#batboys ruined them for mE

[geniemillies]

friend: *recommending me romantacy books*

me: :D

friend: oh and the mmc gives cassian vibes i think you'll love it

me:

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤEVERY INCH IN THAT SUITㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : He Looks Good In His Thight Suit, So Why Not Just Fuck Him?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ WARNINGS : NSFW, MINORS DNI, Daddy kink, breeding kink, rough sex, degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex, a lil bit gun play, blow job, choking, spitting, slapping, riding, power play.

☆⁠ NOTES : Damian is an adult. And yes we have an adult version of Damian who is still Robin and wear a Robin suit. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

The cave’s damp air clings to your skin as you stumble in, heels clicking against the stone floor, your breath hitching at the sight of him. Bruce stands there, the suit clinging to every muscle like it was poured over him. The cowl’s still on, those white slits glaring at you, and fuck, it’s doing things to you—your thighs clench just looking at him. He’s fresh off patrol, chest heaving, a thin sheen of sweat making the black Kevlar gleam under the dim lights. Gotham’s knight, your goddamn ruin.

“You shouldn’t be down here, sweetheart,” he growls, voice low and modulated through the mask, but you hear the edge—raw, hungry, barely restrained. He steps forward, boots thudding heavy, and you’re already wet, practically dripping down your thighs because fuck, it’s Bruce, and he’s looking at you like prey.

“Don’t care,” you breathe, bold and stupid, stepping closer ‘til you’re in his shadow. “Needed to see you, Daddy.”

That word—Daddy—hits him like a punch. His head tilts, cowl shifting slightly, and you swear you hear a sharp intake of breath under that mask. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, little girl,” he rasps, gloved hand flexing at his side, and you grin, all teeth and heat, because you want him.

“Then punish me,” you whisper, reaching out to drag your fingers down the bat emblem, feeling the hard planes of his chest. “Show me what happens when I’m bad.”

He snaps. One second you’re standing, the next he’s got you slammed against the Batcomputer console, the cold metal biting into your ass as he looms over you, massive and unyielding. “You wanna be a brat for Daddy?” he snarls, ripping your skirt up with one brutal yank, exposing your soaked panties. “Gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

You whimper, and he’s already tearing the lace off—gloved fingers rough, calloused through the fabric, shoving between your legs. “Fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, sliding two fingers into your cunt without warning, stretching you open while you arch and gasp. “This all for me? Huh? My needy little slut, soakin’ herself for me?”

“Yes—Daddy—just for you,” you moan, hips bucking into his hand, and he growls, pumping harder, curling those thick digits ‘til your vision blurs. The suit’s rubbing against your thighs, coarse and unforgiving, and it’s filthy—he’s filthy—still stinking of smoke and adrenaline, fucking you with his gloves on.

He pulls his fingers out, slick and glistening, and smears your mess across your lips before shoving them into your mouth. “Taste yourself,” he orders, and you suck, desperate, gagging around the leather while he watches, those white slits narrowing. “Good girl. Daddy’s gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk, ‘til you’re full of me.”

You whine, and he’s unbuckling the lower half of the suit—just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, dripping pre-cum like he’s been hard for hours.

He grabs your throat with one gloved hand, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy, and lines himself up, the fat head of his cock nudging your entrance. “Beg for it,” he demands, voice a gravelly snarl, and you’re too far gone to care how pathetic you sound.

“Please, Daddy, fuck me—breed me—fill me up, I need it,” you plead, voice breaking, and that’s all it takes. He thrusts in hard, splitting you open, the stretch burning as he bottoms out in one brutal stroke. You scream, nails clawing at the suit, and he doesn’t wait—starts pounding you, relentless, the console rattling with every slam.

“Fuckin’ take it,” he grunts, hips snapping, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the cave. “Gonna stuff this tight little cunt—make you mine, princess.” The glove on your throat tightens, cutting your air just enough to make your head spin, and you’re sobbing, legs shaking as he fucks you raw—Bruce's cock wrecking you, the suit chafing your inner thighs red.

He leans down, cowl brushing your cheek, and the modulator makes him sound obscene. “You want Daddy’s cum? Want me to breed you ‘til you’re dripping, ‘til you’re swollen with it?” he growls, and you nod, frantic, clenching around him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

“Yes—fuck, yes, Daddy, fill me up, please,” you gasp, and he shifts, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half under him. The angle’s insane—his cock hits so deep you feel it in your guts, and you’re screaming, cumming so hard your whole body locks up, gushing around him while he keeps going, fucking you through it ‘til you’re a trembling, overstimulated mess.

“That’s it, cum on Daddy’s cock,” he snarls, pace turning feral, and you feel him swell, twitching inside you. “Gonna pump you full—gonna make you my little breeding bitch.” He slams in one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and cums with a guttural roar—hot, thick spurts flooding your cunt, spilling out around his dick as he keeps thrusting, forcing it deeper, marking you inside.

You’re a wreck—pussy throbbing, leaking his cum down your thighs, the suit’s rough edges still digging into your skin—and he doesn’t stop. He pulls out just to flip you over, bending you across the console face-down, ass up, and shoves back in, fucking his cum into you like he’s trying to make damn sure it sticks. “Not done,” he growls, gloved hands bruising your hips. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think, ‘til all you know is my cock.”

You’re whimpering, incoherent—“Too much, Daddy, fuck”—but he doesn’t care, keeps railing you ‘til your knees buckle, ‘til you’re drooling on the keyboard, another orgasm ripping through you so hard you black out for a second. He’s relentless, a machine, the suit creaking with every thrust, and when he cums again, it’s a flood—dripping down your legs, pooling on the floor, a nasty, freaky mess that only Bruce could leave behind.

Finally, he slows, breathing ragged through the modulator, and pulls you back against his chest—the suit cold and hard, his cock still twitching inside you. “Such a good girl for Daddy,” he murmurs, softer now, gloved hand stroking your hair as you tremble, fucked-out and full. He doesn’t take the cowl off, just tilts your chin up to kiss you—lips rough against yours, tasting of sweat and sin.

“Mine,” he growls, possessive, and you feel it—his cum leaking out, the ache settling in, the way he’s claimed you. You’re his, alright—Daddy’s little breeding toy, fucked stupid in the heart of his cave.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

The Blüdhaven night’s alive with neon and grime, and you’re perched on a rooftop, waiting for him—Nightwing, the city’s golden boy turned reckless tease. You’ve been playing this game too long: flirting over comms, brushing hands during stakeouts, until he finally snapped last week and fucked you senseless in an alley. Now, he’s late, and you’re antsy—legs dangling over the edge, heartbeat ticking up—when you hear that familiar whistle, cocky and bright.

“Miss me, babe?” he calls, flipping down from a higher ledge, landing in a crouch that shows off every damn line of that skin-tight Nightwing suit. The black and blue clings to him like a second skin, outlining his broad shoulders, tight ass, and the bulge you’ve been dreaming about all day. He straightens, grinning—those white lenses glinting in the dark—and saunters over, all swagger and mischief. “Caught you waiting. That’s cute.”

“Caught you staring,” you fire back, smirking, and he laughs—bright, infectious—before he’s on you, fast as a blur. One gloved hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up, and he kisses you like he’s been dying for it—hot, messy, a little sloppy with how eager he is. His tongue’s in your mouth instantly, tasting you, teasing, and you can feel him grinning against your lips. “Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to nip your bottom lip, eyes twinkling behind the mask.

Dick’s playful, needy, and oh-so-fucking horny. He spins you around, pressing you chest-first against a rusted billboard frame, and you feel the hard planes of his suit grind against your ass. “Been thinking about this all patrol,” he groans, hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips as he rocks into you. “You in my head, driving me nuts—gonna make you pay for it, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t waste time—fingers deft and quick, peeling your pants down just enough to bare you to the night air. The suit’s rough against your skin, textured where it brushes your thighs, and you hear him fumble with the hidden zipper at his crotch, freeing that gorgeous cock—long, thick, already leaking for you. “Look at you, all ready for me,” he teases, smacking your ass lightly, playfully, before dragging the tip through your slick folds. “So fucking wet—bet you’ve been thinking about me pounding you, huh?”

“Shut up and do it,” you snap, half-laughing, half-desperate, and he chuckles—low and dirty—before sinking in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch stretch you open. “Oh, fuck, yes,” he moans, head tipping back, suit creaking as he bottoms out, balls snug against you. He doesn’t go brutal like Bruce—he’s all rhythm, hips rolling smooth and deep, fucking you with a grin you can hear. “That’s my girl—taking me so good.”

He’s a talker—won’t shut up even as he picks up the pace, slamming into you now, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with the city’s hum. “Goddamn, this pussy’s perfect—gonna dream about this later,” he pants, one hand slipping around to rub your clit with those clever fingers, the gloves slick and cool against your heat. You moan—loud, shameless—and he laughs again, delighted. “Yeah, let me hear you, babe—scream for Nightwing.”

He’s relentless but fun—grabbing your hair to pull you back just enough to kiss your neck, sucking bruises there while he fucks you harder, the suit’s edges scraping your skin in the best way. “Wanna flip you over—see that pretty face when you cum,” he says, and before you can blink, he’s spinning you, lifting you like you weigh nothing—acrobat strength on full display. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, pinning you against the billboard, and thrusts back in, grinning like a kid who stole the candy jar.

“Fuck—Dick—” you gasp, and he winks—those lenses flashing—driving deeper, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. “That’s it, say my name—gonna make you lose it,” he promises, voice husky now, less playful, more feral. His fingers circle your clit faster, and you’re done—cumming hard, clenching around him, crying out as your whole body shakes. He groans, watching you fall apart, “So fucking hot—love it when you squeeze me like that.”

He’s close—hips stuttering, grip tightening—and he pulls you flush against him, suit rubbing your tits raw as he chases it. “Where do you want me, huh? Tell me quick,” he pants, and you smirk, breathless—“On me, all over me.” That’s his cue—he pulls out, stroking himself fast, and cums with a loud, “Fuck, yes—” painting your stomach, your thighs, even catching your chin with hot, thick ropes. He’s grinning, chest heaving, swiping a finger through it and popping it in his mouth like a goddamn tease. “Tastes better with you.”

You’re a mess—panting, covered in him—and he’s still got that cheeky spark, tugging you close, kissing you soft now, all lazy and satisfied. “Round two back at my place?” he murmurs, tucking himself back into the suit, adjusting the escrima sticks on his back like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. “Got a bed with your name on it—and maybe some handcuffs.”

“Lead the way, Grayson,” you say, and he scoops you up—half-carrying, half-dragging—already plotting the next way he’ll wreck you.

— JASON TODD ⋆

The safehouse reeks of gunpowder and copper when Jason kicks the door open, his heavy boots thudding against the floorboards. He’s a fucking mess—blood streaked across his Red Hood helmet, leather jacket torn at the shoulder, crimson dripping down his gloves from a night of cracking skulls. The guns strapped to his thighs clink with every step, and he’s still riding that adrenaline high, chest heaving, muscles coiled tight. He wasn’t expecting you here—not tonight—but there you are, sprawled on his shitty mattress, fingers buried deep in your own cunt, moaning his name like a prayer.

“Fuck me,” he rasps, voice distorted through the modulator, low and guttural as he freezes in the doorway. His helmet tilts, taking in the sight—your legs spread wide, pussy glistening, eyes half-lidded with lust. You don’t even flinch, just keep fucking yourself, smirking like you knew he’d walk in like this. “Couldn’t wait, huh, you needy little slut?” he growls, kicking the door shut with a bang, already shrugging off the jacket but leaving the holsters on—guns and all.

“Jason—” you whimper, fingers slowing, and he’s on you in a flash, still bloody, still armored, grabbing your wrist and yanking your hand away. “Oh no, you don’t get to stop now,” he snarls, smearing your slick over his glove as he shoves your thighs apart wider, the cold metal of his gauntlets biting your skin. “You wanted me, you’re fuckin’ getting me.” His free hand rips at his belt, pulling his cock out—thick, hard, tip already leaking—and you barely get a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hair, forcing you onto your knees.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he orders, voice rough as gravel, and when you do—lips parting, tongue out—he doesn’t wait. He grabs one of his guns from the holster, still warm from the fight, and presses the barrel to your temple, cold steel kissing your skin. “You like this, don’t you? My dirty fuckin’ girl,” he taunts, smearing blood from his glove across your cheek as he shoves his cock past your lips, deep and brutal, hitting the back of your throat ‘til you gag.

He’s feral—nothing gentle, nothing soft—just pure, unfiltered Jason. His hips snap forward, fucking your face like it’s a goddamn mission, the wet choke of your throat filling the room as he grips your hair tighter, pulling ‘til your scalp stings. “That’s it—take it, choke on me,” he groans, modulator crackling with his ragged breaths, the helmet’s red glow casting shadows over your tear-streaked face. The gun stays steady, a fucked-up promise—he won’t pull the trigger, but the threat’s got your cunt dripping, thighs clenching as he uses you.

“Fuck, you’re a sight—drooling all over my dick,” he mutters, yanking you off with a wet pop, strings of spit hanging between your lips and his cock. He doesn’t give you time to recover—just drags you up by the hair, spinning you around, and shoves you face-first into the mattress. “Ass up, now,” he barks, smacking your thigh hard enough to leave a welt, and you scramble to obey, pussy throbbing, aching for him.

He doesn’t bother stripping—keeps the helmet on, the leather creaking, blood still tacky on his hands as he lines up, slamming into you with one vicious thrust. You scream, the stretch burning, and he laughs—dark, filthy—grabbing the gun again and pressing it to your lower back. “Move, baby—fuck yourself on me,” he growls, but he’s already pounding, hips slamming so hard the bed shakes, his cock splitting you open, hitting deep and relentless.

“Jason—fuck—too much—” you gasp, but he just pulls your hair ‘til your back arches, forcing you to take more, the gun sliding up your spine, cold and dangerous. “Too much? Nah, you can take it—you were begging for it with your fingers in that slutty little cunt,” he snarls, voice dripping with lust and menace. Blood smears on your skin where he grips you, and the helmet’s modulator makes every grunt sound inhuman, primal—fucking you like an animal fresh from the hunt.

He leans over, chest plate digging into your back, and bites your shoulder through the suit—teeth scraping, bruising. “Gonna mark you up—let everyone know who owns this pussy,” he rasps, thrusting harder, the gun now tracing your jawline as he reaches around, shoving two bloody fingers into your mouth. “Suck ‘em clean, c’mon,” he demands, and you do—tasting iron and him, moaning around them while he fucks you into the mattress.

You’re close—too close—clenching tight around him, and he feels it, growling, “Cum for me, you filthy bitch—let me feel it.” The gun presses harder, his pace turning sloppy, brutal, and when you shatter—screaming, gushing all over his cock—he doesn’t slow down, just keeps railing you, chasing his own end. “Fuck—gonna fill you up,” he grunts, yanking your head back one last time as he cums, hot and thick, spilling deep inside you ‘til it’s leaking out around him.

He pulls out, panting, helmet still on, and smacks your ass one more time for good measure, leaving a bloody handprint. “Stay there—look at that mess,” he says, voice low and smug, watching his cum drip down your thighs. He drags the gun barrel through it, smearing it over your skin, then leans close—modulator crackling—“Next time, I’m fucking you with this loaded.”

You’re wrecked, trembling, and he’s already holstering the gun, adjusting his jacket like he didn’t just destroy you. “Clean up, princess,” he tosses over his shoulder, but the way he lingers by the door says he’s not done—not by a long shot. Red Hood doesn’t play nice, and you’re his favorite fucking toy.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

The Wayne Manor study is a damn fortress—dark wood, flickering lamplight, and Damian hunched over a desk littered with maps and case files, looking like he’s about to murder someone. He’s in that stupidly hot Robin tunic—green and red clinging to his lean frame, mask off, black hair mussed from running his hands through it too many times. You’ve been pacing behind him for twenty minutes, thighs rubbing together, pussy throbbing, because he promised he’d fuck you hours ago and now he’s buried in work like some self-righteous little bitch.

“Damian,” you snap, voice dripping with heat, leaning over his shoulder so your tits brush his back. “Put the damn papers down and fuck me already.” He doesn’t even flinch—just keeps scribbling, muttering something about “Gotham’s safety” like you give a shit. “Beloved, I’m occupied,” he says, all clipped and cold, that posh accent making your blood boil hotter. Occupied? Oh, fuck that.

You grab his chair, spin it around so fast he drops his pen, and he’s glaring up at you—emerald eyes sharp, jaw tight, all that bratty defiance he’s so damn good at. “I said I’m busy,” he growls, but his hands twitch, like he’s fighting not to grab you, and you clock it—he’s hard under those tights, bulge straining like a liar’s promise. “Busy being a little bitch,” you spit back, and before he can snap, you slap him—hard—right across that pretty face. His head jerks, cheek blooming red, and his eyes widen, stunned, then darken with something feral.

“You—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish. You climb onto his lap, straddling him, yanking his head back by his hair ‘til he’s forced to look at you. “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, grinding down on that thick, trapped cock, feeling it twitch under you. “You don’t get to play martyr while I’m soaking wet and dying for it.” He groans—low, broken—and you smirk, spitting right into his open mouth. He chokes, swallowing it, and you see it: the moment he cracks, pride crumbling, lust taking over.

“Fuck, you’re disgusting,” he rasps, but his hands are on your hips now, gripping tight, and you know you’ve got him. “Yeah, and you love it,” you taunt, ripping your shirt off, letting your tits spill out, nipples hard and begging. His eyes lock on them, hungry, and you slap him again—lighter this time, playful, but it still stings. “Eyes up here, asshole,” you say, spitting again—this time on his cheek, watching it drip down as he shudders, cock jumping against you.

You don’t bother with his tunic—just shove the tights down enough to free that gorgeous dick—long, veiny, leaking precum like he’s been aching as bad as you. “Gonna ride you ‘til you cry,” you promise, lining him up, and he snarls—“Try it, harlot”—but it’s all bravado, because when you sink down, taking him in one brutal drop, he moans like a fucking virgin, head tipping back, throat bared. “Oh—fuck—” he gasps, and you laugh, nasty and loud, starting to bounce.

You ride him hard—hips slamming down, pussy clenching tight around him, wet and messy, soaking his lap. The chair creaks, threatening to collapse, and you don’t care—let it break, let the whole damn manor hear. “Look at you,” you pant, grabbing his jaw, forcing him to meet your gaze. “All that big talk, and you’re just my little fucktoy now.” He growls, but it’s weak, hips bucking up to meet you, desperate, and you spit into his mouth again—harder this time. “Swallow it,” you order, and he does, choking, eyes glassy with need.

Your pace is relentless—grinding, bouncing, thighs burning as you fuck him stupid. His hands claw at your ass, your tits, everywhere, and you slap them away, pinning his wrists above his head. “No touching,” you snarl, and he whines—actually whines—struggling but loving it, cock pulsing inside you. “Please—fuck—beloved—” he begs, voice cracking, and you grin, feral, leaning down to bite his lip ‘til it bleeds, licking it clean while you ride him faster.

“Thought you were too busy,” you mock, spitting on his chest now, rubbing it into the Robin emblem with your fingers. “Too good for this pussy—guess you’re not, huh?” He’s a mess—sweat-slick, bloody-lipped, moaning your name like a prayer—and you feel him throb, close, so you slow down, dragging it out ‘til he’s thrashing under you. “No—no, don’t stop—” he pleads, and you slap him again, sharp and loud. “You don’t tell me what to do,” you growl, picking up speed, riding him so hard the desk rattles.

“Gonna cum for me, Dami?” you purr, clenching tight, and he nods, frantic—“Yes—fuck, yes—” You feel it building, that tight, hot coil in your gut, and you spit one last time—right on his tongue—as you slam down, cumming hard, screaming his name as your pussy milks him dry. He breaks—crying out, hips jerking, spilling deep inside you, hot and thick, shuddering through it ‘til he’s whimpering, wrecked.

You don’t stop—keep riding, slow and mean, overstimulating him ‘til he’s squirming, gasping, “Too much—fuck—” but you just laugh, grinding ‘til he’s twitching, cum leaking out around his cock, staining his tights. “Should’ve fucked me sooner,” you say, climbing off, leaving him slumped, panting, a sweaty, bloody mess in that chair—work forgotten, pride gone, just your perfect, ruined boy.

“Next time,” you warn, wiping your spit-slick hand on his tunic, “don’t make me wait.” He looks up, dazed, lips swollen, and mumbles, “Never again,” voice hoarse, and you know he means it.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[myfictionaldreams]

⁀➷Ours to Keep // BatBoys (acotar) x F!Reader

Summary: Three mates. Three date nights. Three very different ways to love you—and ruin you.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, vulnerable batboys, overstimulated, subspace, rough sex, size kink, angst, fluff, worshipping, dom/sub, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, restrained, dacryphilia, possessive, pain kink

Words: 5.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

AZRIEL

Many questions were tumbling through your mind. The first being: where was he taking you?

