#bruce wayne x reader one-shot

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Red Knight in Shining Armour

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 1.3 K; part two summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so warnings: cat calling a/n: Something possessed me and I had to write this small drabble. Might consider writing more parts to it, dunno

Finally, you‘ve finished your shift in that overly warm bakery. After taking care of mostly elderly customers, baking fresh goods, and taking care of some more rather demanding customers, you could make your way home. The fresh february air hits you as you step before closing the small bakery, making your way to the busstop. Gotham is not known for warm or sunny weather, especially during the shortest month of the year. This is why you wrap your scarf tighter around you, making sure you won‘t catch a cold with the freezing wind that flies right against you. You eventually reach your desired destination, satisfied the bus is already standing there, possibly waiting for you.

As soon as you reach it, he cheekily drives away and leaves you waiting for the next bus… in two hours.

Now, of course you wouldn‘t wait two freezing hours around eleven PM in Gotham. It‘s probably safer and way faster to just walk the half an hour to your apartment. With that logic, you start trotting home, feeling a little moody now. What kind of bus driver just drives away even when a person clearly walks towards it? Muttering incoherent insults at the bus driver, you make sure to keep yourself warm enough at the same time. Your coat is doing a mostly good job at keeping you from trembling, so does your thick scarf. But you wish you brought your warm hat with you.

You tense at hearing heavy steps behind you. Sure, Gotham is definitely not the safest city, but you never had to actively protect yourself from any dangers because you always had the bus! That goddamn bus is driving you nuts, to the point you don‘t notice the strange man approaching you closer. He‘s about a few feet away from you now, finally raising his voice.

»Hey, princess! Are you lost?«

You finally glance behind your shoulder, not having expected for him to actually be a little closer to you now. Oh, he is taller than you. And has his hands in his pockets. This doesn‘t look good at all.

You quickly turn your head forward again, quickening your steps to get home faster and escape this creepy goon. He doesn‘t relent though and follows you, his hood over his head in a really suspicious way. You turn into a dark alley, cursing yourself internally for needing to go in there in order to get home faster. The alley is dark but also pretty long, as if a neverending hallway. Finally, the alleyway has an opening, walking a little faster again to escape the creep, but you also have to be careful not to slip on some ice.

A flash of red is appearing in the cornor of your eye, instinctively looking over to your side. Without further hesitancy, you hurry to the infamous vigilante and glance behind your shoulder briefly again.

»Red Hood! Please, there‘s someone following me, please pretend to be my boyfriend! Please!«

You plead desperately and stay by his side, your heart racing more from the paranoia of being followed and also from being so close to the real Red Hood, asking for help.

The vigilante doesn‘t flinch from his spot, studying you briefly before looking to the direction you just came from. The scary creep appears now too, eyes trained on you under his hood and possibly not even scared of the Crime Lord standing right beside you.

Without thinking, Red Hood wraps his arm around your shoulder and straightens his posture. The goon finally glances at him before his eyes fall back on you.

»C‘mon, sweetie, aren‘t you gonna spend time with me?« You shake your head urgently and press yourself more into Red‘s side, the hard material of his armour flush against your own soft coat.

»Does she know you?« The man beside you almost snarls, his voice a little distorted from his red helmet. An almost mocking scoff escapes the creep in front of you, staying there with some distance.

»Does it matter?«

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, making Red Hood squeeze your shoulder lightly with his hand.

He guides you to stand more behind him, glaring at the man under his helmet, feeling the strong urge to just beat him up into pieces. Still, he acts without any physical violence, not wanting to scare you even more.

»Listen here, you son of a bitch. Either, you go back the way you came here, or you won‘t recognise your face the next morning. If you‘ll wake up.«

He threatens, which makes the other man take a small step back. He seems to consider something, glancing to you as you still stand behind the vigilante. After what seems like a few minutes of tense silence, the weirdo walks away from you both.

You exhaled relievedly, stepping closer to Red Hood again.

