#batman one shot

[hanasnx]

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

[justanoasisimagines]

First Impressions.

Summary; Bruce is distracted when he meets you at a Gala Pairing; Bruce Wayne x Female Reader WordCount; 552 Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Bruce navigated the room with practiced ease. He slipped into the room with precision. Bruce knew exactly what to say, and who to say it to. Bruce knew the attendees who he needed to work harder to obtain what he wanted.

Events like this Bruce often remained focused during a Gala such as these. Albeit, he often found himself bored. It was all about keeping up appearances.

However, Bruce was distracted tonight. A long flowing black gown glided across the floor. Eyes met momentarily as Bruce allowed a subtle smile to grace his lips. A mirror image as you brought a champagne flute to your crimson-painted lips.

Bruce didn't care for any other guests tonight. Except you. He wanted to make your acquaintance. Suddenly, Bruce was no longer engaged in the current conversation. He nodded his head, providing short answers. Desperate to end the conversation to make his introductions.

Bruce allowed the conversation five more minutes before he made his excuses. He took two champagne flutes from the waiter passing by.

You were alone, taking a breather from the constant barrage of questions and fake pleasantries. Unlike many you were attending because you cared about helping under privileged children. Unlike those who were heard to spread and hear gossip.

"You look like you could use this" Your eyes glanced up to be met with the hose for the evening. Blue eyes met yours. "Thank you, this place looks beautiful." You examined the room taking in the sight. His team had done an amazing job. Except Bruce couldn't admire he view because he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were breathtaking.

"I can't take the credit. I have an excellent team. They're the ones who made it possible." "Well then you have a great team, Mr. Wayne, you should be proud." "Thank you and please call me Bruce." Bruce angled himself towards you, interested in taking in every minuscule detail about you. That was only the beginning for Bruce, he wanted to know you inside and out. Bruce's nerves were on edge. He'd never been so compelled before. Never by another person. "So what brings you here tonight?" "I work alongside the charity. You're doing excellent work you have no idea how much of an impact the donations will have getting kids off the streets, giving them a chance at life." Bruce admired the way you spoke, The passion in your voice, the way your animated hands reiterated that. "I'm always willing to help any way I can. Gotham's youth are going to bring change. It's something I'm passionate about Bruce observed your smile widen. "I wish others here tonight held your sentiment. Most are here for the publicity and the idle gossip. Tonight's more about flaunting their wealth. They will not give a second thought to the children tonight." "Perhaps we could arrange dinner? Talk about the ways I could help. I'd love to get more involved. "Thank you, I don't know what to say." "Say yes. Let me take you out. Somewhere more intimate and less pretentious. We can talk about everything and make a plan. Bruce gave you a moment, hoping this could provide the opportunity to get to know you and create a different change rather than fighting Gotham's underbelly. "Sure I'll go to dinner with you."

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Alternative Universe Father-In-Law

Word Count: 2,700

Summary: Bruce enters a portal by mistake, leading him to bring back someone from another universe for a nice breakfest.

Pairing: Bruce x female!reader

Notes: I enojyed the comic and the animated movie where thomas meets bruce and i had an idea to write for it. also give alfred some well desserved flowers in being a dad. #alfreddesreveshisflowers

Warnings: dad that has come back with the milk

'I am telling you, Lois. Clark is stubborn, but he has a weak spot; mention the missing turkey of '08, and he will shut up and let you do whatever you want. "

'Wait! That really works?'

'Of course, it does. I have known Clark for 7 years, and I was the witness to that crime, so just mention it: he will fall back, trust me. Now I have to go. I am home.'

'Thanks, doll!'

'No worries, bye!'

Opening the big door, you enter with your phone nestled on top of your shoulder as you held the grocery bags. Stepping into the manor, you noticed the living room where Alfred was dusting behind the plasma screen.

'Mistress y/n. Welcome back.' The cheerful butler spoke as he walked to you, grabbing the grocery bags

'Thank you, Alfred. How was your day?' I asked him, striding next to him as we entered the spacious kitchen that held the marble island in the middle, placing the bags on top of it

'My day was good. The gardener came by and took care of the bush that Master Damian had 'shaped' with his swords yesterday. Although the poor man left with a terrible mind haze after finishing the Herculean task, managing to shape it back into a proper bush, and not some rhombus as Master Damian did.'

'Do remind me to tell Damian to leave the shrubs at peace. Maybe he can use those swords' skills to cut up meat when we have BBQs.'

'That seems like a great idea.'

The two hushed and resumed their conversation as Damian entered, his smile non-existent, his eyes scrunched into a tight-knit. You turn to him, saying with a slight chuckle

'Speak of the devil. What's up, Dami?'

The child walked between Alfred and you, crossing his arms and with a deep sigh, he articulated gradually

'Father has disappeared.'

You look at Alfred, knowing fully well that sometimes Bruce disappears to follow a clue, 'He will turn up by the end of the day. Bruce is like that, don't worry, sweetheart.'

'That is true, even before his vigilante lifestyle, Master Bruce was always the one to go with no notice but always turned up when his belly rumbled.'

With a giggle nestled in Alfred's sentence, Damian spoke again, shaking his head 'No. Father and I have been working on a portal and when I was grabbing a tool, he connected two wires, which opened a portal and pulled him in. By the time I came close, the portal closed.'

Looking at Alfred with a concerned look, you spoke what you two were thinking, 'And how come you two didn't tell us about that portal?'

Damian shook his head 'I-I have no clue, y/n.'

'Okay... and do you know where the portal leads to?'

'Between our world and other 456 parallel universes.'

fuck

Sighing deeply, you look at Damian 'So we have 1 in a 456 chance of finding him?'

'Yes. So are we going?' Damina asked, ready to jump into the adventure of the chance to jump from one universe to another

'No. We aren't. Damian, I can barely turn on the TV here without asking for help. And by no means will I manage to open a portal. We only have to wait and be next to the Bat computer to see if there are any anomalies. If an anomalie happens, I know someone who can help us.' I say, looking at the small assasin child

Damian looks up at you, his eyes asking questions, 'Who do you know, mother?'

'A friend, someone I knew way before you and Bruce. Even before I met Clark.'

You look at Alfred smiling 'He will show up, right Alfred?'

Alfred responds, faying his smile 'Of course, Misstress y/n.'

While the day dragged along in a snail-pace of time, you felt yourself doze off on the bat computer, a small trail of drool leaving a trail on the keyboard that was far too uncomfortable, but when you are fatigued, anything can be a pillow, and that stiff neck fo yours is a problem in the morning.

A shift in the air moved and circled, stirring you up from your slumber. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the luminous light that materialized in the Batcave, the wind pushing around the whirlpool of light as a tall, a dark shadow exited out. Staying up on numb legs, you felt the same pull you felt with Bruce, a warm safe space that drew you two always closer.

'Bruce?' you asked cautiously as you paused. The shadow you saw his features, the sharp hairstyle that was always in place, his tall and muscled build that was engraved in your mind. You knew that was him. Moving to him, you felt a wave of relief wash over you but another one followed, disappointment.

'Where were you?! We were worried sick about your stupid ass! How could you not tell me that you were making a goddamn portal in the house, Bruce!' you directed your words at him, the light of the rustled and shined over his taller-than-usual figure but nonetheless, you continued, 'And don't think for a fact you went to another universe that means I will get any sympathy from me. You are sleeping on the couch for the next 3 weeks.'

As the portal began to size down the light shimmered down you step back letting yourself catch a breath, sure you were mad but you were also glad that he was alive.

With the portal gone, the shadow started to dissipate bringing back the man you loved. You waited, a small smile on your face as you heard him speak a few shades deeper than what you know 'You were right. She is a firecracker.' Stepping back few more steps at the unfamiliar tone you watched a shape move behind him tall as him, same as him, did Bruce duplicate?

Leaning on the Bat computer, ready to press the button on the keyboard to call the remainder of the Bat Family you watched carefully as one moved closer to you, revealing... Bruce, your Bruce with a small smile.

'Sorry I was gone, dalrin.''

'Bruce, what is going on?'

'I met someone along the way.' Bruce steps for you to see the man that you talked to, with one confident step the man steps to you, his features coming to light, grey hair styled in a way that not even the wind could move one strand, his blue eyes decorated with wrinkles and his smile eerily identical to Bruce's looking at them side by side it struck you

'Love, this is my father, Thomas Wayne. In the universe I stumbled upon was a universe where my father was the Batman, and I was shot that night.'

