#Adjustable Wayne Leather Jacket

[clockwayswrites]

A Hill To Die On

This is most of Chapter 1, cutting before the smut. IT DOES GET SPICY THOUGH. 🌶️⚠️ Some of this has been posted before, but figured I'd give you all one nice big chunk of it!

Tim brush his hand idly through his damp hair as he stepped out of the shower.

It had gotten long.

He hadn’t planned to grow it out, it just sort of happened. He’d gotten it cut last summer before he started his sophomore year of college. The start of the semester had bled into midterms. Midterms had proceeded papers and projects. Projects had become final presentations and exams. Classes ended abruptly into a too short winter break of Tim visiting Cass and her team then dragging her home for Christmas. The New Year had been filled with Titans and teammates and fireworks.

He might cut it when it started getting to muggy. Spring had barely broken into the city. It was warm enough not to need heavy coat but cool enough Tim could still wear his favorite leather jacket he’d stolen from Jason. It was a good time of the year.

His hair really had gotten long.

As long as the wig Tim wore when he became Caroline. He tugged at the ends of the hair where, if he tilted his head down to look up under his lashes, the black strands brushed the top of his shoulders.

Tim hadn’t been Caroline Hill in a long time now.

Or Alvin Draper.

Or Timothy Drake— CEO to be.

He hadn’t been anyone, really. Instead he had been struggling to find out who Tim Wayne was beyond the expectations of dead parents, missions hidden behind masks, and under the weight everyone else’s needs.

He still really didn’t know.

It felt more like a game of finding out what he wasn’t than falling into what he was. Or what he liked to be.

He could be a ruthless businessman, but that was Timothy Drake, wasn’t it? That was his father’s Jack’s legacy and Janet’s cold, confident smile. He didn’t like being that.

He didn’t like being them.

He could be whatever the mission needed. He could do recon, hacking, infiltration, fighting—a replacement, like Jason said. The word didn’t have the same sting that it used to. Replacement. It was almost a word of respect now. It had taken a lot of talking (and a lot of alcohol) for Jason and Tim to get somewhere good, but they both got it now. Red Robin was whoever the team needed.

He was tired of having to fill in cracks.

He beyond tired of just existing for everyone else’s needs.

The weight of that had nearly broken him.

Had broken him.

Tim watched the black strands of hair slip over the spider web of scars on his left hand.

Bruce had assured him that there would always be a place with the Bats if Tim still wanted it. Tim didn’t know if he would. Tim refused to just fill in the space that was left open anymore. It took a lot of sessions with his Justice League approved therapist for Tim to even get to that line in the sand, but he understood how important it was now.

He had to stop being the replacement. The other Robin. The other son.

It was a problem.

Another problem was, he didn’t always think he was Tim Wayne, even with the pieces that he was slowly learning.

Tim dug around under his sink, coming up with the purple case he’d stolen from Steph to keep Caroline’s things in. The robin red lipstick was on the top. Slowly he uncapped it and smeared it almost recklessly across his lips.

Tim no longer stared back out from the mirror.

Maybe Caroline deserved a night out.

It had been a long time, after all.

-

Clothing was an issue.

Tim had grown. Not much mind, but enough that the shoulders were a little tight and bottoms a little short. Well, the bottoms weren’t a huge matter in that moment. Caroline wanted to go out to a club after all; they could work with a too short skirt. The top though… Caroline adjusted the black strap of the lacy bra. Even with the right padding in, it still didn’t look right.

She chewed on her lower lip, still messily smeared with bright red, as she held another top up against her chest. That wouldn’t do either. Caroline gave the box of old clothing a little kick. Hum. She should paint her toenails.

Focus, Caroline.

It was time to look outside of her box.

Fifteen minutes and a pair of scissors later and one of Alvin’s too large and nondescript red t-shirts had become a drop shoulder crop top. It wasn’t the most amazing fit, but as she dressed it up with the right necklace looped a few times around her throat, a splash of red and leather in the bracelets (cover the scars, they were identifying marks), she figured she could pull off the look—at least for getting sweaty in some dark club.

Ever grateful for quick drying polish, Caroline did a rush job of all her nails and waved them impatiently dry before she did her make up properly. Some contouring, false lashes, the right highlights, step by step Caroline felt herself come alive again until staring back from there mirror was no Tim or Timothy or Alvin—just her.

Just Caroline.

She let out the breath she had been holding.

-

Finding the right club took a little bit. Her old favorite had shut down, apparently. That wasn’t uncommon with the short lifespan of clubs and even less so in Gotham with the money laundering and drug rings that often went with the clubs, but it still sucked. Caroline wanted somewhere that if someone got very handsy on the dance floor there wouldn’t be issue with everything that was carefully and securely tucked away in her underwear. The person might not want all that, which was perfectly fine as long they parted ways amicably.

(And if not, well, one of her bracelets could be shockingly persuasive.)

She tucked her fake ID back away in the hidden pocket of her bra, not minding the bit of a show it gave. Tim would have to make her a new one; she didn’t needed the fake age anymore. Then, with a steadying breath, she entered the thudding music, bright lights, and throng of bodies of the club. It took a moment to adjust to it all. This wasn’t always Caroline’s favorite thing, but they needed to relax already. Any tenser and something was going to snap.

Besides, this is where the boys failed and Caroline thrived; slipping between bodies, flirting, giving enough to capture attention without actually giving anything away. Dealing with a mass of people was a complex game of chess and Caroline very much intended to be the conquering queen.

The bar was the first stop, ordering a fruity martini so that she could sip at the drink and people watch for a time. It was always good to get a feel for things before diving in. It also gave her time to get used to being her again as she fielded a few flirtatious advances which landed her another drink in turn for the first dance of the night with her. She didn’t linger long.

She wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for. Caroline flitted across the dance floor from partner to partner, just letting herself enjoy the thud of the beat and the press of bodies. She always moved on before people could get too invested (or too handsy).

Caroline was on the edge of the floor, slipping away from one dance and looking for the next when a laughing group at a close by table shoved one of their number her way. She took a tentative step back, but didn’t actually need to. The poor sacrificial lamb found his footing rather gracefully.

He ducked his head with a crooked smile that was actually somehow charming. “Sorry about them.”

“Stay on target, Danny!” someone called from the table to cheers and jeers.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Really sorry. Just, ah, I maybe have been talking about how pretty you are and how much I want to dance with you for, like, the last twenty minutes. Feel free to tell me to fuck off if this is rude, but would you like to dance?”

Caroline tilted her head and tried not to smile in too predatory a way. “You’ve been watching me?”

“It’s hard not to, with how you move.”

She laughed at that. This one was so earnest. That was odd for Gotham.

“Once dance,” Caroline said, holding out a hand. “Unless you have the moves and then maybe you’ll get more.”

Danny took the hand and brushed a kiss against it. “One dance, to start.”

-

Despite any doubts that Caroline might have had, Danny knew how to move. She’d lost count of the song they had danced to about the time that Danny’s hand had first slid up her shirt. She rolled her hips, grinding back against Danny’s tight jeans and growing arousal. Danny followed her lead beautifully.

His teeth scrapped lightly against her neck and she threw back her head for him, letting him suck a mark into her skin. She enjoyed the thought of Tim being stuck with a reminder of her night out. (Maybe it would convince him to have some fun of his own.)

Danny’s hand slid down from where it had been cupping a breast, traced over her stomach, and moved to her skirt. Caroline caught it before Danny could do more than slip a few fingertips past the band.

“Sorry,” he murmured into her ear.

“Not that,” Caroline said. She turned her head to press a kiss against the corner of Danny’s mouth, smearing robin red against his tan skin. “Just need to let you know there’s more down there than you might be expecting.”

She held her breath as tightly as she held Danny’s hand. It this went bad, she wanted to be able to act quickly.

Danny’s huff of air sounded amused.

She relaxed her grip slightly.

The hand slipped a little lower.

“To me, any combination of bits is a good combination. I’m up for all sorts of surprises,” Danny assured her. His fingers ran over just the top edge of her underwear, not really touching anything, but applying just enough pressure that she shuddered. “She’ okay to use?”

“Yes. She, her, Caroline.”

“Caroline.” Danny said her name like it was a prayer.

She guided his hand a little lower.

His touch stayed almost teasing and Caroline had to alternate between pressing forward into his hand and grinding backwards against him until Danny pulled them so close together that she could barely move. And fuck, it had been too long for any of them. She half thought that if she put in the effort, or Danny’s hand dipped any lower, that she could manage to come right there on the dance floor.

That was not how she wanted tonight to go.

She ran her hands through Danny’s hair and tilted his head where she wanted it. So that she could nip at his ear lobe. “Tell me you live close.”

“In walking distance.”

[hopelesswrites]

Music Boyfriend part 1

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 1 / 2 / 3

Summary: Eddie is an anonymous frontman of Corroded Coffin and meets his long-time pen-crush while on the run from the law.

Notes: This is HEAVILY inspired by movie Dinner in America, I was obsessed with the dynamic and felt it fit Eddie and Reader so well. general plot similarities but not a complete retelling of the movie.

Eddies POV

Sweat dripped down the nape of Eddie Munsons neck, chest raising and falling at a rapid rate, his hooded reflection an image of fierce rage as he attempted to calm down his heart and mind after the show. It was the biggest crowd they had played for. At least 100 sweaty bodies mashed together screaming his lyrics. Eddie was in a euphoric state the whole set, Corroded Coffin was finally making it in the scene, people were actually taking them seriously.

“Great show tonight dude” Gareth the bands drummer spoke as he walked past smacking his palm against the skin of Eddies exposed back.

“Owners talking about getting us back next weekend”

Eddies heartbeat was still pounding in his ears when he roughly ripped off the black ski mask from his head, damp curls sprawling out from their confinement.

Shouting could be heard from outside before the door to the small green room slammed open. “They’re looking for you man” Jeff ran in. Eddie could hear the police outside the door, their voices getting closer.

“Quick get out of here and lay low, whatever you did this time they’ll forget in a few days”

Eddie cursed before haphazardly putting his mask back on and shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders before entering the cold night air.

The cops were looking for Eddie, and with the mask on he was no longer Eddie, he was Vandal, Van for short, but he made a run for it just to be safe.

Eddie knew back at the bar his band will be getting interrogated right now. But their story was always the same “we don’t know no Eddie; the lead singers name is Van”

He liked to keep his real identity a secret on stage. It was easier due to all the trouble he gets up to during the day and he just preferred the anonymity of it, he could be anyone once that hood came on.

Down the street now Eddie slowed to a brisk walk, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag once he finally got a breath. He smiled at the irony of that, thinking of ways he could incorporate that into a lyric, connect it back to the bands rebellious non conformity message.

After a few more minutes of walking Eddie made it to the nearest service station, pulling his hood off and stuffing it in his jacket pocket before entering. He beelined straight to the confectionary section ripping off a chocolate bar and stomping down the aisle for a packet of chips. At the counter he watched the bored clerk perk up at the sight of him, adjusting her shirt to show off more cleavage.

“What can I do for you” she asked in the most flirtatious voice she could

“Uh, cheapest bottle of bourbon please” Eddie answered giving the girl a wink before she turned around to grab the bottle.

“What time do you get off?” Eddie leaned his elbows on the counter so his eyes were in line with her chest, noticing the way she pushed her chest out more and stood with her hand on her hip.

“I’m here all night, but it’s pretty dead, I can lock the door” She replied seductively. Eddie considered his options. Try to go home to his uncle who likely already received a visit from the cops, or hole up here with a pretty lady until the authorities cool off for the night.

The answer was obvious.

-

Eddie was rudely awoken by the zip of his leather jacket hitting him in his eye socket. Groaning he stretched in the plastic chair he had curled up on, flinching when he pinched a nerve in his back. Uncle Waynes couch would have been a better option.

“You have to leave now my supervisors going to be here” A voice spoke above him.

Eddie squinted open one eye to see a dishevelled version of the girl he met last night. On the floor to his right was an empty bottle of that bourbon and a plastic cup with the remnants of his last few cigarettes.

“Get me another packet of Marlboros would ya” Eddie resumed his stretch, rubbing the eye that he could already feel a small bruise forming around.

He heard movement and a small box hit him in the chest.

“Out! Now!”

Eddie scrambled to his feet shrugging on his jacket realising he still had no shirt underneath.

“Can I pinch a shirt?” Eddie asked the girl frantically cleaning up the back room they spent the night in.

“They’re next to the drink fridge, hurry” she answered, uninterested in Eddies company by now.

Eddie walked out the back entrance of the service station clad in a shirt saying, “Warning, Choking Hazard” with an arrow pointed downward, he chuckled to himself, pleased with his selection before lighting up another cigarette and making his way in town. He was starving and could use a greasy cheeseburger to soak up some of the alcohol still swirling through his system.

If he was lucky, the police had forgotten about Mr Wheelers stolen car and Mrs Norris’s once perfectly manicured lawn (he didn’t see the pot hole, he was trying not to pop Mr Wheelers tyre obviously).

Down the main strip of Hawkins Eddie kept his head down trying not to draw any attention. He was on 80% of these peoples hit list, been done dirty by Eddie one way or another. This was why he was so eager to blow up with the band and get the hell out of this shit hole. He approached the record store, interested in this week’s new releases. Him and the band had been trying to get Corroded Coffins album in store for months. Keith the asshole kept saying they weren’t selling amateur garage band shit, so Eddie deeply despised the place.

Like a magnet Eddie found his way to the metal section, browsing the albums he already knew and loved when one cover up the back caught his eye. It was Corroded Coffin, he had hand drawn that cover himself, he recognised the charcoal smudge scanned onto the left edge of every album they printed. It cost him a fortune, only two existed in vinyl format and 50 cassettes, all the copies they hand out at shows now are hand scratched mixtape style covers. This was one of those 50 official cassettes.

“Its limited edition, hence, the markup” A soft voice spoke from behind Eddie. He turned his head and scowled at the girl stood behind him. She was twiddling with a sticker that read ‘SALE’ a crooked name badge on a too big shirt with ‘Hawkins Records’ printed on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I know its limited edition, its one of 50” Eddie spat back protectively. Who was this girl telling him about his own band?

“Its one of my own copies. I bought two because I’m such a fan and wanted a backup but Keiths been pushing back their request to sell in the store, so I sacrificed my spare to put out, they deserve to be in stores, have you heard of them?” The girl rambled, seemingly forgetting her own surroundings once she had started talking.