Azriel is typically quiet, even to his mates. He could go days without uttering a word, only sharing his emotions with touches and looks. Tonight, you were unsure which side of Azriel you were going to be blessed with: the brooding, secretive mate or the worshipping, praising mate.

It tended to be intense when it was your date night with the Shadowsinger himself. Pent-up emotions were not spoken through words but through actions. The underlying theme was that he never truly felt he deserved you, but now that he has you, he’s never going to let you go, and he shows that through worshipping.

So far, he had been even more silent than usual, leaving your questions unanswered, not even a reassuring hand squeeze as he gently guided you through a narrow, rocky path that wound into the mountains surrounding Velaris. The sounds of the children playing on the streets had long been deafened, so only your steps and breaths could be heard echoing off the cave walls. Azriel, though, was as silent as his training had taught him to be; even the movement of his wings as he bent his body to the narrowing path made no noise.

His icy fingers tightened in protectiveness as his shadows slipped from his wrist and around yours, like the two of them were working in tandem, checking that you were still there.

“If you’re taking me to those god-awful worms, Azriel, I’m not going to speak to you for a week”, you muse with little to no amusement in your tone, trying to cover your anxiety with humour and failing in doing so.

Without a backwards glance, he murmurs, “Trust me”.

You trust him with your life. With your soul. So, as silent an answer as he would give you, your fingers tightened in his grasp.

After what feels like forever, you step through a gap in the rocks and stop dead.

Before you lies a hidden cavern lit by faint bioluminescent moss and the glittering reflection of the moonlight through a narrow crack from above. In the centre, a natural hot spring steams, the water clear and rippling, surrounded by smooth stone.

It was like something from a dream, the sight momentarily taking your breath away.

“Az, it’s beautiful.” Your admiration in your voice would never describe how truly stunning the view was. It was a secret, a place for you and Azriel.

Arms slide around your waist as he draws your body back against his chest. “Not as beautiful as you”, he whispers, voice low and rough against the shell of your ear.

Your lips twitch at the corners as you relax into his hold, “Smooth talking, my love”, you muse.

Shivering and not from the chill in the air, Azriel begins to guide you down to the water's edge. Once more, the two of you fell into a silence, more comfortable than the walk to the springs. With careful touches, Azriel’s scarred fingers begging to unbuckle your jacket, helping you remove your clothes with painstaking care.

You stand there, naked as the day you were born, and wait patiently for Azriel’s clothes to be removed until you’re left staring at the hard, scarred planes of his body.

When you’re both bare, he steps into the steaming water first until it is waist height, his hands held up, coaxing you forward.

A deep groan leaves your lips as you step into the water, the heat wrapping around you instantly, soothing and intoxicating. With the height difference, the water lapped around your breasts. Easing backwards, there’s a small ledge beneath the water, which gives Az the opportunity to sit and pull your body into his lap, your thighs straddling his, hands resting against his shoulders.

Chest to chest, you admire his handsome face from how his night-black hair flops across his forehead, giving him a softness compared to the edginess of the rest of him. The shadows capture your attention next, but only because they’re persistent with their touches.

For the most part, you can spot the shadows surrounding the pool, flickering ever so slightly between the dark patches of the room, like they’re keeping watch while their master unwinds.

The other shadows, though, were brushing along your thighs and hips, featherlight touches that made you squirm and keen on Azriel’s touch.

Az watches you move with a slight, knowing smirk. “You like it when they touch you, don’t you?” he asks, voice pure sin.

Losing any courage, your eyes drop submissively, an automatic response to his tone, before you look back up at him through your lashes, nodding breathlessly.

Your face is pulled towards his with a single finger tipped beneath your chin. Azriel claims your mouth with a slow, deep kiss that leaves you dizzy. Those shockingly cold hands roamed over your heated body, relieving the way you were overheating. His touches were painfully tender, as if memorising every inch of your naked body. Then there were his shadows, joining in, teasing along your breasts, your belly, lower.

When a flicker of a touch grazes between your thighs, you can’t help but gasp against his mouth, clutching painstakingly tight to his muscular shoulders.

“You’re so sensitive for me”, he growls, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck. “So sweet”.

It was always like this with Azriel. The job he provides the night court is physically and mentally draining, but it’s something he will do until his last breath, so when he has even a moment alone with you, it’s all about control. The lack of words was made up for with touches, desperate and clinging like he’s scared you’ll slip away with a blink of an eye.

With careful touches under your thighs, you’re gently lifted out of the water and onto the smooth stone at the edge of the spring. With his chest pushing against yours as he continues to kiss your lips, you’re coaxed to lie on your back with Az’s body between your thighs.

The contrast between the coolness of the rock beneath your back and the heat of his mount on your skin makes your head spin as your fingers glide over the wet skin of his back.

A wisp of pressure wraps around your wrists, lifting them high above your head and holding you down. Glancing up, the two of you admire the way the shadows pin your wrists to the stone. Another set slithers down your thighs, spreading them wide.

You gasp, helpless, heart pounding, realising that his shadows have left you completely tied. Wriggling your wrists to see how much movement you have, you realise there’s none whatsoever. It’s almost like your limbs have been set into stop with how well the darkness consumes you. It doesn’t hurt; it feels more as if time has stopped.

Azriel’s hazel eyes flick back to your face, observing the curious glances you’re giving his shadows. As much as your mating bond had claimed Azriel, his shadows had claimed you. Always.

Lowing his body, his eyes never leaving yours, you hardly even blink as he lowers, kneeling between your spread legs. The vast length of his wings flares as his face lowers to where you want him most. The hazel of his eyes is almost entirely consumed in the darkness of his pupils as he gives you a nearly feral look with hunger.

“You’re mine”, he says, voice a rasp of possession.

Azriel absolutely fucking devoured you. Worshipping you with his mouth, hands, and the occasional caress of the shadows. Your writhe against the stone, trying to move your pussy against his face, matching the lick of his tongue but the shadows have a firm hold of you.

The pleasure is relentless as he groans at the taste of you, licking, slurping, biting, his nose pressing against your clit so hard you’re a sobbing, gasping mess. He doesn’t stop - not when you cum once, not even when you come twice.

Azriel worships you over and over. You’re delirious, no longer admiring the way he moans your name against the skin of your thighs. You’re so deep within pleasure that even the sound of your screaming is drowned out by the heavy thumping of your heart rate in your ears.

There’s a point where you’re overstimulated, swollen, your body now coated in sweat and squirt puddling between your thighs, but Azriel keeps going. His fingers soon finding their home in your pulsing cunt. One finger, two, three, curling and pounding, his tongue circling and sucking on your clit.

You’re barely even aware when the shadows finally release your wrists and thighs, when Azriel scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing.

Your body trembles relentlessly against him, oversensitive and pliant, every nerve ending thrumming. You’re not about to think, or do anything but cling to him, tears of overstimulation slipping silently down your cheeks.

Azriel notices instantly. His mouth, swollen from the pleasure he’d delivered to you, rested against your ear, his voice coarse, “I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you”.

He gently carries you back into the hot spring, cradling your limp body against his chest as he wades into the soothing water. His hands stroke through your hair and down your back, occasionally holding your hand, grounding you.

“I’m so proud of you”, he whispers. “You’re everything to me. Everything”.

Floating in a daze, your every last thought started and ended with him. Needing, wanting, begging for him.

When he presses inside of you, it’s slow, so achingly slow, as if he’s trying not to overwhelm you more than you already are, even as you try and lower yourself with more urgency.

The gentle light soon disappears as his wings are wrapped around your back, cocooning the two of you. “You’re mine,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. You always have been.”

The length of his cock rocks tenderly into your cunt, dragging perfectly against your still clenching walls, drawing soft whimpers from your lips. Even with your weakened state, you can fist his hair, whimpering his name.

Falling apart one more time, he follows you over the edge, the entire length of his cock pulsing and spilling into your cunt. Azriel doesn’t let go. Not even for a second. 

The once crystal clear water begins to blur as he begins to slip out of you, being careful not to move too fast. You feel completely weightless in his arms, safe. With wings still protectively around your back, he begins to carry you out of the pool.

“You did so good for me, sweet girl. So perfect. So beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses across your damp temple. The words, the touches, the steady hum throbbing through your body leave you feeling completely and utterly sated, happy, wanted, and loved.

The feeling of Azriel helping you into his leathers was a slight discomfort, wishing to remain naked with how sensitive your skin was feeling, but as you draw in a deep breath, you’re consumed by the smell of him.

Then you’re weightless once more, the world blurring beneath your body as Azriel cradles you to his naked chest as he flies the two of you through the gap in the ceiling. The calm wind on your damp skin was soothing as your eyes closed, leaning into his protective hold.

When Azriel touches down lightly on the balcony at the house of wind, standing naked and proud with his sated mate in his arms, Rhysand greets him. The violet eyes twinkle at the sight, and a towel appears in his arms as he wraps it around Az’s waist.

Cassian lounges nearby in front of the fire, holding a book and a crystal glass half filled with dark liquor. The usual cocky grin wiped clean from his face. Instead, there’s only fierce protectiveness, always struggling to see you in this state.

“She good?” Cassian rumbles, his legs twitching like he’s fighting, storming over to your side.

Azriel notes, tightening his hold, causing your head to roll on his shoulder. “She’s perfect”.

Azriel’s gaze turns towards his high lord, knowing that out of both of them, he’s the one who would and has started a fight, having thought Azriel had pushed you too far, even though it was just what you wanted. 

Rhysand’s gaze lingers on your face, noting the peaceful look naturally set in your sleeping expression. “Sleep well, little love. You deserve the stars themselves”.

And with that, Azriel continues to walk inside, carrying you to the shared bedroom to finally join you in the peaceful realm of sleep.

RHYSAND

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, waits for you at the entrance to the Sidra Riverwalk, dressed like sin incarnate. He wears a black tailored jacket and a deep navy shirt, which is open enough at the base of his throat for the dark swirls of his tattoos to peek out beneath his collarbone. He looks beautiful, effortlessly so, but it is the wicked glint in his violet eyes that has anticipation bubbling in your stomach.

No matter the years that passed, the time spent with either of your mates still felt new and fresh, and the "I can’t believe you’re mine" feeling never seemed to fade.

“Good evening, little love,” he purrs, his fingers curling around yours, lifting your hand to brush a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You are looking ravishing as always. How are you feeling? Not too sore from Azriel's affection, I hope.”

The bond hums between you, heat deepening across your neck and cheeks as you playfully roll your eyes.

Yes. You were still aching, even three days later, but Caulron, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Rhysand’s smirk deepens, as if he senses your very thoughts through the bond, but rather than taunting, he offers the crook of his elbow.

“Come. Let’s see if I can make you fall in love with me all over again”.

A laugh bursts from your lips as your arm hooks through his, holding onto him tightly. 

The night is a whirlwind. Hand in hand along the riverside, tasting pastries from thankful vendors, slipping into the amphitheatre to watch the opera's end, followed by after-hours snooping around your favourite bookstores - one of the positives of being mated to the high lord.

Everywhere the two of you go, people greet Rhysand, whether it's a nod from across the street, a shout of love from a window or a trembling handshake quickly swooped into hugs. Rhysand is praised and adored by the people of Velaris. Their High Lord. Their protector and friend.

The weight of the entire Court balanced on his well-groomed shoulders.

He hides it well, behind that easy smile, behind the playful winks and steady waves.

Rhysand might be a daemati, but you could read his thoughts as easily as he could yours. You always see it. The way his shoulders tense, the smile that falters when the public turns their backs, the flicker of his heartbeat in his wrist that your fingers press against when holding his hands.

Rhys was a good actor. Hiding his exhaustion, the nightmares, the screams that echo behind the steel wall in his mind. And so, later, you take charge when he flies you both to a private rooftop garden high above the city, draped in silks and lanterns and the scent of night-blooming flowers.

Admiring the beautiful spot, you take his hand and pull him towards the cushioned divan, gently pushing on his shoulders until he slumps onto it. Straddling his lap, your fingers caress his soft cheeks.

“My beautiful, strong High Lord”, you muse, lips kissing the crease between his brows. “You carry so much. Let me carry you for a while.”

The breath he releases stutters, a shiver brushing through him. His hands rest heavily against your hips, thumb stroking carefully over your clothing as he takes a moment to think of his response, the first sign that he’s starting to show his vulnerabilities.

“You already do, darling. More than you could ever know. This night, it’s not about me, I want to look after you, my Queen, my mate, my love”. You’re staring so intensely into his eyes that you feel mesmerised. Your mate was strong, but he was always so quick to be selfless, and you wanted him to feel appreciated, more than this, to believe what these people have been saying is true, that he would believe what they say.

“I am yours, Rhysand, and you are mine. MINE. I want you to believe you deserve my love.” His mouth opens, ready to be defensive and retort to what you say, so your fingers quickly cover his lips. “No, I don’t want to hear it. No more, Rhys. Just let me love you, let me take away some of your pain. Please, let go for me, just for tonight.”

That was it. That was what caused his eyes to drop, along with his shoulders, as he gave in, leaning heavily against your chest.

Taking your time, your fingers comb through his hand, massaging his scalp until he’s leaning into the touch. Tipping his head back, you gaze down at his handsome face again. Pressing your lips to him in a slow, loving kiss, you breathe him in. Distracting him with your mouth, your fingers make their way to undo the buttons of his crisp shirt.

With his shirt as open as his jacket, your lips move away from his to trail sweetly over the tattoos etched into his golden-brown skin. The hands still holding your hips tremble as he restrains himself.

Giving over control was still something that he was adjusting to, and you could feel his tension beginning to rise again with the need to be in charge. Pulling back, you cupped his face, “Rhys, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Inching off his thighs, you kneel, fingers undoing the belt and button of his trousers. Rhys’ hands drop to the cushions at his side, gripping them as he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Working him open, your fingers ease beneath his clothing to grip his firm length. Your eyes are wide as you take in every gasp, the flex of his abdominal muscles, and just how desperate he was for his mate. It made you feel powerful and unbelievable horny as wetness pooled in your underwear, but your pleasure could wait.

Easing him from the confines of his trousers with slow worshipful strokes, your lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Licking the drips of precum, already gathering at his tip, you savour his unique taste for a moment before taking him deeper.

Rhysand releases broken sounds from his lips, every shuddered breath from his lungs. He’s still holding back though, knowing what he sounds like when he truly lets go, you firm your grasp of the base of his cock and move up and down with more motivation.

A throb pulses violently through your shared bond, causing your whimper to seem from your throat, constricting further around his cock.

“Fuck, darling”, Rhys gasps, his head tipping back and his hips lowering as he relaxed further into the cushion, his thighs spreading further. “You’re going to ruin me”.

You pull off him with a lewd pop, your fist continuing to move up and down his length as you look up at him with glassy, bright eyes. “Good, you deserve to be ruined by my mouth, High Lord”.

He shifts forward, his hands moving beneath your arms, but you’re already moving, having the same thoughts as him as you move to straddle his lap. “Help a girl out, won’t you?” you say, glancing at your fully clothed body.

With a simple snap of his fingers, both yours and his clothes disappear, and now it’s your turn to be shivering in his hold from how hot his skin felt against yours.

Reaching between your bodies, with fierce eye contact, you guided him inside with a slow, aching slide that makes you both groan in tandem. The stretch is intense. Rhys is thick, even more so after Azriel’s date night, which left you hypersensitive. It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

Rocking your hips in slow up and down movements, his arms clutch around your his,  helping your movements.

Those gentle lips of his move down the slope of your neck as you both make love beneath the stars. “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve everything good, everything soft, all the love, Rhys.” Your lips work their way from his cheekbone to his mouth, kissing with such fierce desperation that your nails dig into his muscle, trying to pull him impossibly closer. 

The pleasure builds achingly slowly, not frantic or punishing, but overwhelming in how intimate it is. Every gasp and moan is like a personal vow to one another. And when you cum, it’s with only his name from your lips. And Rhys, Cauldron, he cums intensely with a strangled groan, pressing his forehead to your chest, directly over your heart.

Hours stretch by, filled with gentle strokes, caresses, and licks. Rhys, ever needing some form of control had you on your back with his fingers pushing his cum back inside your cunt and playing until you’re finding release once more. Then he’s inside of you, your leg over his shoulder, his thrusts steady and deep.

You don’t move for a long while, because you’re sure the sun will rise soon over the mountains and yet the two of you remain curled into each other. Rhys cradles the back of your head against his chest in one hand, and the other draws idle circles down the length of your spine.

It’s when his fingers are still that you know something is wrong, as your face snaps up to his. But he’s smirking, staring off into space before seemingly drawing out of his mind.

“Cassian demands that you be returned home. He says it’s past his bedtime, and he can’t settle until you’re home.” You can’t help but tip your head back and let out a laugh, imagining the tone of Cassian’s voice through Rhys’ head.

“Sometimes I worry that Cassian thinks he’s a giant dog,” you muse while standing with Rhys's help.

With pyjamas magically produced by Rhys, you’re gathered into his arms, wings flaring wide against the star-speckled sky. The flight is silent, tender, with your fingers twirling through the hair at the nape of his neck.

When you both land lightly on the River House balcony, you find Cassian and Azriel already waiting, lounging not so casually on the garden chairs.

“Well, don’t you two look thoroughly and well-fucked”, Cassian muses with a whistle. Azriel smirks, his shadows racing across the path to tickle lazily across the tips of your feet.

Rhys grins lazily, his swagged easily slipping back into place now that he is with others. Pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, he carefully lowers you to the floor. Cassian’s arms are immediately around your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulders with a startled cry. 

“She’s tired. Take care of her for me”, Rhys voices with a stark tenderness.

Cassian falters in his steps towards the house, glancing back at his High Lord. “Why don’t you come and take care of her yourself, Rhysie?”

And just like the four of you are wandering into the house, the family and love are humming happily in the shared bond.

CASSIAN

The evening starts chaotically, and there’s one reason for that: Cassian.

Sometimes you wonder how he can look as graceful as he does when he’s fighting, like it’s a warrior dance with the steady steps and careful swing of his arms. Well, that was not how your evening starts with him barging into the bedroom, the door cracking against the wall as he begins there with a cocky grin on his handsome face.

He has a single rose in one hand, and in the other is a costly bottle of Illyrian wine that he has undoubtedly stolen from Rhysand's private collection. The thing about Cassian is that he doesn’t need a hidden hot spring or a fancy rooftop. No, that man could woe you with a flash of his goofy smile and a flex of his bicep, and the Illyrian knew it.

“Trust me, Sweetheart”, he’s still grinning like an idiot as his arms sweep your body off the floor and the two of you fly into the skies over Velaris. You end up on a cliffside overlooking the sea, the salty spray misting your skin.

With his wings tucked in closely, Cassian sets up a small campfire. The fire instantly warms your hands as you hold them out until he ungracefully pulls your body into his lap.

Drinking the wine straight from the bottle, sharing it between laughs and teasing kisses, you savour every breath and touch from the man wrapped around you.

The stories coming out of him from his youth growing up with Rhys and Az have you howling with laughter until you're clutching your stomach. It doesn’t go unnoticed the way he watches your every move or the feeling of his arms tensing like you’re going to roll out of his arms and off the side of the cliff.

The two of you eventually fall into a comfortable silence as the stars begin to glitter in the darkening sky, yet the fire continues to blaze. Maybe it was the bottle of wine shared between the two of you, but there’s something off, and it’s only when Cass’ hands drift idly over your thighs restlessly that you notice it's him.

Tilting your face back to look up, you can see him contemplating something.

“I’m not like them, “Cassian eventually speaks, his voice rough. He coughs slightly to clear his throat and shifts on the spot. Rhys is all charm and smooth edges. Az has his shadows, his deadly skill. Even when they’re not trying, they’re so.” He shakes his head roughly, trying to find the right words. “Refined. Perfect. “

Letting out a harsh breath. “And then there’s me. Brute force. Loud, messy. The bastard born from nothing.” Your heart aches at the rawness in his voice as you turn your body more towards him in his lap, causing his saddened gaze to shift to you. “I look at you, and all I can think is, how the fuck did I ever get this lucky? Someone like you, kind, beautiful, good, how did you end up with someone like me?”

The pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away one of the tears that now drips down. “I wish I was softer for you,” he continues, his voice thick and hoarse. I wish I was better, gentler, the way you deserve.”

Shaking your head to clear the sad fog hovering over your thoughts, you’re quick to turn completely, straddling his lap and hands linking behind the back of his head. “You are everything I want, Cassian. I don’t want soft, or perfect, or gentle. I want everything you have, I want all of you!”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Sweetheart”, he growls lowly, looking conflicted between pissed off and wanting to tear your clothes off.

You just smile - soft and challenging. “I do. Now show me, Cassian. Be mine. Now!”

Your back hits the dirt before you can clutch onto his shoulders. Cass’s hand cups the back of your head, softening your fall.