Thomas smiled warmly at you, offering a hand to shake 'It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. L/n. Bruce has told me a great deal about you.' Shaking his strong hand, you think

What a great first impression. First, I thought he was Bruce and second I gave him an earful. What a great first impression.

'It is great to meet you, Dr. Wayne. I apologize for my actions beforehand, I thought you were Bruce and wel-'

'No worries about that. It is great to know that my son has someone who keeps him in check.' He spoke as you awkwardly laughed it off.

Bruce stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist 'Let's try this one more time. Father, this is Y/n, she is the love of my life, and the woman I wish to marry and spend the rest of my life.'

It's your time to be shocked yet again. You and Bruce never talked about it, only joking about being called Mrs.Wayne but he never communicated his desire to get married. Thomas glimpsed at the two of you, Bruce stood proudly with you while you tried your best to conceal your red cheeks and shocked eyes at his claims 'You better treat her right, son.' Thomas spoke

'He does, Dr. Wayne.'

You uttered, looking at the alternative universe father-in-law as Bruce examined your expression and in that moment, he felt himself fall in love yet again with you.

'How about we grab a bite? I am sure that Dr. Wayne would appreciate a good breakfast.'

Thomas nodded his head in agreement, beaming 'I'd love that, but y/n, no need for formalities. Call me Thomas. I haven't been a doctor in decades.'

'Sure. Thomas.'

Grabbing Bruce's hand you three exit the Batcave and head to the living room.

Strolling into the living room, you smelt Alfred's mouthwatering breakfast, scented the familiar maple syrup, and took notice of the sizzling bacon.

'I am bringing our guests.' You announced and Alfred cracked a smile as he watched you bring Bruce into the dining room where Damian was already seated. Alfred placed the lofty breakfast on the table. Pivoted to Bruce switching into scolding mode 'Now, young Master, I think we could have a great and lenghty chat about what goes in the Batcave.'

As Bruce stood behind you, Thomas' voice boomed into the ear of the butler 'I agree, Pennyworth. He surely needs that talk."

Alfred froze when he heard that voice. His eyes caught onto Thomas and he felt and thought that he was dead, joining the afterlife as there was no way that the deceased Thomas Wayne was standing before him.

'Master Wayne?' Alfred weaved quietly towards the man, and Thomas smiled 'Hello, old friend.'

He spoke, grabbing the longtime friend into a bone-crushing hug. Smiling at the interaction, Damian stood from his seat, walking towards his alternative universe grandfather 'So by my conclusion…you are my grandfather?'

Thomas stepped and crouched down to his eye level, smiling 'Yes, but I am. From another world.'

'I figured as much.'

Thomas looked at Damian and Bruce, his gaze shifting from one to another 'The resemblance is uncanny. He is your and y/n's copy.'

You felt yourself freeze as you interrupted him 'Thomas, he isn't mine. I--i mean he is my son but he didn't come from my stomach. Damian's mother is a leader of a group of assassins.'

Thomas stood up, watching his son 'You cheated, son?'

Bruce shook his head 'Father, no. Damian's mother and I met before me and y/n. Damian's mother was a --'

'She is a cold-hearted assassin who doesn't care about me or my well-being.' Damian cut in, saying what he considered his mother.

Thomas looks to the side, a bit shy about this situation, thanks Bruce.

Alfred coughs dryly, breaking the tension 'Let us all sit for a nice breakfast.'

Sitting next to Bruce you saw his smile, his true smile. The one reserved for you, comfort moments you both encountered and made, a smile that told you he felt at peace.

As everyone ate you desired to ask questions your father-in-law 'So Thomas, what do you think about Bruce being this world's Batman?'

Thomas looks at you a slight smile 'I always believed in the multiverse, and I alwats hoped that in one of them my son is alive and living his life. Being Batman, I suppose, is a part of the Wayne lineage, but what I mostly hold important in my heart is that my son is happy.' And he smiles bigger. 'And I can see that he truly is.’

Blushing at Thomas' words you looked at Bruce, your eyes twinkling with love while his blue irises showered you in silent praise 'I definitely am.'

Damian whispers to Thomas 'Thanks a lot. Now they will make-out in front of us.' Thomas laughs, whispering in the exact low tone 'That's good. It's better than to fight, besides, Martha adn I were the same. Always in love, never apart.'

Bruce turns to Damian saying slyly, 'You are aware that you are across the table, and not 40 meters away, Damian. We can still hear you.'

Damian rolls his eyes, playfully but nonetheless taking his grandfather's words to heart. It is definitely better for them to be in love and not fight. 'I have to feed Bat-Cow. Y/n, will you help me? I am too short to get the ball of hay.'

Smiling you stand up, leaving with Damian. Alfred, Thomas, and Bruce stayed at the table.

'Bat-Cow?' Thomas asked, perplexed, while his hands tingled

'No worries, Master Wayne. Thankfully, it is not a hybrid of a cow and bat; it is just a plain cow with an artistic name.' Alfred spoke

'Father, stay.' Bruce blurred out, declaring the thing he wished he would receive an optimistic answer to

'Bruce... I can't. If I stay long enough, my universe will disappear. Besides, if I did.... I don't want you to grieve all over again.'

'Believe me, Master Wayne...Master Bruce still grieves to this day.'

Thomas stands up from his seat, hugging his son 'I love you, Bruce. There is no need to grieve anymore. It won't change anything. You have no idea how much it brings me happiness to see you happy with Alfred, your son, and Y/n.’ Thomas didn't let Bruce stand up, not to see the small pixel-like specs encircling Thomas' legs. Alfred noticed the scene but stayed silent.

'When I see you looking at your son and Y/n I see myself and my life I had before that night. And it makes me so happy to see it. I know that it can be better. You make me proud every day, and will continue to do so."

The pixels reached Bruce's eyesight, standing up to look at hIs father, Bruce weakly said 'Stay...please.'

'It's not me to decide but I am happy I had a nice meal with your family.'

Kissing his forehead, Thomas dissipated back into his universe. Bruce looks at Alfred a small tears escaping his eye. The two men stand up, hugging each other, leaning on this moment. Bruce wanted to talk to his father more to make up for the lost and stolen time. It was time that he wanted nothing more than to be a son again. Alfred wanted to talk more to Thomas about Bruce. To tell him how he has matured, how he traveled the world and yet came back home, in Gotham, to make the city shine brighter than ever. To tell him how Bruce keeps an engagement ring for y/n ever since she moved into the manor but is not sure when to pop the question.

Both Bruce and Alfred wanted to tell him about their path of trying to grasp at straws to find justice in this forsaken town.

Pulling away from the hug Alfred spoke, 'As you can see, your father is proud at you. And I believe that goes for every Thomas Wayne in any alternative universe.'

Bruce looked at Alfred, nodding in confirmation 'I do believe that but I also am proud of the father that raised me as well. The one standing in front of me.'

Alfred's eyes twinkled in appreciation no words needed to be spoken at that response, there simply weren't those words that could how Alfred felt in this moment.

Steps echo closer and closer as you come back, with no sight of Thomas.

'Is he gone?' You ask, seeing Bruce walk to you, a smile on his face.

Bruce nods, hugging you, Feeling a bit sad at not being able to say goodbye to your father-in-law you ask Bruce 'How are you feeling?'

Pulling away Bruce chuckles 'Good. This moment made me realize some things. About my family.'

Bruce understood. The reason he went into that portal and brought his father here, it was a shifting moment for him, a moment to bring him in a more grateful state, he knew how lucky he was to have Alfred as his father figure, his son, and you, possibly his future fiancee.

That is until he pops the question.

Hope you enjoyed it!

[chiaraswritings]

The Pink Pool

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon. Also, putting dye and bubble bath in a pool sounds like a bad idea in real life and you probably should not do it. Indulge in this fictional work instead.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes. 18+.

Word Count: 812 words.

Summary: A short Bruce Wayne x gender neutral!reader fluff, a birthday present to remember, and a pink pool with bubbles. 

Author’s Note: It is not my birthday yet, nor would I like a vacation home for a present in real life, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this piece. I’m going to try to publish many more summer stories in the near future. I hope you enjoy. 

Listen on Spotify while you read...

It was honestly a ridiculous idea. Childish. Unrealistic. But I’d been dreaming of this opportunity my entire life.

The boxes were all unpacked, and we had finished constructing the new bed frame. New white sheets were fitted over the new mattress, new plates had been placed carefully in the new cabinets, the new house was completely ready for new adventures and new love. 