“Of course, I’ve heard of them” Eddie grumbled putting the album back. “Better question is how have you heard of them”

Eddie turned fully now to look at the girl. She was nothing like the people who come to his shows, she radiated too much of a cautious, anxious energy. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin and ashamed of her own actions, but Eddie was no psychoanalyst, he couldn’t make those kinds of conclusions. She looked up at him but a little to the left, never making eye contact and she had a twitch in her leg that looked a little like Gareth tapping a kick drum.

“My friend Jack showed me their album, he works here Monday to Thursday, he’s really into metal”

Eddie looked her up and down as he tried to work this girl out, she was fucking weird, and that was saying something coming from him, the towns resident freak.

“Did you know the bands lead vocalist Vandal wears a mask?” Her leg began to twitch more as she continued to talk about Eddie, to Eddie.

“He stays anonymous when he performs, I find it so hot no one knows who he really is” Her twitching turned into a small bounce and Eddie stepped back away from her.

“Oi! Nutcase, stop harassing the customers, get back to work!” Keith yelled from the front of the store, shutting down this girl’s excitement. This didn’t sit well with Eddie at all.

“Does he always talk to you like that?”

The girl looked down at her shoes nervously. “Yeah, he does”

Eddie grunted, “He’s an asshole, you know that?” The girl only nodded back.

Her submission to the asshole up the front only enraged Eddie more. “Hey! Keith!” He shouted across the store, stomping up to the counter.

“Find someone else to pick on” He growled before planting one hard punch to Keith’s face, definitely breaking his nose. Other customers in the store looked up, curious about the commotion.

“And treat your staff better”

Keith groaned in pain, “She’s fucking useless man, what the fuck”

Something in Eddie felt protective over this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. She was a fan obviously and a part of him felt indebted to her for her devotion to his art, whether she knew it or not.

“Come on” Eddie grunted, pulling the strange girl by her arm and out of the store. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before Keith calls the police and they’re hot on his trail again.

“Where are we going?” She asked still being dragged by Eddie.

“To your place”

Surprisingly it didn’t take any convincing at all for this girl to lead Eddie in the direction of her house, taking backstreets to avoid attention. Eddie added this to her list of traits that made her a freak, who the hell takes a guy like Eddie home after that?

“Hey, stop” Eddie interrupts once they were far enough away, he thought they’d be safe from authorities. “Fuck this shit” he said ripping off the name badge from her uniform. “You don’t need that shithole” The girl looked at Eddie now, analysing him.

“Am I fired?”

The question baffled him, how does he answer that. Did he just get her fired?

“Like I said, you don’t need that shithole” He punctuated, motioning for her to continue walking, he was still fucking starving.

-

She led him up to a plain white house, perfect coverup assuming Keith doesn’t talk. Inside, it was as plain at the exterior, perfect picture of boring suburbia. Eddie couldn’t help comparing it to somewhere they’d send him to torture him.

“My Dads on a trip and my Moms at work, no one will find you here” The girl said, practically reading Eddies mind.

She walked him through and into the kitchen offering him a glass of water, which Eddie rejected as he pushed her out of the way to scan her fridge.

“Where’s the beer?”

The strange girl shrugged, “Dad doesn’t like beer”

“Is there any booze in this house?” He asked, already getting irritated.

“Well, dads got a special bottle of whiskey he saves for Christmas each year in his study, he says its vintage”

“Perfect” Eddie answered, “Go get it”

He continued to rummage through the fridge, pulling out bread, turkey meat and cranberry jelly. The girl stayed put, not answering Eddie. “Is there a problem?”

“Its Dads special Whiskey, he only drinks it on Christmas”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Whatever”

Once his sandwich was made Eddie began to look around the house, looking for anything valuable he could snatch on his way out tomorrow. “What’s your deal then?” Eddie called from a gallery wall near the front entrance, viewing a series of boring family photos, this family didn’t even go on vacation, every photo looked like a Macys photoshoot.

“What do you mean?” She asked sneaking up next to Eddie, causing him to jump and hold his chest.

“Fucking creepy, don’t do that” He hissed before composing himself, “I mean, what do you do besides work at the record store, did you go to college? Actually, how old are you?”

“I’m 20, I did one year at college, but mom thought I’d be better working and getting some life experience and going back later when I gained a bit more confidence”

Eddie noted the way she spoke to the wall rather than to Eddie, so he turned to face her directly, encouraging her to do the same.

“You think you’re getting life experience getting yelled at by Keith?”

“Not really”

Eddie crossed his arms, “what do you want to be doing then?”

The girl took a moment to consider her next words, biting her lip in thought. “Follow me” She led him up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom with the most contradicting aesthetic Eddie had ever seen. Her bed was cutely decorated with girly blankets, a pile of stuffed animals in the corner. Cascading over the bed was a frilly canopy covered in fairly lights. To the opposite wall was a white traditional vanity with a pretty jewellery box decorated with glittery stickers, and various lip glosses and juvenile makeup products. The walls however were covered in aggressive Metal band posters. Eddie spotted a concert advertisement poster they had put up around town for one of Corroded Coffins gigs. She had a stack of cassettes beside her bed that Eddie imagined didn’t contain a single Madonna album.

“I want to start a band” She spoke quickly, rummaging through a cardboard box of letters, papers and various craft equipment.

“I don’t have anyone to join the band, but I’ve been writing songs” She pulls out one envelope generously decorated in stickers. “I sometimes send the love songs to Vandal from Corroded Coffin” she explains turning around to show Eddie the letter she had, addressed to his uncles PO box.

Eddies stomach dropped, face void of any blood as he stared at the familiar envelope connecting the dots between this girl and the girl he’d been fantasizing about for over a year now.

This was fucking bad.

[mrsjellymunson]

Something Old, Something New

Written for the @steddiemicrofic January challenge prompt ‘new’ || WC target: 517 || Rating: M || CW: very brief and vague allusion to sex, self-doubt, sentiment, fluff || Tags: nervous!Eddie Munson, background Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, very background Al Munson

OLD

Eddie reaches into the collar of his shirt and runs his fingertips along the tarnished chain. It’s his old guitar pick necklace, the one he was wearing the day they met. He remembers how Steve asked about it, nervously. How he fiddled with it when they first spent time alone. How it swung over his face and chest when they finally—

“How are you doing? Really?”

Eddie looks away from the hotel mirror to regard his uncle. He tries to sound confident, but his voice cracks a little.

“I’m fine, honestly. You’re here, my friends are all here. It doesn’t get much better than that, right?”

NEW

“You look good, son.”

Eddie turns.

“Thanks, Wayne. But honestly, I think this suit is doing most of the work.”

He fusses in front of the mirror again, smoothing the black fabric and adjusting his tie for the dozenth time.

“Steve insisted I go to the same tailor he used, but also get something that was really me. I dunno though, I feel like a penguin.”

Wayne tries to quash Eddie’s self-doubt, which is clearly about more than the suit.

“Listen, I know you’re not used to someone taking care of you like this. But he’s good for you. He’s helping you to see your worth. And you’re good for him too. You keep him grounded, and will always remind him of how much he’s loved.”

Eddie gives him a thin-lipped smile.

BORROWED

Wayne clears his throat as he reaches inside his jacket. Pulling out a worn velvet box, he murmurs,

“I wanted you to have this, for today.”

Eddie takes it, a confused look on his face. He’s seen it at the back of Wayne’s closet, but never asked what it was.

He lifts the lid to reveal a watch, clearly antique. Gold or brass, he neither knows nor cares; it’s beautiful.

“It was your grandfathers. I managed to hide it, keep it from, well, you know…”

Eddie frowns and nods. Had his father known about this he would’ve pawned it without a moment’s thought.

Eddie places it on his wrist as his uncle fastens the clasp.

“I got the strap altered for ya. Had to measure one of those darned leather bracelets one day when you were in the shower. I felt like a goddamned secret agent’r somethin’.”

Eddie snorts as his uncle shakes his head.

He regards himself in the mirror again. The suit, the watch. He stands a little taller, a little straighter. Maybe Wayne’s right? He can do this. He deserves this.

BLUE

He glances out the window to where Steve’s baby-blue pick-up truck sits gleaming in the parking lot.

The Party’s decorated it with white satin ribbons, soda cans on string, and ‘Just Wed’ on the rear window in chalk marker. Eddie makes out geometric shapes, and wonders who suggested drawing D&D dice instead of hearts.

Wayne checks in one more time.

”You sure you’re okay, son?”

Eddie looks at his uncle and nods assertively, smiling.

“Definitely. It’s a new beginning. I’m marrying the love of my life, and I couldn’t be happier.”

A/N: You could take this literally, where the Something Old is Eddie’s necklace and/or the heirloom watch, and the Something New is his new suit and/or Steve’s pick-up. Or, you might prefer that Something Old is Eddie’s lingering self-doubt, and Something New is his burgeoning self-confidence and self-worth, or their new beginning, as they step into their new life together. Or you might pick both, or something different, it's entirely up to you.

A/N2: I initially wrote this to imply Eddie was getting ready to read the eulogy at Steve’s funeral, only to pull an abrupt switcheroo near the end. But quite frankly I couldn’t bring myself to write anything sad right now, even if it did end happily, as I think we all need cheering up given current world events.

And in case anyone’s interested, here’s the meaning behind the old rhyme:

“The Old English [Victorian era] rhyme is all about good luck charms, "Something Olde (symbolizes continuity), Something New (offers optimism for the future), Something Borrowed (represents borrowed happiness), Something Blue (purity, love and fidelity), and a Sixpence (maybe a 5 cent piece) in your Shoe (prosperity).”

Tagging my general list (open, just ask): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @losingmygrasponreality @richter-raccoon @1deverland @evileyeandthecattywhumps @3rd-conchord @bellalillyrose

More Eddie & Steddie on my masterlist

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 1 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, breeding kink and lots of it, fingering, oral (f! receiving)

WC: 2k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 1998

Your head rests on Eddie’s thigh, cheek pressed against the cotton sweatpants serving as his pajamas. His fingertips dance along your shoulder in comforting circles, the other hand digging into a bag of peanut M&Ms and dropping several into his mouth at once. 

Harris is sleeping in bed, his little eyes having drifted closed halfway through his second bedtime story. You’d laughed softly, kissed his forehead, and closed the door as quietly as you could. 

On the TV screen, Phoebe Buffay prepares to give birth to triplets while Joey’s learned that his sympathy pains are actually kidney stones. 

The candy shell crunching ceases as Eddie speaks over the characters’ dialogue. “You ever think about that?” he asks, jerking his chin towards the monitor. 

“Having three babies at once?” You wrinkle your nose, tugging the fleece blanket up a bit higher. You adjust your position so you can see his chocolate-smudged lips. “Only in my nightmares.”

Eddie laughs, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his doe eyes. “N-No, just, like…having a baby?” His front teeth scrape his lower lip nervously while he awaits your response. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I definitely want to have kids with you. And I know Harris is dying for a sibling to play with,” you add teasingly, though your words are true. He’d come home from school last week claiming that his friend Joshua’s mommy was having another baby, lamenting that it wasn’t fair because Joshua already had a sister. “I can’t wait to add some more Munsons to our little family.”

“Okay, yeah,” Eddie nods, swallowing thickly. “So, um, what exactly are we waiting for?”

The question makes you sit up, pushing yourself with your palms, so you can look him in the eyes. “We’ve only been married for a few months…” you trail off, unsure what to say next, but it doesn’t matter because Eddie leans in and silences you with his lips on yours. Tiny, passionate kisses, his smile rendering him unable to draw them out longer. 

“I’m ready whenever you are,” he murmurs, nose gently bumping yours. Four fingers are tucked behind your ear, his thumb delicately grazing your cheek. “There’s no rush, ‘kay? No Baby Munsons until you’re totally on board.”

“What if I’m ready, too?” You kiss him, body buzzing with nerves just from having this conversation. An excited giggle slips out, and you drape your arms over his shoulder to straddle his waist. “What if I want to start trying?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs; he swears he’s hit the jackpot with you. “Then I say…to hell with those pesky birth control pills.” He kisses you again, peppering them all over your face and neck. “C’mon, Sweetheart. Let’s make a baby.”

It’s a few weeks later when Eddie breezes through the apartment door after work, kicking off his Reeboks in the general direction of the hall closet. His weary expression shifts to a joyous one when he sees you walk out of the bedroom with a knowing grin on your face. 

“What’s that little smirk for, hmm?” he teases, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him. An autumn chill sticks to his leather jacket; you shiver as the cold fabric brushes your bare arms. “And where’s the other troublemaker?”

“Harris is at Wayne’s for the night,” you tell him, stepping back slightly and briefly lacing your fingers with his before grabbing something from the back pocket of the jeans you immediately changed into after work. “This little line means that I’m currently ovulating,” you quickly explain, not wanting him to confuse it with another important test. 

Eddie’s grin could split his cheeks in half. “So…so that means…” his eyes shine bright with anticipation. “It’s baby-making time?”

You giggle at his phrasing. “Yes, Eddie,” you confirm through peals of laughter. “It’s baby-making time.”

Eddie’s lips crash onto yours in an instant. He groans into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing your ass to pull you closer. Your own fingers grasp his jacket by the zipper teeth, tugging it off of his body and letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously. His hands snake underneath your sweater, eyes widening when he touches supple skin rather than the underwire of a bra.

“Mhm,” you bite your lower lip and nod, gasps of pleasure caught in your throat as his thumbs brush against your nipples, giving them a small tweak. He grins at your reaction, more than satisfied to be catching you off-guard. 

“Y’know,” he muses, not straying from your breasts, “I won’t be able to be so rough with ‘em once I knock you up. They’ll be extra sensitive, and I gotta take care of my girl.” The sweater is a hindrance, burying the treasure he so desperately desires, so you shed it without a second thought.

He stares at your bare torso for a moment, enthralled with your body even after all this time. Like a vampire lusting for blood, his teeth sink just below your areola, nipping and sucking sloppily until the underside of your breast is dripping with his saliva. “C’mere,” he growls, taking a breath and leading you into the bedroom.

You’ve never seen Eddie this hungry for you; his lips and tongue and hands trailing along your curves and leaving goosebumps in their path. It’s as though he can’t decide where to touch you and with what.

All articles of clothing–both yours and his–are long gone by the time your bodies tangle in the bedsheets. The only word you can manage is his name, so you whisper it over and over again. 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 

His body towers over yours, middle finger gliding up and down your folds, gathering your slick and rubbing deliberate circles on your clit. Your trembling legs fuel his own passion, his erection flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. 

“You need me inside you, Sweetheart?” Eddie coos, letting his finger drift down towards your wanting hole. When you nod pathetically, unable to string together a sentence, he laughs. “I’d normally make you beg, but seeing as you’re gonna be carrying my baby, I’ll let it slide.” He lays down, hissing at the glorious pressure against his cock. “In fact, I’m gonna make sure my girl gets everything she needs tonight.”