»Thank you so much! You just probably saved my life from him, I don‘t know how to pay you back.«

He looks to you again, his expression unreadable due to his helmet. But he does shake his head and holds one of his hands up lightly.

»No need to, lady. I‘m always here for help, don‘t worry.«

Red feels lightly weird calming down a random person, but he feels like he needs to. After all, he just pried a man – a really creepy bastard – from you. And it feels wrong to ask for something in return for it. He never does that sort of stuff.

»Well, still… You know what? You can visit my bakery, I‘ll give you a treat. On the house, of course!«

He feels surprised at your request, thinking over your suggestion for a moment.

»I‘ll see what I can do.« He pauses before saying goodbye, glancing around the area briefly.

»Do you need a ride home? It‘s not safe around midnight.«

Now it‘s your turn to be surprised, mulling over the suggestion. It‘s only twenty minutes until you‘re back home safely, but you also don‘t want to be a further bother to him. Eventually, you decide to be truthful.

»I was just planning on walking the last twenty minutes home. I don‘t want to bother you any longer...«

Another sudden wind goes past you, which makes you wrap your scarf tighter around your neck again, the action not going unnoticed by him. Finally, despite his own pride, he suggests taking you home with his bike. You feel star-struck, never having thought someone like him – no, Red Hood would give you a ride home. After saving you, too.

Not able to miss such an opportunity, you agree, and he helps you put on his extra helmet for the quick ride. Luckily, he knows this area of the city well, just needing the name of your address, and he knows which route he needs to take.

»Hold on tight, yeah?« At this point, he muted his comms, as well as the others, not wanting for them to hear you both and the other way around. He starts driving you back to your apartment complex, feeling a small thrill as you sit behind him and have your arms wrapped around his torso. Every time he makes a turn, you hold on even tighter to him, not used to riding a motorcycle at all.

Eventually, after some minutes of driving, you arrive, and he helps you get off the bike. You take off the extra helmet he gave you, ruffling your hair to let it look less messy from the helmet. He watches, taking the helmet from you, and eventually leaves on his bike, but not without memorising your street and face. Just in case.

Finally, you made it home, having a big story to tell your best friend tomorrow morning at work.

»You‘ve got a girlfriend now, Jaybird?«

Dick‘s smug voice chimes into his earpiece once he turns the comms on again.

»None of your business, Dickhead.« Jason grumbles back, earning a brief scolding from Bruce to use their callsigns again.

←MASTERLIST

[xmalereader]

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: Could you please write Burce wayne x male reader who has trouble ordering food. Like in a restaurant when the waiter asks, he either stutters or goes completely quiet, and that's why he asks Bruce to order for him. And i would like to see Bruce's reactions when a waiter is like "you don't have to order for him. He can order for himself. I wasn't asking you, i was asking him" just the waiter assuming that Bruce is kinda controlling. The reader is silently crying in his seat, having to order on his own, like he knows the waiter was trying to do something good. (Totally not speaking from personal experience 🤭)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, mature language, social anxiety, Bruce is a good boyfriend, mentions of fears, judgment, request, relatable events, everyone struggles.

TAGS: @one-green-frog

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: I used to struggle with ordering food due to anxiety and fear of people judging me 😩 but as I got older they fear kind of went away and I’m able to do it with no problem but everyone deals with anxiety differently and takes time to get come it so I ain’t judging. It’s like that with my older brother he’s 26 and still makes me order for him due to his own anxiety. But hopefully you enjoyed this shot and apologize for the long wait!

Everyone has social anxiety.

Y/n struggled with it at a young age, not being taught how to speak with others in public without getting the intense fear of judgment from others. He figured that he would improve as he got older, but it didn’t change and still struggled with the simple things. He could go out and run errands alone without any struggles since majority of place now had self checkout which was a god send for many.

He’s able to hold a conversation with strangers or with people he knew in the area, but his anxiety would get to him when it came towards the simplest tasks. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an over thinker and would think that he did something wrong or if he perhaps pronounced something incorrect, thinking that people were judging him for the smallest things. It took time for him to improve but the anxiety still remained during important moments.