He had bought this new vacation home for my birthday and taken the next two weeks off work, just to spend it with me in the new villa. If I recall his exact words, he had given me the green light to “do whatever you want with the place, it’s yours now,” as he had carried me across the threshold. It really was an incredible home, a luxurious four bedrooms and three bathrooms, rose vines wrapping around the arches, white flowers decorating the shrubbery. Though it was nothing compared to Wayne Manor, I had been just a tad bit hesitant to accept the overwhelming birthday present, considering we had only been together for a few months. And yet…well, even if we didn’t last, at least I had gotten the glorious opportunity to live in such a fairytale house for a little while.

As I made my way to the French doors that opened to the spacious backyard, I smiled at the recent memory of him revealing my birthday surprise and the shock I had felt.

“You want to spend how many weeks here?”

“Just two. You don’t want to?”

“I do, but… come on, Bruce, work will never let me have the days off. Not so soon.”

“Quit your job.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

I will never forget the smile he gave me with his reply. 

“Maybe I am being ridiculous, but it feels too good to stop.” 

I had not resigned after all, but he had called my workplace, much to my embarrassment. Either way, I was on an unexpected vacation for my birthday, and life couldn’t be better. Bruce had to go back to the office for a few hours to wrap up some unfinished work, but then he would be back, ready to kick off the next two weeks of paradise he had promised me. I was anxiously looking forward to tonight, to spending our first night here together in that lavish bed. But first, I had something else on my mind.

Stepping out into the fading light of dusk, I drummed my fingers against the bottle I was holding. My boyfriend’s go-ahead to do whatever I wanted with the place was fulfilling a dream I had been entertaining since I was thirteen years old. Of course, that was years and years ago, but the thought had always stayed in the back of my mind every time I went swimming in a pool. I just had never had the chance to do it.

My freshly pedicured feet strode towards the rectangular pool, the shimmering blue water accentuated by underwater lights. I picked up the bucket that lay beside the edge of the pool, dipping it into the water to collect the amount I needed, my mind calculating the best way to carry out my plan. Pouring some of the bottle’s product into the bucket, I began to mix the liquid with the pool water. Once combined, I stood, my eyes searching for the location of the jets inside the pool. Locating one, I picked up the bucket and dumped the contents into the pool over the jet. 

… 

An hour had passed since sunset. I had heard the car door slam shut, as well as his dress shoes making their way to where I was relaxing in the pool. My freshly dyed pink pool with bubbly foam floating on portions of the surface. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the surprise on his face. Raising myself out of the pool, brushing the bubbles off of my swimwear, I wrapped my foamy arms around his neck, pressing myself against him, completely soaking the front of his suit. “Hey, missed you.” 

He was chuckling and shaking his head at me. “I missed you too… and I also missed the memo about a pink bubble bath in our pool. I didn’t really wear the right outfit to this party.” 

I laughed, kissing him before pulling away. “Then go change, I’ll be here.” 

“I know you will,” he winked, before disappearing into the house again. I stepped back into the foamy water, relaxing in the water that lapped against my shoulders and splashed gently on my neck. 

When he returned, appropriately dressed in his own swimming attire, I nearly pulled him headfirst into the pool in my excitement. Finally with my lover, in the pool of my teenage dreams, I was happier than I had been in a long time. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. The kiss we then shared was incredibly blissful, just like I knew this night would be.

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[devilfic]

Don’t know if you are taking requests but maybe battinson and reader doing their mbti test, and reader getting a villain personality.

lmfao

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: implied sexual content but no body parts mentioned. words: 894.

a/n: gratuitous amount of italics here. not sorry. implied sub!bruce but that's not what this is about. also, anon, guess who ELSE has a villain personality type according to google :)

who's gonna tell him

You probably know he’s not really listening. With the wrench between his teeth, fingers straining to reach into the void of his engine and find where the Batmobile had gone unresponsive, he’s only half present. Maybe a third at best. Still, he enunciates through the metal, already forgetting what you'd called him, “INT...C? What does that mean?”

“I-N-T-J. You’re the architect. It means you’re introverted, intuitive, thinking, and judging. You’re good at problem solving and detective work, of course. But you struggle emotionally and are prone to being… ‘socially clueless’.” From your spot in the driver’s seat, Bruce makes a show of leaning around the propped up hood just to be clear on how much he disapproves. He even removes the wrench with his oil-slick hand so he can frown properly. “I didn’t write this, babe. Don’t look at me.”

“You’re reading it to me.”

“I just wanted to know if we’d be compatible!”

He huffs, having found what ever kink in the machine he was looking for and focusing on that instead. He disappears behind the hood but his voice carries through the terminus loud and clear, “Well, are we?”

You decide to do some research.

Somewhere between Bruce triumphing over the engine and coming around to the window to gloat, he catches you staring incredulously at your phone.

“What's the verdict? Are we sworn enemies?” Your eyes dart up to Bruce’s and the longer you stare at him, picking him apart in silence, the more his smile begins to fade. For a second, he starts to think you actually might be sworn enemies. For a millisecond, he starts to care.

"I took the test." You declare, voice freakishly even. Bruce isn't smiling anymore.

"And?"

"I got ENTJ."

"And?"

"We're compatible, sure, whatever," Bruce squints, confused, because you'd been more excited to know the answer to that than he was, "but then I fell down this rabbit hole—I wanted to see who we shared personalities with—and then I found this article. Guess what we are?"

You turn your phone to him. You've pulled up a web result for “Which MBTI personality types are villains?”. In the blurb at the very top, he reads INTJ. Then he looks over at you, your eyes wide and suspicious, and he’d ask you to stop giving him that look if it wasn’t for the way your mouth starts to curl up.

You’re not suspicious. You’re impish. “We’re both villains.”

Sure enough, the other most common villain personality type is ENTJ.

Bruce thinks it’s silly, a little less silly than when you’d done his natal chart (but he’d sat and asked questions all the same, a little too invested in the bits about his childhood karma) because the quiz at least knew something about him, but silly nonetheless.

But you’re also enjoying it enough that he leans into it, feels his own lips curling up too. He folds his arms on the door and leans inside the car, casting a dark shadow over you, "I have enough bad press as it is."

You giggle. You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze, "I don't know. I think you'd be pretty sexy as a villain."

Bruce watches you through hooded eyelids and considers, for a moment, that maybe you're a little too into this. He treads the waters, wondering whether you'll show your hand. He digs through his memory for what you'd called him, the other thing that had actually stuck, “The architect and…”

“The commander.” You finish, jutting your chin up with pride.

“Sounds about right.”

“I'll be the one in control, and you'll be my pretty little mastermind making everything happen.”

“Sounds sort of right.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’? You’re a slave to my every whim.”

“Oh, I'm your slave now?" Bruce drops an octave with intention, delighting in your fingernails biting into his muscles. "Since when?"

Your eyes fucking twinkle. You look so excited that he fleetingly wonders if he should keep an eye on you. And he imagines you’d enjoy having him bested, kneeling at your feet as you unmask him and lean in and grin and declare, victorious- “Haven’t you always been?”

Your breath on his lips hasn’t even cooled before he’s leaning into the car and craning your mouth up to meet his, a hand at your jaw and the other keeping him propped through the window.

He imagines too, just for fun, leaning into a getaway car to celebrate a job well done, before coming around the side to jet off into the sunset. A real Bonnie and Clyde.

He feels you tugging on his shoulders and leaning back into the driver’s seat, compelling him to follow. You almost drag him fully through the window (a feat that’s only possible because he’s basically putty in your hands right now), and he grips the center console to steady himself before he falls in and crushes you, “The car’s been fixed all of two minutes and you wanna defile it already?” Bruce accuses, not actually caring in the slightest.

You’re awful. Your eyes still twinkle beneath the innocent flutter of your eyelashes, clearly still on villains and evil plans and whatever images you’d conjured up in your brain after calling him your slave. What ever happened to not mixing business with pleasure? “Come on, Batman. Don't be such a prude."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat

[jesuispatrick]

more than words can say - Batman x reader

Summary: your a valuable member of the league and someone accuses you of being a traitor.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I have decide to go in a complete different direction and write for batman. I will also be writing for other DC characters too such as night wing. I have no clue if there is still a community for these fanfics so please let me know if you like it :)

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As a member of the Justice League, I felt an immense sense of pride and accomplishment. I had spent years training to perfect my powers and become an integral part of the team. My unique abilities allowed me to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air, giving me a versatility that was unmatched by most.

I had first discovered my powers as a child, and with the help of my parents, who were also gifted with extraordinary abilities, I learned to control them. As I grew older, I honed my skills through rigorous training and countless battles against evildoers who threatened the safety of innocent people.