The kiss. The fucking kiss is deadly. Like a starving man. Rough, claiming, devastating. There’s nothing careful about it, just the heat of his tongue, the bite of sharp teeth, the low rumble of his growls against your skin as he pins you to the ground with his hips.

There’s no steady removing of clothes or magic to aid him. There’s only the tear of the material as it’s ripped from your body until you’re naked beneath him, your back rubbing into the dirt.

The warrior is so much bigger than you, from his broad shoulders, powerful arms and thick thighs, pushing your thighs further apart to make room for him. Much like Azriel and Rhys, when you’re in his arms like this, the main feeling that comes to mind is safe.

Cassian isn’t even fully undressed yet, only just shoving his leathers low enough to free himself, heavy and throbbing and so thick it makes your mouth water. He grits his teeth, like he’s fighting a war inside himself, his big hands trembling as they grip your thighs.

“Are you sure about this, Sweetheart?” he rasps, voice laced with desperation.

“Don’t be gentle with me. I want all of you, Cassian. Give me everything.”

He doesn’t need telling against as you feel the heavy pressure of his cock at your entrance as he begins to push inside.

The stretch is immediate. Sharp and burning. Your head falls back with a strangled moan, exposing the length of your throat as he drives deeper, stretching your aching cunt to its very limit.

It’s almost too much - almost - but you want it, need it, and your body relaxes enough for him to inch his way inside. Cassian's shaking above you, forehead pressing against yours.

“You’re always so fucking tight”

“And you’re always so fucking big”, you groan as he finally settles as deep as he can go. It’s still not his entire length but there’s only so much cock you can fit before you’ve reached your limit.

Cassian grunts a laugh as he licks the length of your throat before beginning to rock his hips. Brutal and deep thrusts that have your whole world tilting and shuddering. Every thrust as you cry out in pleasure with a throb of beautiful pain, always the perfect mix.

The overwhelming urge to cry suddenly prickled at your eyes, not only from the intensity but also from how full you felt and how much you loved this beautiful soul of an Illyrian.

Cassian notices the tears; he always notices everything about you. His hips stop, and you do everything to try to roll your hips, needing him to keep going. His hands grip your hips tightly to stop your movements as he checks in with you. 

“Too much?” he grits out.

“Never”, you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist, fingers reaching behind him to stroke down the sensitive membrane of his wing, causing a full-body shiver and grunt. “Please, Cassian, don’t stop. I need it, I need you”.

Whatever control he had been holding onto shatters. He fucks you. Rough and filthy. It’s like a flip has switched in his mind, whether it be the bond pulsing with love and desire, or he truly was listening to your words, because he became almost feral with his possessiveness.

“You’re mine, this beautiful fucking body, it’s all mine. Do you understand?”

You can’t even answer with a cry because you’re suddenly orgasmnig, hard, your pussy squeezing his cock in pulses. You can feel it from the tip of your head to the ends of your toes, entirely and utterly destroying you.

Cassian, unable to deal with his cock being strangled by your cunt, follows with a broken roar, his face nuzzling into your neck as his cums as deep as your body will allow him to go. 

He doesn’t let you go, just remains inside of you as your body collapses to the floor, trying to catch your breath. 

The gentleness he displays afterwards always proves that he can do things softly. It always draws a knowing smirk to your lips, but you never say anything because you love the burning throb between your legs, even if it is uncomfortable to walk.

Giving you the shirt off his back, you’re enveloped in his warmth and smell once more before he lifts your body into his arms. “I love you”, he says with a slight hint of uncertainty.

Grinning at him, your fingers curl a strand of his shoulder-length hair behind his rounded ear. “I love you so much and for what it’s worth, you’re also MINE.”

You fall into a peaceful sleep by the time Cassian flies you home, completely and utterly relaxed and thoroughly fucked enough that you were sure you were going to sleep for a week. One minute you’re high above Velaris with Cassian continuing his reministant stories, and the next you’re on a soft mattress, face pressed against Rhysand’s naked chest, Cassian’s heavy body thrown over your legs like he’s an oversize dog keeping his owners feet warm, and your hand tucked safely beneath Az’s head from where he lay next to Cass.

A kiss to your temple informs you that Rhys is still awake as you snuggle closer.

Everything about this felt right. You, with your mates, always.

[manicmanuscription]

P.1. Saturday Nights

PolySJM Week: Day Four

Prompt: Alternate Universe

Pairings: Mafia!BatBoys / Reader

Summary: You're a clueless waitress working in a mob restaurant, unknowingly catching the eye of its ruthless leaders. Surely a simple cut won't send them into a panic.

Heavily, Heavily inspired by @ jacfrostisreal clueless waitress series on TikTok!!

Tags: glood, gore, stitches, gullible reader

Word Count: 2059

A/N: Y'allllll I tried rewriting it like six times but ended up here so don't be holding it against me.....

PolySJM Week 2025 Masterlist | Acotar Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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I pressed the rag to my hand with a shaky inhale, watching as the white fabric turned pink from the cut, unable to stop the tears from spilling over. 

This was the worst shift ever. 

First I had to come in early to cover the host stand all because Esmeraie was having car troubles and I had a customer scream at me because I wouldn’t seat him and his wife as if I could magically make a table available. Then my very first table of the night ended up being absolutely horrendous. It was so damn busy tonight I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I didn’t even realize I had cut myself on the plate I’d dropped until Chef pointed it out. 

I’ve had no time to even think, Sevenda’s was a high end restaurant known for excellent service and even better food. I usually thrived in high-pressure situations but tonight was another bad night in an awful week and I was reaching my breaking point. 

I let out another choked sob, my vision blurring with tears, I was hiding away in the thankfully empty break room. My coworkers had tried to help with the cut but I’d refused, snatching the rag out of Thane’s hand and running out of the kitchen before I started crying in front of them. 

God it hurt like a fucking bitch. My hands were starting to shake and I tried to focus on finding a first aid kit but my mind was buzzing with the weight of my emotions, overstimulation setting in and making my breathing hitch my nerves felt like they were on fire.

I let out a painful whimper, digging the rag further into my skin as if it would erase the prickling pain that was seeping down to my bones.

I stayed like that for a few more minutes until the rag turned fully red, trying and failing to breathe only to cry harder. It didn’t help that the sight of my own blood made me lightheaded. 

I didn’t even notice the door had opened until someone was standing right in front of me. Rhysand's citrus and sea scent invaded my senses and I tilted my head up to look at him. 

Mortification instantly washed over me upon seeing my boss, and I reached my free hand to wipe away the tears. Hopefully I didn’t look too much like a mess.  “H-Hi.” 

There was a dark look in his gaze as he took me in. “What’s happened?” He demanded, his silky voice making shivers run up my spine. “I’m Fi-Fine.” I stammered out, trying to stabilize my voice but speaking only made more tears burst forward, when I calmed down I was going to strangle myself for appearing like this in front of the freaking owner. 

My words seemed to have no effect on him and his large hands gently grabbed my injured one. I instinctively hissed in pain when he removed the rag from my palm. “I’m not gonna hurt you darling, I just need to see what’s going on so I can help you. Is that alright?” 

He brushed his thumb soothingly against the uninjured skin of my wrist and I nodded. Biting on the inside of my cheeks to hopefully keep the tears at bay. It was really sweet that he took such good care of his employee’s but guilt slowly crept in, he had been meeting with some of his friends in the back offices.

Before I even had a chance to apologize for ruining someone’s meal and hiding from my tables the door opened again and two familiar men walked in. Rhysand’s brother’s helped him manage the restaurant occasionally. Apparently thing’s must really be crazy because they’ve spent more time here.

“Marissa told us what happened.” Cassian said practically shoving his brother aside to take a look at my hand. I winced at his rough touch and Rhysand shot him a glare. “Be careful.” He snapped under his breath. 

Azriel was standing a few paces behind them, that intense stare settled on me and I wasn’t sure the male was even breathing. I could never get a good read on him. “I’m sorry for breaking the-the plate, I’m honestly fine, just need a bandage and I’m good to go.” I hiccuped, wiping my eyes again and taking a shuddering inhale. Doing my best to calm down and look presentable. These were my bosses afterall. 

“We don’t care about that.” Rhysand said, softening his tone as he shot me a charming smile that had my insides melting. Cassian’s brows furrowed as he inspected my wound. “She needs a stitch or two.” 

As soon as those words left his mouth it’s like someone doused my body in ice water. I snatched my hand from his. “No-No. It’s not that bad.” I spoke fearfully. Cassian stepped in front of me, blocking my view so it was just him and placed a new rag back on my hand, adding gentle pressure. The touch made my toes curl and I immediately banished those thoughts. They just didn’t want me to accidentally pass out, it was already bad enough I broke company property -again- was bleeding on the floor and hadn’t checked in my tables in fifteen minutes. “Really, it’s ok. I have tables. I promise I’ll get back to work- No hospital needed.” 

“You will do no such thing.” Rhysand said from my side, his eyes still on my trembling hands. His tone leaves no room for argument. “Don’t worry sweetheart.” Cassian said softly, brushing a piece of my hair behind my ear. 

His large muscled chest blocked my view so I didn’t see that Azriel had left the room but he returned with a small briefcase, setting it on the counter beside me and revealed what looks to be a small stash of high-grade medical supplies. I whimpered and stepped away, accidentally pressing myself to Rhysand’s side. 

“Y-You are…You’re gonna stitch me up. H-Here?” I squealed out, nausea rolling in my gut. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” 

“We have numbing tools, it’ll only hurt for a moment I promise.  Will you let us take care of you? We can take you to the hospital if you’d prefer. But either way you are not going to be walking around here with an open wound” Azriel finally spoke, that deep voice instantly soothing my nerves. 

“Not to be rude…But do you know what you’re doing?” I eyed the small army of supplies suspiciously.

“Yes.” The three brothers shared a look I didn’t fully understand but Cassian looked like I just kicked his puppy and Azriel’s confidence helped me calm down. 

“I didn’t know owning a restaurant was such a dangerous profession.” I quipped trying to distract myself. 

Rhysand chuckled underneath his breath, making me realize how truly close I was standing to him. I tried to take a step back to at least keep some of my dignity intact but he pulled me even closer, heart spread across my cheeks. “You’d be surprised.” 

Well.. That’s true I’d seen Roman with countless bandages, for someone who worked in the kitchen of a high-class restaurant you’d think he’d be better with a knife, he’d only told me it was ‘Part of his charm.’ 

A hospital scared me even worse, plus I would feel guilty. I nodded my agreement and Cassian lifted my wrist removing the rag. Both him and Azriel started cleaning it and I let out another whimper, black dots dancing in my vision at the sight of my own blood coming out of my body. 

Rhysand titled my chin to look at him, those dark blue eyes almost looking violet in this lighting. “Talk to me about something.” 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, anything.” 

I paused, suddenly all my thoughts emptying when prompted. I opened my mouth to respond but suddenly a sharp burning sensation spread throughout my entire hand and I squealed in pain, pressing my head into Rhysand’s shoulder. He shushed me comfortingly, running a hand up and down my spine in soothing motions until all the pain just…disappeared. 

I pulled away to try and look at what they were doing to my hand. But he captured my attention with conversation once again. We talked about me losing my keys, my annoying neighbor playing loud music throughout all hours of the night, then eventually the rude customers at the host stand and the annoying tables I’d had. It was an easy conversation, making me forget all about my cut. Then I realized I was speaking badly about my job to the person who signed off on my paychecks. 

God this blood loss was making me lose my damn-minded. The way they were taking care of me softened something inside of me. It made my walls slip and I made stupid mistakes like thinking they liked me or telling my bosses bad things about my job. They were respectful to my coworkers and I tried to force myself to remember I was just an employee.

It did however warm my heart how much they cared about their employee’s well being and I tried to tamper down the jealousy that they might’ve taken care of my coworkers like this as well. 

We were extremely well taken care of here. Plus the tips were good which was surprising seeing as everyone knew rich people were monsters -Marisa told me it would be disrespectful to Rhys if they didn’t-. So they obviously had a good reputation for a reason.

So no, I was not going to risk a good job just because Rhys’ voice did things to my insides. That Cassian was making me laugh even as they sutured my hand and Azriel’s touch sent sparks down my spine. I tried to remind myself they were just good employers. Tried to not let it all get to my head 

This really was just not my night. 

Even if I would replay this moment in my head before I go to sleep every night in utter embarrassment, these were my freaking bosses and they had seen me crying and in pain. Not my best moment. 

“Sorry…This is your restaurant. I like my job. Don’t fire me.” I spoke, playing it off with an awkward laugh but Rhysand just gave me another of those dazzling smiles. “Trust me, we’re not going to fire you.” 

“All done.” Azriel spoke gruffly and I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until I was staring at my newly bandaged palm. “Wow…Thank you guys! I truly am sorry about all of this. I promise to be more careful. It won’t happen again. I’ll get back to my tables.” 

“You’re not going back to work.” They all spoke at the same time, those dark eyes settling on me until I squirmed slightly. They really were too attractive for their own good. Maybe I really did need to find a new job because god the things I wanted to do to these men was anything but professional. 

“It’s a busy Saturday night, I’ve already been avoiding my tables for a long time. Marisa is going to kill me.” 

“Wasn’t negotiable Darling.” Rhysand said in that demanding tone again. 

“Rhysand, Sir-”

“We’ve talked about this. It’s Rhys.” 

“Alright…..Rhys.” I appeased him even if it felt wrong, the nickname tasted unfamiliar on my tongue and way too intimate. “I promise I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.” 

I had bills to pay after all, and as if he was reading my mind- “You’ll be reimbursed for the injury.” 

I bit my lip anxiously, of course I was excited to go home and rest, maybe catch up on some trashy tv show but I would feel horrible leaving my coworkers all alone on a busy night like this. “Are you sure? If you need me I’m happy to stay, plus the injury was my fault-”

“We’ll see you next in a few days, get some good rest.” It was Azriel who spoke this time.

I nodded, giving them a soft smile. “Ok..well thank you so much guys I really appreciate it.” 

After grabbing my things and going over how to take care of my wound with Azriel I left, thanking them again for their help. They really were great bosses. 

── °ꨄ︎｡ /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ｡ꨄ︎° ──

ೃ⁀➷ next part

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

Batboys x alien!reader

⸻

Scenario: “You’re an Alien, But They’re Falling for You Anyway”

You crash-landed on Earth during a low-stakes invasion and never left. You’re trying to understand human customs and hide your powers.

⸻

Jason Todd x Alien!Reader

• He’s suspicious at first. “What do you mean you don’t have blood?”

• Accidentally falls for you after you save a kitten using telekinesis and then ask if it’s “a young Earth predator.”

• Loves how unbothered you are by danger. “That guy had a grenade.” “Yes. I ate it.”

• You don’t understand flirting, so he keeps trying increasingly obvious moves until you finally ask, “Are you trying to initiate mating rituals?”

• Sweet Moment: You ask what “love” means to humans, and he just… freezes. “That’s a loaded question, space princess.”

⸻

Dick Grayson x Alien!Reader

• Thinks it’s awesome you’re an alien. “Can you fly? Do you glow in the dark? Can you talk to trees?”

• Teaches you how to dance and says things like, “Just follow my lead — Earth style.”

• You mimic him for fun, but accidentally do a perfect impression of him mid-mission. He loses it.

• Constantly curious about your world. “Do you have art? Do you have pizza? Do you have me there?”

• Sweet Moment: One day, you shape-shift into his form to understand his “human perspective” — and he sees it not as mockery, but trust. “You’re trying to understand me the way I want to understand you.”

⸻

Tim Drake x Alien!Reader

• Realized you weren’t human after you accidentally turned invisible in the middle of a stakeout. You just said, “Oops.”

• Becomes obsessed (lovingly) with figuring out how your biology works. He makes you do science with him in the lab like it’s a date.

• You speak a language that sounds like hummingbird static, and he learns to understand the tone shifts.

• Extremely flustered when you tell him humans are “visually inefficient” and that he is “especially pleasing in shape.”

• Sweet Moment: He makes you a communicator that automatically translates your real thoughts into English — because he wants to know the real you, not just the version you think humans want.

⸻

Bruce Wayne x Alien!Reader

• 100% stoic mode activated. Doesn’t flinch when you say you’re from another galaxy. Just says, “You bleed green. Got it.”

• Makes you go through twelve training tests before trusting you. You pass them all in minutes.

• You confuse idioms constantly. “Killing two birds with one scone?” He just stares. “Close enough.”

• Deep talks about humanity that end with him awkwardly patting your shoulder. You patted back once and accidentally dislocated his arm.

• Sweet Moment: You save Damian and nearly die doing it. When you wake up, he’s at your side. “I’ve seen a thousand kinds of strength… yours is the rare kind.”

⸻

Damian Wayne x Alien!Reader

• At first: ”Tt. Extraterrestrial filth.”

• Then: You stab a guy with your tail to save him — and suddenly you are “adequate.”

• You don’t understand sarcasm. He says something mean and you take it literally. The guilt ruins him for three days.

• You ask him to teach you “Earth courtship.” He writes a 12-page manual and pretends it was Alfred’s idea.

• Sweet Moment: You show him a flower from your home planet that only blooms when someone is truly trusted. You grow one in your palm just for him.

⸻

[milkingtonthethird]

BATBOYS’ reaction to you asking to paint their nails

WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader, but you wear nail polish

NOTE: DUKE IS HERE. EVERYONE SAY HI DUKE

Bruce Wayne:

- You’re doing your own nails when he walks in.

- Clearly you’re bored, or something, because he can easily pay to get them done professionally.

- He approaches you, gently lifting your hand to inspect.

- “Pretty,” he murmurs, followed by a kiss to your knuckle.

- You grin. “Can I do yours?”

- He considers, even though there’s already a denial on the tip of his tongue. But, it doesn’t come out, because you look really excited at the thought.

- He agrees. And it’s lame.

- A clear top coat. That’s all he’ll let you do.

- Bruce Wayne can’t be seen with sparkles on his hands, even if he doesn’t care what the media thinks.

- He believes it’s too feminine for him.

- They’d probably be chipped immediately given how handsy his nighttime life is, anyway.

- Still, it’s something—you’ll take what you can get.

- He actually comes to you every few days so he’s able to keep it on.

- He does try on black at some point. It looks odd on his large, calloused hands. That’s just him, though.

- The top coat is too unnoticeable for anyone to comment, but his kids are smart, observant.

- “Why are your nails shiny?”

- “Because it makes them happy.”

Dick Grayson:

- He really likes watching you do your nails and is very satisfied when you do a color he recommends.

- Said color most of the time is blue.

- You’re waiting for the polish to dry when you ask, “You want me to do yours?”

- Grayson is open-minded, but he’s also utterly in love with you, so obviously he agrees.

- You’d both have black on your thumbs and pinkies, with that iconic vivid blue on the rest.

- Unfortunately, colliding his fist into jaws and his training does get in the way of keeping them nice.

- Which means he gets spoiled with your attention even more as you fix them. Yay!

- He’s lowkey cocky when he takes down criminals with it on.

- “LOL I just kicked your ass with nail polish my partner put on” ahh mf.

- He’s incredibly defensive if anyone teases him.

- They’re basically insulting you, too.

- They eventually stop because he’s dead serious.

Jason Todd:

- “You look better with it,” he would say upon the offer.

- But he’s equally bored. He’ll agree.

- Black. Pure black. Black hole black.

- He’d make an edgy comment about how it’s his “soul” or whatever.

- He actually kind of likes it. It fits his aesthetic.

- Beats people a little harder if they happen to chip it.

- He’ll let you add a small, red matching heart on a finger.

- Preferably middle. It’s his favorite one.

- He would make snide comments when he’s fighting.

- “They did my nails so pretty, don’t you think?” (Morseo his “fingerless gloves” era.)

- Not that they’d notice. His knuckles are being too personal with their face.

- He’d be like Dick. Why is simple nail polish just so fuckin’ funny?

Tim Drake:

- He won’t necessarily be interested in polish, but rather small designs.

- Like a little flower, or a heart.

- Super simplistic stuff that has him smile when he looks at it.

- You did, as cheesy as it is, a Red Robin one time.

- May or may not have taken forever.

- He’s genuinely sad if they get ruined. You worked hard on them.

- He’d probably apologize because clearly it’s his fault—heavy sarcasm, by the way.

- You remind him that it gives you an opportunity to do more.

- He probably would ignore whomever made comments that weren’t compliments until they apologize.

- He hasn’t talked to Jason in a while.

Damian Wayne:

- “Don’t you have your own nails?”

- You’ll offer to bathe Titus for the rest of the year, and suddenly he’s sitting on your floor while you put a tacky hot pink on him.

- He lets you do whatever, because he doesn’t keep it long. He’s just not into it.

- But if he isn’t doing anything, he won’t take it off until he has to.

- Him texting Jon about how stupid he is with cunty ass nails.

- No one finds out. It’s his little secret.