One of the easiest things that many were able to accomplish is ordering food. Their were times that he hesitated or froze up when ordering his own food, having to apologize each time he orders and forcing a nervous smile or laugh in hopes of getting through the few minutes that he is there. He struggled even more when he went out on dates.

Very few people knew about his anxiety and very few friends were kind enough to do the ordering for him without hesitation and providing the assistance that he needed. With strangers it was a whole other story, he didn’t want to force them into placing his own order due to his own fear and would struggle with speaking the words.

His dates never went well after that and hated the way he felt each time he stumbled upon the problem. If the waiter or waitress wasn’t staring at him intensely he’d probably order his food without a problem and his day would go fine. But the feeling of their eyes staring at him as he looked at his choices of food made him stutter and grow nervous when ordering.

Forcing that smile as always and getting through the day of embarrassment.

If he had this kind of anxiety how was he suppose to handle his future dates when he couldn’t do a simple task? He’s able to do a whole presentation in a room full of board of directors but he stutters and hesitates when it comes towards ordering a simple meal or even asking for help whenever he’s in public.

He figured he’d spend his days locked indoors while making his own meals while watching a good movie.

He didn’t think he’d end up bagging Bruce Wayne. Gothams Golden boy.

Y/n had thought that this was all a trick or a joke when Bruce first asked him out. He wanted to laugh at the mans face and tell him that he doesn’t need to make his life miserable by playing a mean joke, only to realize that Bruce was in fact not joking around.

Y/n worked at Wayne Enterprises but in a lower department not expecting himself to bump into Bruce Wayne and getting asked out by the man himself. Their first date was simple with a cup of coffee and muffins. He would have thought that bruce would take him someplace fancy on their first date, but when he didn’t he was a bit relieved.

Bruce was a great man and didn’t do anything that made him uncomfortable. Y/n figured that he’d only get lucky to have one date with bruce and then never see them man again, only to get asked out again and again and again. The first four months went well without any problems and enjoyed his time with Bruce as their time together grew their dates slowly got fancier.

Resulting into Y/n confessing to Bruce about his anxiety and fear of others judging him because he couldn’t do a simple task that only required a few words. He thought Bruce would laugh at him or use it against him and force him to confront his fear, instead Bruce smiled at him and asked.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

He said it with the most calmest voice ever showing no hints of judgment.

Y/n wanted to cry that night. It was a simple favor, but it meant a lot to him.

As their dates continued they created a routine each time they went out to eat. Y/n would either look up the menu online ahead of time and already have his order in mind and tell bruce before getting their orders placed. Bruce even memorized the dishes that Y/n liked whenever they went to a repeated restaurant and would for him on the spot without needing to be told what he liked, already knowing the mans interests.

A year into dating and it became a normal thing between the two.

During their one year anniversary, Bruce decided to take him to a new restaurant and getting seated in a nice secluded area and away from others. Y/n scanned the menu and hums. “This looks good.” He speaks up as he checks the different dishes until one caught his eye.

“You know the rule, order whatever you want.” Said Bruce, always reminding him that he can get whatever he wanted. Y/n was hesitant about the prices at first but with time he got adjusted to the idea of Bruce paying for everything and no matter how many times he tried to pay himself, Bruce had already paid ahead of time.

“This pasta looks good.” Y/n points out on the menu and shows Bruce who looked up form his own menu and smiles. “Is that all you want?”

“Can I also get this for dessert?” He points behind the menu where a picture of a nicely desert is presented, getting Bruce to chuckle as he nods his head. “You better share with me because I already know you won’t eat it all.” Y/n laughs at his words and sets his menu down, leaning back in his seat as he looks around the restaurant and takes in the interior, distracted by the place that he doesn’t notice the waitress coming over.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles at the women and starts with his order first, letting her know what he’d like. “And for you?” She turns her attention to Y/n who gets his attention pulled away from a painting he was staring at and looks at her with wide eyes. “I…”

“He’d have the pasta and the chocolate desert.” Bruce is quick to cut in when he noticed Y/n freeze up.