My reputation as a formidable superhero eventually caught the attention of the Justice League, and they extended an invitation for me to join their ranks. It was a dream come true, and I was determined to prove myself as a valuable member of the team.

I took a seat at the long table in the conference room of the Watchtower, the Justice League's orbital headquarters. The room was spacious and dimly lit, with large windows that offered a stunning view of the Earth below. The table was made of sleek, black marble and was surrounded by high-tech chairs that seemed to conform to the body of whoever sat in them.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense with worry. His usually warm smile was replaced with a grave expression, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the faces of each member of the League with a sense of urgency.

The Watchtower hummed with the sound of the powerful engines that kept it aloft, and the only other noise in the room was the soft beeping of the high-tech equipment that surrounded us. The sense of gravity and importance was palpable in the air as Superman began to speak.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his expression serious. ‘We've discovered a traitor among us," he said, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "Someone on the inside has been leaking information to our enemies. We need to find out who it is before they do more damage."

A feeling of unease crept over me as I listened to Superman lay out the details of the mission. Green Lantern sat across from me, his cold stare adding to the tension in the room. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring into me. I was grateful for the opportunity to contribute to the mission, but the accusation that someone among us was a traitor left me on edge. The sudden tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel Hal’s mistrust directed towards me.

"As the meeting came to an end, Hal wasted no time in confronting me. "You're the one we should be watching," he said, his voice dripping with suspicion. "I don't trust you."

Hal’s words stung, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had always thought we were on the same team, fighting for the greater good. The idea that he saw me as a threat or a traitor was beyond comprehension.

"I can't believe you're accusing me of this," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I've dedicated my life to this cause, just like you."

But Green Lantern remained resolute, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at me. "You've always been a wildcard, with those elemental powers of yours. Who's to say you're not using them for your own gain?"

Before I could even begin to respond, Hal launched himself at me with a powerful construct of energy. My heart pounded as Green Lantern's fists crackled with green energy and he charged towards me. I braced myself, summoning my powers to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air. We clashed, our powers colliding in a spectacular display of energy.

I sent a blast of water towards Lantern, but he deflected it with a shield of energy. He countered with a barrage of green energy beams, which I dodged by shifting the earth beneath my feet. The ground rumbled as I caused a fissure to open up between us, and Lantern jumped back to avoid falling in.

We circled each other, each looking for an opening to strike. I summoned a gust of wind to try and throw him off balance, but he countered with a construct of energy that knocked me off my feet. I tumbled backwards, but quickly regained my footing.

Hal charged at me again, this time with a construct of energy that resembled a giant fist. I summoned a wall of earth to block it, but the force of the impact sent me flying backwards. I landed hard on the ground, feeling the wind knocked out of me.

I struggled to get back up, but Green Lantern was on me in an instant. He grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off the ground, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think you can take me down?" he snarled.

With a surge of willpower, I summoned a fierce blaze of fire around my body, causing Green Lantern to release me in surprise. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to send a barrage of rocks hurtling towards him, however, before the lantern could deliver another blow to me Batman was the first to reach my side, shielding me from Green Lantern's attack.  

"Back off, Lantern," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "We're all on the same team here."

Lantern hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between me and Batman. I could see the doubt and confusion in his expression as he weighed his options. The tension in the room was thick and heavy, and everyone watched in anticipation, waiting for the next move.

Suddenly, a burst of green energy erupted from Green Lantern's ring, catching Batman off guard. The Dark Knight was sent flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a loud thud. I winced as I saw him hit the wall and immediately tried to run to his side, but Green Lantern blocked my path. "You're not going anywhere," he snarled, his ring glowing with a dangerous intensity.

But before he could make another move, a bolt of lightning struck him, sending him staggering backwards. The Flash appeared beside me, his hand crackling with electricity. He stood in front of me, ready to protect me from any further attacks.

"You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," he said, his voice laced with determination.

With Hal momentarily stunned, I saw my chance to strike. I called upon the elements once more, sending a blast of fire towards him. The flames engulfed him, forcing him to the ground.

As he struggled to get back up, Wonder Woman lassoed him with her golden lasso, restraining him. He began to struggle against the bonds. "Wait...stop!" he yelled. "I didn't mean to betray the team. It wasn't my choice."

The members exchanged a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?" Superman demanded.

Green Lantern took a deep breath, his eyes focusing on the heroes around him. "I was brainwashed," he explained. "Our enemies, they...they got to me. They made me do it."

The room was silent as everyone processed this information. Batman stepped forward, his expression hard. "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

Hal hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously between the heroes. "I don't know. They wore masks, and their voices were distorted. They...they said they had leverage over me, that they could hurt my family."

Superman placed a hand on Green Lantern's shoulder. "We'll help you, Hal,” he said, "We'll find out who did this to you and put a stop to it."

The rest of the Justice League nodded in agreement, their expressions determined. As they led Hal away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. While the revelation was shocking, it was a relief to know that one of our own hadn't turned against us willingly.

I stood up and winced when I tried to put pressure on my right leg. "Let's get you to the medic bay," Batman said, his voice calm but urgent. "You may have a sprain or a fracture. We need to make sure you're okay." 

Batman guided you through the hallways of the Watchtower, his grip firm but gentle. You leaned into him for support, grateful for his strength. As you limped along, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in his presence.

Arriving at the med bay, Batman helped me onto one of the beds and fetched a medical kit. As Batman continued to patch up my injuries in the med bay, he paused for a moment and looked into my eyes. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice serious. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I just didn't know how."

I looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"I care about you," he said, his voice low and intense. "More than I should. You have a way of getting under my skin, and I can't help but want to protect you at all costs."

My heart skipped a beat at his confession, realising the depth of his feelings for me. "Bats," I said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, his eyes fixed on mine. "Just know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Looking into his eyes through his mask, I leaned in and kissed him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled be so I was flushed against his hard suit. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer if that was possible. 

Suddenly Bruce stopped and his head whipped up and he noticed a blur of red and yellow out of the corner of his eye. "Flash, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone slightly annoyed.

I turned my head around and saw Flash stumble to a stop, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Whoa, sorry Bats," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything important."

I blushed, feeling embarrassed that we had been caught in a vulnerable moment. Batman turned to me, his expression softening. "It's all right," he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "We can continue this later."

Flash's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ooh, is there something going on between you two?" he teased, winking at me.

Batman shot him a stern look. "That's none of your business, Flash," he said firmly. "Now, do you have a reason for being here or are you just here to make bad jokes?"

Flash sobered up quickly, remembering the reason for his visit. "Right, sorry. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after the fight." 

Batman nodded in acknowledgement. "We're both fine," he said, gesturing to me. "Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

Flash grinned. "That's good to hear. Well, I'll leave you two to it. Catch you later, Bats."

After Flash left, Batman turned back to me and gave me a small smile. "Where were we?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spreading through my body at his words. "Right here," I replied, leaning in for another kiss.

As we kissed, I could feel the strength of his love for me in every touch, in every movement. It was as if we were the only two people in the world, completely focused on each other.

Eventually, we pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily. Batman rested his forehead against mine and looked deep into my eyes. "I meant what I said earlier," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. You mean everything to me."

I smiled, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "And you mean everything to me," I replied, reaching up to touch his masked face. "I love you, Bruce."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling underneath the mask. "I love you too," he said, his voice full of emotion. "More than words can say."

We stood there, lost in each other's gaze, feeling as if we were the only two people in the world. For that moment, nothing else mattered but our love for each other.

[magmagicstyle]

MY FRIEND

Conner in his sad boy hours, reflects, and tries to confess his feelings for Tim... and then... he fails without even trying... so... more sad boy hours.

(I don't know how to write summaries)

Hahaha, so... this was a Patreon early and I was supposed to post it two weeks ago but I got mixed up in some family things and then I got sick so... Sorry about that. BUT! Here it is, hope you like it and if you want to, leave kudos and comments and don't hate me too much. Thanks <3 Also, I don't know if I should leave it here or write a second part so... we will see, haha

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city of Metropolis, the light almost comforting in its soft gleam against the buildings before him. Conner Kent, Kon-El, also known as the capped hero Superboy, stood atop a tall skyscraper, his gaze fixed on the bustling streets below, watching the people and cars pass by. It had been a long day of crime-fighting, but his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of a different kind. 

