many details and then asked for a temporary assignment to the Gotham Tribune. 

There was a story here, and she was in the middle of it. It was an investigative reporter’s dream: to have unlimited access to a key witness who was willing to cooperate. 

Might as well make the most out of an extremely shitty situation. 

She showered, changed, and shuffled into the study when she heard the rustle of Alfred’s newspaper over light classical music. 

“Good mor–uh, afternoon?” she said as she took a seat across from him at the giant monogrammed table. 

“I’d ask if you slept well, but I think the answer is obvious after the night you had.” Alfred glanced up from the paper and smiled over the top of his glasses. “I’ve kept out some fresh fruit and coffee for you.” 

She took some of both and settled in. She half-expected to hear her grandmother puttering into the room with a mop or a tray of sandwiches for lunch. Tears pricked her eyes when she realized that reality was gone forever. 

“Thank you, by the way,” she said around a mouthful of grapes. “For…everything last night. And this week.” 

“Of course, dear,” Alfred said, his light accent a comfort. He was the only constant in her life anymore, and she appreciated it more than she could say. 

The silence stretched as she thought about how awful her luck had been in the past week. She stood and walked to one of the arched windows. The city was bustling down below, like it always was. She leaned her head against the cold glass and watched her breath create fog. Autumn had its claws in the city fully now, and it was only a matter of time before winter sank in its icy teeth next. 

“Detective Gordon called. He thinks your phone will be released by tomorrow morning. They just need to document everything to make sure there’s no evidence tampering.” Alfred said as she watched the city. She noticed a small bubble of space around the tower where private security were deflecting pedestrians and double-checking employee identities. 

“That’s good,” she said absently. “I asked for an extended leave from work. I figure I probably…shouldn’t do much else until that guy is caught.” 

“Probably a good idea,” Alfred agreed. Another rustle as he turned the page of the paper.  “Gordon’s a very good cop. I’m sure he’ll get one in custody to tell him where the last one is, and this will all be over before you know it.” 

She turned away from the window and smiled wryly. “That eager to be rid of me already?” 

Alfred rolled his eyes but didn’t answer. 

Her heart twinged painfully. She was sure it was Bruce who wanted her gone, not Alfred. 

Speak of the devil, she thought as the man in her thoughts materialized at the top of the stairs. He was tugging a shirt over his head and damn it her eyes caught on the flash of bare skin of his abdomen. Her entire body flushed from the split second view. Since when did Bruce have abs? He’d always been more scrawny than anything, but all that had changed sometime in the past few years. 

Bruce looked as tired as she felt. His eyes were almost bruised, the circles were so dark. His hair was damp and his shoulders curved inwards as if bowed by exhaustion. 

Alfred looked up from his paper with raised brows. He glanced between them, folded the paper, and got up to leave. 

“Fresh fruit and coffee there,” he said softly to Bruce on the way out.

That bastard, she thought at Alfred’s back. He was purposefully leaving them alone. 

Bruce finally looked up and blinked slowly at her. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed that Alfred wasn’t alone. 

She didn’t mean to speak. In fact, she’d decided to completely ignore him. But the words sprang forth anyway. “I hope you’re feeling better.” Her voice was cold. It was obvious she didn’t mean it. 

Bruce froze. “Uh.” 

“Alfred didn’t think you’d care about me almost getting murdered so we let you sleep.” She bit her tongue as soon as the words were out and winced. He could have been really sick, for all she knew, but here she was assuming he was just being an asshole. 

Bruce shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know until this morning.” The words were so unexpected her back bumped the cold glass of the window. Bruce Wayne, apologizing to her? It wasn’t an apology for three years ago, that much she knew, but it was still…something. 

“Sorry, I–I’m just…tired. Overwhelmed. I shouldn’t have snapped.” 

Bruce continued to stare at her. Used to, she would know what he was thinking from only a glance. But that was before. Now she had no idea what was happening behind his crystalline eyes. She noticed again how different he was. The baggy clothes couldn’t hide his new bulk. And he looked so tired, more so than he ever had before, even in college. Even after the deaths of his parents. What could possibly be keeping Bruce Wayne awake every night? Or maybe it was simply proof he had been sick after all. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing off her apology. “Were you hurt?” His voice sounded deeper too. It was like he’d gone through a second puberty or something. The muscles, the voice, even the way he held himself. He had changed so much, and she had missed it. 

It sickened her how much she clung to his attention, to his concern, even though it was only him being a decent human. God, she missed him. 

“No, I wasn’t hurt. That bat guy stepped in and gave me a chance to run.” 

Bruce’s eyes flickered up, away, and back in quick succession. A nervous tick if she ever saw one. But why? Did he feel bad about what had happened to her? Or was he waiting for his chance to escape her presence? 

“Heard he helped find the Riddler guy last year. The one who tried to kill you.” She knew she should shut her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t just switch off part of who she was. “Ever met him in person?” Her voice slipped slightly lower into what her grandmother used to call her “professional voice.” 

She saw it happen–the hardening, the distancing. Bruce went from at least semi-open with her to entirely closed and walled off. That much she could recognize. 

“No,” he said. He went to walk away, the lines of his body rigid, but paused. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said over his shoulder. 

She wondered if it was true.

Next Chapter

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[imagine--if]

Headcanons for hurt reader (this could be someone attacking her on the streets but not too deep yk) and bruce comforting her… please

A/N: So this is the requested part two of this post, which was where The Riddler obsessing over you kind of got out of hand and The Batman stepped in to save the day 🙃 so here we are with Bruce! I might have to do a part three of bonding with Bruce later hehe 🖤 enjoy!!