Soft lips wrap around your swollen bud while his middle and ring fingers stretch you deliciously. You buck your hips, using his face to draw you towards what you suspect will be your first of multiple orgasms. 

The only sound lewder than your wanton moans is the schlick of his fingers pulsing in and out, soaked with your arousal. You let yourself float away, relishing in the comfort of his control. 

“F-Fuck, Eddie…” you sputter, arching your back and hooking your grasp into his curls. He smiles against your pussy as you clench around his fingers. 

“Thassit, honey.” He breaks his rhythm for a split second to encourage you, resuming his pace like he’d never stopped. Maybe it stems from his musical prowess, or maybe he simply knows your body that well. You love this man, and you swear you’ll do anything to give him a baby.

You come undone moments later, taking everything you need without hesitation. Eddie lowers you from the high and kisses down your thighs, your arousal smeared on his pursed lips.

“Need you to do me a favor,” he says, shifting his body so his eyes gaze directly into yours, pupils blown out with lust. “Need you to bend your legs and hold onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?”

You nod, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them tight. Eddie’s breath hitches, taking in the view of you, glistening and on display just for him.

“Fuckin’...perfect…” he groans, running his hardened length along you, slowly pushing in. “Gettin’ to watch your pretty pussy cream my cock…shit…’s my favorite fuckin’ sight, I swear.” He grips your hips so tightly that it pinches a bit, pain indistinguishable from pleasure.

He’s entranced in a way you haven’t seen before, despite the multitude of times he’s already had you in this position. Your eyes fill with emotion when the realization hits: you and Eddie could make a baby right now. A little being that’s half-him and half-you. 

“‘S everything okay?” he asks, one hand moving from your waist to gently brush away a rogue tear slipping down your cheek.

“Mhm,” you answer, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m just really happy that this is for real. No more pretending; we’re actually doing this to expand our family.”

Eddie swoops down to kiss you, a few soft pecks punctuated with a long, intimate embrace. “I love you so much.” He says it as a promise, not a simple statement. “You’re mine and I’m yours, and I never want you to forget that.” He resumes thrusting, pulling almost all the way out and leaving just the tip inside you, before sinking back in. The movement draws a whine from deep within you, and he wears it as a badge of honor. “That’s my girl, my sweet girl, gonna have my baby.”

Sweat trickles down the bridge of his nose and drips onto your chest between your breasts. He bites his lip in determination. “Shit, ‘m close already,” he mumbles, smiling as he adds, “kinda wish I didn’t have to cum so we could stay like this, but, uh, that would defeat the purpose, huh?”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you giggle, which only further spurs him on. “You get tighter when you laugh, fuck, babe.” But he’s laughing with you, stopping for a second to get his bearings. “I gotta stay focused! Trying to make a baby over here!” His palms flex on your knees before gripping them again.

“I’m sorry!” You’re not, and neither is he, the two of you soaking in the comfort of being with the person you trust completely and love wholeheartedly. 

“Okay, okay,” he says, wiping perspiration from his brows with the back of his hand. “Let’s get back on track.” His thrusts resume slowly as he once again grows harder within your walls, gradually quickening in pace. 

Everything is overwhelming; the way he feels inside you, the sweetly possessive hold he has on his legs, the unexpected comedic interlude, the potential to create a new life. Passion sweeps you up into its embrace and you come with a strained cry of your husband’s name. 

“Want your baby, Eddie. Please.”

Eddie’s brown eyes shine at your desperate plea. He nears his own climax, hair sticking to his forehead and his guitar pick necklace thumping against his chest. “‘M right there, Sweetheart; you’re milking my cock so good.” His biceps tremble as he gives a final few pistons of his hips, spilling into you harder than he ever has before. “Fuck, gonna give you a baby, take it.” 

You shiver when he growls the last two words, savoring the movements until they abruptly stop. With panting breaths, Eddie slides out of you. 

“Don’t move,” he gently commands, holding up one finger and using the other hand to hold his softening dick. He scrambles for a free pillow and tucks it underneath your hips. “Helps ‘em swim faster,” he sheepishly explains. “Or, like, hit their target a little better.”

“Hit their target?” You ask through a bemused grin. “Is that the proper medical terminology?”

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, returning to the bed and nuzzling into you. His frizzy curls tickle your chin when he rests his head on top of one breast. You both lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. 

“Can’t wait to see if it worked,” he muses while fighting a yawn. “Whatever happens, it felt special, y’know?”

You know. Your hand flutters over your abdomen; Eddie drapes his over yours soon after. The two of you fall asleep wrapped up in one another and an intoxicating blanket of hope. 

--

[i-yap]

Hi there! LOVE your thoughts on Jason like truly i <3 clingy Jason!!!!! What do you think a relationship would be like between Jason and a corporate baddie? Like she's serious, career-driven, and almost viciously ambitious, but for him? a total softie!! Like they just melt for each other despite the fact that they both put up a tough exterior to others!!

Omg i love that , here are my headcanons -

Jason todd x corporate baddie!y/n

I think the time schedules would be a mess. She works 9-5 and he 'works' 9pm-5am. But since she is a really career driven woman, I can see her sort of completing her extra or personal work/ international calls etc from the time that jason is vigilanting and therefore cutting her shift from like 9-3 or something similar. Since she gets all her work done, no one can say a word and honestly no one would dare to either way. Relstionship is about compromise and I think jason will cut down his vigilante time to get home to his stressed worker bee.

Jason prolly cant sleep without her so while she is at her job, he is working out or doing his other stuff. They catch up on sleep after her shift . This means afternoon cuddles !!( Ofc I am firm believer that jason should with time leave crime fighting and become an English professor )

I also love how most of her coworkers thinks she is prolly dating a Submissive type of guy or like a really serious professional dude cause she is so scary and strict . But then Jason- 6 feet something, huge asf, leather jacket, tattoos(maybe) and motorcycle dude walks in bringing her lunchbox( that looks so tiny in his hand). Yea now they're even more scared.

And I think everyone from jason's side also assumed that he'd either get a super cute-sy girl that will "fix him" or another vigilante girl that'll " make him worse". But he walks in with this poised, smart hardworking no nonsense woman and everyone's like DAMN

Damian loves you probably. He doesn't get how todd wooed you, like he thinks todd is a doofus. For once you are a normal (non crime fighting) girl that his brother is dating who is this career driven and also treats his brother properly. He loves talking business with you ( there was this scene where he figures out who is stealing money by looking at the finances at wayne enterprises) . and for once someone doesn't take him for a kid and actually wants to listen to pointers that he has. Tim prolly also loves talking to you about business cause he is a CEO too same thing for bruce.

Power couple fr.

but once you too get home...yea no one recognizes you.

Jason loves the fact that you show your soft side only to him. He has never been someones first choice in anything and this makes him feel so much more loved and cherished. and vice versa applies to you

he loves taking care of you after your long ass workday, helping you just be vulnerable and drop the whole tough act and be human. you do the same for him once he comes back at night. Just taking care of each other the way you guys need.

And you can bet jason knows how to be your biggest supporter. big raise? promotion? or just a good presentation?? He is genuinely excited for you.

Will give you back rubs when you've been sitting on the desk the whole day

will cook you brunch/snacks for when you come back and you will cook him breakfast/dinner for when he does .

it will take some compromise and adjustments but its all worth it and no price at all for loveeee.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Reunion - Friends

Masterlist

Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader

Tags: SFW, platonic, friends, jealousy, feelings, blood, death, crime, guilt

It's been a week since your embarrassing parting with Dick. Since then, you threw yourself into your work and studies. It was difficult to rip yourself away at first, but the longer you kept at it, the easier the routine became. Each day became structured, starting with the gym, then classes, studying, and your internship. On top of that, you and your friends always had something planned for weekends or evenings, so you were seldom bored as you were kept plenty busy.

The routine drew you back to your old self, the one that was comfortable and wasn't concerned about the intentions or treatments of some man. It felt great!

Today, you were attending your first jury duty selection. You fixed the collar of your blouse and flattened your palms down your blazer, then skirt, taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. You were still going over the transcripts of your case as you made your way to the courtroom, not careful of where you were going. As a result, you bumped into a hard wall of muscle. "Mph!" You blinked a couple of times, adjusting to your surroundings. "Sorry!"

Said wall turned around to face you. He wore a brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt, with his detective badge tucked on the side of his belt. And he smelled like old spice, all six feet three inches of him. Your friend Tony smirked down at you. "Sup dude?"

He started law school with you and then transfered to the police academy when he decided he wanted a more "hands on" approach to fighting crime.

You grinned up at him brightly, opening your mouth, ready to greet an old friend. But then you remembered where you were and composed your festures quickly. "Good morning, Detective Ericso-"

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Tony groaned before puling you into a bear hug. "I'm off duty. Plus, I'm still a cadet."

"Well," you looked down at your now disheveled outfit. "I'm not off duty. So I have to be Profesional." Then you smiled excitedly. "I have my first jury duty selection today."

"No shit." He snapped his fingers in an exaggerated way. "Look at you, miss lawyer!"

"I know," you channeled Monica from friends as you couldn't help but grin at him. He was always a ball of energy.

"Listen, a couple of friends are meeting at Richmond's tonight for a beer. Come with us." He said.

"I..." you began to think of your plans in the evening and came up short. "Okay, I'm free. What time."

He rolled his eyes. "Around eight. And as if you had any plans to begin with, you studious loser."

You raised your arm to smack his, but then you made eye contact with an important looking man in a suit and lowered it again. "Eight. That's when i finish my day. I'll see you there! I gotta go now."

"You better!" You heard him say as you opened the door and stepped into the courtroom.

The couple of friends Tony had mentioned turned out to be two young cadets and Dick grayson.

You froze for a mere second when you walked in through the familiar doors of the bar. It was odd, yiu realized. You expected to feel a pang of something upon seeing him, but... you felt something mild. It was not pain, just... acknowledgement. Tony spotted you and waved you over. When Dick followed his friends' gaze to you, he offered you a shy smile. Surprisingly, you were very comfortable offering him one back.

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Dick smiled suggestively at you, tilting his head in the direction of the bar. "That guys been eyeing you since we sat down."

You, along with the rest of the table, turned to see who he was talking about.

At the bar, facing your table, a group of young men in suits sat drinking beers. Finance guys, by the looks of them. Not exactly the Bruce Wayne high fashion enterage, but they could have been consultants for a big firm. One of them - a cute blond with gelled hair - saught your gaze and gave you a small nod before raising his bottle to his lips. The gesture made you smile back before turning back to the group. "He's cute."

"Go talk to him." One of the other cadets, Anna, gave you a light nudge.

"Nahh." Dick drawled, leaning back in his seat. "She doesn't have to. The guy's making his way over here right now."

And surely enough, a moment later, the blond suit showed up to your table, clearing his throat. You looked up and met his gaze.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked you, glancing to the open chair beside you.

You shook your head.

"Lucky me." The blond grinned a charming grin and sat down beside you. He had a gorgeous pair of green eyes, a chiseled jaw peppered in a three day stubble and beautiful full lips that seemed really kissable. You looked down at your heart, wondering if you were really that much of a lightweight so as to be so affected by a man.

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Dick was happy.

He was happy you were comfortable around one another again. Happy your could talk to each other and laugh together. Most importantly, he was happy that you were happy. He watched you and the finance bro chat and laugh to each other, smiling at one another's jokes, exchanging contacts. Finance bro began to brush your knee with his fingers as his gaze became a little bit more heated.

You didn't seem to mind, Dick noticed. In fact, if the slight blush on your cheeks was any indication, you enjoyed the attention. You offered him a timid smile, biting down on your bottom lip.

Dick felt his smile falter.

Oh no.

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You laughed into your wineglass as your friend Tony reached to give Dick a light smack upside the head. Dick dodged at the last minute, and Tony missed.

"Dicky, how is it possible that after that many years on Earth you've never seen Harry Potter?!" Tony asked, incredulous.

Dick shook his index finger in return. "Na uh, you don't get to judge. You haven't seen Love, Actually -"

You smiled to yourself. Of course Dick Grayson was a love, actually enjoyer. You pictured him watching the romcom and tearing up at the emotional scenes.

"Dear god!" Tony dropped his head into his hands. "Apples to oranges, man! Y/n, help me out here - oh yeah. I forgot you're busy being in love."

"You're so dramatic." You murmmered, looking at your phone. "I'm literally emailing my prof."

"Oh? A contender for finance, bro?" Dick raised his brow suggestively.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You smirked. "And 'finance bros' name is Eric."

Dick raised his hands in mock surrender for in truth. He really didn't care. He also didn't like that you called finance bro by his name. He was finance, bro. A faceless fuck. Not Eric, some guy whose name, personality and life you possibly knew.

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Dick was ready to knock Tony out if he mentioned finance boy one more time. He sat on your apartment floor, wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that you knitted him as his secret Santa.

Tony sat gleefully in his hanukah sweater that your friend got for him. He was positively drunk when he raised his half finished glass of beer and announced. "I have an announcement."

The rest of the people at your apartment went quiet, patiently waiting for Tony's next words.

The young man smiled, opened his mouth to speak, and let out a long burp. The room burst into groans and murrmers of disgust.

Dick was too busy receiving an emergency alert into his earpiece.

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Dick arrived at the bank just as the day surrendered to the night. The sky above Gotham was tinged in dark blue as the bank’s alarms blared into the street.

"I’m at the location, Oracle," he murmured into his comm.

"Roger that," Barbara’s voice came through. "Security cameras show several men in ski masks inside."

"Copy." he replied, scaling the building in silence. He scanned the scene through a window: two civilians - a mother clutching her child - and a bank teller stood cowering in the corner as the masked robbers rifled through drawers.

"Need any backup?" Tim’s voice cut in.

"Negative, Baby-bird. This’ll be quick," Dick replied, his voice steady. "Enjoy your Christmas eve."

"God, he's so sappy." His brother, Jason, groaned into the comm.

"Police are en route, Nightwing," Barbara updated.

"Thanks."

He took out his batons and moved into action, precise and controlled. This was second nature - an exercise he could do in his sleep. Within moments, he had incapacitated the leader and taken down the four remaining men, who barely had a chance to react. In under a minute, every robber was either knocked out or tied up. Just as Oracle said, the police cars pulled up a moment later. Armed officers running into the bank, followed by a stoic commissioner Gordon walking in.

"Oracle, any more assailants?" Nightwing asked, breathing a little harder as he led the mother and teller toward the exit, carrying the giggling child in his arms. The little boy poked his chubby finger against Dick’s cheek, and despite the situation, Dick found himself smiling, cooing gently to reassure him.