His thoughts, without being able to stop, to go back to focus on the people of his city and its people, turned to Tim Drake, Timothy, aka Red Robin. Tim was his friend, partner, and someone who had unknowingly, inevitably, stolen his heart. It was unexpected, unable to help himself or prevent the disaster it would cause in his mind, Conner was assaulted by the feeling of love that pounded in his chest and made him feel breathless every time he thought of Tim. Sure, Conner had always been drawn to Tim’s intelligence, quick thinking, and his unwavering dedication to justice. But lately, his feelings had evolved without his permission, turning into something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore no matter how much he wanted to push it away. 

Conner remembered the countless nights he had spent with Tim, the many missions and the days they lived together in the tower of San Francisco. His mind would go and without his permission, he remembered their closeness, the times they cared for each other when one of them was hurt, were their jokes and hugs when they fell asleep next to each other after a team night in the tower. They had an undeniable connection, a bond forged through shared experiences and a mutual understanding of the dangers they faced. They had become more than friends: they were a team, an unstoppable force fighting for a common cause.

But, because of this, because of the damn connection he had with Tim, he was the friend that went with his Robin when he needed him. When Tim wanted to talk about his personal life, when he wanted to brag about his boyfriend when he wanted to ask for some relationship advice, Tim would go to Conner… and well, Conner's heart ached every time he had to act like the cool friend who was willing to listen to whatever Tim had to say. It hurt so much when he saw Tim with someone else, someone who wasn't him. And of course, it was no secret that Tim had been dating Bernard, a classmate. So, Conner would force a smile and offer him support, masking the inner turmoil and pain that threatened to consume him. It was every time Tim would say how wonderful Bernard was that Conner couldn't help but wonder if he had missed his chance and if his feelings for Tim would forever go unrequited.

He remembered the moments they had spent alone, their stolen moments amidst the chaos, small moments of peace and complicity in the midst of their busy lives. Whether it was training in the San Francisco tower or helping him in his latest investigation, there was an undeniable spark between them. Everyone could tell! And well... Conner treasured those stolen glances, the shared smiles that hinted at something more. It felt like the two of them had a secret between them, a secret so precious that no one else could know what it.

As he thought about his friendship with the third Robin, Conner couldn't help but focus on Tim's heartbeat. Listening to his heartbeat, knowing that it was now beating for someone else, sent a pang of jealousy coursing through Conner's veins. He understood that he couldn't blame Tim for moving on with his life and finding happiness with someone who was willing to share glances with him, willing to be a break from the life they led, but that didn't make the ache in his heart any less painful. Conner could have confessed, could have said what he thought of Tim, how he truly felt about the boy he called “his best friend,” but he didn't. Like a coward, he had let his fear of rejection and the uncertainty of his circumstances hold him back, and now he was left with only regret.

Still, a part of Conner longed to tell Tim how he felt, to reveal the depths of his affection and longing. There was a deluded, innocent part of his heart that longed to fly to Tim's side, to hug him, kiss him, and tell him how much he loved him. But the fear of losing their friendship, of complicating the delicate balance they had reached, held him back. He refused to destroy Tim's happiness, so he kept silent, enjoying their moments together and hiding his longings, trying to concentrate on the friendship they shared.

But as he stood there, overlooking the city he had sworn to protect, feeling so far away but so close to Tim, feeling that unique connection he shared with the other hero, Conner made himself a silent promise. He wasn't going to continue being a coward, he was going to put fear aside, and he wasn't going to let it rule his heart any longer. He was terrified, he wasn't going to try to fool himself and tell himself he wasn't afraid, but then again, Conner deserved to be happy too, he wanted to be happy too.... Even if it meant risking their friendship, risking the normalcy they had grown accustomed to.

Conner took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, trying to remain calm. After a few seconds in which he decided he was calm enough, Conner dropped from the roof and flew away from the lights of Metropolis and flew in the direction of Tim, following his beloved's heartbeat like the North Star. With every meter she advanced, her determination grew stronger, she was going to do it... she was going to confess. Conner still wasn't sure how, but one way or another, he was going to see his way to express his feelings to Tim, to let him know that while he adored being considered his friend, his heart wept with love every time he thought of him. 

As he flew through the silent sky, listening to the noise of the city in the distance, Conner's thoughts were consumed by all the memories he had of the times he had spent together with Tim. The laughter, the late-night conversations, the moments of vulnerability...all of it painted a vivid picture of the bond they shared. It was undeniable and Conner had been a fool not to notice before another boy came along and tried to sneak into the rodeo to try and steal Tim's heart. Regardless, Conner wasn't about to let any more moments and opportunities slip through his fingers, he refused to let their unspoken affection fade into the shadows.

Arriving outside Tim's penthouse at Gotham, Conner sought solace in the slightly familiar surroundings. Having been invited in earlier, and having spent time with Tim inside the place he now observed from the outside, all of this was helping him to feel a certain calm and comfort. He found himself floating outside the living room, observing the place that was dimly lit by a floor lamp. This is the place where they had spent countless hours talking about everything and nothing, hours where he had tried to help Tim with some case, the space where they had been able to have deep conversations and where they had shared secrets. It was there that he felt closest to Tim, their connection not only amplified by the love they had for their work helping people but also by different things they had noticed they shared with each other.

There, floating in mid-air, surrounded by the echoes that appeared in his mind due to the memories and (slightly overwhelmed) by the noise of the city, Conner turned to the screen that currently functioned as the only physical obstacle he had to achieve his goal. His reflection against the slightly darkened glass was staring back at him. Tim had said it was for privacy.... Though Conner couldn't fathom what more privacy he could ask for, considering he lived on the top floor of one of Gotham's tallest buildings. His face looked like a mask of determination and longing. Conner was not delusional, and although he hadn't been “alive” that long, he wasn't so naive to think that as soon as he confessed his feelings, Tim would say he loved him too and they would fly off into the sunset. No, Conner was aware that if he confessed his feelings, the road to the new normal, or the road to maintaining his friendship with Tim, was going to be filled with uncertainty and a bit of insecurity. But, either way, he was ready to give her face and do whatever work was necessary. 

“Tim,” Conner whispered, practicing again the words he had been thinking all along as he flew to his destination. “I can't keep hiding my feelings any longer. I need to tell you the truth, even if it means risking everything.” Her voice was full of hope and trepidation, her hands trembled slightly and surprisingly she felt as if she was sweating due to nerves. 

Conner knew he could no longer live in the shadows, regardless of the outcome, he had to say what he felt. Even if he was dying of fear, he had to be true to himself, to his feelings and try to take a leap of faith. After all, it was better to have loved and lost than to live a lifetime of regret.

Conner paused for a few seconds, floating gently in front of the imposing screens of Tim's penthouse, and the cold Gotham air did nothing to calm the storm he felt in his chest. His heart was pounding harder than in the middle of a fight, and his normally steady palms were clammy. God, sweating was so weird. He was Superboy, THE SUPERBOY, what was he doing sweating in front of the apartment of the guy he liked, where had all his confidence gone? No, he wasn't going to put this off any longer, Conner took a deep breath and started to move closer to the apartment partition. 

Just as he was about to move closer to the sliding door to open it and seek out Tim for the much-needed conversation Conner wanted to have, he noticed Tim coming out of the kitchen and walking through the living room. The image of Tim was so sudden, so startling that Conner had to pause for a second to breathe. Tim looked ethereal, his smooth, comfortable appearance, clearly softened by the security provided by his home, only shone brighter as he was framed by the glare of the city lights. The hero of Gotham stood near the bulkhead, a cup in his hands, looking out, and though his posture was relaxed, his eyes held a subtle darkness... It was as if the weight of the world rested on Tim's shoulders. Conner pursed his lips at the sight of him. Tim always seemed to be planning his next three steps in advance, but to Conner it seemed...

Just perfect.

He swallowed hard, his resolve wavering for the umpteenth time that night. Why had he come? The words he'd rehearsed a dozen times on the way here were now tangled in his throat. What if he screwed up? What if he didn't know how to express his feelings and ended up making a fool of himself? What if Tim laughed at him? No. Tim would never do that... His best friend was very sweet when he wanted to be and if he didn't love him back, he would possibly apologize to Conner and try to reject him in the nicest way possible. 

But then Tim turned his beautiful blue eyes, piercing as ice, fixed on Conner as if he had sensed him even before he landed.

“Conner,” Tim said, his tone warm despite his teasing expression.

Conner did his best to flash a playful and somewhat flirtatious smile, a classic Superboy grin. Though, deep down, he wasn't sure it was convincing. “Fuck, you're good.”

Tim opened the sliding door, letting him in, and Conner started to move towards the screen, trying to ignore how his pulse was racing at being so close to Tim.