- And then Bruce forgets to knock one time during a session.

- “Father,” he greets flatly, not looking up.

- You’ve never seen the Batman so…confused.

Duke Thomas:

- He’d be in the same boat as Tim—simple designs.

- Ones that make something with both of your nails together. Like a heart.

- He let you do acrylics one time for shits and giggles.

- “How do people…do things?”

- He’s been trying to open a can of soda for the past ten minutes.

- He keeps the designs absolutely pristine, somehow.

- He’d avoid doing certain things, but he also has crazy luck.

- He’ll bring you new ideas.

- He wears it with pride in public.

- If anyone brings it up in a mocking manner, he’d say, “I think you’re mad because you’re single and I’m not.”

- The time Jason did it, he’d sulk, because Duke’s right. He is mad.

doing their makeup

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys with reader who has a silly collection of stickers and puts them over their faces, their suits or their weapons (most of them with silly encouraging phrases to cheer them up lol)

Dick

He bought you a set of stickers once and ever since it’s been his ultimate downfall but in the most humorous way possible.

Dick has a sense of humour, he didn’t mind a couple of stickers here and there, even going so far as to keep the cute cartoon mushroom stickers that you’ve left on his escrema sticks as your personal touch on his belongings.

He even once woke up to a face full of them and when he asked your reasoning as to why, you only shrugged your shoulders and said ‘I thought it’d be funny to see how many stickers I can put on your face without waking you up.’

Dick takes the whole thing in stride and in good faith and loves the fact that you went out of your way to cheer him up through your cute but inspirational stickers. It was almost as though you knew that he needed a little pick me up that day and did so tenfold by coating his hands in stickers that reminded him of your deep care for him and his mental health.

So nowadays Dick doesn’t mind waking up just to see his face covered in stickers and instead smiles and goes about his daily routine as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Jason removed his red helmet from his hand and could only stare at the stickers that littered across the sides and back either a blank stare as Roy practically pissed himself with laughter.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how did I not see this?’ Jason muttered under his breath, scratching at sticker of a cartoon Robin holding a stick in its beak.

‘Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of in a little self expression Jason,’ Roy snickered, ‘but I didn’t peg you as the type to collect stickers and cute ones at that.’ He then points to a particular sticker on his helmet of a cat hanging from a branch followed by the saying; just hang in there.

‘piss off.’ Jason told him. He knew something was a miss but didn’t know what it was and now that he knew, everything was starting to make a bit more sense. For starters you didn’t kiss his helmet like you usually did before he left of patrol, almost as though you didn’t want to ruin something on his helmet that he didn’t see, at least not at that point in time.

He should’ve known because you’ve pulled this stint with his guns before in the past but what you didn’t know was that he kept a few that were now a little worn and faded. So while he appear a little peeved that you have took it upon yourself to decorate his helmet, he was a sentimental guy deep down who loved anything and everything you’ve given him and treasures it with his entire heart.

Jason’s a secret sap when it comes to you and knows that he’ll come to laugh at all this at a later date as he recalls all of it to you when he comes home, already envisioning your reaction when he’d inevitably calls you out on it, knowing that he could never stay mad at you for very long. He physically couldn’t and refuses to when all you were trying to do was lift his spirits.

You were too sweet for him but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Damian

Wants you to take them off at first, how was he meant to be taken seriously if he was covered head to toe in stickers, ridiculous.

He thinks them childish unfortunately

However when you do stop putting your stickers across every one of his belongings for a brief stint, he begins to realise the true intended purpose behind them, and would begin to leave subtle hints that he wanted you to go back to coating everything he owned in stickers in his own way of apologising.

He’s stubborn but he cares for you and what you meant to him and if planting stickers on the sheath of his sword on the premise to uplift his spirits, then who was he to stop you from doing so. He wasn’t use to someone going out of their way to try and cheer him up and was more use to isolating himself from everyone in his room and just draw out his innermost feelings.

So you covering his face, suit and or weapons with stickers with cute and uplifting words was something he needed time to get use to, but once he does he tries to keep the stickers that had long served their purpose within the pages of his sketch pad as a keepsake of your thoughtfulness towards him.

This portion of his sketch pad is kept under a lot of secrecy on his part but you find it eventually because of course you do.

Damian wasn’t use to someone caring about him as much as you did and in a more unique way than littering the hilt of his sword in stickers made to make his day just that a little better. Damian, much like Jason, keeps a sticker or two on his weapons but in places where it would be harder for others to spot and would run his thumb over it whenever he felt that he needed your presence.

Tim doesn’t mind you putting stickers on his stuff, he’s pretty much unbothered by it and would just accept the fact that this was your way of saying that you’re thinking of him and his well-being. Tim knew you well enough to understand what you were trying to say through your stickers from the stickers you used consistently.

However due to his egregious sleep schedule lead to many instances where he would wake up to his face covered entirely in stickers, and at first he thought it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things but soon realised that his face was indeed covered in stickers, and would silently stare at you through the mirror as you tried hard not to laugh.

He threatens to plaster your face with stickers next time, he does follow up on his promise but that’s a story for another time.

To Tim it was almost as if you had just made up an entirely new way of communication through stickers, he’s even got them categorised based on their subliminal messages and what you were trying to tell him through them.

He appreciates the stickers and would even find himself smiling at them on the odd occasion and run his fingers over them gingerly as to not accidentally peel one of them off. He loved your unique way of cheering him up and would get a little sad when he sees that someone them were starting to fade or become worn, only to feel a warmth spread throughout his chest when he saw new stickers next to the places of the old ones.

Each and every sticker had it’s sentimental significance to him and if Tim were to ever find out that you didn’t have anymore stickers to spare, he would buy you more sets and act like he didn’t have any part in this despite the parcel having his name on it.

[heliosundercover]

Batboys and

how they talk about you

Bonus fic as a thank you for allowing my jason fic to do well 💋

Dick Grayson-

, who talks about you like a goddess walking the earth, loves you more than words. The type to talk about you so much that people doubt your real

 

“My girlfriend is so sweet, guys. Today we went to that one library I like. Guys, have I told you even her favorite book is adorable?”

It doesn’t help that he tends to get caught up in certain details, completely ignoring other ones. No one knew your name until a week into dating.

 

Jason: “If you asked me before, I would’ve never believed him; weve all gone a little insane, but now that Ive seen proof, I'm happy for him. He gets to be well-dick, and she gets to smile and nod, but I swear she enjoys it. They’re weird together.”

 

Tim: “We love Dick. A lot, but we were looking at a wonderful facility that has an in-patient gym in the beginning. But the way he looks at her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually did miracles.” 

 

Damian: “At least I believed him at the start. He was smitten and absolutely whipped. I thought it was just like Dick. I don’t know why I, of all people, was the only one that caught it.

 

Bruce: Yeah, I knew she was real. Why would I ruin everyone’s fun? I mean, Dick is a bit. Aloof sometimes… I'm not exactly surprised; he’s not exactly amazing socially sometimes, but with her, he’s extra awkward, and I watched him flirt with men and women. But look, as long as he’s happy, we’re happy for him.”

 

Dick is a completely drunken idiot, with so much training thrown out the window. 

(Can you tell I'm not a fan of a playboy dick😞 im sorry i love a good love stuck man)

 

Jason Todd-

, who is extremely protective of his peace, sometimes acts as if you’re fragile. He was the type to invite you to a family game night where he called a family meeting an hour beforehand, forcing everyone to be on their best behavior. Needless to say, it was awkward, but one uno round later, he realized you fit in just fine. 

 

“I knew my girl would win. She's a gangster.”

boast when you absolutely dominate everyone playing in the game. You never quite beat the cheating allegations.

 

Dick: "I don’t know how he did it, but he found someone who brings out a side of him I haven’t seen in years. No one is that good at uno; naturally, at least, I think she’s a meta. I'm not saying that non-metas aren’t good at uno.”

 

Tim: "You know how in movies the girl animals just have lashes, and how the boy is always darker and the girl will be like a lighter color? It's like she was made for him. I'm glad he found his anamorphic girl, Wolf. But, can I be honest? I think Alfred was telling her our cards.”

 

Damian: "I'm glad Jaybird is happy. He’s definitely earned it. Even if she cheats at UNO, they’re perfect for each other. Hell, the cheating is what makes them perfect for each other.”

 

Bruce: "I'm glad to see Jason happy. The sparkling in his eyes, the boyish smile, is the same joy I saw after he hit me with a car iron and ran off, giggling. I like her.”

 

 

Bruce Wayne-

is proud to show you off publicly. He’s not one to spoil someone, but sometimes he can’t help but pick up trinkets for you. Sometimes you’d wake up to keychains, jewelry, or even clothes somewhere in your shared room. 

 

He tried so hard to be there for you and protect you from his line of work. Some nights, he wouldn’t come to bed at all to avoid waking you. Some nights, if you worried too much, he would send Dick out in the Batman costume so he could be by your side. 

 

"Shh, baby, its ok... Tonight, I'm staying with you, okay? I love you; do you know that? And I know sometimes the risk scares you, but I’ll always be here for you.”

 

Dick: "It's nice knowing Bruce isn’t constantly brooding about it. Well, I knew that fact already, but this is different. I only see a light in his eyes when he’s doing stuff he absolutely loves. Like when he talks to his parents tombs and we pretend we don’t see him.”

 

Jason: "i think that man would come back from the dead more dramatically than I did for this woman. And I waged like 3 wars.”

 

Tim: “Sometimes I see them sitting in the library together in silence. All they do is enjoy each other’s presence. Its adorable”

 

Damian: “Dads earned it. And when I say he’s earned it, I mean he’s earned it!”

 

Bruce isn’t the easiest to be with, but he always makes up for it.

[littlest-w01f]

Sensitive

Batboys x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand shows you he and his closest friends aren't put off by blood

CW: Period sex, very descriptive, blood, horny young adult batboys, wingplay, shadowplay, some consensual mind control, Smut 18+ MDNI (Brought to you by horny periods, my uterus has taken control of me)

A/n: posting both together cause I'll be busy later and don't want to forget. Special mention to @shadowsingers-mate who asked to be tagged :)

The sun had set as you lay in Rhysand, your mate's cot, in the tent he shared with his friends, he would've been training all day while you were working with your mother, he had asked you to come to his tent after you were done, your stomach had been cramping in a familiar way all day, eyes going wide, Illyrian wings curling around yourself as you tense, you had managed to hide your periods for a while, well, almost two years you would cover yourself with a different scent than of your periods so no one caught on, and sometimes Rhysand would glamour you too.

You shot up, your stomach hurting from the cramps, Oh no, you thought as you moved to see blood spots in Rhysand's cot, you stood up, eyes wide in fear.

Panic flooded through you as you stared at the blood spots on Rhysand's cot, your heart racing. You knew you had to clean this up quickly before anyone noticed. But as you stood there frozen, you couldn't help but think about how you would explain this to Rhysand and the others.

You tried to look for something to clean the crimson spots with and find a washcloth, but you ended up spreading it further. As you frantically scrubbed at the stains, trying to erase evidence of your predicament, your mind raced with worry. Thinking of how you could possibly explain this to Rhysand without them thinking less of you.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. Rhysand's piercing violet eyes locking onto yours. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked, concern etched on his handsome face, his body covered in sweat from training.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "I… I started bleeding... Ruined your bed..." You stammered, gesturing to the cot behind you.

Rhysand's expression softened, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's just a little blood, alright? It's nothing serious."

His reassuring presence did nothing to calm your frantic heart. Rhysand's comforting embrace felt foreign against your trembling body, a stark reminder of your unspoken shame. Your mind scrambled to justify why you were feeling such dread over what seemed like a normal occurrence to everyone else.

"Let me take care of this," Rhysand murmured, guiding you back towards the cot and pushing you gently down His piercing gaze locked onto yours again, filled with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

"You know you're always safe with me, right? I'm not one of the males who will force your wings clipped." He murmured softly, his voice low and soothing. "No matter what happens."

"Yeah, I know... I just... Paniced." You nodded, "I know now clean you keep your things and I just... Bled all over your damn bed."

Rhysand chuckled, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Well, it's not the first time my things has seen some unexpected messes, and it won't be the last, I live with Cassian and Azriel remember." He teased, his fingers trailing along your spine in a soothing pattern.

His touch sent shivers down your body, despite the awkward situation. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins from his gaze.

Rhysand leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck. "But since we're already here, and I've got you all to myself… Why don't we make the most of it?" He suggested, his voice dripping with seduction.

Just as Rhysand pushed your skirt up, exposing your cotton lingerie to him, sliding them off and throwing them somewhere behind him, the sound of wings echoed outside the tent. Cassian and Azriel landed in, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement at the sight before them.

Cassian's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his gaze lingering on your exposed thighs and the crimson spots on your garments. "Well, well, looks like someone's having a bloody good time," he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Azriel, on the other hand, looked a bit more flustered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. However, his eyes never left your body, filled with hunger, his shadows turning and twisting as the sight. And he did manage an eye roll at Cassian's comment.

With a yelp you shut your thighs, not that it was embarrassing to have them see you and your mate in compromising positions, since you had made love while they were in the room acting as if you weren't fucking in the tent, and you'd seen them in the same positions with the random females they brought back, making you all pretty nonchalant about nudity.

Rhysand, sensing your unease, gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, darlings, we're all grown here. There's no need to be shy, besides, blood doesn't make any of us squmish," he purred, spreading your legs again, his hands roaming your exposed thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.

Cassian, still smirking, stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "In fact, we could all use a good fuck after a long day of training and work."

A cough sounded from Azriel but the scent of his arousal made it quite clear he liked the idea

You felt Rhysand press into your mind shields, Are you sure? I could always tell them to fuck off, his voice rang in your head.

You nod, heart racing wildly, "I want that... I'd like that."

With a nod, Rhysand glamoured the tent to keep the sounds in, his hands travelled upwards, tracing the curves of your hips and then along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "As you wish," he whispered huskily, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Cassian and Azriel watched intently, their own arousal growing more evident by the second. Cassian closed the distance between you and him, his clothes gone, pressing his chest against your back, you whine as it makes contact with your wings, his hands finding their way to cup your breasts, ripping your dress off your body.

Meanwhile, Azriel approached from the side, his fingers ghosting across your exposed skin, trailing down until he reached your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

Azriel's finger slipped inside your slick heat, the sensation of his digit coated in your blood mixing with your arousal sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He pumped his finger slowly, curling it to find and stroke that sensitive spot within you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "That's it, let us take care of you." Rhysand snapped his fingers and he and Azriel's clothes disappeared. His hands found their way to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your cunt as did the sight of their hard cocks curving into their stomach.

Cassian's mouth latched onto your neck, biting and sucking, marking you as his. His free hand slid down to join Azriel's, both of them pumping their fingers in and out of you in tandem, driving you closer to the edge.

The sensation of being surrounded by their leathery wings only heightened your arousal, their unique scents mingling together in the air around you. The combined pressure of their bodies against you, coupled with the rhythm of their fingers working in and out of you, drove you to the brink of insanity.

Rhysand's teeth grazed against your collarbone, sending an electric jolt down your spine. "You're so fucking wet for them, so messy, aren't you?" he growled, his fingers rolling your hardened nipples between them.

Azriel added another finger, stretching you deliciously, his strokes becoming more insistent. Cassian nipped at your earlobe, whispering, "Come on baby, let go."

Your entire body tensed, a cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm hit you hard, your walls clenching around Azriel and Cassian's fingers.

As your climax ripped through you, waves of intense pleasure crashing over you, you cried out, your voice echoing around the tent. Your inner walls spasmed around Azriel and Cassian's fingers, coating their digits in your thick, crimson release.

Rhysand's teasing bites on your wings only intensified the sensations, causing you to convulse under their touches. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as your orgasm subsided.

Cassian and Azriel slowly withdrew their fingers, watching as your cunt gushed one final time, coating their hands in your essence.

The air within the small confines of the tent grew thick with lustful energy, the scent of arousal and blood filling your nostrils. Rhysand smiled, pleased with the fucked out look on your face. "Let's not waste another moment, huh?" he murmured, his hands travelling lower, grazing the edges of your soaked cunt.

"We'll take the front," Cassian said, his voice rough with desire as he bit your shoulder.

"I want her mouth," Azriel added, stepping closer, his shadowy tendrils reaching out to caress your skin, the shadows feeling you up.

With a wicked grin, Rhysand positioned himself between your spread thighs, his cock throbbing against your dripping entrance. "I think it's only fair, my love, with how hard they made you cum," he purred, pushing the tip of his cock against you, teasing you mercilessly.

Cassian moved to your side, positioning his cock at your cunt beside Rhysand's, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Hold her still, Rhys," he smirked, pressing against your hole.

Azriel's shadows wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as they bend you backwards, laying you on your side, resting your head on his thigh, so close to his cock it had you salivating.

"Hold her, how?" Rhysand chuckled, looking right into your eyes, Do you want? He asked in your head, his daemati abilities around your mind. You relaxed with a yes, letting him take control of your mind and body, forcing you still, leaving your control enough so you could moan.

With a thought, Rhysand tightened his grip on your mind, controlling your muscles to stay perfectly still. He grinned, loving the power he held over you, before guiding his cock to your entrance once again. "Like this?"

"Well, I was thinking more leather ristraints, but this works," Cassian leaned into your neck, kissing and biting your neck.

The head of Cassian's cock pressed against you, spreading your folds apart, before sinking into your warmth. A groan escaped his lips as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

At the same time, Azriel aligned his cock with your lips, his tip pressing against your mouth. "Ready for me too, princess?" Azriel taunted, knowing you couldn't move on your own accord, as Cassian gave your ass cheek a firm slap making you gasp softly.

With a nod, Rhysand made you open your mouth, tongue poking out slightly for Azriel to push his cock in, as Rhysand began thrusting into your slick cunt, each movement controlled and calculated. His hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper within you, his balls slapping against your swollen clit with every powerful thrust.

Cassian's cockhead breached your hole beside Rhysand's cock, stretching you deliciously wide with both your cocks. He paused for a moment, savouring the sensation before beginning to push in. Inch by slow inch, he filled you, until finally he was buried to the hilt within your depths.

The sensation of having two cocks inside you at once was overwhelming, your body stretched beyond what felt natural, yet the pleasure was indescribable. Rhysand continued his relentless pace, groaning, his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt, while Cassian matched his movements, driving his own cock into your cunt. When one pulled out till the head the other pushed in completely

Azriel watched, fascinated, as you took his cock into your mouth, the sight of your lips stretched around his girth enough to make him throb with need. "Fuck… so beautiful," he breathed out, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper.

As if on cue, Rhysand and Cassian increased their pace, their bodies moving in sync with each other. The sounds of wet slaps echoed throughout the tent,

The cool touch of Azriel's shadows sent shocks of pleasure straight to your nipples. They rolled and pinched your breasts, drawing moans from your throat, which vibrated around Azriel's shaft. The shadows also found your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bud, driving you closer to the edge.

Cassian's tongue danced across the delicate membranes of your wings, sending shivers down your spine. Rhysand and Cassian's cocks, coated in your juices and blood, slid in and out of your cunt with ease, the friction building towards an explosive climax.

Azriel's shadows continued their torment, tweaking your nipples and rubbing your clit in tight circles. The combination of sensations was too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the brink of orgasm once more.

As Azriel pushed his cock further into your throat, you gagged, your eyes watering. But the sensation only spurred him on, his hips bucking forward to plunge even deeper into your mouth.

Rhysand and Cassian didn't hold back either, their thrusts becoming erratic and uncontrolled as they chased their own release. Their cocks pounded relentlessly against your inner walls, each stroke hitting spots that made stars burst in your vision.

The pressure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap. Your body tensed, your cunt clenching around the two cocks impaling you, and then you came, screaming and choking around Azriel's cock as waves of pure bliss washed over you, slightly snapping out of Rhysand's control before he held you again.

With a roar that reverberated through the tent, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hot seed spurting into your womb. At the same time, soon after Cassian grunted, his cock twitching as he released his load, coating your insides with his cum.

As Rhysand and Cassian's orgasms triggered your sudden third, you clenched around them, milking every last drop from their spent cocks. Then, just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Azriel's cock pulsed in your throat, his cum flooding your mouth.

With their releases spent, Rhysand and Cassian slowly pulled out of your dripping cunt, leaving trails of their combined fluids running down your thighs. They both panted heavily, their eyes locked onto you with a mix of satisfaction and lust.

Meanwhile, Azriel gently pulled his cock from your mouth, smirking down at you with pride. "Damn, princess… You really know how to handle us."

As the afterglow settled over you, Rhysand wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. "I think we've broken our poor little darling," He teased, nuzzling into your neck.

Rhysand slipped out of your mind, and you sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Rhys?" You gasp softly.

"Yeah, love?" He whispered with a smile as Cassian and Azriel left you alone for a moment, Cassian discarding her bloody dress, Azriel getting a new one.