Then, a gunshot shattered the air. Dick froze, his heart plummeting as a horrible, familiar dread took over.

"No!" he gasped, handing the child back to his mother before sprinting toward the sound.

As he rounded the corner, he saw it: one of the police officers lay in a spreading pool of blood, a discarded gun a foot away from a handcuffed robber. The scene played out, each detail sinking deep into his mind. He couldn’t look away. But... how? He's either tied or knocked all of them out!

He stumbled to Commissioner Gordon, who was kneeling beside the officer, hands trembling slightly as he took in the fatal wound.

"Is he…" Dick’s voice caught.

Gordon stood, his expression etched with grief. Slowly, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing in a heavy breath. "He’s gone, son."

The weight of those words felt like a punch to the gut, hollowing Dick out from the inside. This was what he fought against, what he trained his entire life to prevent - and tonight, he had failed. Despite every life he’d saved, it hadn’t been enough.

Hours later, Dick trudged back to his apartment, feeling like a ghost. The image of the fallen officer haunted him, replaying every step of the night until it blurred with exhaustion and guilt.

As he opened his fridge and reached for a beer, Batman’s voice came through his comm, quiet and firm. "Nightwing. What happened tonight wasn’t your fault."

"Yes, sir," he replied, swallowing against the lump in his throat, the words barely audible.

“Dick… I've gone over your body cam. You did a good job incapacitating them. It was just bad luck." Bruce’s voice softened.

"I know," he whispered, his grip on the bottle tightening.

A heavy silence hung between them before Bruce added, “Get some rest.”

The comm went silent, and Dick felt something inside him finally break. The weight of his grief, the frustration, the helplessness - all of it spilled over as he sank to the floor, alone in the dark, and let himself cry.

[tinydefector]

Behind the Scenes 2

Tim Drake x Male reader

Masterlist

Prev

Next

Word count: 6.1

Warnings: Tim being Tim in his slight stalkerish way for work.

Cut chapter three out otherwise this would have been over 11k words. So I'll edit that tomorrow at some point.

________________

The rhythmic tapping of Tim's fingers on the keyboard slowed as he stared at the email in front of him, his jaw tightening. It was yet another "gentle reminder" from the pharmaceutical marketing team about their meeting today. He hated these meetings—the endless pitches, the justifications for greed masquerading as "business strategy." Wayne Enterprises was supposed to stand for more than profit margins. That had been Bruce's vision, and it was one Tim was determined to uphold.

The sharp knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know who it was. “Come in,” Tim called, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. The door opened smoothly, revealing Lucius Fox. The older man stepped inside, his calm and collected demeanor instantly filling the room. He carried a leather-bound notebook in one hand and a tablet in the other, his expression a mixture of professionalism and mild concern.  

“It’s time,” Lucius said simply, his deep voice cutting through the quiet hum of the office. Tim let out a low sigh, his hand dropping from his face as he sat up straighter. “Right. The pharmaceutical showdown.” There was a faint, bitter edge to his voice. Lucius raised an eyebrow at Tim's tone but didn’t comment immediately. Instead, he stepped further into the office, glancing briefly at the coffee cup on Tim's desk. “Triple shot?” he asked, his tone light but knowing.

Tim smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Had to. I need all the help I can get to sit through this one.” Lucius nodded, settling into the chair across from Tim. “I can’t say I blame you. The pharmaceutical team’s proposals have been... aggressive, to put it mildly. I assume you’re planning to shut them down again?”

Tim scoffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “Of course. There’s no way I’m letting them push a campaign to jack up prices on essential meds. Insulin, for crying out loud. Amoxicillin. Levothyroxine. These aren’t luxury items. People need them to survive.” His voice rose slightly, frustration slipping through his usually composed exterior, but it was something he was passionate about, not to mention something that affected, not nearly as much as others, but with one of those medications being one he used it was a subject he was very willing to fight over. 

Lucius regarded him carefully, his expression thoughtful. “ You know they’re going to push back harder this time. They’ve already been courting some of the board members, trying to sway them to their side.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Tim muttered, his fingers drumming against the desk. “I’ve seen the emails. The ‘we’re only doing this for the good of the company’ spiel. As if gutting our reputation and alienating the people who rely on us is good for anyone.” Lucius sighed, adjusting his glasses. “It’s a delicate balance, Mr. Drake. The board still has to answer to shareholders. Some of them might see this as an opportunity to boost profits.”

Tim’s eyes darkened, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m going to shut this down. We’re not some faceless corporation that only cares about the bottom line. This is Wayne Enterprises. We’re supposed to do better.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Lucius’s mouth. “You sound like Bruce.”

Tim hesitated, then gave a small nod, the weight of Lucius’s words settling over him. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “That means a lot.” Lucius straightens his jacket. “Well, we’d better get to it. The board’s already gathered, and I’m sure Marketing is eager to make their case.” Tim rose, grabbing his tablet and the half-empty cup. He lingered for a moment, his fingers tightening around the tablet as if bracing himself. “Let’s do this.”

Together, they walked down the hallway toward the boardroom, their footsteps echoing against the polished floors. Tim’s mind raced, already preparing counterarguments and anticipating the tactics the pharmaceutical team would use, he knew it all already, as much as he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he had seen all the emails passed between different board members, and knew the words different executives would say. Bruce would say it was Paranoia to be this into it, stalking people's emails and ‘private’ work conversations, Tim on the other hand believed it was being thorough and Knowing his enemy. 

When they reached the boardroom, the double doors loomed before them. Tim took a deep breath, his expression hardening into the calm, resolute mask he wore for these kinds of battles. Lucius gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before pushing the doors open. The room was filled with the murmur of voices, the long conference table surrounded by board members and executives. At the far end, the representatives from Marketing and Pharmaceuticals were already seated, their polished smiles and expensive suits doing little to disguise their predatory intent. They wanted to play predator. Tim would show them what happens when you think the hunter is prey.

As Tim stepped inside, the room quieted. All eyes turned to him, and for a brief moment, the weight of the company’s legacy seemed to rest squarely on his shoulders. But he didn’t falter. He squared his shoulders, walked to his seat at the head of the table, and set his tablet down with a quiet thud as he takes his seat elegantly. 

“Good Morning,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “Let’s get started.”

The boardroom was tense, the air thick with the weight of the discussion about to take place, many picking up on the way Tim Drake’s presence seems to almost shift the air of the room, he wasn't trapped in here with them,they were trapped with Him. Tim sat at the head of the long conference table, His fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood, a steady rhythm that betrays nothing of his thoughts to them.

Around him, the board members murmured quietly, and the team from Marketing and Pharmaceuticals sat with their polished smiles, exuding the confidence of people who thought they were about to win. Lucius sat to Tim’s right, When the room finally settled and all eyes turned to him, Tim leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“Alright,” he began, his voice steady but sharp. “What is your proposal? you pulled me away from my family for this meeting, I hope it is worth my time” he states plainly, his icy blue eyes focusing in on the head members, who squirm slightly under his gaze. One thing was for sure, Tim Drake may have been young but he held a Boardroom with more power than Bruce ever did, Bruce used charm to win over people's hearts, Tim used cold hard facts, logistics and blackmail when he felt it. 

The head of Wayne Pharmaceuticals, a man named Eric Drayton, cleared his throat and stood. He adjusted his tie as he began to speak, his tone practiced and smooth. “Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne. As you know, over the last quarter, we’ve seen a significant rise in production costs, particularly in the pharmaceutical division. After careful analysis, our team believes that a modest increase in the pricing of certain medications—such as insulin, amoxicillin, and levothyroxine—would allow us to maintain profitability while continuing to deliver high-quality products.”

Tim’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, letting Drayton continue. “The marketing department has already prepared a campaign to frame this adjustment in a way that emphasizes the value and innovation Wayne Pharmaceuticals brings to the market. We believe that this will not only bolster shareholder confidence but also ensure we remain competitive in the global pharmaceutical industry.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable but he doesn't blink and it's clear he's unsettling a few attendees. When Drayton finally sat down, clearly pleased with himself, Tim let the silence hang in the air for a moment. Then, he leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Let me make sure I understand your proposal,” Tim began, his tone calm but the ice in it cuts. “Your big idea to ‘maintain profitability’ is to price-gouge people for life-saving medication. You want to charge more for insulin, amoxycillin, and levothyroxine—medications that people literally depend on to stay alive. Is that correct?”

Drayton shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his polished confidence faltering under Tim’s sharp gaze. “Well, it’s not ‘price-gouging,’ Mr. Drake-Wayne. It’s—”

“It’s exactly price-gouging,” Tim says, cutting him off. “Let me give you an example. In Australia, insulin packs cost $6.94 that is after Tax and with their healthcare system, it does Vary but Australia has a protection on Medical and medications, but that’s what people pay for it. In America, the same insulin costs $98.70. *Before* tax. And you want Wayne Pharmaceuticals to join in on this racket? To charge people even more for something they can’t live without?”

The room was silent, the weight of Tim’s words pressing down on everyone. Drayton opened his mouth to respond, but Tim didn’t give him the chance. “And let’s talk about Wayne Pharmaceuticals’ insulin,” Tim continued, his voice growing sharper. “Right now, we currently charge $23 for it before it's Taxed by the chemist. That’s already more than triple the cost in Australia. And now you’re saying we need to raise the price even higher? If I may Mr Drayton, do you currently use medication?”

Drayton cleared his throat, his face reddening. “Mr. Drake-Wayne, with all due respect, these adjustments are necessary to keep up with rising costs and—” 

“Don’t,” Tim said, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t try to justify this to me. I take amoxycillin due to my immune system being compromised from my Spleen. I know exactly how often I need new prescriptions for it due to not having a Spleen, which is an organ that I can live without, and I know exactly how much it costs. I can afford it because of my position here and because of my family’s wealth. But what about the people who can’t? What about the single parents, the minimum-wage workers, the people who are already drowning in medical debt? Do you honestly think they’re going to look at your ‘modest price increase’ and say, ‘Oh, yes, I’d love to spend even more of my paycheck on staying alive’? Or are they just going to stop taking their medication altogether because they can’t afford it?”

Drayton looked like he wanted to sink into his chair, but Tim wasn’t done. “And if you think the public is just going to roll over and accept this, I’d suggest you take a look at what happened in New York. The CEO of United Healthcare was gunned down in the street. And you know what the public’s reaction was? Nothing. No one cared, they celebrated it. Because he’d spent his career profiting off people’s deaths, and everyone knew it.”

His words cut through the room like ice. “Is that what you want Wayne Enterprises to become? A company so reviled that people cheer when one of our executives gets taken out? Because if we go down this road, that’s exactly where we’re headed.” 

Lucius, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Mr. Drake is right. Wayne Enterprises has always prided itself on being a company that puts people first, we are known as a world class company for affordability for everyone. If we abandon that now, we’ll lose more than just our reputation. We’ll lose the trust of the people who rely on us. And without that trust, no profit.”

Tim nodded, his gaze sweeping over the room. “If Wayne Enterprises wants to stay a leading company—if we want to remain the most sought-after name in the industry not only in America but the world, then we need to stand for something more than profits. We need to stand for people. And if anyone here thinks otherwise, I suggest you find another company to work for, because I’m not budging on this. And if anyone tries to bring this proposal to me again it will be thrown out before the Email even reaches me”

The room was silent, the weight of Tim’s words hanging in the air. Drayton looked like he wanted to argue, but one glance at the determined set of Tim’s jaw told him it would be pointless. “Any other questions?” Tim asked, his voice sharp.

No one spoke.

“Good,” he said, standing and grabbing his tablet. “This meeting is over. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your day, I have another meeting to attend too” And with that, Tim strode out of the room, leaving the stunned board members and executives behind.

The boardroom door clicked shut behind Tim, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway as he made his way back to his office, his mind still replaying the meeting. He could still feel the tension in the room, the weight of the arguments, and the barely restrained frustration threatening to boil over. But it was done. For now, at least.

When he reached his office, Tim pushed the door open and stepped inside, letting it close softly behind him. His eyes immediately darted to the espresso machine in the corner. The idea of another triple shot espresso was tempting—too tempting. He stood there for a moment, staring at it like he was trying to will himself to resist. Finally, he shook his head.

turning away from the machine. Instead, he moved to the small fridge tucked under the counter. Pulling the door open, he grabbed a cold bottle of apple and blackcurrant juice. The condensation felt cool against his palm as he twisted the cap off and took a long sip. The tart, sweet flavor was refreshing, and for the first time that morning, he felt himself start to relax, just a little.

Tim crossed the room and sank into his office chair, the leather creaking softly beneath him. He leaned back, letting the cool juice wash away the residual bitterness of the meeting. For a moment, he closed his eyes, the faint hum of the building around him a comforting white noise. The knock on his door was soft but didn’t surprise him. He didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. “Come in, Lucius.”

Lucius stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He carried the same leather-bound notebook he’d had in the meeting, but his posture was more relaxed now, his expression less formal. He walked over to one of the chairs across from Tim’s desk and sat down, setting the notebook on his lap. “You handled that well,” Lucius said, his voice calm and steady. “Firm, clear, and you didn’t let them sidestep the issue.”

Tim gave a small, humorless chuckle, swirling the juice in the bottle. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be getting any Christmas cards from Drayton this year.” Lucius smiled faintly. “I doubt you were ever on his list to begin with. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you made the right call. The board needed to hear it, and so did the pharmaceutical team.”

Tim sighed, setting the juice bottle down on his desk with a soft thud. “They’re not going to stop, you know. Drayton, the marketing team, the board members who only care about the shareholders—they’ll keep pushing. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but they’ll try again.”

“Of course they will,” Lucius said. “That’s the nature of the business. But as long as you’re here, Tim, they’ll know they have to fight for every inch. And that kind of resistance can make them think twice.” Tim leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I just... I hate that we even have to have these conversations. This isn’t what Wayne Enterprises is supposed to be. It’s not who we are.”

Tim looked down at the desk, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the wood grain. “It’s just... exhausting. Knowing that every day there’s going to be another fight. Another argument. Another group of people trying to convince me to put profits over people, especially in that industry.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a few moments, the tension from the morning slowly ebbing away. Tim reached for his juice and took another sip, the tart sweetness grounding him.  

Finally, Lucius stood, smoothing his jacket. “I’ll let you get back to it. But if you need anything”

“I know,” Tim said, looking up at him with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Lucius.”

Lucius nodded and made his way to the door, leaving Tim alone in the quiet of his office. Tim leaned back in his chair again, staring up at the ceiling as he let out a long breath. The fight wasn’t over. not by a long shot, but for now, he’d won. And that was something.