“You're supposed to call before you come,” Tim said, his voice dry but amused. It was clear Tim wasn't mad at him. Conner knew his friend too well to misinterpret the soft playful tone that was in his voice. It was very subtle, almost imperceptible to other people, but Conner was better than that. 

“And miss that look on your face when I catch you off guard? No way,” Conner joked, forcing his usual self-confidence. He needed it to keep his hands from shaking, to stop the sweat from making its presence known on his skin.

Tim rolled his eyes, a smile betraying his affection. “What brings you here?” he glanced at the clock, ‘midnight?’ he finished his question with a raised eyebrow as he looked back at Conner.

That was the question, wasn't it? Conner hesitated and ran a hand over the back of his neck. Why did Tim always make him feel so exposed...so vulnerable? He could take on alien armies without breaking a sweat, fight villains and madmen every day and not feel afraid, but with one look from Tim, with one look from those blue eyes that showed so much affection deep down inside, he felt like a child groping awkwardly for the hand of his first crush.

“I...” Conner started, then stopped, feeling suddenly mute, the weight of his words pressing down on his chest almost painfully. He moved a little closer, searching Tim's face for some sign of what he might say if he knew - really knew - how Conner felt. Anything. He just wanted a sign, from Tim, from himself? From the world if it was possible, for goodness sake!

Tim tilted his head slightly, frowning. “What's wrong?” his voice sounded almost concerned, it seemed he had already noticed Conner's nervousness and was giving him the opportunity to speak.

The words were simple, such a short question, but the softness in Tim's voice when he spoke them almost disarmed him.

“Tim...” Conner tried again, but his voice cracked, interrupting once more, and he cursed himself for it. He clenched his fists, trying to hold his nerves. “I-”

“Tim!”

The sudden shout broke what little courage Conner had managed to muster to say the words he had been rehearsing earlier and Conner.... Conner froze, eyes darting quickly to the kitchen exit that led right into the living room.

There was a blond guy - Bernard, Conner forced himself to remember his name - who seemed as surprised by his presence as he was by the blond's presence. Bernard was in his pyjamas and holding a sandwich that seemed to have survived oblivion.

For a second, no one moved.

Bernard... 

Bernard had slept over at Tim's penthouse.

Conner couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the thought of this. Was this the first time? Or were they already at the stage where Bernard was allowed to sleep over every so often with Tim? Conner couldn't remember the last time he had slept over at Tim's penthouse...and God, the thought only made his jealousy grow stronger, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Please don't misunderstand, Conner didn't hate Bernard...and it wasn't that he resented Bernard. After all, the blond was a nice guy and made Tim happy. But Conner couldn't deny the pang of sadness and jealousy that squeezed his heart every time he saw them together, a constant reminder of what he didn't have.

Then Bernard's gaze seemed to gain a gleam of recognition that wasn't there before and his jaw practically hit the floor as he appeared to be in shock. “My God. Is that...are you Superboy?”

Conner blinked, completely unprepared. He had to admit that of all possibilities, he hadn't expected to hear those words come out of Tim's boyfriend's mouth.

Tim turned, his shoulders stiff as a shield, but before he could say anything, Conner sprang into action, always wanting to help Tim. No matter how much it was hurting him now.

“Yeah,” Conner said, flashing his most disarming smile, his classic media smile. “That's me. Flying around, doing my thing. You know.” He said in a playful, flirtatious tone...but unlike when he was talking to Tim, this one was slightly fake, a tone of voice carefully crafted to put on a show.

Bernard gaped, holding the forgotten sandwich in his hand. “That's awesome! Tim, how do you know Superboy?” he asked, turning to look at his boyfriend for the first time since the beginning of the whole interaction. 

Tim's eyes showed a small flash of panic that while it was so subtle it could be considered almost imperceptible, was quite evident to Conner. After all, he had spent so much time with the other boy that those micro-expressions were all too familiar. But he wasn't about to let Bernard tie up loose ends, especially when he could tell that Tim didn't want his boyfriend to know about the connection between him and Conner. So, Conner straightened up, showing his Superboy attitude again and took a step back towards the open sliding door with an easy laugh.

“Oh, Tim and I... We've crossed paths several times,” Conner said, deliberately keeping it vague. “I saw the light on in a place I'd seen before while flying between cities, and I thought I'd check and make sure everything was okay. That's all.” He finished his tale with an easy laugh. 

Tim shot him a look, half pleading, half gratitude.

“And now that I see that everything is all right,” Conner added quickly, understanding that his presence might jeopardize the secret Tim wanted to keep. “And that I seem to have interrupted something..... Well...” He didn't get to finish his thought, and simply pointed towards the window, already moving. He possibly looked as uncomfortable as he felt, but that was beyond him to fix.

He paused for a moment and his eyes bore into Tim's. God...how he wanted to say what he had come to confess...but… even if he wanted to say something else, he didn’t want to have an audience when he did it.

“Night, Tim,” he said instead, voice soft and even if he tried to hide it, slightly hopeless. Then, before he was able to see Tim’s reaction… not wanting to see his reaction… he was gone, the city rushing past him as he flew away, doing his best to run from these feelings and their consequences.

His heart felt heavier than it had when he arrived in Gotham. Sure, he asked for a sign… But the world didn’t have to be such an asshole about it. 

"Until then, my friend," Conner whispered into the empty void that the sky felt at the moment.... Even the stars seemed to be less bright than before. "I will be here, by your side, cherishing our bond and loving you in silence." He promised silently.

[olailamajnoon]

Dick on the phone, at 3 pm in the afternoon: Forgive me father for I have sinned.

Bruce, just woken up, squinting at the alarm clock: Dick it's 3 pm. what is this.

Dick, tearfully: My confession! I couldn't sleep, Bruce. I was the one who drove my hamster to suicide! I didn't feed him malt cookies like I was supposed to! He climbed on the exercise wheel and didn't stop running until he died.

Dick: *continues sobbing*

Bruce: okay so first of all.

Bruce: I'm not a priest.

Bruce: And second of all. Animals don't commit suicide.

Dick: Mari did!

Bruce: You named your male hamster after your mother...?

Dick: NOT THE POINT, BRUCE!

Dick: but yes.

Bruce, sighing: There's so much to unpack here I don't know where to start.

Dick: I killed him, Bruce. I should have died along with him!

Bruce:...

Bruce: It's possible that you've associated your hamster's death with the trauma of your parents' death, possibly because of shared names, and you've displaced your survivor's guilt from the first onto the second.

Dick:...

Dick: So what should I do.

Bruce: In my experience, the best way to deal with survivor's guilt is to save as many people as you can, possibly people in the same situation as the loved ones you have lost, hoping that the heroic nature of your deeds lets you sleep at night.

Dick: And what if that doesn't work?

Bruce: Then you drink. Get shitfaced drunk every time you feel a pang. Or you can pray to a nonexistent god and an uncaring universe.

Dick:...

Dick: If I come over, will you break out the good whiskey.

Bruce: I thought you'd never ask.

[achluos]

babs study

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere batfamily x neglected reader

The manor is cold, silent as a tomb, and for once, it feels like a fitting home. You lie still on the bed, too small and fragile in the heavy, towering room. They all gather around you, each staring in shock, faces pale, breaths shallow—as if hoping that, by holding their breath, they might somehow trade their own life to coax warmth back into your cold form.

Bruce’s hand hovers over you, hesitant. His calloused fingers, so accustomed to war and violence, seem clumsy when they brush against your cheek. He trembles, silent, fighting against the whirlwind in his chest, his stoic mask cracked beyond repair. “I promised to keep you safe,” he whispers, his voice breaking in a way none of them have ever heard before. “I promised… and I failed you.” His hand, heavy with the weight of every failure, drops to his side, useless.

Dick’s hands cover his mouth, choking on a sob that won’t stay hidden. He’s the eldest, the one who was supposed to know better, to set the example. But he looks at you now, his eyes red and raw, remembering each time he walked past you, too busy laughing with others to notice you slipping away. “Why didn’t I tell you…?” he whispers, agony etched across his face. “Why didn’t I show you that you were loved?” The words fall into the silence, lost, and he knows you’ll never hear them now.

Jason kneels beside the bed, clutching your lifeless hand in his, as if he can pull you back with sheer force. His shoulders shake, his body radiating rage, despair, regret. His lips tremble as he remembers the countless times he shrugged off your gaze, ignored the quiet plea in your eyes. He thought he was sparing you from his darkness, protecting you from the world. But now he sees it for what it was—neglect, cold and unkind. He bows his head, the unbreakable Red Hood shattered, silent tears falling onto your still fingers.