You look up at him, your eyes still glazed over from the hold he had taken of your mind, "I really liked that."

"You enjoyed being our plaything?" Rhysand chuckled, his voice low and husky. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I'm glad to hear that, my sweet." He kissed you deeply, before winnowing a glass of water for you to sip from.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into your eyes, a glint of mischief twinkling in his own. "But don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."

You nod, tired, "Sure…"

Rhysand smiled, with a wave of his hand cleaning you and the bloody mess around you, spelling you to not bleed everywhere further, "Get some sleep dear, I'll be here when you wake up."

With a content sigh, you curled up against Rhysand, feeling utterly sated and exhausted. Your eyes grew heavy, and before long, you were fast asleep, your dreams filled with erotic images of the night's events.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch}

[fancyfeathers]

Fun House

Yandere!Ringmaster/Serial Killer Dick Grayson x Vigilante/Former Robin!Reader

Based on my Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU

Yandere!Ringmaster Dick Grayson

Yandere!Crime Lord Jason Todd (Coming Soon)

Yandere!Court of Owls Member Tim Drake (Coming Soon)

Yandere!League of Assassins Heir Damian Al Ghul (Coming Soon)

T//W- Nothing besides classic yandere content

“Dad, I’ll be fine, I’m just meeting a few friends.” You responded to your adoptive father as you rode in the backseat of the car that your butler drove, taking you to the address of the small park your friend texted you for a small get-together for your birthday. “I’ll be back before three, how about that?”

“Midnight, I don’t want you out by yourself right now, I am working on-“

“Let me guess, a dangerous case?” You heard a hum from your father on the other end of the line, you sighed, resting your head against your free hand, looking out over the streets of the outskirts of Gotham. “Dad, I get that you worry about me, but I was the first of your little birds and just because I am out of costume doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself, besides I have Alfred on speed dial.”

“That she does, Master Bruce.” Alfred chimed in from where he sat in the driver’s seat of the car. “And I trust the young lady will be able to handle herself, she is no longer a child and she will have her friends with her.”

“Friends who were criminals.”

“Former criminals, and it’s not like you can judge me with your relationship with Miss Kyle.” You could practically feel his glare that you would receive from him if you were talking to him in person and not over the phone. “Look fine, I’ll be back at midnight and if I’m not I was probably kidnapped.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It is…” You glanced out the window of the car, seeing your friends, leaning up against their cars, waiting for you, all of them dressed up for your night out. “Hey Dad, I gotta go, love you, I’ll call you if something happens, don’t worry.” You pressed the red end call button before your adoptive father could respond, you leaned over the front seat, giving Alfred a quick side hug before you reached over to open your door. “See you, Alfred.”

“Have a good evening, Miss.” You noticed he had a certain tone in his voice, he was slightly worried. You glanced back at him through the open door after you stepped out of the car. “Do be careful, no more than two drinks if any at all.”

“Mkay, but I doubt I’ll drink, I want to go out after I get back… you know what I mean.”

“I do, but be careful, yes?”

“I will be.” You smiled back at Alfred before glancing back at your friends who were all waiting for you and then back at Alfred. “I’ll see you back at the manor.”

“I will have some tea ready for you when you return, Miss.”

“Thank you.” You finally closed the back car door, stepping away from the black car. It was around sunset, and you were walking across the grassy expanse to where your friends were parked, it was a makeshift parking lot, the kind for traveling attractions, and in this case it was a circus and carnival, a little outing for you and your friends. You were dressed up in a little light blue sundress, white boots with white fishnets to match, finally a headband and bag to match your dress, fitting for a warm summer night, but that bag did not just have money or your lipgloss, but also your suit, as in your suit for vigilantism. You were once your adoptive father’s sidekick, the first Robin at the side of the Batman, but now you have long passed on that mantle, and now you use the name of Dove during your work. Your father would not be happy if he found out you brought along your suit, as much as he was worried about you, he also wanted you to have fun and not ruin your night by getting overly worried and going on patrol.

“Girl, you are late again.” One of your friends spoke up, Valentine, he stood up from where he leaned against his car. Valentine was the son of some wealthy couple who owned a five star restaurant in Gotham, he had a bit of a rich kid phase awhile back which caused him to steal a few pieces of rather expensive jewelry and soon enough he got caught, but he had long moved past that when he became friends with you after he met you as Dove. “Please tell me you weren’t running around in that suit of yours.”

“Na, she wouldn’t ditch us.” Another one of your friends, Alice, chimed in, standing up from where she sat in the grass. She was another rich kid who did some stupid things when she was younger and one time it went too far and you had to save her from really hurting herself and someone else. “Cmon, I’m starving…”

“Babes, carnival food? Really.” The last of your friends, nicknamed Angel, was already standing as she spoke, adjusting her makeup in the side car mirror. Now she was always sweet, it was her parents who were not so nice, they got exposed last summer for being responsible for the destruction of one of their apartment buildings for the insurance money, but it killed all of their former tenants. Now after the money settled in court, she was the owner of a small fortune. “I only want the cotton candy, trust me anything else is not worth it.”

“Maybe we can just go have some fun?” You finally spoke up, adjusting the miniature backpack you brought along. “We should take some photos, besides it would be a good post if I need an alibi.”

“Once a vigilante, always a vigilante.” Alice laughed, linking her arm with your own, leading you as she skipped along with your other two friends following close behind as you made your way into the carnival.

______________________

“Angel, you realize carnival games are just a scam, right?” You laughed as you watched Angel threw another baseball at a milk jug, just missing it. She turned around to look at you, tossing the last ball to you, which you caught easily with your reflexes.

“Then you do it, if you are so confident.” The blonde girl steps aside, gesturing for you to step up to the plate. You gave her a side eye as you rolled the ball over in your hands, looking over the balls in their single line. You swung your arm, throwing a curveball and knocking over the bottle at the end, it caused a domino effect, knocking over the bottles rapidly until they were all down. You glanced over at Angel, who was wide-eyed, and you just smiled at her and she rolled her eyes. “Show off.”

“Now, there is no need to be a sour sport.” A voice chimed in from right behind you and you never had been so caught off guard in so long, it was strange and you did not like it, especially since you were always supposed to be on your guard. You turned your head around, behind you stood a man, most likely one of the performers at the big top, judging by the dark blue coat he wore with those gold detailing and the costume top hat he held in his left hand. He smiled at you in particular and just something about it gave you a chill up your spine. “Nice throw.”

“Thank you, I played softball in high school.” You had to remind yourself to put on that ditzy persona you had around strangers, the daughter of the billionaire, philanthropist, former playboy turned father, Bruce Wayne. That cutesy ballerina persona that you made for yourself on your social media pages, how the gossip magazines portrayed you, and how every citizen in Gotham saw you as. “I’m guessing you work here?”

“More or less… I run the place, I’m also the ringmaster at the big top.” You faked a gasp as he chuckled at your reaction, and you felt a little flustered as he took your hand, and raised it to his lips to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “Richard Grayson, but most people call me Dick, and if I had to guess you are the Wayne daughter I heard who was coming.”

“I…I didn’t post anywhere to say I was going to come.” At first you almost let your natural suspicion peak through but you masked it with a bashful giggle as if you were playing a game and lost or got caught.

“Let’s just say I know my guests very well.” He glanced over to the runner of the game stall and gave him a nod. Your body stiffened up as Dick placed his hands on your shoulder, turning you around to face the game again just as the man behind the counter handed you a ginormous stuffed bear, it was probably three halves your size, you could barely wrap your arms around its neck as your grabbed you and you would have stumbled back if it was not for Dick supporting your shoulder, or at least you acted like you did, got to stick to appearences. “The perfect gift, for the perfect girl.”

“Well aren't you sweet-”

“Guys! Guys, problem!” you heard the familiar voice of Alice call out to you and Angel, you both looked over to where you heard her, seeing her running your direction with a clear worried expression on her face. She caught up to you two and just as she did you felt the ringmaster’s hands slip away from your shoulders and when you looked back at where he stood, he was gone, like he vanished into thin air. You looked back to Alice, who was huffing to catch her breath. “Something’s wrong… I-I… Val and I got separated a-and I couldn’t f-find him and-”

“Alice, breath.” You finally dropped the ditzy persona, placing a hand on her shoulder while your other arm was wrapped around the oversized stuffed bear’s neck. “Calm down and tell me what’s-”

“Valentine’s missing, damnit!” Alice cried out, her voice trembling and on the verge of tears. Your eyes narrowed, glancing around ad seeing people were looking at you all and you looked back at a very shaken up Alice.

“Let’s get you back to the car, you should go home once you calm down.” You spoke to her, leading the way back out to the grass parking lot as Angel wrapped her jacket around Alice. “Angel and I can find Val and we’ll drive back with him, kay?”

“O-okay.”

______________________

You and Angel walked back onto the carnival grounds, you left your stuffed bear along with Alice in her car, so she would have something to hold on to and hug while she was in her panicked state, and tried to calm down before driving home. Everything now felt a bit more unsettling as your detective instincts kicked in, now a part of you was even grinning at the fact that you brought along your suit.

“Hey, I think Val mentioned something about meeting up at the big top in case any of us got lost.” Angel brought up, glancing at you as your eyes scanned over the carnival as if it was one of your crime scenes. “I’m no detective, but maybe he just got lost and is waiting there for us and no offence to Alice but she is kinda an… airhead.”

“Maybe you’re right, I’m probably overthinking all of this.” You sighed and shook your head, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that was building up inside your gut. “It couldn’t hurt to check it out.”

…but that guess was wrong, Valentine was not waiting outside the big top tent.

You sighed as you glanced over the scene, hardly making anything out between the people in the crowd who were walking into the tent to see the circus show. Well, after a second glance, you did notice one thing, on the dirt ground that led into the big top that led into where people could sit up in bleachers, you saw Valentine’s heart-shaped sunglasses on the ground and it was hard to make out in the carnival’s lights but you swear you saw something on them. You grabbed Angel by the wrist and pulled her into the tent, quickly bending down as you walked to scoop up the sunglasses. When you glanced back, you realized you would not be able to push your way through the crowd of people behind you two.

“I guess we’re watching the circus.” You sighed and led Angel to the closest seat you two could get in the front row that was near the tent’s exit. You two sat down and Angel glanced over your shoulder as you looked over Valentine’s sunglasses, your finger trailed over what you spotted on the frames of the glasses, it was a liquid and you smeared it over your finger to bring it up to your nose to smell and a nauseous feeling came over you as you realized what you were smelling. “That… that’s blood.”

“Oh god…”

______________________

You could hardly pay attention to the acts unfolding around you, you knew for certain that something was most definitely rotten in this place. Both you and Angel did not feel good walking in that tent, and you certainly did not like the glances and smiles that the ringmaster gave you during the show.

“Let me guess, the circus isn’t exactly your thing?” You were pulled out of your mind as the ringmaster stood over you, you must have been distracted with your mind, and you looked up to him, ignoring the daredevil act unfolding behind him, after all, messing around on motorcycles was something you did on the nightly. The ringmaster sat down between you and Angel. His hand coming to squeeze your cheeks. ”You know it’s my job to make people smile, right?”

“I know that.” You forced a little smile, trying your best to keep up the ditzy act, but your exhaustion was clear. “I’m just tired.”

“Hm… will you smile if I give you a gift.”

“Sure!” You chirped up and he smiled and flipped his top hat off of his head and popped it onto your own head. The hat was far too big on you, slipping down your forehead to almost cover your eyes, but he flicked it up so it rested somewhat comfortably on your head. You gave a little giggle as he stood up from next to you. “It’s a bit big on me, don’t you think?”

“A bit.” He smiled, waving off as he jumped back into the circus ring. “Keep my hat warm for me, I’ll be back for it at the end of the show.”

“I will!”

God, you wanted to get the hell out of here.

______________________

“Hey, I need to run to the bathroom,” Angel said, glancing at the only permanent building on the grounds, a unisex bathroom building. “Can you wait outside? I don’t want to be alone right now with Val…”

“Yeah, I’ve got your back.” You nodded, and you watched as Angel jogged over to the restroom. You slowly walked behind a million thoughts running through your mind. You would need to get Angel to the car, you had Valentine’s keys in your bag, so she could drive home and you could call home for a ride before you got suited up because this was a case for a proper detective.

After a few minutes, you felt an uneasy feeling, Angel was in the bathroom too long. No one was really around the bathroom, and breaking bathroom locks was child’s play to you, even as Robin. You rammed your elbow down on the doorknob, breaking it clean off, if Angek was using the restroom, you would apologize and get her something to make up for it, but-

You almost vomited when you saw the bathroom absolutely drenched in blood, but no body. There was a high and narrow window above the sink that was open, letting a cold breeze into the bathroom.

There was too much blood for Angel to be alive, and the walls must have been soundproof so you would not hear a thing, but whoever the murderer was must still have had blood on them which gave you a target. You slammed the broken door shut and you wasted no time to strip out of your civilian clothes and into your suit, if you could not find them as the eldest Wanye daughter, then you would find them as Dove. You leaped out of the open window, climbing up onto the roof, and it only took a few seconds for you to be noticed by civilians, and you heard all the shouts and fingers pointing towards you and normally you would smile with a little girl tugging on her mother’s arm and point up at you and telling her to look up at Dove, but you just could not pretend right now with one, most likely two, of your friends were dead.

This was certainly not a fun night out.

You gazed over the crowd, and you noticed something strange, the game stalls were being closed, and the tents and other attractions were being shut down. Your eyes landed upon the tents that the circus crew stay in, in particular one tent that you noticed had a light on inside of it, it was so bright that you managed to make out a silhouette of someone inside.

You leaped from the building, dashing towards that small tent off on the outskirts of the circus grounds. It would be difficult to take them by surprise and listen in, so you decided to skip that courtesy. You pushed open the flaps of the tent, nothing exactly felt out of the usual in plain sight, but there was the ringermaster, Dick, sitting down on a what was a pretty nice cot. He had already taken off his outer layers and changed into a pair of sweat pants, so if anything he was dressed pretty comfortably. He immediately stood up as if startled at your sudden appearance.

“You… you are one of those heroes… right?” He looked over you, a concerned look upon his face, as he walked over to you as you walked in, looking over the tent for anything suspicious, anything at all. “Did something happen, is someone in trouble?”

“Yes, there were two possible murders tonight, do you know anything, sir?” You questioned as your eyes narrowed upon something under his bed.

“No ma’am, if anyone-”

He fell silent as you reached under his bed, and you pulled out the thing you saw under the bed, the dark blue coat he was wearing earlier that day, only now it was drenched in blood. You held it in front of him for him to see, narrowing your eyes at him from underneath your mask.

“Are you sure?”

There was a moment’s pause before Richard lunged at you, and he was a lot stronger than you expected, as he tackled you to the ground, his forearm coming to pin down your neck, cutting off part of your airflow, and panic set in as his fingers of his free hand touched your mask. You tried to grasp at him, but your punches felt like they were hitting iron as they hit his arms.

“One identity is revealed, it is only fair that the other is shared-”

“NO!” You screamed bloody murder, but as if on instinct, you raised your knee into his gut, which toppled him off of you, but every action has an equal and opposite reaction. You felt the mask peel off from the skin around your eyes, and your hands came up to cover your face, but only for a moment because the next second he grabbed your arms and pinned them down beside both of your head, his face must have looked as horrified as yours was.

“No, no, no, no! Not you!” He screamed between clenched teeth, you felt sick, and you did not know what to think at his pained expression, like as if he was the one who just had his friends murdered. You expected him to fall weak to let you go, but in the blink of an eye, his hands were off your arms and grabbed either side of your head to bring it harshly against the ground…

Everything felt fuzzy, painfully so…

You have been knocked unconscious before, but this time just made you feel bitter.

______________________

You felt sick to your stomach as you opened your eyes, you were most likely concussed from what you could tell, but something felt strange, you were not back at the manor, and you certainly were not at the circus. You were lying on something soft, like a bed, but your surroundings did not look exactly like a bedroom, it looked like a blurry and emptied out storage closet.

“Why… why did it have to be you?” You jumped as you heard his voice again, your vision was just clear enough to make out his figure sitting on the bed as well. “You were just like me… why?”

“W-wha-”

“My parents, they were acrobats… it was at a performance and they were murdered right in front of me… just like your parents were…” Your face must have dropped when you heard him say that, your vision finally cleared up enough to see his face, which was wet with tears, looking back at you. “Your parents… they were those scientists who were killed… you know what it’s like.”

“N-no…”

“All those disgusting, horrible people in the world… those people who think they can get away with anything they want… they deserve to die…”

“Stop it.”

“Like your friends.”

“Shut up.”

“They were responsible for people dying and suffering.” You felt sick to your stomach as you felt him talk about them like that, but then he looked at you with adoration in his eyes. “But you… I’ve heard about you… the sweetest person I’ve ever seen… you even risk your life to save other people.”

You feel like you are going to vomit any second, as your vision finally clears fully, you are indeed in a bed like you thought, in some warehouse closet. The bed is full of plushies, stuffed animals of all shapes and sizes, including that stuffed bear you left in the car with Alice, the only way he could have that is if he…

No…

A sob slipped from your throat as you slowly came upon the realization that all your friends were dead and that you failed to save them, you failed at your job, the job you took in order to protect people from suffering. Your hands fell into your hair, tugging at the strands in your pain and frustration, but you heard Dick coo at you and scoot down the bed to come in oder to sit beside you, his fingers pulling your hands away from your head in order to provent you from hurting yourself.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re safe, you’re in the circus’ storage warehouse out in Bludhaven, no one is going to hurt you here.”

“Why… why kill them?”

“It’s what I always do, if someone deserves to die and they come into my circus, then they die.” He cupped your cheek, leaning forward to press his forehead against your own. “I do it to protect who they have hurt… just like how I am going to protect you… it’s my job to make you smile.”

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Date Night | Bruce Wayne/Batman x OC!Magician

Synopsis: The Batboys give Bruce and Vivian the night off to go on a date by babysitting Valerie. A fun and romantic weekend date takes a turn when an assassin and a bounty comes to ruin it.

When was the last time Bruce and Vivian went out on a date? 

That was the question that Dick, Jason, and Tim had during the hours of silence and staring into space in the sitting room after running into the couple about to “do it” on the BatComputer. While they had their instances of close calls, this was the first time they saw Vivian literally bent over on the panel, then there was the eye-contact with them when they realized they were caught. 

“I didn’t think old people would still be that desperate,” Jason broke the silence.

Tim snorted. “Don’t let Viv hear you say that.”

“I meant the old man who’s having a hard time getting it up.”

“Yeah, don’t let Vivian hear you say that,” said Dick.

Entering the sitting room with Valerie on his shoulders, Damian wondered what the silence was between the three. This was unusual. Usually one of them was saying something stupid and one of them would either go along with it or go against it.

“What happened now?” Damian asked them.

“Did you go to the cave?” Tim spoke.

“No. Haven’t gotten the time. Val’s been helping me pack.”

“I’m sure she’s been a big help too!” Dick reached up to get Valerie from Damian’s shoulders. The girl refused to let go of Damian and hugged her brother’s head. “Aw, come on, kiddo, I don’t get to see you that much anymore.”

“And whose fault is that?” Said Damian.

“Well, things in Bludhaven are busy.”

Damian sighed and took Valerie from his shoulders. “She’s been like this ever since I got the results from my entrance exams. She won’t leave me alone.”

“She’s just going to miss you,” Dick told him. “Valerie, wanna give me a hug?”

Valerie turned to Dick and thought about it but she preferred to stay with Damian.

“So, what’s gotten into you three?” Damian asked them.

“We saw something that we shouldn’t have in the Cave,” said Jason. 

“Is Mom and Father there?” 

“Right now? I think so. I don’t think they’re coming back up any time. They might be waiting for us to head to our rooms before they could head up.”

“Why?”

“It was really, really awkward,” answered Tim.

“Momma?” Valerie asked them. “Dami, can we go to the cave?”

“No!” Dick, Jason, and Tim told her.

Valerie pouted and went to hug Damian. Then they heard it, the clock opening, and from the open arch, they saw Bruce and Vivian, dressed appropriately, walking past the sitting room. The couple stopped again mid-step and saw the boys and Valerie there.

“Finished?” Jason spoke, being the only one with the ball to do so.

“No. It was gone. Like, it won’t be back for a long time,” Vivian muttered and walked away, back to their room, leaving Bruce there watching as the four boys and Valerie look at him with curious eyes. 

“I’ll go see your mother,” Bruce made an excuse and followed Vivian.

“Yeah, go do that,” Jason muttered.

At dinner, neither Bruce nor Vivian joined them at the table. According to Alfred, the couple decided to stay in their room and have dinner there.

“How come they get to eat in their room?” Valerie huffed.

“Because they're grown ups,” Jason answered.

“That's not fair.”

“Tell them that.”