Tim glanced at his watch, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His next meeting wasn’t in some stuffy boardroom or sterile office space—it was at the Wayne Enterprises steel manufacturing and shipping plant with Mr. Brill. Out of all the meetings he had to attend, this one was a rare bright spot.  

Brill was one of the good ones, a man who didn’t just care about deadlines and quotas but about the people who worked under him. He was the kind of manager Tim wished every department had, hardworking, down-to-earth, and fiercely protective of his teams, he wasn’t a head but as leading hand of manufacturing Tim had made it very clear he would be dealing with him instead of another Executive. It was evident in everything he did: the way he supervised, the way he fought for fair wages and better conditions.

By the time Tim arrived at the steel plant, the familiar hum of machinery and the rhythmic clang of metal filled the air. The factory floor was bustling with activity. workers in hardhats and safety vests moving between massive equipment, forklifts whirring as they transported raw materials, and the faint smell of oil and heated metal clinging to the air.  

Mr. Brill was already waiting for him near the entrance, his broad frame and weathered face instantly recognizable. He was leaning against a railing, clipboard in hand, scanning over some papers. The moment he spotted Tim, he broke into a wide grin. “Mr. Drake!” Brill called, his voice booming over the din of the factory. He strode forward, extending a hand. “Good to see you again, son.”  

Tim returned the handshake with a warm smile. “Good to see you too, Brill. And please, drop the ‘Mr.’ stuff. Just Tim.” Brill chuckled, the deep sound echoing as he clapped Tim on the shoulder. “You say that every time, and I still can’t get used to it. But alright, Tim. Let’s get started. Got plenty to show you.” The two of them set off across the factory floor, walking side by side. Workers glanced up as they passed, offering nods and waves, which Tim returned with ease.  

“How’s the team doing?” Tim asked, his voice raised slightly to be heard over the noise. Brill’s grin widened. “They’re doing good, real good. We’ve been hitting our production targets ahead of schedule, and the new safety protocols you approved last quarter? They’ve made a world of difference. Injuries are down, morale’s up. Can’t thank you enough for pushing that through. we have had 12% increase in sales, not to mention contracts”  

Tim waved it off. “You’re the one who brought it to my attention. All I did was make sure it got funded.” Brill nodded appreciatively. “Still, we all know it wouldn’t have happened without you backing it. These guys out here? They notice things like that. They know who’s looking out for them.” As they walked, Tim took in the sights around him. Workers moved with practiced efficiency, their faces focused but not strained. There was a sense of camaraderie in the air, a stark contrast to the corporate world Tim had just left behind, it was like a den of hungry wolves waiting for a scrap.  

“You’ve got a good crew here,” Tim said as they climbed a set of metal stairs that overlooked the factory floor. “That I do,” Brill agreed, his tone proud. “Best damn team in the business, if you ask me.” They stopped at the railing, looking out over the bustling plant. Brill gestured with his clipboard. “So, here’s the deal. We’ve got a couple of new contracts coming in over the next few months, big ones. Steel for infrastructure projects, mostly. Bridges, rail lines, that sort of thing. It’s going to ramp up production, but we’re ready for it. Got the equipment, got the manpower. Only thing we’ll need is approval for some overtime pay to make sure the night crews are covered.”  

Tim nodded thoughtfully. “Consider it approved with time and a half added as an extra benefit on top of it. If this is going to put extra strain on your team, they deserve to be compensated for it.”  

Brill’s grin returned. “Knew you’d say that. I already told the guys to expect it.” Tim smirked. “You’re making me predictable, Brill.”  

“Predictable in the best way,” Brill said with a chuckle. “It’s why the guys out here respect you. You don’t just talk, the talk. you walk it. That matters. your not a suit to these men, funny enough you take after Bruce”  

Tim leaned against the railing, his gaze drifting over the factory floor. It was easy to get caught up in the chaos of corporate meetings, budgets, and shareholder reports, but being here, seeing the faces of the people who actually made Wayne Enterprises run, reminded him of why he fought so hard to keep the company’s values intact.  

After a few more minutes of discussion about logistics, safety protocols, and upcoming projects, Brill led Tim back down to the floor. As they walked, workers continued to wave and call out greetings, and Tim made a point to respond to each one. When they finally reached the exit, Brill turned to him, his expression warm. “Thanks for coming out, Tim. It means a lot to the crew and to me.”  

Tim kept walking alongside Brill, the steady hum of the factory floor a comforting backdrop to their conversation. His hand rested lightly on the steel railing as they passed rows of machinery, workers busy at their stations. He couldn’t help but think about how much he preferred this—the clanging of metal, the smell of grease and oil, the laughter and banter of workers over the constant, sterile chatter of executives, shareholders, and marketing teams. These were the people Tim appreciated. The ones who kept the company running. 

“If I could, I’d spend the whole day down here,” Tim said, half-joking but with a trace of honesty in his voice. Brill laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed over the noise of the factory. “Can’t say I’d blame you. Sure beats sitting in some stuffy office all day, doesn’t it?”  

“You have no idea,” Tim replied, glancing over at one of the welding stations where a worker gave them a quick nod. Tim returned the gesture with a small wave. “The meetings today have been... let’s just say I’d rather be anywhere else.” Brill raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. “Rough morning already?”  

Tim snorted softly, his expression hardening just a little. “You could say that. Some office heads decided it was a good time to try and pitch a price hike on our medications. Insulin, amoxycillin, levothyroxine. They tried to frame it as a business strategy.” Brill’s face darkened at that, his hand tightening around the clipboard he was holding. “You’re kidding me.” 

“I wish I was,” Tim said, his tone sharp. “They were throwing out all the usual excuses ‘production costs,’ ‘shareholder confidence,’ ‘maintaining profitability.’ But it’s all just corporate-speak for ‘let’s see how much more we can squeeze out of people before they break.’”  

Brill shook his head, his expression grim. “You shut them down, though, right?” Tim gave him a sidelong glance. “What do you think?” Brill cracked a small grin despite the frustration on his face. “Good.”  

Tim stopped walking for a moment, turning to face Brill fully. “You know what pisses me off the most? You. Your team. These guys are out here. You’re the ones I think about when they start pulling that crap. I know plenty of people here rely on Wayne Pharma medications.”  

Brill’s expression softened, and he rested a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Tim. Not a lot of people in your position would give a damn about this stuff. Most of them wouldn’t even know what their workers are dealing with, let alone care.”  

Tim shrugged, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting Brill’s gaze again. “It’s not hard to care when you actually look around. These guys work their asses off every day. They deserve better. And it’s not just about them, it’s personal for me, too. I’ve been on amoxycillin since I was 13. I know how often I need to refill the prescription.”  

Brill watched him carefully, his respect for Tim deepening with every word. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, kid. Bruce would be proud.” Tim smiled faintly at that, though there was a sadness in his eyes. “I hope so. I’m trying to do right by him. By all of this.” He gestured to the factory around them.  

Tim was leaning casually against a railing, chatting with Brill about one of the new infrastructure contracts, when he spotted a familiar figure moving through the bustling factory floor. It was hard to miss Alfred he was impeccably dressed as always, his suit and tie a stark contrast to the high-vis vests and steel-toed boots surrounding him. Yet, despite his formal attire, Alfred moved through the factory with ease, his calm presence blending seamlessly with the industrious energy of the workers.  

He was speaking to one of the crew, a man in high-vis gesturing toward Tim. Alfred nodded politely, offering a small smile before continuing in Tim’s direction.  Brill turned to see what had caught Tim’s attention and let out a low chuckle. “Looks like you’ve got company.” Tim laughs. “Of course I do. Alfred always finds me.”  

“That man’s got a sixth sense when it comes to you, doesn’t he?”  

“You have no idea,” Tim muttered with a grin.  

When Alfred finally reached them, he gave a polite nod to Brill before turning his attention to Tim. “Master Timothy,” he said in his usual calm tone, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I see you’re keeping yourself busy.” Tim waved a hand toward the factory around him. “Just catching up with Brill and the team. Honestly, I’d happily spend the rest of the day here if it meant avoiding another meeting.” Brill laughed, clapping Tim on the back. “You’re welcome anytime, Tim. But something tells me Alfred’s not here to let you hang around.”  

“You would be correct, Mr. Brill,” Alfred replied with a faint smile. “I’m here to collect Master Timothy for his scheduled outing” Tim groaned playfully, though there was a hint of genuine reluctance in his tone. “Right. I almost forgot about that.”  Alfred raised an eyebrow, a smile working its way to his lips. “I highly doubt that, sir. You promised me this morning that you’d make time for it.”  

Brill chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I won’t keep you, Tim. But don’t be a stranger, alright? You’re always welcome here.” “Thanks, Brill,” Tim said, shaking his hand firmly. “And thanks for everything you do. Seriously.”  Brill waved him off. “Just doing my job. You take care.”  

With that, Brill turned and headed back toward the factory floor, leaving Tim and Alfred standing by the railing. Tim glanced around the bustling factory one last time, feeling the faint pull of wanting to stay.  

As they exited the factory, the noise of the machinery faded behind them, replaced by the hum of the city. Alfred led the way to the sleek black car waiting just outside, holding the door open for Tim. Finally, he sighed and slid into the car. As Alfred took his seat in the driver’s position and started the engine, Tim leaned back, the faint smell of steel and oil still lingering in his mind.  

“Alright, Alfred,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s go pick out some plants.” The car pulled away from the factory, heading toward the nursery. And though Tim’s mind was already drifting back to the battles he’d fought that morning.

True to his word, Alfred made a slight detour on the way to the nursery, pulling the car up to the curb outside Tim’s favorite café. It was a cozy little spot nestled on a quiet street corner, the kind of place that didn’t rely on flashy signs or gimmicks to draw customers. Instead, it was all about the warm atmosphere, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting out the door. Tim perked up as the car slowed, his earlier reluctance to leave the factory melting into a small smile. “Thanks, Alfred. You didn’t have to, you know.”  

“Nonsense,” Alfred replied, cutting the engine as he glanced at Tim in the rearview mirror. “I believe I recall someone declaring this café’s iced Lungo to be ‘the single greatest invention mankind has ever achieved.’ I couldn’t possibly deny you such brilliance on a day like today.”  

Tim laughed, shaking his head as he opened the car door. “Did I really say that?” “You did,” Alfred said, his tone dry but fond. “Though I refrained from reminding you that the same could be said for the wheel, penicillin, and indoor plumbing.”  

Tim grinned as he stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him. “Fair point. I’ll keep that in mind.” The café was already buzzing with its usual mid-afternoon crowd, the hum of quiet conversations mixing with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. As Tim walked through the door, the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods enveloped him, instantly making him feel just a little more at ease.  

“Tim!” one of the baristas called from behind the counter, a young woman with a bright smile and a teal streak in her hair. “The usual?” “You know it, Jess,” Tim replied, leaning casually against the counter. “How’s it going today?”  

“Same old, same old,” Jess said as she started working on his drink. “Though I’m guessing your day hasn’t been quite as mellow, huh? You’ve got that ‘already over it’ look.” Tim chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “You have no idea.”  

Jess smirked as she handed him his drink. “Well, at least you’ve got this. One iced Lungo, with an extra shot of espresso because I’m guessing you’ll need it.” “You’re a lifesaver,” Tim said, handing her a generous tip before taking a sip. The rich, smooth flavor hit him instantly, and he let out a satisfied sigh. “Perfect as always.”  

“Glad you think so,” Jess said, waving him off as another customer approached the counter. “Take care, Tim!” Tim gave her a small wave as he headed back out to the car, the drink already working its magic. Alfred had the door open for him by the time he reached the curb, and Tim slid back into his seat with a grateful nod.  

“Feel better, sir?” Alfred asked as he started the car again, merging smoothly into the light afternoon traffic. “Much,” Tim replied, holding up the drink like it was a trophy. “This is exactly what I needed.”  

“Excellent,” Alfred said, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Now, if you’re properly fortified, we can continue to the nursery.” Tim chuckled, leaning back in his seat as the car moved through the city streets.  

As they approached the plant nursery, Tim glanced out the window, his thoughts starting to shift. He was looking forward to the greenery, the quiet, and the chance to spend some time with Alfred away from the chaos of Wayne Enterprises. The drive to the nursery was surprisingly pleasant. The city’s bustling energy gradually gave way to quieter streets lined with trees and the occasional glimpse of open fields, a rare sight that Tim couldn’t help but appreciate, even if he wasn’t particularly looking forward to the task ahead. Alfred, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. Tim caught the faint smile on the older man’s face as the car rolled to a stop in front of the nursery’s entrance.

The nursery itself was charming, a sprawling space filled with rows of vibrant plants, earthy tones, and the sweet, clean scent of flowers and soil. A hand-painted wooden sign reading "Sarah's Green Thumb Nursery" hung above the entrance gate, swaying slightly in the gentle breeze. Beyond the entrance.

Alfred turned off the car and looked over at Tim, his smile still lingering. “Here we are, Master Timothy. I’m sure you’ll manage to survive this ordeal, even if it’s not a boardroom battle.” Tim rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Alfred.”  

“Guilty as charged,” Alfred replied smoothly, stepping out of the car.  

Tim followed, stretching briefly before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He glanced around the nursery, taking in the sight of vibrant flowers, rows of potted plants, and the occasional worker moving between tasks.  As they approached the main office, the door swung open, and Sarah, the owner of the nursery, stepped out. She was in her late 40s, her sun-kissed skin and earth-stained overalls a testament to the amount of time she spent working outdoors. Her warm smile widened when she spotted Alfred.  

“Alfred!” she called, wiping her hands on a towel slung over her shoulder. “It’s been ages!”  

“Not that long, Sarah,” Alfred replied with a chuckle, shaking her hand firmly. “You’re as lively as ever, I see.”  

“And you’re as sharp as ever,” Sarah quipped before turning to Tim. “And this must be the ‘young man’ you’ve been telling me about. Tim, right?”  Tim offered a polite smile, shaking her hand. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Sarah.”  

“Likewise,” Sarah said, her eyes twinkling. “Alfred’s been singing your praises for years. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Tim shot Alfred a look. “You’ve been talking about me?”  

“Only occasionally,” Alfred said innocently. “Mostly when I’m in need of an amusing anecdote.”  

Sarah laughed as Tim sighed dramatically. “Well, don’t worry, Tim. We’ll go easy on you today. We’ve got plenty of plants to look at, but I promise we’ll make it as painless as possible.”  

Tim smirked. “I appreciate that.”  