Tim stands back, his face white, hands trembling as he presses his fists to his sides. The detective, the genius, who noticed everything—except you. He let the days slip by, assuming there’d always be more time, that you’d understand he was busy, preoccupied with saving the world. But now, as he watches the life drained from you, he feels a pang in his chest sharp enough to cut through bone. “I should’ve been there,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “I should’ve been a brother to you…” He stares at you, eyes rimmed with despair, the guilt hollowing him out from within.

Damian’s usual steel has melted into something unrecognizable. He doesn’t know how to touch you, where to place his hands, and the hesitation makes him feel powerless in a way he’s never known. He’d prided himself on being stronger, colder, above such weakness—but now, faced with your absence, he finds himself wishing he’d let you in, softened just a little. “You… you weren’t supposed to…” He can’t even finish, his words broken. He reaches out, almost unwilling, to touch your hand, flinching when it’s cold. His lips press into a thin line as he tries to hold back tears, but they fall, betraying the ache he’d been too proud to acknowledge.

They stay by your side, each of them reliving every lost opportunity, every moment they could have held you close and didn’t. Days pass, blurred, and they linger in the same room, surrounded by memories of what should have been.

When Alfred brings them food, they push it away. They can’t bear the thought of comfort while you lie there, untouched by life. They whisper to you, sometimes out loud, promising things they can’t ever deliver: "We'll make it up to you…we’ll fix this." But no voice answers back.

Driven by desperation, Bruce turns to ancient books, rumors, magic, anything that offers a hint of hope. He works night after night, chasing the impossible. The others follow him, each digging into their own corners of madness, driven by the need to correct what they destroyed. But every ritual fails, every lead falls cold. And the bitter truth gnaws deeper: there is no cure for regret, no resurrection from guilt.

The night finally falls silent, and they’re left alone with you, as if the universe itself mourns. Each of them curls beside you, their heads on the bed, hands on your arm, your hand, your chest, wherever they can cling to you, trying to pretend for one last moment that you’re still there. They hold on, eyes shut, whispering prayers to a god who’s deaf to their pain.

When morning breaks, none of them rise. They stay beside you, unwilling to face a world that doesn’t have you in it. They’ve lost you, their last chance to be the family they should have been, and they know now they’ll never be whole.

(A/n: no one asked and I also didn't but INSPIRED BY DIS IDEA FROM @steor-ra ILY BESTFRIEND BUT PLEASE UPDATE 💜👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

[to6ge]

— ૮꒰ “ . . ꒱ა PINING ON YOU.

౨ৎ damian wayne x gn!reader ౨ৎ cw . non-proof read. ౨ৎ summary . damian accepts that hes inlove with you ౨ৎ . gwens note . i THINK i like damian guys idk! ౨ৎ wc . 413

damian finally accepted the fact that he’s inevitably and hopelessly fallen for you. he’d first noticed that his heart would race around you when you’d accidentally touched him on the arm, clinging onto him when you both were playing a horror game together. how he’d constantly think about it all over and over again like he has never been touched at all for his whole entire life.

he’s always stealing glances at you when you have your attention on something else. he’d get all flustered when you caught him staring. he notices that when you’re around, he tends to let his guard down and be gentle. he does the littlest things for you just to see you smile. this guy is always listening to you, even if its some stupid ramble about your interests or how hungry you are.

he tries his best to know you more, and he mentally takes down notes of what you like and dislike. he’d quietly stock up snacks that he knows you love. and yes, he’d try to get to know your interests more so that he can find a reason to talk to you more often. bro is down bad for you, even if he wont admit it aloud.

he’s also VERY nervous around you. he’d compliment you frequently, but subtly. “ your shoes look good. ” he muttered. before he did any moves on you, he had to ask his brothers for help, even if they tease him.( since he just wanna impress you so bad !! ) but of course, he composes himself a little too well, so he seems nonchalant every time.

when he was starting to pick up on his behavior, he’d said to Dick, “ i feel funny around them, i just... my heart starts pounding rapidly against my rib cage and my hands start sweating. i just hate how damn attractive they are! ” his brother told him that it was a silly little crush. but damian refused, he didn’t want to believe that he was in love with you— an idiot. yet he did. and he kinda really loved it.

after all, he could help how he felt, and how you made him feel. how he’d always feel at ease with you, how protective he was over you, how his gaze lingers on you for a bit longer as it should be, how he offers to help you when you struggle, how he always keeps his pinky-promises with you.

reblogs and likes are very appreciated ! thank you luvlies for reading ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა im so sorry if this fic doesnt make sense i wanted to make a quick fic before new years !!

[bugboi01]

The Family Omega

batfam x gn! reader imagine

Tw for grooming, sexual coercion, incest, some underage (Damian is 14 and not included in the sexual stuff but Tim and Reader are both 17)

Being a family full of alphas and betas is tough, especially during rut season. While Alfred and Dick did their best to help mediate any fights, the whole family was hoping Damian would be an omega despite the boy's feisty nature. Unfortunately for everyone, Damian woke up on his 14th birthday snarling and acting territorial over his room.

That's where you come in. Maybe you're a friend of Damian's from school, or you work as an intern for WE. Either way, you've piqued the family's interest, and they're desperate enough to make you theirs.

It would start off small, like offering to let you stay the night after a fight with your parents or lending you a jacket covered in one of the alphas' scents. You probably won't even notice how close you've gotten with the family until it's too late. All it takes is one spiked drink or drugged meal for you to go into an early heat.

Bruce would be first as the head of the family. If you try to struggle or protest, he'll simply coo at how cute you are before fucking you mercilessly until he knots your needy hole.

Dick would be next, eagerly eating you out and tasting his father's cum still dripping out of your hole. As a beta, Dick doesn't feel the overwhelming urge to mate with you, so he focuses on making you cum as many times as he can until your omega brain is turned to mush (though he'll definitely fuck you later).

Duke will get his turn after just coming off of patrol. He'll lazily thrust into you until he knots, whispering praises all the while.

Youll get a small break with Damian as the younger alpha will be more focused on scenting you and making sure your nest is up to his standards. You'll get some water and your favorite food from Alfred before it's back to being bred.

Jason is probably the most rough out of all the batboys, but he doesn't mean to be. He just loves the feeling of you so much that he can't help but lose control a little. He'd definitely have some sort of mommy/daddy kink. Will suck on your nipples while he waits for his knot to go down.

Finally, Tim. Tim is either really fucking energetic or a bit more tired and subdued like Duke depending on how much sleep he's had. If he's bored from working on a case or as ceo, he'll get all his energy out on you. If he's tired from patrol or staying up, he's more relaxed, maybe even making you ride him. I also think he rambles during sex, maybe about how good you feel or maybe just whatever hyperfixation he has at the moment.

(Omg that was a doozy. First time writing on tumblr btw! Feel free to leave requests if you want more or constructive criticism in my asks!)

[fandomfuntimem]

"There are more of us than you think"

The ghost boy floated infront on Batman. All he wanted was to offer this kid some help. He has been deffending this town for a little over two years now with no help. So Batman just thought offering some training and other teen heros to help would be nice. But all he was met with was a cold hard stare. It wasn't a lookxof hatred, or anger, just disappointment.

"What?" He asked. For once in his life he didn't get it. What did he mean? 'There are more of us' more half ghosts like him? Multiples of him?

"What I mean Batman, is there are far more teen heros than you think. There are so many kids who were left to deffend their homes by themselves. I'm in contact with plenty of people like me. I don't need your charity work. We dont need it," Phantom took a deap breth, "so many kids had to save the world while the Justice League sat back and did nothing. Ben Tennyson has been saving the world since he was ten, a child soldier and the only effective weapon the Plumbers have. The Ninja over in Norrisville was given his powers at fourteen. Max Steel was fused with an alien and born with nuclear levels of power. The list goes on bats. Kim Possible, Jenny, Generator Rex, Zak Saturday. We all did just fine without you and your League."

Batman was speechless. That many? That many kids left to deffend their homes? Phantom obviously seemed to have contact with them, maybe they help eachother out, but still. How did the Justice League not know?

Phantom disappeared and left Batman to ponder his words alone. How many world ending events did thease kids fight? How many of them did they fight alone? How much help did each of them have? Phantom only has a niche group of allies, how small are their support groups?