~ * ~

The idea of the night off from patrol, work, and babysitting came from Dick. He surprised everyone in their comms when he suddenly asked Batman: “When was the last time you and Mama Bird went out on a date?”

Batman turned to Nightwing and said, “Not the time.”

“Come on, it's a quiet night.”

Batman sighed. “A while now. Since our encounter with Hush, not so much. Viv had recovered after surgery. Valerie had therapy—has therapy. Then it's just one fight after the other since then. Both with the Justice League and here.”

“Well, I was thinking, why not I take Val to my place and Babs and I could babysit.”

Batman turned to Dick with an incredulous look. Valerie in Bludhaven? While he respects his son and sees the work that Nightwing has done in his city, he's not sure if Bludhaven is anywhere safer than Gotham. 

“Why not babysit her in the manor?”

Nightwing took a breath. “Remember the last time we babysit her in the manor? We experienced some Insidious 2 shit through the baby monitor then. And I do not want to deal with that… again.”

“Viv made sure the ghosts are gone.”

“Not risking it.” Since that incident, Dick would either have Barbara over with him or Cassandra and Duke so he could have someone to go to when ghosts start to haunt Valerie again.  “Come on, it'll be fun. Haley’s there and he misses her, and we can hang out. I promise we won't do anything dangerous. I'll even bring Damian with me, if that'll help with my case.”

“I'll talk to Viv about it and see.”

“I think old age has gotten to you---you forget, I think she’ll like the spontaneity.” 

There was a moment of silence, Batman was thinking really hard about it. “I’ll look at her schedule… but I still think Viv and I would have some peace of mind if you guys babysat Val at the Manor.”

“Where’s the trust?” Nightwing smirked.

“You can bring Haley over and some friends if you want.”

“Wally and Linda?”

“Yes.”

“And when you get home…”

“I’ll book us a hotel.”

Dick grinned. “Hotel, huh? How long?”

“Depends on the schedule — who are you calling?” 

“Mama Bird,” Dick said right before Vivian answered his call. “Hiya, Mom!”

A sigh. “What happened?” Vivian asked.

“No trouble tonight, just want to check up on ya and the baby bird.”

“Val’s asleep, she’s here beside me. Is Bruce with you?”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Tell him, Val’s really, really clingy tonight and won’t sleep in her own bed.”

“I’ll tell him that. Listen, I was wondering, got any plans this weekend?”

He was sure he heard her use magic to get her journal and check her calendar. “No, I think I’m free this weekend—wow, a free weekend. That’s the first in a,” a deep sigh, “a very, very long time.”

“Got any plans?”

“No, and I’m sure Bruce is busy then too. I think I’ll just hang out in the manor and do mom and wife stuff.”

“Wine and drama shows?” Dick teased.

“Laundry, Dick. I got laundry to do, rooms to clean with magic, and a kid to make sure she’s alive.”

“Well, okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah–hey, why did you ask anyway?”

“Gotta go, bye, love you!” Dick ended the call before Vivian could ask again. Then he turned to Bruce and asked about his weekend plans.

“I have a meeting,” said Bruce.

“Move it.”

“It’s important.”

“More important than your marriage?”

“I’ll move it.”

“Yeah, you will.”

~ * ~

Friday came and, surprisingly, Bruce went to Gotham University to pick up Vivian—or hitch a ride with her. His appearance shocked everyone on campus, lately Bruce hasn’t been around due to his busy schedule. The last time he was there was so long ago that the sight of him coming out of the car driven by his eldest son, holding a box of chocolate roses in one hand, wearing a good looking suit, shocked everyone.

Walking through the familiar halls of what was formerly known as Elliot’s Hall, now Wayne Hall, Bruce went to Vivian’s last class for the day and entered the room. Just as he expected, it was an amphitheater style classroom, students sitting on the seats creating a crescent shape, and at the center was Vivian with her projector, laptop, and the white screen that had the image of an 1800s painting of Gotham’s founders..

He made sure to stay at the back but it didn’t take long before her students and Vivian to notice him there.

She must have been shocked because she completely froze in her spot and only got back when someone coughed.

“Right, sorry… uh, where was I?” Vivian stuttered.

“You were discussing the meaning of the placement of each subject, the elements around it, Professor,” Bruce answered.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne.” Her students giggled. “You know, class is almost done in a few minutes. We can stop here for today.” The students cheered. “I’ll see you guys on Monday, don’t forget to read the second passage.”

As one by one the students left, Bruce made his way to the center where he came close to Vivian waiting for him.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Vivian said.

“I guess I haven’t been visiting for a while now, it’s you who's always at Wayne Tower now. I miss this.”

“Me too… so, what brings you here?”

“Can’t I visit my wife at her place of work with a romantic gesture?”

Vivian accepted the box of chocolates. “You are more than welcome to, but it’s just odd now with our schedule.”

“We have been too engaged with our work for these past few months, then there’s Val.”

“Who we love so much,” Vivian slung her arms around his neck as he held her waist. “And the boys and girls.”

“Yes, then Alfred, and then the situation with Hush, your recovery, Val’s therapy, Damian going to university…”

“I think it’s safe to say this year isn’t the best one for the Waynes.”

Bruce continued, “That we forgot about us. I booked us a hotel suite.”

Vivian laughed. “What?”

“Just us for the weekend, we check in tonight.”

Oh, he’s serious. “Really?” She couldn’t stop the grin.

Dick was right, again, spontaneity is romantic. How could he have forgotten that?

“I did,” Bruce smiled.

“But what about meetings tomorrow?”

“Moved them.”

“Our things?”

“Alfred packed everything and had them brought to the hotel.”

“And Val?”

“Dick and the others are babysitting. Tim and Kate will be on patrol, Oracle will be their guide.”

“You had this all figured out, didn’t you, Wayne?”

“Well? Do you want to run away with me this weekend, Pryor?”

“Always, my love,” she got on her toes and kissed him softly. Pulling away, Bruce quickly grabbed her things, putting them in her bag and started dragging Vivian up the stairs and to the door. Laughing, Vivian told him, “Bruce, I have to get something from the faculty office!”

After a quick trip to the office, where she told everyone to not disturb her weekend, she and Bruce walked arm in arm out of Gotham University and went to her car where they saw Dick, Barbara, and Damian waiting beside Bruce’s own vehicle and Valerie being carried by Damian.

“Awe, my babies!” Vivian hugged Valerie and Damian.

“Mumma!” Valerie snuggled to Vivian’s embrace.

“Don’t let Jason hear that,” Dick snickered.

“Too late,” Barbara took a photo of Vivian hugging Valerie and Damian and sent it to the group chat with the caption: she said it, they’re her babies.

Instantly, Jason replied: the gremlin is no baby. 

“Father said you’re going away this weekend,” Damian spoke.

“I guess we are, he surprised me with the plans,” said Vivian.

That was his cue to get Val, Dick got up from the car he was sitting in and went to get the girl. “Okay, say goodbye to Momma, Val, she and Dada have to go out a bit.” Valerie turned to her parents, lips pouting. “We talked about this, kiddo.”

Looking down, disappointed, Valerie said, “Okay.”

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll be good with us,” Damian told his parents, mostly Vivian.

“I know,” Vivian hugged Damian again, “Thank you for doing this, sweetheart. You both too.”

“Actually, it’s a full house tonight, everyone’s coming home to patrol and babysit,” Barbara shrugged. “It was Dick’s idea.”

“Hey, If I’m going to babysit in a haunted place, I better do it with a full house where there’s no way a ghost can swoop in and take her,” Dick told Barbara.

“We better get going,” Bruce checked his watch. “We check in at six, and the hotel is… far.”

“How far?” Vivian asked.

“New York far.”

“That’s an hour drive, Bruce.”

“Not with traffic.”

“Okay,” Vivian kissed Damian’s forehead, “I love you,” she went to Dick and did the same but ended up kissing his cheek with how tall he was, “I love you,” then the same with Barbara, “I love you, and I owe you,” then to Val who she kissed repeatedly on her chubby cheeks, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” 

Valerie giggled, “I love you, Momma!”

When it was Bruce’s turn, she placed a kiss on Valerie’s forehead and whispered, “Behave, okay? Momma and Dada love you.”

“I will, I love you too, Dada,” Valerie whispered.

“Do we also get one?” Dick grinned mischievously at Bruce.

Bruce only hummed as a response.

Getting in the car Bruce and Vivian drove off to their couple’s only weekend and disappeared down the road, leaving Vivian’s car with Dick, Barbara, and Damian, and Valerie who watched her father’s car disappear.

“Bye, bye,” Valerie waved at the car.

~ * ~

The hotel was extravagant. Leave it to Bruce to book a room in a five star hotel for a spontaneous weekend away. After leaving the car for the valet, their bags with the bellhop, then getting their keycard from the front desk, Bruce pulled Vivian through the hall that was an actual art piece with the paintings, the architecture, and not to mention the furniture. 

“You can look at those later!” Bruce said as he pressed the button of the elevator and pulled her inside. He immediately pressed the button to close the doors and then their floor before anyone could enter, then he had Vivian against the elevator wall.

“Impatient, Mr. Wayne?” Vivian giggled.

“I’m just excited to be here with you,” Bruce kissed her lips. Wrapping his arms around her, Bruce pulled Vivian to his body and off the ground–

Ding!

A cough broke them from their kiss.

It wasn’t their floor. 

An elderly couple were waiting at the open elevator doors, both smiling cheekily at them and they looked like they just got back from the hotel swimming pool.

“Going up?” Bruce asked them after fixing himself.

The old man nodded and entered with his wife. The elderly woman giggled when she and Vivian met gazes. The elevator moved and a couple of floors later it stopped at the two elderly couple’s floor.

“Enjoy your stay, kids!” The elderly man said as he walked out with his wife. “But keep the fun in the room, okay?”

“We’ll do,” Bruce chuckled and closed the doors.

When the elevator finally reached their floor, Bruce held Vivian’s hand and led her to their room. As always, Bruce booked the penthouse suite even if it was just them, right after he opened the door he surprised Vivian by swooping her off the ground and carrying her in his arms as they entered the room.

Laughing, Vivian said, “Is this a honeymoon?”

“It can be, but I was thinking we would go abroad and take a yacht for our next honeymoon,” Bruce told her.

Entering the bedroom, he tossed Vivian to the bed and climbed over to cage her in. The entire time, Bruce watched as his wife laughed at his antics. He loves seeing her smile, he loves hearing her laugh, and he loves the way she still blushes whenever he makes a romantic gesture.

“So what do you have planned for us?” Vivian asked him.

“A trip around New York? Visit a couple of museums, see a play, walk in the park.”

“That’s a lot for just the weekend.”

“Or we could just stay in here,” he kissed her lips. “In bed… call room service if we get hungry… clothes are optional, of course.”

Vivian hummed a moan when he kissed that spot on her neck. “I like that plan too… but I think we can figure something out to do all of that.”

“But for tonight, we’re staying here. I even have room service bring us our dinner, it should be here any minute now.”

Right on time, there was a knock on the door.

“That was fast,” Vivian sat up as Bruce got off her. “Go get that, I’ll just check in with Dick and the others.”

“Okay, but once we head to the table no phones,” Bruce said as he left the room.

~ * ~

“Uhh, guys, Viv’s calling!” Tim called out.

“Don't answer it!” Stephanie told him.

Chaos befell into Wayne Manor as soon as Dick and the others came back with Valerie. Everyone thought it would be a great idea to host a little sleepover with the other super kids, like Don and Dawn Allen, Lizzie Prince, Conner Lance-Queen, Zachary Zatara so Valerie could play with kids her age and be herself. They knew how easy it is when she finds friends with people who shares the similar situation as hers---parents being superheroes---but as soon as they all came together, the Robins all realized having a super-kids sleepover isn't a good idea. At all.

“If we don't answer it she'll start thinking that something bad is happening!” Duke told them as he ran to stop Conner from shooting a plunger arrow at the apple on Don's head. 

“But if we answer she'll definitely know what's wrong!” 

After catching Valerie from sliding down the stairs, Jason brought her to the living room and handed her to Damian and said, “Later, losers! I'm heading out for patrol!”

Leaving with him were Batgirl, Orphan, and Spoiler.

“Did they just escape babysitting duties?” Duke said.

“VIV'S STILL CALLING!” Tim reminded them.

Dick went to him and grabbed the phone to answer, “Hiya, Mom!”

“What's wrong? What happened?” Vivian asked.

“Wow, where's the trust?” Dick laughed nervously.

“You don't use that unless there's something wrong or if you need something.”

“I would never---that is not---I cannot believe that---”

“Dick.”

“Okay, yeah, just a little hiccup with the other kids.”

“Other kids? What do you mean other kids?”

“We thought it'd be nice if Val spends some time with some kids she knows. Alittle sleepover. But we got it all covered.” He ducked before the plunger arrow got his face. It stuck at the wall right beside the family portrait. Because of that, Dick took Conner's archery set and hit it somewhere.

“Are you sure everything's okay?” Vivian asked. “I can pop by and help--”

“Don't!” Dick yelped. “Don't even---just enjoy the night, we got this!”

The tug on his pants had Dick look down. It was Valerie and she was asking if that was her mother talking on the phone. Dick picked her up from the ground and handed the phone to her.

“Hi Momma!” Valerie said.

“Hi, Baby! How are you?”

“I'm fine. We're having so much fun!”

“That's nice to hear. Are you all behaving for Dick and the others?”

“We are!” 

Dick raised a brow at her for that.

“Good, don't cause too much trouble okay?”

“Okay! I love you!”

“Mom and Dad loves you too, baby,” Vivian blew a kiss just as Valerie did. “Okay, let me talk to Dick again.

Valerie handed the phone back to him, and Dick said, “See? We got everything covered! Just relax, Viv. Enjoy your weekend. Who knows you might come back with another surprise. Something similar to Valerie.”

Vivian laughed. “If only… okay,I'll go now. Love you all, and thanks for this.”

“Love you too, Mom. I gotta go now. Bye!” Dick ended the call and let out a sigh of relief, he turned to Valerie and tickled her tummy. “Mission accomplished. Now, time for dinner.”

~ * ~

Dinner in their hotel room wasn't the most romantic thing they had but Vivian loved it. Right after her call, she went to to see what Bruce got them for their meal and what greeted her was a table set by the large windows that looks out to the city, their favorite dishes, wine and ginger ale. There was dessert, which were the cakes they would get and share from their favorite cafe because Vivian likes taking bites from Bruce's slice. Then Bruce who stood there, pulling out the chair for her.

“It's not really a five star restaurant, but the chef here is well known,” said Bruce as he helped her to her seat.

“As long as we're not eating at home,” Vivian laughed. “I love it, and I love what you have set up.” Vivian took her glass of champagne and clinked it with Bruce's ginger ale. “You still know how to make this woman swoon over you, Wayne. So, what did Dick tell you to have you do all of this?”

Bruce paused before he could take a bite of his food, when he looked at her he saw a smirk on her face. Of course, there's nothing she misses.

Sighing, Bruce admits that since the boys caught them in the Cave, Dick would join him in patrols and try to convince him to do something like this. 

It was the pouting look on his face---no, not pouting, Bruce said he never pouts. He frowns. So, the frown on his face made Vivian chuckle and she reached out to hold his hand and say, “Well, thank you Dick for getting this old man to finally ask me out on a date… and thank you, my love, for dropping your plans so we can have the weekend off.”

“I do have plans to take you out, you know.”

“Let's not use that phrase, knowing our family's line of work.”

“Things just start to get buys with our lives and with the JLA.”

“Hey, what matters is we're here now and we're having this lovely dinner to rekindle our love.”

Bruce raised his brow, “Does it need rekindling?”

“You tell me.”

He got up from his seat and pulled Vivian with him to the open space where he twirled her around and had her in place, his hand on her waist and the other holding hers, both swaying to the soft music played in the room.

“There was never a time where this stopped beating for you, Viv,” Bruce placed her hand on his chest. “There's nothing to rekindle, it still burns as it did. Stronger even.”

“Even when times become too much of a routine?”

“Even then.”

“Even if we don't see each other often?”

“It burns brighter in those time,” Bruce leaned down to rest his forehead on hers, his nose brushing against Vivian's, their lips just inches from one another.

“Even when things start to be a little mundane?”

“I yearn for those things. Mornings where we wake up still in bed, having breakfast together with Val and the others. Where we just have our day as a normal family. Do you?”

“I want that too… I want that everyday if we can. I'm just worried you'd get bored of it considering the life we've lived,” she chuckled nervously. “The adventures and the excitement are not the same as they were before.”

“All I want is to be with you, Viv. I want to have time with you that doesn't have someone chasing our asses,” they both laughed this time. “You are the person I want on my side whether it's a missior or having to drive to school drop-offs and grocery shopping.”

“Bruce.”

“Yes?”

She took his hand from her waist and placed it on her chest, “This never faded too. It grows stronger everyday.”

“I'm glad.”

“Hey, Batman, I saw the hot tub by the balcony. I was wondering if you're up for something a little wild tonight?” she bit her lip in anticipation.

“I'm not saying no to that, Professor… after we have dinner.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. And an hour of getting it down---did you bring your meds?”

He leaned back and gave her a look then went back to the table to continue his meal.

“I'm kidding! Bruce, come on, it was a joke, don't be like that!” She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind, then kissed his cheek. “It was a joke, but seriously…”

“I did.”

“Good. And your knee…”

“I have the support too.”

“Good,” she kissed his lips and whispered, “I'm sorry, forgive me?”

“Forgiven. I guess this just proves that my wife still cares for me.”

“I never stopped… I'll make sure to take it easy on you later, old man.”

He hummed in annoyance.

“I'm kidding! You can rail me over if you want later, just don't--”

“Don't even finish that sentence.”

“Stopping, stopping right now,” she kissed him again and went back to her seat.

They ate in a comfortable silence until Bruce asked, “You meant what you said about me…”

“Yup.”

He smirked. “I've been pretty pent up.”

Vivian looked at him with the same look. “Good, because no one's walking in on us tonight, Mr. Wayne. Just make sure we take our time.”

“I'll put the do not disturb sign then.”

~ * ~

Was it a good idea to host a super-kids sleepover without an exact plan?

No.

Was it worth it?

It was, especially when Dick and the others, how happy Valerie was when she went to bed, woke up, had breakfast with her friends before they were picked up by their parents. As soon as Zachary was taken through the portal by John, and Diana picked up Lizzie, Valerie ran to her eldest brother and hugged him tight and said, “Thank you! That was the best sleepover ever! I just wish Bunny could be here!”

“Awe, glad you had fun, kiddo,” Dick picked her off the ground. 

“Can we do that again?”

“Let's put a pin on that, Val,” Duke chuckled.

“I don't have classes today, why don't we head to the park?” Damian suggested. “Or the mall, we can look around. You told me you wanted something from the store.”

“But I don't have enough chore money for it,” Valerie told him.

Ah, the good old chore money. Even sweet little Valerie didn't get out of that with Vivian. The moment Valerie started asking for more toys, Vivian introduced to her the good old tactic she used for every one of them. Working. It was just simple things with Valerie---dusting the shelves, helping Alfred in the kitchen for both cooking and cleaning, polishing some fancy thing, walking their pets, and cleaning up her brothers’ and sisters’ rooms. 

“We'll share it,” said Damian.

“But Momma said--”

“Just this time, okay?”

Valerie jumped into Damian's arms and hugged him, “Okay! When are Momma and Dad coming home?”

“Do you wanna call Mom and Father and see how they are?”

Before Damian could get his phone, Dick snatched it away. “No one calls them. Not until…” he checked his watch. “After lunch.”

“Why?” 

“You know why,” Dick gave him a pointed look.

“Right.”

“But I wanna see Mom and Dad,” Valerie pouted.

Duke came and had her set down on the ground. “Why don't we start on the chores and we can show Viv all you did when they get home?”

“And I can get more money to buy the tools I saw! Well, after taxes.”

“Taxes?”

“Yeah, Stephie and Tim told me all about taxes.”

“They did, huh…”

“Duke, what do you think Mom and Dad are doing now?”

“Uh…”

~ * ~

“Fuck, Vivian!” Bruce grunted as held her by the hair, fisting it as he tried so hard not to push her down. After last night, Bruce didn't expect their morning to start out like this: him waking up, with the usual morning wood, and then Vivian seeing it as soon as her eyes opened and asked him to sit up so she could help him out.

“Right there, just like that,” he groaned as he thrusted his hips up to go deep into her. Then he came, a little too much it seems.

Pulling off of him, Vivian tried to wipe the cum that got all over her chin and chest. Bruce took the towel they discarded to the floor last night and helped her clean up, then placed a kiss on her cheek. 

“I never understand why you like that so much,” Bruce chuckled.

“It's the same thing with you when you eat me out,” Vivian pushed him back to lie down, slowly moving her hips over his crotch, showing him how it turns her on. Bruce groaned and helped her move until he was hard again.

“Does it bother you?” She asked him.