As Sarah led them deeper into the nursery, she pointed out various sections of flowering plants, shrubs, herbs, and the greenhouse where some of the more delicate plants were kept. Workers bustled around, potting plants, trimming leaves, and watering rows of greenery.  Tim’s gaze wandered as they walked, eventually catching sight of one of the larger greenhouses. Inside, a young man was working diligently, earbuds in as he hummed along to whatever music was playing. He moved with practiced ease, pruning plants, arranging them neatly on benches, and sorting orders with a quiet focus.  

Tim found himself watching for a moment, intrigued by the calm yet efficient way he worked. There was something oddly soothing about it—seeing someone so at ease, so immersed in their task. Sarah noticed Tim’s attention and glanced toward the greenhouse. “That’s Y/N,” she said with a smile. “He’s one of our best. Always up early, always working hard, and somehow always in a good mood. I don’t know how he does it, but the plants seem to love him.”  

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You make him sound like a plant whisperer.” “Sometimes I think he might be,” Sarah said with a laugh. “He’s been helping me here for a while now. Great kid. If you need someone to find a particular plant, he’s your guy.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tim said, his tone light but genuine. Alfred, of course, noticed Tim’s interest and gave a knowing smile. “Perhaps you should introduce yourself, sir..”  Tim shook his head slightly, though he was still watching Y/N from the corner of his eye as the young man carefully placed a potted mix of Peonies onto a waiting cart. “Maybe later. Let’s get through the plant selection first.” “Very well,” Alfred said, with a content hum. 

_______________

[rokishimizu4]

A big brother’s sick day

Sorry everyone for such a long wait, from family drama to being sick, it has been a month and I want it to be done.

For @gaytransratboy, thanks for the request.

Enjoy this little snippet of my BatFam story

TW: Reader being sick and mentions of Joker venom

The frantic pounding of heavy combat boots against the carpeted hallway as Alfred struggles to get his suit jacket over his pajamas, but a swift kick against Alfred’s bedroom door made him give up on that idea entirely.

“Master Jason! What on?” He was quickly silenced as the bedroom door was kicked open and Jason rushed in with a squirming bundle of black and purple goo in his arms, his eyes wide and face paler than the moon outside.

“Grandpa!!” Jason yells in pure panic as he rushes into Alfred, almost knocking them both over if Alfred didn’t right himself up with the help of the struggling child, or Sleeper as they like to be called.

It has been quite some time since Alfred has taken care of a sick child, since Damian rarely gets sick and Tim is too stubborn to be taken care of for more than an hour or so, and it does not fill his heart seeing the agony on his youngest grandchild’s face.

“I don’t know what happened! Sleeps just literally dropped in on me as I was patrolling and Mare (Symbiot’s name for now) was screaming about the cold and how it burns!” Jason tries to explain as Alfred carefully takes Sleeper away from Jason and carefully sets them down on his bed.

A short, but quick, examination allows Alfred to see that somehow Sleeper breathed in some Joker venom, which made them have something similar to the flu.

“Master Jason, I need you to go start the bath. Set it to warm, not hot like you and your brothers like and not cold. I will also need our best towels, the softer the better, and a clean pair of pajamas.” Alfred turns away from Jason to allow him to carry on his new tasks, and to deal with the most difficult task.

“Master Bruce, Master Dick, I have been a butler for the Wayne family since Master Bruce was a baby. I have already gave Master Damian a list of what I will need for the human half of Sleeper. I will be damned with I cannot take care of another child in my care!”

Alfred turns to the whimpering mass of alien and child, withering in pain as he carefully wraps them into his soaked blankets and carry them into the connecting bathroom, where Jason sits testing the water with his hands and adjusting little by little.

“Should be warm enough, don’t know how our little sleep demon can get sick, but I just..” Alfred cuddles Sleeper in his other arm as he places a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“Her and Mare will need all the rest that they can get. You are doing your job as their big brother by helping me get them cleaned and warmed back up. Have faith in yourself young man.”

“Heh, alright Bruce two.” Jason jokes as he helps Alfred unwrap Sleeper from the massive burrito blanket roll and watches as Mare slowly pulls away from their human half, only to start throwing up in the toilet.

“There there, let it out. It will do the body much better to get that bloody gunk out of your system.” Alfred takes a cold rag from Jason and holds it against Mare’s thick leather-like skin, only to take it away when it hissed at him.

“So cold equals bad, thanks for telling us.” Jason grumbles as Mare pulls far enough away, or sinks in Jason couldn’t be bothered to ask, for him to see Sleeps sickly pale skin, thankfully not a hint of green in sight.

However, both him and Alfred stops when they see the ace bandages wrapped tightly around Sleep’s chest. They both turn to look at Mare, who was trying to get rid of the taste of bile.

“Sleeper is us, We are Sleeper.” Was his only response as he spits some more bile down into the toilet bowl, before returning to their body, to deal with the rest of this so-called ‘Joker Venom’.

“So a they, yeah lets just go with that.” Jason grumbles as he unwraps the dirty ace bandages, and lets Alfred handle the rest.

“I will be in charge of Master Sleeper’s care for the time being. Master Jason..”

“Yeah, I know.” Jason says as he cocks a few hand guns on his person, setting out to do damage control, both inside the manor and outside.

Alfred turns back to Sleeper and allows Mare to help him clean them off. “Don’t worry Master Sleeper, no one will ever harm you again.”

Hope you guys enjoy. I don’t really know what I want to name the Symbiotic and the Reader. I want to do a fear and sleep theme. Let me know what you guys think. Also, I don’t like using Y/N or You for my stories unless it’s in the reader’s POV. Don’t ask me why.

[sentient-kryptonite]

Connie knocked on the door of Kaia's house, adjusting her leather jacket slightly, waiting to be let in. She hoped she would make a good first impression with Kaia's mom- though considering her record, that was unlikely. Should she have ditched the jacket? ...Nah- no way! That would be crazy- she would be totally fine with it- right?

@official-conniekent

Kaia opened the door of Wayne Manor where she and her family were currently staying.

"Hi!!"

She happily greeted Connie.

( @hi-its-kat tagging you in case you want to interact in this)

[jackleathers]

Adjustable Wayne Leather Jacket

Is vintage, heritage or retro your style? Then you’ll love the Held 52021.47 *Wayne*. Of course, this thick cowhide jacket, with eye-catching stripes, has everything you could wish for in a modern leather jacket.

Comfort/features:

Adjustable at the hip

All-round connection zipper

Comfort collar with soft edge

2 outside pockets

2 inside pockets 1 document pocket

Protection:

Removable shoulder and elbow soft protectors

Elbow protectors are height-adjustable

ISO 4916 safety seams at the impact points

Optional: SUPER SHIELD back protector can be retrofitted

[ledalasombra]

The Granddaughter - Chapter 2: family

"Tikki, I'll have to talk to Sass later about this. Honestly, I didn't expect my grandfather…" Marinette spoke as she saw Tikki stopping in front of the mirror. The little Kwami smiled sympathetically. "I don't have time for that right now. Later…" 

"I'm sure Sass will be able to explain this better. But it's not the right time, don't get your head in spiral right now… Let's go so you won't be late." She said returning to the pocket of the jacket she was initially.

Marinete took a deep breath, compartmentalizing the problem and leaving it in the back of her mind for her to solve later, leaving the bathroom afterwards.

Damian was not having a good day. First, he failed to rest properly. He had arrived from a trip a few hours ago and, to avoid jet lag, he chose not to sleep. He tried to take Titus for a walk and ended up having to dodge some paparazzi when leaving the park and, to top it off, his father had informed him that he was forbidden to initiate any investigation during his classes at the university. Definitely not the best of his days. After feeding Titus and Alfred the cat, Damian went downstairs to see if Alfred needed any help when he found a woman in the hallway, automatically putting himself in an alert position, looking around and observing the person in front of him. She had a short, athletic build and was dressed in dark jeans with dark red heeled boots. She wore a leather jacket the same shade as her boots with her hair in a French braid.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Damian spoke sharply, seeing her tense up as soon as she heard his voice. He took a step forward, watching her step back, looking him up and down.

As soon as Marinete left the bathroom she heard a male voice, getting alert immediately. She turned slowly, getting into a defensive position, watching the man in front of her. He was tall, with obvious muscles and he was glaring at her? She didn't try to decipher or understand what was going on at the moment. She watched him approach, simultaneously taking a step back, hearing him speak again.

"I'll repeat it just this once. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Marinette looked at him, frowning then taking another step back and adjusting her posture. She began to observe the corridor they were in, the objects and everything she could take advantage of at the moment, hearing the kitchen door open behind her.

Alfred had just finished talking to Bruce and was leaving to find Marinette when he heard a voice in the hallway. He left quickly, watching the interaction between Damian and Marinette, both in defensive positions.

"Master Damian, I'm sure I taught you how to treat visitors well." He spoke, seeing both relax. "Marinette, my dear, let me introduce Master Damian, son of Master Bruce. Damian, this is my granddaughter, Marinette" he said putting a hand on his granddaughter's shoulder who gave a slight smile towards her grandfather "she will be starting classes at Gotham University, just like you."

"I didn't know you had a granddaughter Alfred. I'm sorry for my earlier behavior miss." He spoke, extending his hand towards her.

Marinette looked him up and down, her face relaxing giving a light smile. "Nice to meet you. It's not specifically a secret, but we like to keep that information to ourselves." She paused, turning her attention to her grandfather. "I need to go now Alfred, but I'll call you so we can finish our earlier conversation."

"I'll accompany you to the bike, my dear. This way…" Alfred said, indicating the way for her to follow him. "Dinner will be served in 15 minutes. I suggest you get organized and head over there."

"Have a good night Mr. Wayne, Damian" the young woman said, nodding slightly, following her grandfather towards the door. She hugged the older one tightly as soon as they reached the vehicle, picking up the helmet next. She put her purse in the bike's compartment, turning her attention back to her grandfather. "I'll text you when I get to the restaurant and as soon as I get home, okay?" She spoke with her helmet visor open, looking at him.

"Be careful on the way. I'll wait for your message and I'll call you tomorrow. Take care of yourself, please sweetheart."

"I Will" Marinette gave a slight smile, seeing a motorcycle approaching and stopping beside her. She squeezed Alfred's hand in such a way as to reassure him that she would be fine, getting on the bike next, listening to the man beside her talking to her grandfather.

"Good night Alfie!" He said, stopping beside Alfred, looking at Marinette on the bike as he crossed his arms. "It's a beautiful bike, fast, powerful and with beautiful curves." he spoke looking at the black Kawasaki with red details and then at the woman.

Marinette's eyes widened, shaking her head and laughing lightly. "Thank you, I guess?" she spoke towards Jason, turning her attention to Alfred "I Will wait for your call tomorrow Alfred." She spoke starting the bike and heading to the exit, leaving towards the restaurant where she would meet her uncle.

"Who was she Alfred?" Jason asked, following the butler into the house.

"I'll explain later Master Jason, for now go call everyone I'll serve dinner." he replied heading towards the kitchen. About fifteen minutes later, the table was already set when the members of the house started to arrive and help themselves afterwards.

"So Alfred, the young lady who was talking to you in the doorway a few minutes ago, she was leaving when I arrived..." Jason started to speak when he was cut off by Tim.

"Did anyone come here today?" Tim said taking the cell phone and looking at the security cameras, seeing Stephanie leaning over him.

"Wow, she's pretty!" Stephanie said. "Who is she?"

"You didn't see her on the bike outside. The curves… of the bike!" He said looking at the butler who was a grandfather figure to everyone at the table "Could you do the honors and introduce her?" He said seeing the image on the cell phone and then passing it to Dick, seeing Damian smirk.

Alfred just sighed, coughing lightly. " The young woman who was here a little while ago is my granddaughter Marinette Pennyworth Dupain-Cheng. She lived with her adoptive parents and moved a little while ago because she will start studying at Gotham University" he finished talking seeing Jason widen his eyes " I would greatly appreciate Master Jason that you would be very careful how you speak of my granddaughter." He spoke seeing Damian smile while the others laughed.

"I didn't know Julia had a daughter Alfred. The last time you mentioned her was fifteen years ago" Dick said as soon as he managed to control his laughter.

"You have a daughter and a granddaughter? How did I not know that?" Tim commented by looking at Dick once he finished talking about Julia.

Alfred stopped eating, placing the cutlery he used on the table. He heard his own phone vibrate, glanced at it briefly and checked the message that Marinette was at the restaurant. He took a deep breath and was a little relieved, seeing Tim's curious look, then speaking. " Julia, my daughter, was born from a relationship I had after the war. She and her husband passed away 15 years ago and left a 4 year-old daughter, Marinette. As you may remember, Gotham and the mansion could not be considered the best places at the time to raise a child who needed all the stability of a family. Julia had already expressed her wish that, should anything happen to her, Marinette should stay with her honorary brother Tom Dupain. After we talked later of the incident we thought it best to leave her in a more stable environment."

"I'm so sorry Alfred. I didn't know you had to give up your family again for… us." Dick spoke, then looked at his father.

"Don't worry about it Master Dick. In return I expect you to do me a favor and I've already requested the same thing from your father. I hope each of you will respect her privacy. She doesn't deserve , after everything that's happened to her in the last few years, that none of you start tearing her life apart as is usually done with most people who pass through here. This is a personal request."

"Can you give us an overview of her?" Tim asked, looking at his grandfather thoughtfully "I'm not going to search her, but it's good to know the basics so that if something happens we can act."

"She lived most of her life in Paris, despite being born in London. She lived the last years under Hawkmorth's regime" he sighed "she trained with an old friend to know how to defend herself during the period she was in Paris"

"Is that why she reacted defensively to my presence?"

"Yes Master Damian. Even in a safe environment, some habits are difficult to change. She is a fashion designer and will start at Gotham University. Her adoptive parents knew Julia for many years and own a bakery in Paris. Anything else I believe is unnecessary."

"And how is she doing after all these years, after everything that's happened?" Bruce asked concerned.

"She's getting better, but it will take some time for her to recover." Alfred paused looking at everyone at the table. They were his family too, but he had to make it clear what he thought. "Bruce, you know that I consider you a son, that I raised you as if you were my blood, and that I consider all of you as my family after all the years that have passed. However, I want you to understand that Marinette is also my family, my blood. She is all that I have left of Julia and I hope you have the same consideration for her that you have for me. You will realize with time that, even though we were far away from each other, she is much more like me than you think."

"Don't worry Alfred. I believe everyone will comply with your request." Bruce spoke, which led the members of the table to immediately agree. "To the other family members who are not present, I will speak in person and I hope everyone waits for me to speak with each one before commenting anything."

Dinner continued in a leisurely fashion with quiet conversation about Alfred's relationship with the family.

"Before everyone leaves, tomorrow we will have three guests at home. I expect everyone present to be at their best behavior" Bruce spoke shortly after dinner ended.