He'll have to research this when he returns to the bat cave. Hopefully he can get all thease kids get the help they need. Set up Zeta Tubes in their cities, and end this awful epidemic of teen heros.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

[devilfic]

could you do some more stuff on bruce with reader and dick ? the christmas one was ADORABLE AND I JUST CANT HANDLE okay thanks

a/n: you were probably hoping for something fluffy and I APOLOGIZE but I also really wanted to explore the relationship you'd have with dick when you first take him in and show how he grows to trust you ;-;;;;

imagine that it’s right after you and bruce take in dick. he’s angry, he’s grieving, he’s cold. it’s been a rough few weeks since the deaths of his parents. you and bruce had thought about having kids one day but it was never the right time, not until that night when it all happened and bruce looked at you and you just knew.

and then you’d somehow convinced this kid (this kid who looked the spitting image of your husband already, like he was destined to be yours) to let you keep him. not to be his parents because you could never replace john and mary grayson, but to give him a safe place to stay. dick is too young to be this angry but he agrees because he can’t find his parents’ killer when he’s too busy hopping from foster home to foster home with no end in sight.

and you expect that it’ll take time but it doesn’t make his rejection hurt any less. he never stays in the room long enough to talk to either of you, and when he does, he’s always asking about the investigation. it breaks your heart every time to tell him the gcpd are still looking, following leads that you both have a feeling lead nowhere. they don’t know where tony zucco is. you can see the frustration growing in him and the resentment too.

you try to be there because bruce can’t. how can he? he’s so busy looking, chasing those same leads as the bat every night. it makes it harder for dick to trust bruce. he’s a stranger to him. always working, never home. as far as dick was concerned, bruce didn’t give a rat’s ass about finding his parents’ murderer. but every night, from sundown to sun up, your husband was scouring the streets for the man that had ruined dick’s life. but you can’t tell dick that part. bruce isn’t ready.

and one night, it’s storming. it’s not uncommon in gotham but you feel your stomach flip at a crack of thunder. something pulls you out of your sleep, out of your empty bed and down the hall to dick’s room. the door is always shut and locked but now it’s cracked open. a peek inside and he’s nowhere to be found. your stomach drops at another crack of thunder.

you tear the penthouse apart and even alfred can’t tell you when he’d last seen him. it’s then that you notice his coat and shoes are gone, and you’re out the door with barely enough time to get dressed or to heed alfred’s warning.

your instincts are telling you that wherever he is, and god forbid he’s in a ditch somewhere with the kind of types that hang around the city this late, he’s close. even if you can’t see him. you keep searching the skies as if you’ll find him there when the bat signal flips on, and you realize that all this time, your instincts have been leading you right to it.

you reach the top of the building and find dick there, staring off into the sky, and you can’t help but demand to know what he was thinking running off like that. what if he’d gotten hurt or worse? what if you’d lost him for good?

and he’s got this look on his face like he’s freezing and doesn’t want you to notice because then you’ll just cover him in your coat and freeze too. because you would and have. you would do anything to protect him. “you won’t help me.”

“that’s not true, dick. these things take time. trust me, the gcpd is doing everything they can to find that man. we’re not letting zucco get away with what he did to your parents. you have to believe me.”

dick’s scoffing at you. If he wasn’t so small, still chubby-cheeked and rosy, his snark would put him beyond your years, “the police won’t find him. batman will.”

dick doesn’t know how right he is but you try to steer him away, telling him that batman is a vigilante and that there’s no way to prove if you can trust him, but it’s like everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. at some point, you tell him that bruce would be home soon and seeing dick missing would tear him up inside and, without missing a beat, dick tells you “he’d have to be around to care.”

and how do you reconcile with that? how do you make a child feel loved and cared for with nothing to show for it? nothing you can show for it?

you don’t know what you and bruce were thinking. you weren’t ready. you must have wanted to be so bad that you mistook it for something it wasn’t. dick grayson didn’t need new parents. he’d told you as much the minute you’d offered to take him in. of course he’d run away. as far as dick was concerned, all you’d given him was a pretty house to mourn in.

you almost forget why you’re up here.

dick spots him before you do, the dark knight, and from where you’re kneeling you can imagine what he must look like to a child. a boogeyman or an angel, something other than human. dick runs at him as if he’s all that and more. completely enamored. bruce can’t ask with dick there but his eyes flicker to you and you must look pitiful.

it’s just that dick is so. starstruck. you’ve never seen him like this in all the time he’s been with you. it almost feels worth it keeping the secret, then. “you came.” dick sighs.

you’re thinking about all the things bruce’s eyes are saying. he’s focused on this little boy, too afraid to look away, almost too afraid to speak. what if dick could tell? what if he mistook this for some cruel joke? but then bruce puts his hand on dick’s shoulder and would you believe it? for the first time, dick lets bruce touch him, “you called.”

“I need your help, batman.” dick pleads. you shut your eyes, unable to look at bruce or dick knowing what’s coming next. “someone took my parents away from me. I need to find him. and I need your help.”

a few moments pass. you dare crack open an eye, ready to sweep dick out of there and suffer his anger on the way home. anything to avoid seeing the inevitable heartbreak in your husband’s expression. you couldn’t take it. but you falter when you see bruce kneeling before the kid. he’s schooled his expression into something reminiscent of the symbol, the impenetrable, immovable batman, “the graysons, right? the flying graysons. you’re the kid.”

you can hear the shock in dick’s voice, “you know me?”

“I don’t forget a face,” you watch bruce smile, “or someone as talented as you. your parents were good people. I’m sorry for your loss… which is why I’m doing everything I can to find him, dick. I promise I’ll find him.”

“let me help.” bruce laughs—or gasps—at how sudden and stubborn his request is. dick immediately takes offense, “I’m not kidding.”

“no, no. I know you’re not. you just… remind me of someone. I believe you. but not just anybody can do what I do.”

“I can fight! a little. I need some training. but I’m really flexible! and I’m fast.”

“that’s good. people underestimate you when you’re small and lean.”

“how do I get superpowers like you?”

“I don’t have powers.”

“then how do you fly?”

bruce drags his cape between the two of them, eyes sparkling, “physics.”

dick doesn’t even know what that means. he still says “coooooool” like he does. “can I have a cape?”

taking dick’s hand in yours, you try your best not to say bruce’s name when you mean batman (because let’s be honest, the man in front of you is more bruce than anything—all soft eyes, tender voice, careful smiles), insisting that it’s late and way past dick’s bedtime and that you both really need to get home before this storm gets worse when dick begs batman to take you both home in his “super cool” car. and really, how can either of you refuse him?

so you keep him in your lap on the drive home, watching bruce explain what each of the little knobs and buttons do, but dick never runs out of questions. “how fast can you go?” “do you have other cars?” “does it have a name? can I name it?” bruce meets every single one of them with the breathless, youthful kind of joy you get when a child trusts you, really trusts and likes you. even if it’s not really him, it’s enough.

it must be a sight, crawling out of the batman’s car onto the sidewalk. dick clearly doesn’t want to go with his hands on the door begging to see batman again.

“you will,” bruce assures him, looking over at you for just a split second, “I promise.”

it’s days later when bruce gives you the go ahead and you take dick down into the elevator, the one you’d always told him didn’t work anymore. the first thing he sees is bruce at his desk with his cowl in his hands and that shocking black paint across his eyes, waiting with more fear than you’d seen in him fighting his greatest enemies. you don’t think he could take the rejection if this went badly.

bruce steps forward, kneels before dick, tender and vulnerable and open. dick’s shoulders tremble beneath your hands. “I think I found him, but I need your help. so no more secrets.” bruce holds out his hand, shaky and bare, “deal?”

dick is silent for a long time; lips pursed, eyes blown wide. you think he even stops breathing, his chest refusing to rise and fall. you brush a hand through his hair, whispering his name, and catch your husband’s worried eyes. was it too soon? had he scared off dick altogether?

but dick places his hand in bruce’s, so small in comparison. it’s such a shy touch that bruce doesn’t even close his hand around it, too afraid. doesn’t want to scare him. doesn’t want to indulge too much in this kid, so much like himself, finding safety and solace in him. because dick isn’t looking for parents. he wants answers, revenge, justice, whatever he called it to sleep better. and if all you and bruce could do for him is give him that closure, you would. and if dick wanted to leave when it was all said and done, you would let him do that too.

that evening, dick takes dinner with you two and alfred. you take heart in the fact that dick allows you this much. it’s one step, small as it may be, in the right direction.

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[morganbritton132]

Do you think that the people of Gotham are ever just trying to enjoy their day and then see one of the Waynes walk into the cafe they’re at or go to the movies at the same time as them, and think, “Great, my chances of being a part of a hostage situation has just been raised by 20-40%”