“A little, only because I feel like I'm… I'm disrespecting you,” he let out a moan as Vivian sank down around him. 

“You're not, Wayne. Besides, I like seeing you like this,” She leaned down and kissed him.

“Like what?”

“Vulnerable, but in a good way.”

Smirking, Bruce flipped them over so he was on top and he started to move in a steady pace, “I like seeing you like this too, Pryor.”

Just as he was picking up the pace, the phone at their bedside rang, and to make things interesting, Bruce answered it, making Vivian cover her lips.

“Good morning, Mr. Wayne! Your and Mrs. Wayne's breakfast has been brought up just as you instructed, sir,” said the hotel manager.

“Just have them leave it at the table. We're a little preoccupied,” Bruce smirked down at Vivian who hit his shoulder, making him laugh.

“Very well, sir.”

The call ended, and outside, Bruce and Vivian heard the door open and the staff setting the cart of food to the table where they had dinner.

“I can't believe you,” Vivian whispered.

Bruce leaned down and kissed her deeply to keep their noise to a minimum as he kept thrusting into her. Once he heard the door closed, Bruce pulled back and brought Vivian with him as he sat up. It didn't take long until he came, and his hold on Vivian tightened as he waited for the spasms to stop.

“Oh god,  I love you,” Vivian sighed as she reached her release. 

Bruce chuckled. “I love you too,” he had her look up so he could kiss her lips. 

~ * ~

They had their breakfast in bed. Bruce brought over the cart from the dining room to their room and just spent the rest of the morning in bed, doing what they used to do every time they had a slow day. Lay in, eat, watch some television, Bruce would try to find a channel that had one of her documentaries while Vivian would fight him to get the remote so they wouldn't. It was mundane but they loved it. It was their time together.

By afternoon, the two left the hotel to go around the city. They went to the Museum of Modern Art, where Vivian was identified by the curator and offered her and Bruce a private tour of the gallery, but declined and said they were happy to join the group tours. It was funny when a couple of New Yorkers knew who Bruce Wayne was and gave him the usual New Yorker and New Jerseyan rivalry. He took it lightly. 

At the end of the tour, the curator gave them a little token as a souvenir and asked if they could have a photo with them for their post.

“Just make sure to post it when we leave by tomorrow,” Vivian jokingly said. “But seriously, we'd love to but we're here on a little weekend date.”

After MoMA, the two went around the city more. Went to the AMerican Museum of Natural History, The Met, the Guggenheim Museum, and by sheer coincidence, they went to The New York International Auto Show where many were trying to convince him to buy the car once they visit their local dealership. But those weren't the cars he was interested in. In fact, right after the Auto Show, Bruce made a little detour to a place owned by a man who he met in the auto show to see a car they were talking about.

“Bruce, why are we…” Vivian asked him.

“Remember when Val helped me with the car?” Bruce told her as they followed the elderly gentleman.

“Yeah, and?”

“I've been thinking. Since she's been saving up to buy her own toolset, we have our little project car.”

“Please don't — a project car is different from a toy car. She's too young.”

“It'll be our little bonding time. We fix it up so when she gets her license, she has a car and she worked hard for it too.”

“I still think it's a little too much.”

“Please, Viv?” Bruce squeezed her hand.

Vivian sighed. “Fine, but not too expensive.”

“We'll see if the price is right for it.”

The old man showed them the car. It was a black Audi S4 C4 Quattro, parked right at the far end of his extravagant garage, who has seen better days. The car won't start, has some dents, and leaks. The only reason why he kept it is because it was his very first car.

“And why you do want to sell it now?” Vivian asked.

“I planned to have this car be a little project for me and my boy but he was never interested in them. Then I heard Mr. Wayne talk about his little girl and I thought, why not? Maybe he can give life to this old thing and give her a damn good childhood too.”

When it came to the cost, Bruce didn't flinch at all. Vivian thought it was because he appreciated the man's intentions, but really they said it was a fair price for the old thing. The old man even paid for the transport of it to Wayne Manor! After a couple of paperworks, which was faster than expected, they were packing things up.

“I think they'll be in it for a surprise,” said Vivian as they watched the car---fixed with a bow on top---be brought out by a tow truck and brought to Gotham.

~ * ~

“Uh, guys, there's someone here who says we have a delivery?” Duke called for anyone in the Manor as he faced the delivery guy who has a tow truck dragging an old looking car. God, why did Alfred have to leave for a vacation now? He’s still not used to any of this. Well, he didn't really stay long in Wayne Manor since Vivian helped with healing his parents, but he comes and goes to see everyone, and he is Signal after all!

But this was way out of his scope.

“What delivery?” Tim came with Valerie on his shoulders.

“Timmy, it's a car!” Valerie pointed.

“Bruce bought a car in New York?” 

“Father did what?” Damian came with Dick, Jason, and Cassandra.

“Listen, man, we're just here to drop this off. Sign it so we can go,” said the delivery guy.

“Uh, yeah, sure---Dick!” Duke handed the clipboard to the eldest one of them.

Dick signed and handed back the clipboard. The delivery guy handed them the keys, had the car put down and they were gone.

They approached the car with curiosity, and so Jason can drive it into the garage.

“THE DAMN THING DOESN'T WORK!” Jason told them, slamming the door shut. “Why the hell would Bruce buy this?!”

“It has a bow!” Cassandra pointed at the top.

“Yeah, we see that.”

“And a note,” Duke took it and read, “For Valerie, we'll start working on it once we get home. Love, Dad.”

“Bruce brought her a car?!” Jason exclaimed, reading the note. “She's one!”

Valerie pouted, “I'm five!”

“It's a project car,” said Duke. “They're gonna work on it together.”

“Damian, can we buy the tools now?” Valerie tugged on Damian's hoodie.

“Let's go,” Damian took her from Tim and brought her inside to get changed. “Todd, get the car inside before it rains!”

“He bought it, he should push it!”

“It’s for Val!”

Jason groaned and told Duke to man the driver's seat while he, Tim, and Dick push.

~ * ~

“They got the car,” Vivian told Bruce. They were having a late lunch in a nice restaurant in the city. “Jason had to push it to the garage. Duke panicked when it came. And… would they stop these spam-messages?” Vivian waited for the moving three dots to stop and for the last message (hopefully the last message) to be sent. “And Damian's taking Valerie out tool shopping because she did a bunch of chores and I owe her twenty bucks.”

“That's a lot of information for one afternoon.”

“I know. And they're not done… Jason says you're a fucking idiot to buy a car that doesn't work.”

“It's a project car. Val and I are supposed to work on it.”

Vivian typed his reply.

Jason responded: “He stands by what he says.”

Bruce sighed. “We worked on the bike before.”

“I'm telling him that right now… and he went offline.” Putting down her phone, Vivian returned to her food and asked Bruce, “And what do we have planned for tonight?”

“There's an orchestra playing tonight at Carnegie Hall. We can go see that.”

“I'm sure you already bought the tickets, I'd love to go. What time?”

“It starts at seven.”

“Then we better head out now so we can get ready---so that's why Alfred put my blue dress in the bag. I thought he was just over preparing.”

“He did. He even packed my tux and dancing shoes… and my uniform.”

~ * ~

That night, as the Waynes prepared for the concert, a man stood atop a building watching through his sniper's lense as Vivian Wayne walked around the hotel room, putting on her dress for the evening and then calling for her husband to help with the zipper. 

This was going to be an easy job.

~ * ~

The Waynes sat at the nosebleed section, with a good view of the show. The entire time, Vivian watched in awe as the orchestra played their music, and her hand never let go of Bruce's. Though the sho was in front of them, Bruce couldn't stop looking at her, and whenever Vivian would catch him, she would have him turn his face to the stage.

When was the last time they did something like this? It's been so long, the nearest memory was probably before the whole thing with Hush. He wouldn't even call it a night out since they only had dinner then went home. The last time they did something like this was probably way before Valerie was born. Before her father, Dream, revealed  himself to them.

He couldn't believe he just let things be so complacent between them, but he was lucky. He was lucky to have someone who understood his work ethic, his code, and the many reasons why he can't always be there, and who can help him as both Bruce Wayne and Batman. 

“It'll be rude if you don't watch,” Vivian told him.

He only chuckled and looked ahead, but as he turned his attention to the stage, he saw it.

A red line, faint, but it was there, aimed at —

“GET DOWN!” Bruce pulled Vivian to the ground as the shot was fired.

People shrieked in fear as they heard the loud sound of a sniper firing. The bullet shot went through Vivian's seat and got the person sitting a seat above her, hitting their leg.

“Are you okay?” Bruce checked his wife from head to toe while still on the ground.

“I am---shit!”

Another shot was fired, the bullet would have gotte Vivian's head if it weren't for the shield she placed around them, stopping the bullet mid air right as it went through the fence. 

“Who is that?” Vivian asked.

“I don't know,” Bruce removed his coat and got it around her hiding her red hair that stood out from the crowd. 

“Go, I can handle this.”

“I'm not leaving you, Viv--”

Vivian kissed his lips and said, “Go do your job, Batman. I'll make sure these people get out safe.”

Nodding, Bruce ran for cover so he could take out his uniform and get that son of a bitch who shot at his wife.

~ * ~

Deathstroke let out a chuckle as he watched the figure of Bruce Wayne flee the opera while leaving his wife crouching on the ground. “Husband of the year, everyone,” he muttered as he prepared another shot. He couldn't understand why his shots were not working. Those were, aside from the first one, sure to blow that woman's brains out, but she was still there. Standing, well crouching, and hiding from him. 

Black Mask was right, something ain't right about Wayne's woman. It was some sort of poetic justice because he lost his legacy to the Waynes, including his wife who left him after Janus Cosmetics was bought by Wayne Enterprises. But Deathstroke didn't really see it but he wasn't going to say no for the bounty on Vivian Wayne's head. Besides, why wait now to do it?

Well, nothing really makes sense to a madman.

But money is money, and Deathstroke wasn't going to say no to a fifteen million contract as easy as this. 

It was supposed to be easy but this bitch won't die!

The theater was empty, and all that was left were him and Vivian Wayne.

“This time, this bullet is going through your skull,” Deathstroke muttered as he made his aim.

But before he could pull the trigger, Deathstroke was kicked off the catwalk and was falling to the stage, he used his grappling and landed safely the ground. Following him down, landing on the stage with his big cape and the cowl was none other than Batman.

“You know, when Mask told me about the hit, I didn't just take it for the money,” Slade got out his sword. “I took it because I knew it'll hurt you like hell.”

“Your first wrong decision was taking it at all, the second is coming here,” said Batman.

Deathstroke got out his sword and charged at him. Batman blocked Deathstroke’s blade with his gauntlets and the blades attached to them, he deflected each swing that came until he got the sword locked between the gauntlet spikes and broke it. But Deathstroke wasn't done, he used his broken sword as a knife and changed his fighting style to get to Batman. 

Slade almost got him, he had Batman leaned back with the blade to his throat, ready to slice, “I might just get the extra once I’m done with you—”

A sudden force pushed Slade off his balance and off of Bruce, sending him crashing to the percussions on the stage. From the nosebleed section, Vivian floated with her magic and her eyes glowing bright gold as she glared at the assassin.

“Mask never told me about that,” Slade muttered when he saw her.

“Still think that money is enough?” Vivian threw her hand to the side, sending the assassin crashing to the wall. Before he could get up, Batman ran up to Slade and kicked him down, then punched him across the face before grabbing the man by his suit and dragging him to the center stage where Vivian stood waiting for them.

“What does Black Mask want?!” Batman demanded.

“Since when did… shit!” Slade hung back his head in realization. “It was you all along. Gotham's witch. I gotta say, it works.”

“We want answers!” Batman punched him across the face.

“I don't give a shit on whatever beef you and Sionis have!” Slade exclaimed. “I just want to get to you!”

Batman took Slade's arm and broke it, making the man roar in pain, then he took Deathstroke by the head and slammed him to the ground, knocking him out completely. 

“We need to go back to Gotham,” said Batman.

~ * ~

The jet came faster than they anticipated, and was piloted by Tim. Batman and Vivian hopped in from the concert hall's roof and were heading back to Gotham to face this trouble.

“So, how's date night?” Tim asked from the passenger seat. Batman has taken the pilot's seat and Vivian at his side. 

“It was fun while it lasted,” Vivian answered as she changed to her work clothes with a snap of her fingers.

“Well, you both can head back right after we deal with this.”

“I already called the hotel to check out. Alfred's coming back to Gotham, but he'll pick up our things first,” said Batman.

“It's okay, Tim. We appreciated the time,” Vivian smiled at him.

“That's good to hear…”

“Red Robin, report,” said Batman.

“Right, as soon as you called, we placed the Manor in lockdown to keep Valerie safe. There hasn't been any attempts on her when we went out to look for her tools. Right now, Dick is leading the others to scout Black Mask.”

“And who's left with Val?” Vivian asked.

“Damian and Duke.”

“Good.”

“Did you get anything to why Sionis wants Vivian Wayne?” Batman asked.

“We did… same old, same old. Sionis is still pissed with Wayne Enterprises buying Janus Cosmetics. Which led to his villain origin story of getting revenge on Bruce Wayne because he lost his legacy and his wife because of it.”

“That was decades ago,” Vivian’s brows furrowed.

“The criminally insane doesn't need to have any good reason. Sometimes it's the old bagage they carry that drives them forward,” Bruce reminded her. “But still, why act now?”

“Considering the history of Janus Cosmetics, we think it has something to do with Wayne Enterprises’ rebranding of your cosmetics line to a derma cosmetics line that specializes in… well anything that Janus Cosmetics didn't do, especially when Sionis was the CEO. And there was the article that was published that reopened closed wounds,” Tim sent the online article to the monitor, giving Bruce a glimpse of it.

“Whoever wrote this article, is sick for mentioning Janus Cosmetics at all,” Vivian muttered.

“Yeah, and he paid the price too. We found his body at his building with his face burned, and a tube of that old Janus Cosmetics cream that causes skin rash and burns. He was wearing a mask too.”

“Once we get to Gotham, we'll drop off Vivian at the Manor and we're going after him.”

“Bruce--”

“It would give me some peace of mind if I know if Val is safe with you.”

Vivian gave in and nodded. “Okay, but be safe. All of you.”

Arriving at Wayne Manor, at the Cave specifically, Vivian went straight upstairs where she found Valerie playing with her toy tools in the living room with Damian and Duke. When she saw her mother, the girl ran up to her and begged to be carried. 

“You're back!”

“We are,” Vivian kissed her cheek. “How are you?”

“Is everything alright, Momma?”

“Why do you ask that, baby?”

“Because Dick and the others left and Dada's wearing his Batman costume,” Valerie turned to her father.

Bruce removed his cowl and went to take Valerie to his arms. “Everything's fine, Val.”

“Don't lie,” Valerie pouted.

“We just have something to do. But everything is fine. You're safe.”

“Okay. Thank you for the gift, Dad!” Valerie hugged him tight. “Can we work on it now?”

“When we get back. I promise,” Bruce told her. “Now stay here with your Mom, okay?”

“Okay!”

Handing over Valerie back to Vivian, Bruce said his goodbye to them then left with Red Robin to use the Batmobile to get to Sionis.

~ *~

Arriving at Sionis’ warehouse, Batman met up with Nightwing at the top and watched the movements of the men. Before he could ask for a report, Nightwing told: “I sent Red Hood, Spoiler, and Orphan to the WE warehouse where the new cosmetic supplies are stored. We have intel that Sionis plans to blow it up, along with the board members in it.”

“And the board?”

“Batwoman's taken care of it. She got them before they were transported to the place,” said Dick.

“Nightwing, there are sentry guns placed at the front and at the vantage points along with guards all armed. Black Mask knows you’re coming,” Oracle spoke.

“Good, I don't plan to make this an easy fight either,” Batman’s fist tightened.

“I'll try to disable the sentry guns,” said Oracle.

“Slade, huh? Where is he now?”

“Threw him in the trunk. Red Robin's driving him to GCPD. Broke his arm. He shot at my wife.”

“He never learns, huh.”

“He doesn't.”

“You guys have thirty seconds to get in before the guns reboot,” said Oracle.

“Let's go,” Batman and Nightwing shot their grappling hooks and glided down, crashing through the window. They were met by the numerous guards of Black Mask and the disabled sentry guns. While midair, the two threw explosive batarangs at the sentry guns, destroying them, then kicked down one of the guards.

They fought side by side, taking out each one of the guards with ease.

“Easy night,” Nightwing commented. “I was expecting more of a fight. I'm offended, Mask!”

“Fight now, talk later!” Batman reprimanded him.

After taking out the last of the guards, Batman marched up to Sionis and grabbed him by his shirt, then headbutted him. Hard.

“You went after her,” Batman said through gritted teeth.

Sionis laughed, “I knew it! I knew it! You have a thing for Wayne's girl!”

Batman punched him across the face but kept his hold on Black Mask's shirt to keep him up.

Mad as he was, Sionis kept rambling. “Holy shit! Is that kid even his? Is it yours?”

Another punch, this time it buried the mask deeper to Sionis’ face, making the man scream in pain. 

“I KNEW IT!” He laughed.

“WHY?!” Batman sneered.

“Because Wayne,” he spat blood at Batman's symbol. “Took everything from me.”

“Wayner Enterprises saved your company that you drove to the ground. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

He knocked down Sionis to the ground, leaving him bleeding against the wall. 

“Oracle, call GCPD and tell them Roman Sionis is waiting for them at Gotham Harbor, Miagani Island,” said Batman. 

“You know what's so great about you, Batman?” Sionis spat out blood from his mouth. “Even when I lose. I win. So go ahead. Call the cops, they'll lock me up, sure. But my lawyer will have me out on bail before the sun's up. And you know what I'm goin’ to do when I get out? I'm gonna dedicate every minute to tracking you down and taking you out. 

“And the best thing about it is there's nothing you can do about it, because you know why? Because the justice system you love so much is a scam. And you? You're a joke! Because you keep tossing us in and we keep bouncing right out… and when I get out, I'll start with that whore of yours and that little bastard--ACK!” Sionis fell to the ground, totally knocked out after Nightwing shot him with his baton's high-voltage tasers. 

“He doesn't know when to shut up, huh?” Nightwing said, his jolly tone gone. He was pissed.

GCPD came a little later, by then Batman and Nightwing have tied up all of Black Mask's men and the man himself, and left them for the cops to take. All the while, Jim Gordon went to the back of the warehouse where he saw the batarang sticking at the wall. A sign to follow. There he saw Batman and Nightwing.

“Sionis plans to go after the Waynes when he gets out,” said Batman. “Specifically, Vivian Pryor-Wayne and Valerie Pryor-Wayne.”

“Quite confident of him to think he will this time,” said Jim. 

“Because he knows the system, Jim.”

“He's not getting out this time, not for a long time,” Jim promised Batman. “And he's not getting the Waynes too.”

Batman only nodded and turned his back to Jim then left with Nightwing.

~ * ~

“So, we're going to flush out all of the fluids first,” Bruce told Valerie as he released the plug of the brake fluids, “later they will do the rest. “Are you listening, Val?”

“Yeah, can I see?” Valerie crawled under the car to see what her father was talking about..

The car they bought was raised off the ground to let Bruce work with ease, and since that morning, they have been working on fixing it one piece at a time. First it was the engine, which they'll be dismantling.

“See?” Bruce pointed to the fluids that were pouring out to the basing they had under. “Now, I want you to go to the driver's seat and hit the brakes when I say okay? You know what that looks like, right?”

“Uh-huh!” Valerie crawled out with her father got to the driver's seat and started pumping the brake with her foot when Bruce gave the signal.

“Okay, that's it!” Bruce told her once everything was out. “So, all the fluids are flushed out….”

As the father and daughter worked on the car in the garage, Vivian went out with Alfred with their snacks and just watched as Bruce spent time with his daughter. After the whole case with Black Mask, and the trial that had Vivian and the others in witness protection, everything went back as things were. Sionis wasn't sent to Black Gate, this time it was in Arkham. The launch of the cosmetics brand of Wayne Enterprises was delayed but it pushed through nonetheless, and everything just went back to how they were.

“Hey, take a break you two, time for lunch,” said Vivian. “Clean your hands!”

“Dad said if the oil isn't staining my shirt anymore it means it won’t get on my food!” Valerie said about to get a sandwich but Alfred took it out of her reach.

“Your hands, young lady,” said Alfred.

“Okay,” Valerie sighed and joined her Grandfather to the wash area.

“Seriously?” Vivian told Bruce. “You told her that?”

“It's an old mechanic's joke,” Bruce had his hands on her waist.

“You're lucky I'm wearing my really old shirt today,” Vivian slung her arms over his neck. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Perfect,” Vivian got on her toes and kissed his lips. “You know how our weekend out was interrupted by Slade and Sionis?”

“Hard to forget. Why?”

“I was thinking maybe, tonight, we could head over to the restaurant where we had our first date and have dinner. I already booked our reservations.”