The waitress gives Bruce the stink eye by how he interrupts Y/n. “You don’t have to order for him. He can order for himself.” Bruce froze with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth in shock. “I wasn’t asking you I was asking him.” She points her pencil at Y/n and puts her attention on him.

Y/n can only gap at her, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to speak but I can’t. He was caught off guard and reached out for his menu. “I’ll like…the—the…” He’s stuttering and doesn’t know what to tell her. “Do you need another minute?” She asks which only make the situation worse, he’s turning to Bruce and staring at him with eyes full of fear and hesitation silently screaming for help.

“I assure you miss my partner would like the pasta and desert.” Bruce says again in hopes of getting her to note down the order and she does, not without rolling her eyes which only makes Y/n whine.

“Your food will be ready soon.” She said while taking their menus and walking away, leaving them in silence.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, she probably thinks you’re an asshole now.” He groans out while covering his face with his hands. Bruce can only chuckle while shaking his head and reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “Don’t be, not everyone knows about your fear and besides she was only doing it because she probably thought I was controlling.”

“You’re not!”

“She doesn’t know that. If I wanted to be asshole I would have yelled at her like other people do, but I’m not doing that. It was a simple misunderstanding.” Bruce reassured Y/n as he held his hand and smiles. He didn’t think that something like this would happen since they’ve never had this issue in the past at the other places that they visited.

“All you have to worry about is eating all of your food and sharing your desert.” Bruce tries to lighten up the mood which works for Y/n as he chuckled and nods his head. “Fine and then after we go home and watch a movie and not come back here again.” After this misunderstanding its most likely he doesn’t want to come back and face the same issue again.

“We stick with Jimmy’s…” He mumbled out, referring to his favorite restaurant that serviced amazing chicken wings and fries. Bruce laughs while nodding. “Next time we go out will go to Jimmy’s.” At this point they were already considered regulars that the owner memorized their orders, which made it better for Y/n.

[dinodaweeb]

LIES, SPIES, AND HOT GUYS |

Gn!Detective!Reader x Batman

summary: as a detective you make sure you prioritize Bruce Wayne’s safety but he assures you he doesn’t need it, prick.

You never expected to find yourself at one of Gotham's most glamorous events—a gala at Wayne Manor. Awkward and out of place, you struggle to fit in among Gotham's elite.

The moment you stepped into Wayne Manor, you felt like a fish out of water. The grand chandeliers, the polished marble floors, and the glittering gowns of Gotham's elite were a far cry from the gritty crime scenes and dimly lit precincts you were used to.

Far different. The air felt too expensive to breathe.

Why had you even agreed to this?

Oh right, the Commissioner insisted on having "a few of Gotham's finest" at the event, just in case. And with your gruff demeanor and awkward social skills, you had drawn the short straw.

Awkwardly, you stood near a large ornate column, sipping a glass of water and trying to avoid eye contact with the crowd. Despite the suit and tie—or, in their case, a somewhat ill-fitting tuxedo—they felt utterly out of place. The pants felt too tight around your rear and you got this done at the shop. How could they screw that up?

Your eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail, searching for anything—or anyone—out of the ordinary.

Just as you were beginning to try to relax, you spotted a group of familiar faces. The Wayne kids—Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, and a few others—stood near the large windows, looking far too at ease in the luxurious setting.

Summoning a bit of courage, you approached them. After all, if they were going to be stuck here, they might as well make some polite conversation.

"Grayson, Drake," You greeted with a nod, trying to sound casual but polite.

Dick smiled brightly. "Detective! Didn't expect to see you here!"

"Yeah, well… duty calls, I wasn’t exactly invited by you but..” You muttered, feeling a bit more self-conscious than you intended. Tim gave a small nod of acknowledgment, while Damian looked as uninterested as ever.

Why do you even try at this.

Before the conversation could go further, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Detective, welcome to Wayne Manor."

You turned to see Bruce Wayne approaching, his signature charming smile firmly in place. The billionaire looked every bit the part, effortlessly exuding wealth and charisma.