"Great…" complained Damian, being cut off immediately by Alfred

"And who should we expect tomorrow Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, getting up to clear the table.

Bruce sigh, looking at his sons "Jagged is in town. He said he's bringing his design with him and his wife"

@sknerd101 @kathygene @waffleyunsure @nightfallsthings @taewinterbear95 @occulta-lacrimarum13

[thealtoduck]

Being the son of Superwoman and being moved to another Earth…

Batfamily x Male Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: After defeating the crime syndicate, the justice league is left with a super powered problem…

(A/n: A bit short but i’m happy with it.)

——

The Crime Syndicate had fallen, all the members had been defeated. Yet Bruce Wayne couldn’t relax he was stuck on something Superwoman had told him ”You better send someone to care for my son, after all you just took his father from him”. (Spoiler: If you haven’t seen the movie here is some context Batman make Owlman go BOOMBAYAH)

So Bruce returned to the place where Superwoman lived and found a young boy that was somewhat older than Damian. ”You look like my dad” he had told the man dressed like a bat. When he told the boy what had happened to his parents he was suprised and heartbroken to see he looked somewhat relieved. ”But what happens to me?” the young boy then asked a bit scared.

Bruce then took of the Batman cowl and suggested ”You could come with me?”. ”Really?” you asked. ”Really” he confirmed with a small smile. ”What’s your name kid?” Bruce asked. ”Y/n Wayne-Batson but i usually just go by Y/n Batson” you answered.

”Nice to meet you, Y/n, I’m Bruce”.

Later…

Adjusting from one Earth to a another wasn’t as hard as it might sound or well… the person who is your mom on your earth being your age on this earth was a strange thought but… what can you do?

When you were moved into Wayne Manor the reactions were ranged from welcoming, suspicious(Jason, Stephanie, Cassandra and Tim) and full on against it(Damian). Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Barbara were all really welcoming tho.

They warmed up to you soon though cause they realised even though you were raised by two psychos you were still an little angel.

Bruce started doing some simple tests on you to see what powers you had and what limits you had. You had the same powerset as your mother which included super-strength, super-durability, flight, etc…

So after getting a costume you took up the name ”Wonder Boy” to distance yourself slightly from your mother’s name + they already had like one or two Superboy’s so you didn’t wanna create more confusion.

Diana was quite flattered that you picked ”Wonder Boy” and started helping in training you since you had the same powers as her. She’d never tell anyone but she has quite the soft-spot for you.

Once Jason and Damian warmed up to you they became the unofficial Y/n protection squad.

Jason would always pick you up from school before Alfred could get there so he could make sure people were nice to you. But also so that no guy would dare ask you out while your scary looking brother dressed in a leather jacket and smoking a cigarette was there.

Damian would follow you around the hallways in school for the same reason.

[hope-for-the-best-98]

When You Feel Insecure (Eddie Munson X Reader)

Masterlist Spotify Playlist

Summary: Eddie helps you when you're feeling insecure about yourself.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only), fingering, piv, mirror sex, dirty talk, drabble heavily implies reader has insecurities about her appearance. (Please let me know if I have missed anything).

A/N: Work's been pretty hectic right now, so not writing as much as I want. But I am still (very slowly) making progress with the next chapter of Study Sessions, so please don't think I've abandoned it! But enjoy this little smutty drabble that has been taking up my brain the last week or so. I've discovered I am very out of practice with writing smut, so please be gentle with me...

You bought the dress months ago, a pretty off-the-shoulder red number that you fell in love with straight as you saw it in the store window. You only needed a few words of encouragement from Eddie to take the leap and buy it. 

Red’s your colour, sweetheart. And I think it would look really good on the floor of my bedroom, and your bedroom, my van too…

But now as you stand in front of your mirror, adjusting the neckline and trying to pull the bottom of it past your knee, you feel… Wrong in it. You’re thinking this would be the one, the confidence booster you have been craving for the last couple of days. You didn’t want to wear a basic pair of trousers and a blouse for Wayne’s birthday meal. You want to make an effort, look nice in something that wasn’t your work uniform or a band shirt you wear to Eddie’s gigs. You just want to feel beautiful. Something to make you feel right in your skin again. 

You hear a knock at the door and you wipe under your eyes to catch the unshed tears before they fall. “Come in.”

Eddie pushes the door open slowly, presenting you with that shit eating grin like he always does. He’s even made an effort to look presentable for the dinner. Dressed all in black, wearing his signature leather jacket that you steal at any chance you get. “Hey, baby. You nearly ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” You sigh quietly, pulling at the fabric hugging your waist. “Finishing up.”

He nods his head, wolf whistling at you as he approaches. “You look perfect, Angel. We’ve gotta meet Wayne at the restaurant in like twenty minutes, so if you’re nearly ready-”

“I know, Eddie!”

“Hey, hey…” He soothes, gripping your bare shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug him off, turning away from him as you reach back for the zipper. “I hate how I look in this stupid dress. I don’t know why I bought it.”

“You’re kidding, right? Like, you’re totally fucking with me? Is this like a boyfriend test or something?”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “Just help me with the zipper. I need to…” You trail off, looking at your clothes scattered across your bedroom floor. “Find something else to wear. ”

You turn to face the mirror as he steps behind you, sighing quietly as you feel his fingers on the back of your dress. You wait for him to unzip it the rest of the way, but instead he pulls the zip back up and pats your back.

“Eddie, we don’t have time for this-”

He shushes you, pulling your hair back so he can kiss your neck. “We’ll make time. Now, just listen to me. Really listen to me.” He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror. “Got it?”

You huff, but lean back into him anyway. “Fine.”

You see him smile into your neck before trailing his lips up to your jaw. “Good. Now look at yourself in the mirror.”

You turn your head to look at him, your brow furrowing as you chew on your bottom lip. You’re not sure why you suddenly feel so nervous, especially in front of Eddie. The person who you trust, confide in, who looks at you like you’re the only person that matters. But you sometimes struggle with being vulnerable, even with the people you can be vulnerable with. Especially on days like these, when you just wanna crawl into a hole and be forgotten about.

Eddie notices your hesitation and he kisses you gently. “Please?”

“Okay.” You whisper, turning to face the mirror and catching Eddie’s eye in the reflection.

“Not me.” He mumbles into your ear, a hand reaching up to grip your jaw gently. “You.”

You reluctantly meet your own eyes in the mirror and sigh.  “Now what?”

“I don’t like it when you think about yourself like this. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

You feel your cheeks start to burn from the simple words. “Eddie-“

His runs his thumb across your bottom lip, silencing you. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that, right? Make me the luckiest guy in the world. And you’re so fucking… Hot.”

He slides his hand down your neck slowly, and slips it into the neckline of your dress, his fingers grazing the top of your strapless lace bra. “Fuck, you wearing a treat under here for me later, huh?”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle your moan as his fingers graze against one of your pebbled nipples. “Was suppose to be a surprise.”

“Jesus Christ.” He groans into your ear, pulling his hand out of your dress and placing it back on your waist. “Matching pair of panties under there too?”

“M-maybe you should check…”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” His hands run down your waist, his knees bending slightly as he touches the inside of your thighs. He grips the bottom of your dress, bunching it up in his hands and pulling it up slowly. “Hold it up for me, sweetheart.”

You do it with no hesitation, your shaky hands holding it against your stomach as you and Eddie make eye contact in the mirror. “Fuck, black lace? All for me?”

“All for you.” You whisper, gasping quietly as his hand dips into the lace fabric of your underwear, zeroing in on your clit almost instantly.  You gasp, reaching down to grab onto his wrist. “Oh fuck.”

“God, you’re already wet. Drenching my fingers and I’ve barely even touched you yet. That’s so hot, baby, so fucking hot. I wish you knew how beautiful you are all the time. In the mornings, in your work uniform,” he moans quietly into your ear, “when you wear one of my shirts and nothing else.”

Your chest is pounding, feeling anxious and heated at the same time. You have been on edge all day, but with each swipe of Eddie’s fingers, the frustration seems to melt away, a blinding pleasure that leaves you gasping taking its place.

“I just- sometimes-“ You whimper as he presses down harder, his rough fingers rubbing your clit in a clockwise motion. “Sometimes I just don’t… Feel good in my skin. That maybe you won’t… Find me attractive on days like these.”

“Just feel what you do to me, baby.” He grabs your hand and presses into the obvious bulge in his jeans. “Drive me crazy. Like you put a damn spell on me or something. And I think if I don’t fuck you right now, I might just die.”

“But-“ You bite back a moan as he easily slides his middle finger into your cunt, his thumb rubbing against your clit. “The dinner…”

“I’ll be quick, baby. Promise. You’re soaked already. Won’t take long.”

You nod, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Bed?”

“I think we should stay right here. The dress is staying on too.” He presses a wet kiss into your cheek before reaching down to unbuckle his belt. “Hands on the mirror, and keep them there. Condom?”

You do as he says, hands resting on the wooden frame of the mirror, back arching as you keep your eyes on the mirror. “Bedside drawer. Where they always are.”

“Right.” He kisses your jaw gently. “Keep those hands on the mirror.”

You hear him rush over to the drawers, hands rummaging through to the pack of condoms you have hidden under your underwear. You know he’s making a mess of everything, images of your underwear being thrown over his shoulder in a haste. His mind seems to go blank when all of his blood rushes South. 

“Eddie, please hurry.” You beg.

“I’ve got them, baby. I’m coming.” You see him in the reflection, his broad frame taking up the space behind you. He pulls your dress up, resting it on your lower back as he tugs down your underwear. He kicks your feet apart and you hear him tear open the condom wrapper. “Ready baby?”

You nod quickly, your breath hitching as you feel his cock running through your slick folds. “Don’t tease, you asshole.”

“Just getting him wet, babe. Give me a second.” 

You exhale slowly as you feel him start to push inside, your walls welcoming the familiar feel of him. Your hold on the mirror tightens, the cheap wooden frame creaking under your grip. “Oh fuck…”

“We’ve… This has got to be a quickie, okay?” He breathes, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he moves in and out of you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling of him rubbing against your sensitive walls.

“Just fuck me, Eddie. We’ll have time later.”

He chuckles quietly, one of his hands trailing down to grab your ass. “To unwrap my present properly, huh?”

“Uh huh.” You whine, body tensing as he hits that spot inside of you. “Fuck, right there. Don’t stop.”

You look at yourself in the reflection and you realise you look a mess. Makeup beginning to smudge; skin turning red from exertion; bottom lip swollen from your teeth sinking into it to hold in your moans. But as you make eye contact with Eddie in the mirror, his pussy drunk face sends shocks of pleasure throughout you

You moan into the inside of your arm as he speeds up, the mirror rattling against the wall with each thrust. “E-Eddie…”

“You feel so good. Taking me so damn well.” He grunts, reaching forward to cover one of your hands. He entwines his fingers into yours, gripping you tightly as he speeds up. “You gotta stay quiet, baby.”

“Just feels so good.” You mumble into your arm, clenching your eyes shut as you feel yourself getting closer. All the pent-up frustration, the bitterness you have felt for yourself from the last few days seems to disappear as Eddie snaps his hips against you. He always knows what you need, how you need it, and you love him for it.

“God, I can feel you squeezing me. You close, baby?”

“Y-yeah.” You whimper, legs shaking. “Eddie, I can’t…”

He wraps an arm around your middle, holding you against his chest as he fucks up into you. “That’s it, Angel. I’ve got you.”

You cry out and he has to cover your mouth with his hand, trying to keep you held up as your pussy tightens around him, and he follows behind you with only a few more thrusts. He buries his face into your hair and you stumble forward, your forearms catching you from falling face first into the mirror. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He whispers, reluctantly pulling out of you with a groan.

“Don’t be.” You chuckle breathlessly, looking over your shoulder at him. “That was totally worth being late to dinner for.”

He smiles down at you, his hands reaching for your waist to turn you around. He rests his forehead against yours, staring down at you. “Don’t you ever think about yourself like that, okay? You’re perfect just like this.”

You bump your nose into his gently. “Thank you for taking care of me, Munson.” 

He grins, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “Anytime, baby. You still up for dinner?”

“After that?” You grin. “Definitely.”

“Good.” He steps back and takes off the condom, throwing it into your bin before tucking himself back into his underwear and buckling up his belt. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Let you get ready with no more interruptions from me.”

You chuckle quietly, hand resting against the wall as you regain your breath. “Okay hot stuff.”

“And stay in that dress.” He says sternly by the door, pointing at you. “Your ass looks killer in it.”

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

my girls

eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie shows you he can be a responsible parent.

a/n: will be a continuous series about eddie and reader's journey as new parents. every one shot is connected but doesn't need to be read in any order. 💗domesticated fluff. eddie is a sweetheart💗 my girls series masterlist

The afternoon sun was blaring down on the Munsons’ trailer, it made the mobile home look decent under the sun rays. Holstering the weekend bag on your shoulder, you stepped up the little front porch steps and knocked on the door. It took all but two seconds for the door to be thrusted open and to be greeted by a smiling Eddie. He was without his leather jacket or jean vest, opting for a more comfortable Metallica tee shirt and light blue jeans; he was barefoot and practically dragged you into the trailer, closing he door behind him. He took the bag off your shoulders and kissed you promptly on the lips, resting his free hand on your belly; you were about six months now and very much showing. He had been elated by the pregnancy, but you had your doubts. The two of you were twenty-one-, Eddie had just graduated high school last year and had been a known drug dealer around town – not one to judge, but his prospects of being able to provide were looking low.

“Thanks for coming,” he grinned and waved out a hand before him, urging you to look at the living room. Adjusting your eyes to the dimly lit room, you were shocked to see the usually messing space cleaned and tidy. You looked over to Eddie for an explanation and he shrugged. “Can’t have a kid getting into shit, I’ve been keeping it clean for a week now – Wayne loves it.”

“It looks good,” you admitted, edging towards the kitchen; he followed like a little puppy, bouncing on the tip of his toes as you touched the small kitchen counter. No random stuff piled on the counter tops or loads of dishes in the sink, that you know poor Wayne washed each night after his shift. There was no sign of half empty beer cans anywhere and when you opened the cabinet, there was food – plenty of food for more than two people. Closing the cabinet slowly, you turned to Eddie.

“You did really good, Eds.”

The praised tone of your voice had him melting and he reached a hand to your arm, tugging you carefully to him. Never one to resist his touch, obviously, you allowed him to press several kisses up your neck, chin, cheek, and then mouth. His arms wrapped around your waist, stomach pressed lightly against your own and when the baby kicked, Eddie reeled with delight.  His limber fingers dragged across the fabric of the maternity dress you bought last week; it was just a simple dark blue wrap around dress that allowed room for growth.