“Is it dance night?”

“It is, and the band's going to be there.”

Bruce leaned down and kissed her again. “I'd love that. Then maybe we could head down to the beach and have a little fun. What do you say?”

“I'm not saying no to that, Wayne,” Vivian took a breath and just looked at him. Taking everything in, memorizing the face she's already memorized, the smile, his blue eyes. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” He leaned down to kiss her again then turned to get a sandwich but Vivian used magic to get it out of his reach.

“Wash your hands. And don’t think you’re off the hook for telling our daughter that little joke.”

Bruce only laughed and was marching towards the sink to wash.

“She got you too?” Valerie told him.

Bruce couldn’t help his grin and said, “She did. Her house, her rules. She’s the boss.”

“I heard that!” Vivian called out.

Valerie and Bruce winced and then sent each other a cheeky grin. 

“Hurry up, you two or I’m giving these to the ants!”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSWEET GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Do They Eat That Kitty?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTE : Minors DNI. Damian is an adult. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Bruce eats pussy like it’s a goddamn art form—he’s precise, calculated, and maddeningly patient. He starts slow, always. Those big hands spread you open, thumbs keeping you vulnerable as he just looks at you, like you’re a meal he’s been starving for. Then, his tongue starts, slow and flat, dragging up from your entrance to your clit in one smooth stroke that has your breath catching. He doesn’t rush, not at first—he builds you up so slowly that you’re practically begging him to stop teasing. When he gets serious? Oh, you’re fucked. Bruce focuses entirely on your clit, his tongue pressing firm and circling in ways that have your thighs trembling. He slides two fingers inside you, curving them just right to hit that spot, and he watches you. His dark eyes stay locked on your face, reading every reaction like he’s solving some complex puzzle. And god, he loves control. If you try to squirm or close your legs, he growls, low and dangerous, “Stay still, or I’ll stop.” Spoiler: he never actually stops, but the threat alone keeps you in place. When you cum, he doesn’t let up. His tongue keeps working you, dragging you through wave after wave until you’re crying out his name, completely wrecked.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick? He’s a pussy-eating legend. You know how some people enjoy it? Dick fucking loves it. He dives in like it’s his favorite thing in the world, his hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer, his face buried between your legs as he moans like a man possessed. He’s messy about it, too—his tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking on your clit like he’s trying to ruin you. But Dick knows exactly how to build you up. He’ll start with long, teasing licks, making you squirm and whimper, and then he focuses entirely on your clit. His tongue moves in quick, flicking motions, switching it up with soft sucks that send shocks through your entire body. And he’s loud. He moans into you, murmuring things like, “You taste so fucking good,” and “I could stay down here all night.” His fingers? Fucking perfect. He slips two inside you effortlessly, curling them up in time with his tongue until you’re sobbing from the intensity. And Dick doesn’t stop when you cum. Nope. He keeps going, even as you’re begging him for mercy, his grin widening against your skin because he knows he’s got you falling apart.

— JASON TODD ⋆

Jason eats pussy like he’s got something to prove. There’s nothing soft or sweet about it—it’s raw, filthy, and absolutely fucking primal. He doesn’t even bother teasing you. The second your legs are open, his face is buried between them, his tongue lapping at you like he’s starving. His grip on your thighs is bruising—he keeps you pinned in place no matter how much you try to squirm. His tongue is relentless, focusing on your clit with harsh flicks and sucks that have you seeing stars in seconds. Jason’s all about intensity—he groans against you, low and rough, sending vibrations through your body. And when he slides his fingers inside you, It’s game over. He pumps them hard and fast, curling them to hit that sweet spot over and over until you’re screaming his name. Jason loves watching you lose control. He’ll pull back just enough to smirk at you, his lips and chin soaked, and growl, “C’mon, baby. Let me hear you.” And when you finally cum? He doesn’t stop. He forces you to take every second of it, holding you down as he works you through the aftershocks, leaving you completely wrecked.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Damian is precise. He approaches eating pussy like a challenge, determined to reduce you to nothing but gasps and moans. He starts slow, dragging his tongue through your folds with maddening patience, watching your every reaction. His hands hold your thighs apart, firm but not rough, keeping you exactly where he wants you. Once he finds what works, Damian locks in like a man on a mission. His tongue circles your clit in perfect, rhythmic motions, alternating with soft flicks that have your back arching off the bed. He doesn’t get messy—everything he does is intentional, calculated, and devastatingly effective. His fingers join the party soon enough, sliding inside you with ease, curling up to hit your G-spot with every stroke. Damian’s all about control. If you try to move, he tightens his grip, growling, “Stay still. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s also vocal in a way that’s almost mocking. “Look at you. Falling apart for me already.” And when you cum? Damian doesn’t stop. He keeps going, overstimulating you until you’re trembling, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to let you breathe. He’ll finally pull back, wiping his mouth with a smug smirk, because he knows no one else can make you feel like that.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[marinettesaltprompts]

May I offer another deconstruction of a Maribat trope? More specifically the one where a Batboy comes to Dupont, immediately hits it off with Mari & helps expose/ruin everyone and they live happily ever after!

You can't tell me they wouldn't take (1) look at Gabe & immediately have him as a prime suspect. Thus, maybe Tim, Jason, Dick or Damian goes for 'study overseas' & Gabriel graciously offer to let them stay with him for the business connections.

Cue them also immediately picking up on the rancid vibes of Lila, Bustier, Damocles BUT ALSO Marinette bcz surprise! They know how to spot a stalker! They also know how to remain objective & actually investigate. They point out to Adrien that the high road approach is wrong but still take into account that (1) his upbringing conditioned him to be passive & (2) Mari didn't tell him abt the threats and from what they've seen, Adrien definitely would've have let that slide.

And no, they don't bring Mari into the fold bcz they overheard her complaining to Alya abt Adrien's sudden divergence from the private schedule she somehow got her hands on? How she was going to sabotage a random girl for winking at Adrien teasingly?? How they're gonna have a family & hamsters??? And how she expects everyone to listen to her bcz she's their 'Everyday LB'???

Yeah, no. And if they find out she's the actual LB, still NO.

Bcz they see how much of a mess everything is. How she keeps CN out of the loop, expecting him to be the distraction, the goofy sidekick & meatshield. How that applies to the rest of her 'team' who aren't given consistent training. How she makes herself the lynchpin for everything.

More importantly, they see how underutilized CN is. So they take him under their wing in & out of the mask. Experimenting with his Cataclysm & enhanced senses, showing him the darker nitty-gritty places where the downtrodden go to be forgotten, how to act instead of react & assert himself in ways that matter. CN gains popularity as others note how proactive he is in stopping pettier crimes outside of akumas, how he takes the trouble to visit past victims & lend them an ear, etc.

How he & the other vigilante work even better than him & LB.

Naturally, she throws a fit, thinking they're trying to 'undermine' her. Nevermind that they've made more progress in the past month than she ever did in almost 2 years. When she tries to demand CN hand over his miraculous, he refuses, done with her bossiness, & she declares him a 'traitor'.

Cue Mari getting a restraining order & more blogs pointing out the unfair power dynamic of the hero duo. In the end, HM isn't even defeated with a bang but a whimper as CN & the Batboy knock Gabe out before he transforms, send evidence to the police and leave. LB is now left alone to explain to Paris what happened & deal with the fact that they now think she's either incompetent or a glory hound who purposely didn't do her job to milk the attention while Marinette is ALSO blamed for the fallout at Dupont bcz she's as complicit as the rest of them.

CN & Adrien disappear from Paris and maybe the Teen Titans gain a new member. One who's treated as an equal, a friend & after a while, family.

(Idk, for some reason, him joining the Titans sounds more plausible than the Batfam. Thoughts?)

I definetely think the Titans would be a better group for Adrien in terms of social growth because of the variety of people in that group, but the Batfamily is definetely a close second. It doesn't hurt that he's the closest thing to a Batfamily character outside of the costume (we'll just say that he's Selina's nephew ;) )

Lovely post btw!

[jules-writes-stories]

First JEL is a beautiful love story. rly. Its the Azris ! but I think you ruined it a little when you made Eris top in your update, I just can't picture Eris topping a big masculin tattoeed batboy like Az. your Eris has a nose ring, pretty hair and is soft with his mum. I just can't picture him topping Az. the romance in it is top tier and smut is top tier til now. your ocs are rly hot-Mithras I see as bottom and silvan a top. that makes sense to me. and the action and plot is 10/10, so I will keep reading but Eris toping gave me the ick. I just don't see it and hope it doesn't turn pl of from yr story and make ur readers or kudos go down bc its such a beautiful love story !!!

Anon,

I wasn't planning to reply. I deleted your first 3 messages this morning. I told myself that responding would give my story, a story that's 200,000 words and taken months of my life to write, the wrong kind of attention.

But as I watched the messages roll in, now at 9, the thought of you holding my inbox hostage started to stress me out. So here we are.

I'll start with the angel on my shoulder. She thanks you for calling Just Enough Light a love story, because that was always my intention. To write a beautiful, heart wrenching love story for a fictional character I've come to care deeply about. (Yep, I know...silly) But I think I know what's going on here, anon.

You love Eris Vanserra too, don't you? You picture him, and maybe Azriel, a certain way, and that was comfy and nice, and you were settled in, then I went and "switched" that on you and that felt uncomfortable because now the Eris that you've grown to love is different from how you want him to be. It's ok to feel unhappy with my choices as a writer. I'm low key touched that you are invested enough to feel this intensely. But it's not ok to bombard my inbox, or tell me I've ruined my own story.

Because here's the other thing: JEL is a love story, but it's always been an unapologetically queer love story. And my Eris is a queer male. He's not a stand in for a girl. He can have pretty hair, love his mother, wear jewelry and eyeliner and top his masculine, tattooed Illyrian lover. These things can coexist. One should not read a M/M love story and try to force it into a hetero-framework even if that's what one feels more comfortable with. I challenge you to read JEL as it is: an unapologetically queer love story between two queer characters.

And if this is something you cannot do, you are free to click away and find a story or a ship that is more within your comfort zone. I'll be sad to lose readers, but I would rather write for myself than compromise my story in this way.

Now, if you're still with me, the devil on my shoulder wants you to know that I think my smut was hot AF this week and I'm proud of it. I make Azris hurt, but I give them good loving too.

I won't be taking any more anons that are anti top Eris or anti bottom-Az. But if you want to talk more, come out of anon and let's talk. I'm open to civil discourse.

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“My little love,Mama’s got a lot to learn.”

Batboys x single mum reader

My little love by Adele makes me cry every time now that i have kid.Because what if im doing this all wrong.Buttt enjoy!

Bruce Wayne

• At first, Bruce is hesitant — not about you, but about whether he could be a good father figure for your child.

• Once he commits, he commits. He’s suddenly funding your child’s education, upgrading their stroller to a literal tank and reading parenting books at 3AM.

• Surprisingly good at bedtime stories — his deep voice makes fairy tales sound like epic adventures.

• He sometimes slips and calls your kid “ours.” You pretend not to notice, but your heart definitely does.

⸻

Dick Grayson

• Dick loves kids — he’s the type to immediately crouch down to their level and ask their name.

• He’s the fun “stepdad” type — trampoline parks, baking cookies (he burns them), and choreographed dance parties.

• Teaches your kid acrobatics and ends up making them his little sidekick-in-training.

• Loves you fiercely and constantly reassures you that you’re not in this alone anymore.

⸻

Jason Todd

• Jason is surprisingly protective — he softens a lot around your child, even if he still gives off a rough exterior to the world.

• Reads your kid classic literature and gritty detective novels — he says they need “culture,” but he skips the violent parts.

• Carries juice boxes in his jacket like he’s carrying ammo. Snacks on one side, weapons on the other.

• He never talks about being a good role model, but shows up for every school event and parent-teacher conference without fail.

⸻

Tim Drake

• Tim overthinks everything — he googled “how to bond with children” the minute he found out you were a single mum.

• Gets overwhelmed at first but eventually becomes your kid’s favorite nerdy uncle-type. Teaches them coding, chess, and gives them supervised access to the Batcomputer.

• Sleep-deprived bonding moments — your child once woke up from a nightmare and found Tim already awake researching ways to help.

• You once caught them both asleep in front of a monitor, drooling onto a pile of LEGOs and snack wrappers.

Damian Wayne (Angsty Edition)

• When you first meet, Damian is distant. He’s polite — in that blunt, vaguely condescending way — but he keeps emotional distance from both you and your child.

• It’s not personal. He’s terrified of failing. Of becoming like his mother. Of inheriting the worst of both legacies and ruining a child that isn’t even his.

• He watches from the sidelines — his expression unreadable as your child laughs, clutches your hand, calls out to him with easy affection. Something tightens in his chest every time.

• One day, your child gets hurt. Not seriously — just a scraped knee, a tumble. But Damian’s reaction is instant and furious — with himself. He cradles them gently, whispering in Arabic, not realizing he’s shaking.

• He tries to push you away afterward. “They deserve someone better,” he says. “You both do.”

• But your child draws him a picture of “Dami, Mum, and me.” It’s crudely drawn — your child has given him a sword and a heart.

• He keeps the drawing folded in his wallet. No one knows it’s there.

• Damian doesn’t say “I love you” easily — but he shows it in quiet acts. Fixing your child’s broken toy with surgical precision. Standing watch outside their door during storms. Holding you in the quiet moments and asking, “Are you sure you want this? Me?”

• He eventually starts calling your child “my son” or “my daughter.” Quietly. Fiercely. As if daring the world to question it.

[fangirlforlife97]

ACOTAR's Rant That's Been Long Overdue!!!! BEWARE AND MY BAD, ITS A LONG ONE.

I won't lie it's been a long while since I've read the books and I still haven't read ACOSF yet (or if I even will?!) But over the years I've changed my opinion on alot of things concerning the books and fan pairings, etc. And lately I've had the urge to re look over ACOTAR content on tumblr and I finally decided to make this post. One I've been meaning to for awhile!

I want to start out by saying that I absolutely loved "A Court of Thorns and Roses" and Feylin, I finished that book in one night. I couldn't wait to read more of their story and learn more of this world SJM had created. Went into the series before it exploded on Tik - Tok or wherever so I went in without spoilers. Like I said I was looking forward to reading more but I also simultaneously had a sneaking suspicion that SJM was gonna try to give Feyre a new love interest and it did not sit well with me at all!! I kept saying or thinking things like "she better not give Feyre a new love interest" "she better not mess up Feylin", and that's exactly what she did!!

She "villainzed" or tried to anyways, Tamlin. I'm not gonna lie I got really irritated, and even though it wasn't Tam's fault how things played out I was kind of upset with him. I never hated him though and even though I hated the idea of a new love interest - with time I grew to greatly enjoy them. I read all of the books and considered them to be some of my favorite books, I even shipped Elriel hardcore while also shipping Elucien and also lowkey Nessian (before ACOSF). With time I fell into the delusion of Elriel, Nessian, Feysand and The Inner Circle, of the series in general. By the end of ACOWAR though even though I liked Feysand - I was getting kind of tired of reading about them and was looking forward to and wanting a different pairing to take center stage.

Subconsciously at times I think I did realize how toxic and awful Feysand and parts of the Inner Circle was etc, but it didn't register til later on. It's like I glossed over it cause I was sooo "entralled" with the series and character's. I was delulu about alot of things, about my liking for Feysand, my hardcore fangirling over Elriel, etc.

I was the biggest shipper of Elriel, I wanted them together so bad and the idea of them not getting together - I thought it would depress me out. Insane ik. Like before I became a hardcore Elriel shipper I shipped Elucien and was liking and hoping for their endgame until we started getting more Elriel content. Then my love for Elriel overshadowed that of Elucien. I was obsessing about anything relating to Elriel and couldn't wait for any possible clues or interactions in ACOSF pertaining to an Elriel endgame. There was even gonna be a pov from Azriel (he was my favorite batboy) and I was really excited. Then ACOSF came out and so did the spoilers. I hadn't gotten my hands on a book yet but the curiosity was too strong, so I went on tumblr to see what had been posted, etc.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . To say I was shocked was an understatement. It was the fastest death of a love pertaining to a fan pairing and character. I'm a fangirl, fangirling is what I do. I get overenthusiastic about tv shows and movies and bonds between characters. I was so disgusted by Azriel's pov, it was very unexpected. Like yes I imagine there would be some lustful thoughts or whatever but this is the first time we are getting his pov and you give us that! I had a certain idea of how I thought of Elain and Azriel and I loved it and the symbolism etc but what I read or found out totally ruined the idea I had of them. How I thought of them. Even the idea of liking them. Now I sincerely hope they don't end up together and she hopefully gets with Lucien and gets out of the Night court and away from the Inner Circle and Feysand. I've grown to ship and love Elucien the way I did Elriel before Az's pov.

I even really like and love the idea of Tamlin and Elain or Elain x Lucien x Elain. I feel like even though ACOTAR was supposedly a Beauty and The Beast retelling, Elain seems more like Belle to me, in look wise and gentleness anyways. And she would be so good with Tamlin and his healing even though I'm also a hardcore Elucien girly. I'd be so happy with either Elucien, Tamlain or Elucien x Tamlain x Tamlucien (whatever their ship name is!?)

In terms of Nessian. I always liked Nessian, I wasn't super hardcore about them like I was Elriel, Elucien, Feylin but I still really liked them or saw their potential too. But then I started hearing about things pertaining to Nessian and Nesta's character in ACOSF and I even heard things such as them ruining Nesta's character and bowing to Rhys, etc. Like maybe they ruined her character for the sake of Feysand or something?! And even though I already dislike what I'm hearing about Nessian, I still plan to read ACOSF even though it's gonna be a struggle re reading the series with how much I've grown to dislike Feysand, Rhysand, The Inner Circle, Elriel, etc. I almost don't want to re read the series with how annoyed I've grown about them, may take me some time but I will at some point in time. I'm in no rush though but I would be looking forward to re read ACOTAR.

Cassian is a shitty mate from what I've been hearing and that makes me start to dislike him too. Even though I have yet to completely make up my mind about Nessian til after I read ACOSF, Cassian is on thin ice. Not gonna lie though I kind of wish and hope Nessian aren't endgame because of what I've heard, even though I have yet to read ACOSF. I feel like Nesta deserves better and it might be an unpopular opinion but I think Nesta and Tamlin would be an absolutely freaking perfect endgame or pairing!!!!!!!??

Nesta and Tamlin both were given the same completely unfair, ridiculous, disgusting hate or treatment by the author and fandom. They both need healing, and could be the people who heal each other?! Even though Elain gives Belle vibes from her looks and gentleness, she doesn't have the most important Belle factor that Nesta does. NESTA LOVES BOOKS!! Could Nesta be the actual Belle to Tamlin's or ACOTAR Beauty and the Beast Retelling??!!!! Idk but I think Nesta and Tam would be way better than Cassian and Nesta.

I feel like the author has made her batboys too hornified and has sexualized her romantic pairings to the point she's ruining them!! Smut is fine in a book but when it's overdone and it's all a relationship is, it's not a pairing worth rooting for and it's kind of disgusting. I'd rather have a slow burn, cliche, romantic couple or pairing with few smutty scenes than a pairing that's too over sexualized and has multiple, constant, sex scenes. Other possible unpopular opinions:

- Tamlin is 100% more likable and better than Rhysand. Tamlin isn't without his flaws but the double standardization between Tamlin and Rhysand is incredibly unfair and unwarranted. Tamlin gets way too much hate for a character in a series filled with many other/worse flawed characters.

- Tamlin doesn't need a redemption arc, he needs a healing arc. He deserves a happy ending and love too!! I hope his court is replenished and flourishes.

- SJM character assassinated Feyre and others for the sake of Feysand, Rhysand and The Inner Circle.

- The ACOTAR series is filled with inconsistencies, double standards, etc.

- ACOTAR was the best book!!

- The Inner Circle, Batboys, Rhysand, and Feysand is highly overrated.

- Feyre deserves better.

- SJM should backpeddle on the smut and focus on building up of relationships and focusing on the romance. Stop using smut as an excuse for plot!

- Elain, Lucien, and Nesta need to get out of the Night Court and away from the Inner Circle and Feysand. (Feyre should too but that definitely won't happen!) They need their own story plots with story progression that doesn't involve the Night Court, Feysand, and The Inner Circle.

- Nesta and Tamlin should be endgame or an option at the very least. THE POTENTIAL!!!!! 😭❤️✊

- Rhysand is the villain of the series. It would be the greatest twist but also wouldn't be a twist because there's heavy evidence of him being a villian and manipulating those around him.

- Theory that Rhysand has been mind controlling Feyre the whole time!!

- There should be more focus on the other lands and courts.

- An Elucien novel should have nothing to do with the Night Court or Inner Circle or Feysand. I'm so tried of other ships and character's revolving heavily around Feysand, the Inner Circle, and the Night Court. Not everything is about them!!