His looks lived up to the legend, pretty punk.

"Mr. Wayne," You greeted, doing their best to mask their awkwardness. Which probably failed. "Thanks for having me.”

"Of course. I always appreciate Gotham's finest keeping an eye on things," Bruce replied, his tone friendly yet distant. There was a glint in his eyes, something that set you on edge. Before they could respond, Bruce offered another smile, then excused himself, moving on to mingle with other guests.

You watched him go, your brows furrowing. Something about Bruce seemed… off. But before you could dwell on it, your attention snapped back to the task at hand: scanning the room for any potential threats.

As the evening wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. You kept a close eye on Bruce from across the room, noting how the billionaire seemed to glide through the crowd effortlessly, charming everyone he spoke to. But that nagging feeling in the back of your mind wouldn't go away.

And then it happened.

A loud crash echoed through the grand hall, followed by the panicked screams of guests. The doors burst open, and a group of armed robbers stormed in, weapons raised. Chaos erupted as people dove for cover, and the orchestra’s music was abruptly silenced.

"Everyone down! Now!" one of the robbers shouted, firing a warning shot into the ceiling.

Instinctively, you reached for their gun, but the crowd's panic made it impossible to get a clear shot. People were scrambling, pushing, and shouting. In the confusion, you caught sight of Bruce Wayne, who had been near the doors moments before. Now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Damn it!

You pushed through the crowd, your focus entirely on finding Bruce. If something happened to Gotham's golden boy on your watch, you would never forgive yourself.

Thankfully, you managed to slip away from the main hall, only to find Bruce backing into a nearby room, the door clicking shut just as you reached it. They shoved the door open and rushed inside, finding Bruce standing calmly by the window, looking far too composed for someone who was supposed to be terrified.

His fingers twitched when he heard the door open though, so maybe he was alarmed. You couldn’t blame him, it was a scary situation for anyone.

"Mr. Wayne, are you alright?" You panted, closing the door behind them and locking it.

Bruce turned to face them, an almost amused expression on his face. "I’m fine, Detective."

"Good. Stay here," You ordered, pulling out their gun and moving to stand between Bruce and the door. "I’ll handle this."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "That won’t be necessary."

You frowned. "What do you mean it won’t be necessary? There are armed robbers out there! You need to stay put, or you could get hurt."

"I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Bruce said, his tone calm and almost… teasing.

The detective’s frustration flared. Here you were, trying to protect this man, and he was acting like it was no big deal. "Look, I get that you’re used to getting your way, but right now, you need to let me do my job!"

Bruce’s eyes narrowed slightly, the playful glint fading. "And what if I told you that I could handle this situation better than you think?"

You were about to snap back, but the words died in their throat as they realized what Bruce was implying. "You’re not seriously thinking about playing hero, are you? This is my duty.”

Marching up to him, you poked your finger repeatedly into his chest.

“I’m here to protect you, Mr. Wayne.”

Before Bruce could respond, a loud bang echoed from the hallway, followed by heavy footsteps approaching the door. With precision, you pulled Bruce by the waist and forced him behind you. You stiffened, turning their full attention to the door. "Stay behind me."

"Detective—"

"I said stay behind me!" You hissed, cutting Bruce off as you aimed your gun at the door. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins.

The door burst open, and you were ready to fire, but the figure that entered the room made them hesitate. It was Nightwing.

"Hold your fire!" Nightwing ordered, raising his hands as he stepped inside.

You lowered their weapon, exhaling a shaky breath. "What are you doing here?"

Nightwing glanced at Bruce, then back at you. A cheeky glint in his eyes. "I’m here to get him out of here.”

"Wait, you know him?" You asked, confused.

Nightwing’s lips curled into a half-smile. "You could say that."

Bruce stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Thank you for your concern, Detective, but I’ll be safe with him."

You opened their mouth to argue, but the calm, assured look in Bruce’s eyes stopped them. For some reason, you believed him—despite how absurd it all seemed.