Wordcount: 1.1K

The enormous, gothic gates of Wayne Manor swing open steadily as one of their posh cars rolls into the driveway, driven by Alfred. Just one call from The Batman twenty minutes ago and everything was sorted, just like that. It was as if his presence allowed him to bend wills, instil fear in everyday Gotham rioters and a spark of hope in the more peaceful ones who just kept themselves to themselves and looked after their families.

What kind of effect could you call the one he was having on you?

Was it the same as his own?

"I really hope I'm not imposing," you say in a slight fluster to Alfred, who parks up the car into a long, lit-up garage. "I mean, the, um, The Batman said it was fine, but..."

"It's no imposition at all, Miss," Alfred says with a genuine, kind look, stopping the engine and getting out first to open your door for you, offering a hand to help you out. "As for Bruce Wayne, he is unused to guests, but in a circumstance like this I assume he'll be happy to oblige."

A small weight of uncertainty weighs in your chest, and you walk up the grand entrance of the Manor meekly, feeling completely out of place; you, a supposed everyday person in Gotham, suddenly called out for acts of charity and roped into a whole, terrifyingly obsessive ordeal with the Riddler, and billionaire Bruce Wayne, tucked safely and secretly away in his home as it all goes by.

He doesn't appear at first as Alfred works the advanced security indoors and leads you into a lovely, wide gothic hallway. Alfred sweeps off his coat and puts it away, and you shift awkwardly on the spot, thumbing the lightly worn material of your hoodie, your clothes damp and uncomfortable now after all you've been through wearing them. Alfred seems to notice, and he gives you a reassuring smile.

"We can send for some of your things, Miss, don't worry about that. Or you could order new things online. Orders often come within a few hours here."

Of course they do. Here, you'll be treated like royalty, and you blush just thinking about it, an overwhelmed rush of adrenaline hitting you, snaking its way through your body.

"I'll take you upstairs," Alfred continues, with a magical kind of sixth sense into your needs though you've only just met. "Then we can get you settled properly, and you can rest up. You must have been through a lot."

You shrug, raising your brow. "Yeah. It's been... yeah, a lot."

"Well, try not to worry yourself too much, Miss, especially now you're here. It's the safest place you could be in Gotham."

You nod with a small smile, following the butler as he takes you to a beautiful corridor with multiple guest rooms branching off opposite each other, leaving you to take your pick.

"I'll try not to get lost," you say, half-joking, half-serious, and Alfred nods with a knowing smile.

"Ah, yes, it does take some getting used to. There's a map of the whole Manor in the top drawer of every bedside chest in each room, which you could make use of. Feel free to wander whenever you fancy. Except for the Waynes' old wing," Alfred adds, a sad note tinging his voice, "and the basement area is restricted too. Other than that, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, and try to relax. You're quite welcome here."

"Thanks," you say gratefully, but can't help asking once more, "Are you sure he won't mind?"

"I don't mind," a different, deeper and lower-toned voice answers you instead of Alfred, and you flinch in surprise as Bruce Wayne himself stands before you both.

You have to force yourself to stop staring at the mysterious, reclusive billionaire, the soft, smooth brown shades of his hair and deep, dark brown eyes that bleed into your gaze, effortlessly yet intensely reading you, a sombre, indifferent expression on his face. His clothes are all black, and he squints slightly in the chandelier's light hanging above you, bringing life to the stretch of the hallway.

"I don't mind at all," Bruce repeats, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm glad you're... that you can be safe, here."

"Oh," you breathe in a daze of wonder and shock, too much happening in twenty-four hours for you to keep up with. "Thank you, I... yeah, I'll be fine."

Bruce nods, and it seems like he wants to say something, but he falters, gaze dropping to the ground in his antisocial awkwardness. You wait patiently, Alfred smiling and leaving you to it quietly.

"I guess you heard about what happened," you assume, playing with your hands as you try to bring back the conversation, and Bruce's eyes flick back to yours. "With The Riddler, I mean. Do you think he'll figure out that I..."

"That you're here? Maybe. But the chances of him breaking into the Manor and taking you from this site are slim to none. Our security is of a high standard. You'll be okay here."

There's a mixture of something meaningful in Bruce's eyes that you struggle to work out. Sympathy? Concern? Care?

"It won't happen to you again," Bruce tells you, so convinced by his words that you believe them just as easily, relaxing with a light sigh through your nose. "I... I won't let it happen. I'm sorry it did."

You frown in confusion, giving him a half-smile. "It really wasn't your fault. But thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," he responds, and after a beat of comfortable silence, he speaks up again. "I'll leave you to it, then. Try to rest."

You nod in agreement. "Okay. I'll try not to get lost at the same time. Don't want to give you the fright of your life when I suddenly walk into a secret room or something."

You cringe a little at your words, levity trying to lighten the mood, but to your surprise, a flicker of something that looks like a very small, but very genuine smile graces the young man's features briefly.

"I'll show you around tomorrow, if you want," he offers. "You'll be here until The Riddler is caught and apprehended, so it's best if you stay on Wayne grounds. But there's stuff to do, I guess, and... well, there's a library..."

You smile encouragingly. "I love books. I kind of like writing them too. I journal now and then."

Bruce blinks, before that faint, sweet smile reappears, and your heart skips seeing it. "So do I."