“Let me show you my room,” he murmured in-between kisses and you nodded, allowing him to lead by hand to the back of the trailer. He mentioned the other entrance and how he cleared it up. “That way we can get in and out without waking Wayne up in the mornings. I moved all the crap we had on the porch blocking it to the shed….”

“Practical,” you agreed, and he looked over his shoulder to smile at you before dramatically swinging open the door to his bedroom. He moved aside and bowed, asking you to step inside his humble abode. Laughing, you patted him on the head and walked into the once messy and kind of smelly room – there still was a lingering smell of cigarettes but he had the window wide open and a fan next to it.

“The smell is slowly going away, won’t be around once the kid is born….”

“Mhmm,” your eyes scanned the entire living corridors and noticed how free of things the floor was; it also looked like it had been washed and vacuumed – you didn’t even know the Munsons’ owned a vacuum. His walls were still littered with posters and other art, but that never bothered you – the room never bothered you. Frankly, you could have lived in the room with Eddie forever, but what you wanted no longer took precedence. The well being of your child was what mattered now, and it was good to see Eddie finally taking things a little more seriously – his usual aloof natural had been fun but with a child on the way, it had been nerve-wracking. Eyeing the rest of the room, you noticed how everything had a purposeful place and then you saw Corroded Coffin’s banner still hung near where the desk used to be.

In the place of the desk was a crib.

Your eyes looked to Eddie, and he shrugged bashfully, explaining that he had been saving for it. “…had it on layaway at Sears.”

The thought of Eddie near a Sears department store made you burst into laughter and he shook his head, walking you over to the wooden crib; it looked lovely under the light coming from the window. Inside, Eddie had placed several blankets and stuff animals, including the bear he had won you last summer at the Fourth of July carnival. His ringed fingers touched the teddy bear and his eyes found yours, delicate and near tears.

“I’m not selling anymore. I got a legit job with Wayne, morning shifts,” he said, fingers reaching up to wipe away the happy tears on your face. “I can still practice on weekends, and we have a few gigs lined up. The job pays decent, and Wayne said we could stay forever, really.”

Eddie chuckled and swung his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.  “He likes the thought of a little us running around this joint – makes him feel young again.”

Enthralled with the idea that Eddie did all this for you, for his child brought the greatest smile known to mankind onto your face. “We can totally do this…”

“Oh, babes,” he cooed, turning you to face him. He grabbed a hold of your face and leaned in to kiss you, soft and wanting – fingers dragging down your chin, holding it in place as he promised to take care of the two of you. “My girls are going to be living the life.”

[battymommastuff]

Can I request something soft with batmom and Jason??

Motorcycles

Jason Todd x Batmom

Prompt: Batmom and Jason take a ride on your motorcycle

It was no secret that Y/N Wayne was a complete badass. From the moment Bruce met you to the time you were married, you'd always stunned people with your behavior. You weren't into fancy galas and dresses. You didn't come from a rich family, nor did you have a clean record. You were frequently spotted in public getting a drink or on your motorcycle. The sophisticated looked at you with disgust while the common people of Gotham loved you.

No one admired you more than Jason Todd. When he first met you, you were just returning from a ride through the city. Your helmet was perched on top of your head, and your leather jacket was zipped up to your chin. He was convinced that you were cooler than Batman. O

One day you were looking for him. He had a night off from patrol and you wanted him in bed asap. He was in the garage admiring your bike. He never touched it not wanting to ruin it. You grinned leaning against the door to the garage watching him admire it. You'd never seen a child look so entranced before.

"Wanna ride it?" You asked startling him. You'd always wanted to take him for rides like you did with Dick. It was an easy way to tire out the poor boy.

"Yes, please!" Jason begged then grabbed your arm dragging you to your bike. You giggle then ruffle his hair.

"We need to prepare first. Alfred will have our heads if we don't leave with helmets, and jackets."

You grabbed your helmet and the helmet you used for your oldest son. Jason put it on letting you adjust it then zipped up his leather jacket that he begged Bruce to get for him.

After getting on, Jason let you pick him up and place him in front of you," Now hold on little bird." You instruct putting his hands on the handles then you start the bike.

Jason yells in excitement as you two drive through the ares outside of Gotham. He had a pair of goggles on his face protecting his eyes while you put down your visor. This was the most fun he'd had in forever.

You came to a stop at an overlook that looked over all of Gotham. Jason scrambled off then ran to the rails to see the city, "Mom! Look! I can see Wayne enterprises!" He exclaims then laughs happily. You smile softly watching him.

Jason took that memory with him everywhere. Even now as an adult in the same spot he sat on his bike leaning against the front watching the city.

"I knew I'd find you here." You said exiting your car. He looked over at you the nodded, "It was always your favorite spot to run away too."

You walked to him resting a hand on his head ruffling his hair like you use too. He groans swatting your hand away then lets you pull him in for a side hug.

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Why'd you give me your bike? You love it more than anything."

"Correction. I love my family more, but I gave it to you because I'm getting older. I'm tired, and she needs someone to take care of her and I knew you would be the perfect person too. I found this bike in a junkyard when I was just fifteen. It was all beat up, and scrapped for parts. Slowly I managed to fix her up until she was safe for riding. Being married to Bruce helped even more, but I never forgot how broken she was when I first found her. It reminds me of you little bird. I saw it in your eyes when I first met you. You had the biggest smile on your face though your eyes screamed broken. Now they don't you fixed yourself up, but I never forgot who you were then. The only person who could truly understand the story of this bike was you."

Jason wiped his teary eyes then pulled you in for a tight hug. He buried his head in your shoulder. You smile rubbing his back then pull away wiping the tear that fell from his eye.

"Thank you so much Mom, for everything."

[mellowswriting]

oxytocin

pairing || kas!Eddie Munson x Reader

word count || 1,883

summary || Eddie thinks he might just be able to get used to this whole vampire thing if he’s got you by his side - or rather, in his bed. 

content || smut, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, monsterfucking technically bc vampire!Eddie, blood drinking (gotta keep our man well fed), soft and sweet Eddie being viciously in love, fluff

a/n || listened to Oxytocin by Billie Eilish once and this happened. all aboard the whore train bc I can’t stop with this man. so pretty. also we don’t know Eddie’s middle name so of course I decided on Wayne :’)

Edward Wayne Munson is not a scary person, you’ve always known that. Even before the fateful day that drew you into each other’s orbit, when all you knew about him were rumors of Satanism and cults, you could see through the thin veil that was ‘Eddie the Freak’. There has always been a particular kindness in his warm brown eyes, even when he’s bubbling with his usual chaotic energy. Hidden underneath that metal mullet and leather jacket is a sweetheart that can’t even bear to kill the spiders he finds hiding in his room. Despite everything he’s been through, before and after being accused of a horrific murder, Eddie is gentle and kind. 

Even now, as he stares down at you with a ring of red around his irises and unnaturally sharp canines peeking out between his parted lips, you can’t find it in you to be scared of him. 

None of you quite know how or why it happened, even Eddie. All you know is your boyfriend tumbled through your bedroom window after three grief-stricken days of thinking he was dead and you don’t plan on letting him go ever again. Sure, it has been an adjustment, to say the least, but he’s still Eddie. He’s still your Eddie, who still tears up if he thinks about the one time he got a little overzealous with his teeth sunk into your neck and you nearly passed out from how much blood he took from you. 

The two of you have learned a lot since then. Eddie knows better than to wait until his hunger is so intense that it feels like his mind is boiling. You have learned about the strange pain-relieving abilities of his saliva, how the sharp prick of his teeth is always followed by a hazy almost-pleasure that makes you feel drunk. There’s no real danger in going out into the sunlight beyond some discomfort, which was deduced after a long day of experimenting with a very nervous Eddie. The most interesting thing Eddie has discovered, though?

Your blood tastes so fucking good after he’s worked you through a few orgasms. 

Eddie watches you with those red-tinged eyes as you shudder through the aftershocks of the second orgasm he’s given you tonight. The intensity he radiates only makes you shiver more. You can feel the want - no, the pure need radiating off of him in waves. It isn’t just hunger for your blood that lurks in his dark gaze. You whimper as he eases his fingers out of your oversensitive cunt and Eddie gives you that mischievous little smile that tells you he's nowhere near finished with you. 

“Oh, my pretty girl…” Eddie hums, rubbing your thigh soothingly. “You did so good for me…”

The praise lights you up, deepening the pleasurable haze that already glows through your entire body. Eddie presses closer, one hand braced in the pillows next to your head and the other cupping your cheek, his body hovering close over yours. You’re just so warm. His body temperature lingers just a few degrees cooler than the average human and he’s more than happy to leech some of that heat from you. His cool lips press against your own, coaxing them open with a flick of his tongue. Eddie’s kisses have always been deep and hungry as if he fears every time could be the last. 

You used to tease him for it - but not anymore. Not since it became too real of a possibility.

“You’ve got another one in you, don’tcha sweetheart?” His tone drips with an indulgence that you can't refuse, not with the promise of more thrumming with every wild beat of your heart. You nod emphatically, too breathless to even whisper the pleas that cling to your tongue. Eddie gives you that pretty smile you love. “That's my girl.”

There isn’t a hint of hesitation as Eddie hitches your thighs further around his waist. You feel his cock twitching against your inner thigh and for a split second, you feel bad for how neglected he is. It’s been almost an hour of relentless pleasure for you - an hour he spent rutting into the mattress, surely adding to the already endless stains in the fabric. More precum smears across your inner thigh as his hips grind against you, mindlessly searching for any friction against your skin. 

Eddie slides into you in one fluid thrust, not stopping until his pelvis presses flush against yours. You’re already so relaxed from all that time he spent with his tongue and fingers between your thighs that there’s no stretch, no pinch of discomfort. Just that pleasant fullness that takes your breath away. It’s almost too much, the surge of new pleasure through your sensitive body. Every nerve ending sings with overstimulation - and then he moves. 

A whimper flutters from you but it can barely be heard over Eddie’s broken groan. He fucks you with deep, slow rolls of his hips that send you reeling. All you can do is cling to him, fingers buried in his hair and thighs dragging him impossibly deeper. It’s almost too much to take. His cock presses against that sensitive spot inside of you with every thrust and your eyes roll, a full-bodied tremble racking through you. Eddie barely manages to pull his face out of your neck, away from the tempting scent of your blood, but he can’t resist watching you when you’re like this. So close to the edge, tears in your pretty eyes, your jaw slack as you let him fuck you stupid. 

“Look at you…” Eddie grits out, gripping your jaw when your head lolls back into the pillows. His fingers force your lips into a little pout that he can’t help but kiss you, sharp and quick in his haste to watch you cry for him. The sight you make sends a rush of emotion roaring in his ears - lust, love, pure adoration. Hunger. The pace of his hips stutters and forces a little yelp from your throat. “You sound so pretty, too.” 

You sigh his name, breathy and barely able to form the syllable. He swears he could listen to you say his name forever and never grow tired of the sound - so he lets that ravenous instinct take hold if only to hear it one more time. He thrusts into you harshly and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate to steady yourself. “Oh, fuck - Eddie!”

His grip on the back of your thighs tightens as he sets a rough and ragged pace, ruled by the animalistic need he has neglected for far too long. You find the strength to meet his rhythm, mindlessly circling and grinding your pelvis as that crest of pleasure builds in your belly once more. A trembling groan rumbles through his chest as your pussy flexes around him, your entire body tender from his constant fucking. That unbearable burst of pleasure threatens to consume you and leave you nothing more than his pretty, fucked out little mess. 

Your nails dig into his shoulder as a broken warning tumbles from your lips. It barely even counts as words but that doesn’t matter - because Eddie knows. He knows your body like he knows every crease in his well-loved Tolkien novels; every little detail read and re-read a million times until it’s burned into the back of his mind forever. His fingers blaze a familiar path between your bodies because Eddie is greedy for your pleasure, to be the source of such bliss. 

The press of his fingers against your clit sends your back arching. The instinct to pull away from the overstimulation wars with that overindulgent voice in the back of your head that delights at the promise of more. Eddie watches you with those feral eyes as he rubs your clit, those gentle touches from earlier long gone as he tries to rip one last orgasm out of you before he reaches his own - he is a gentleman after all. 

Your thighs tremble as that pleasure finally bursts, unfurls through your body like the bloom of flower petals in spring. It’s devastating, but not only for you. A string of curses falls from his lips at the desperate fluttering of your pussy as you cum around his cock. Every bit of you is overwhelming to his senses. The wet heat of your body drawing him in, the heady smell of your pleasure saturating the air, the promised taste of your blood on his waiting tongue. Everything is you and him, together. 

As it should be. 

Eddie fucks into you in sharp, short thrusts that jolt your entire body. You keep making those hot little whimpers and yelps that make his blood boil with pure lust. He may be the otherworldly creature in this room, the one that possesses an unnatural strength and power, but you… you are the one in control. You stare up at him with those eyes glittering with love and Eddie knows, he fucking knows you have him wrapped around your little finger. He kisses you hard, tactless as he buries himself to the hilt and cums inside of you. The weight of him collapsing on top of you makes you grunt but you’re too exhausted to really complain. 

It isn’t all that surprising when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Just a taste, sweetheart, I promise. Just one… little… taste…” Eddie mutters before his tongue swipes against your pulse. Even as fucked out and hungry as he is, it isn’t until you give him a nod of approval that you feel the sharp prick of his teeth digging into your neck. The pain is distant in the echoes of the orgasm that still thrums heavy in your veins, now amplified by whatever strange qualities his bite has on you. 

You sigh beneath him, unable to do much else but bury your fingers in his hair and tip your head back, giving him all the access he could ever dream of. Your other arm simply drapes over his shoulders. It’s comfortable. Known. His tongue rolls, coaxing a slow trickle of blood from the small wound. Eddie practically purrs as the rich taste of your blood tinges his tongue. That raw instinct flares to life, a sharp demand to take and take until you go limp beneath him, but it doesn’t take hold. It never could, not with the fierce gleam of love outshining everything else. He’s careful not to take too much - just enough to sate the hunger singing in his veins.

“So sweet,” He whispers as he carefully cleans your neck in wet little kitten licks. It used to make you squirm away from him, the strangeness of it all too much, but you’ve grown used to the warmth of his tongue against your throat. The wounds never last long, especially under his thorough care. You take such good care of him. Eddie can’t imagine not doing the same for you. He kisses just beneath your jaw. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You can only hum a positive sound, your mind and body featherlight in the aftermath. Eddie catches your lips in a coppery kiss before slipping away, stumbling off to gather a towel and water and anything else his little human could ever desire.