But did you seriously suck that much at your job that he felt safer with masked vigilante than a GCPD officer? You felt your pride shatter.

With a bitter taste in your mouth and the slightest pout on your lips, you nodded. Giving Bruce a pat on the back.

Nightwing took Bruce by the arm, guiding him toward the door. "Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe."

You watched them go, their mind racing. None of this made sense. Why would Nightwing, of all people, be protecting Bruce Wayne? And why did Bruce seem so… unconcerned?

As the door closed behind them, You finally allowed yourself to breathe. The realization hit you like a freight train: Batman was out there, hunting these criminals, and Bruce Wayne was likely his next target.

"Idiot," You muttered to yourself, rubbing your temples. "Of course, Batman would want to protect him."

Then you felt your heart sink.

“Or harm him.”

But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bruce Wayne than met the eye. Something you couldn’t quite put you're finger on.

As you exited the room, ready to join the fight outside, you couldn’t help but wonder: Just who exactly was Bruce Wayne? And why did they feel like they were in way over their head?

One thing was for sure: you were going to find out.

And when you did, you had a feeling it would change everything.

Red Hood stopped your inner monologue. “Yo, Hey, Dude— C’mon. Snap out of it.”

You blinked, your eyes reaching up.

“Now, are you going to stand there looking like a rookie, or are you going to help me with these goons?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, turning to see Red Hood leaning casually against the doorframe, his helmet tilted slightly as if amused by your daze. You cursed inwardly—first Nightwing, now Red Hood. How many of Gotham’s vigilantes were going to show up tonight?

“You’re here too?” you asked, exasperated.

“Yeah, and lucky for you. Looks like you could use the backup,”

Red Hood quipped, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. “Now, are we gonna take these guys down, or do you need a minute to process whatever conspiracy theories you’re cooking up?”

You shot him a glare but nodded. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Red Hood grinned beneath his helmet, drawing his guns. “Hell yeah.”

a/n: guys, asks r open :3 I wanna write more for my boysss 🫶😔 (no cursed shit plz)

[chiaraswritings]

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts." 

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?" 

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay." 

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 

"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 

"Expect the unexpected." 

[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.

[pandorasb1tch]

Y/N: I think I’m in love with Jason…

Tim:

Y/N: any thoughts?

Tim: and prayers. You’re going to need them.

[amourlyns]

❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

𐙚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: in which batman visits crime alley, and the reader indulges the bat with sweet notes and baked goods.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

𐙚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: inspired by this post. thought it was the cutest thing ever and i wanted to write it out, something short n sweet !! dedicated to @armin-ocean-eyes

⟡ ⠀ | 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. Of course, The Bat doesn’t want to jinx his nightly patrol but (…) it’s been nice.

In all honestly, it finally felt like a break. A time to hunker down and take time to focus on his parents. A stroll through Crime Alley would do. Bruce never forgets about his parents, nor does he forget that night. He comes back to remind himself of what happened. How he couldn’t stop it. How he failed to protect them. It’s a constant reminder, a punishment.

Tension never leaves Bruce’s body. He’s always so high strung, constantly prepared for fight or flight. Shoulders are tense, brows are furries and teeth are gritted. This was his very being now.

Late nights, cold and oh, so lonely. The heavy bass of boots sloshing through rain water across the concrete street. Vengeance has filled the role of Gotham’s protector for long enough to know everything about the city he tirelessly protects. He knows this city better than anyone else.

But he still can’t stomach the alleyway.

Today, Bruce doesn’t bring flowers, but he brings himself. And hopefully, that’s enough for them.

From above the street, unbeknownst to the Bat. He has an angel, a watcher if you will. The city has swallowed him whole and spat him right back at out tonight. Senses are diminished, hazy from the beatings of tonight. Usually, he’s more attentive than this.

Funnily enough, you just moved into the city of Gotham three weeks ago. It’s a dreary, dull city. But at least it’s away from home. Right? Sure, the apartment you were currently living in definitely seemed haunted and it literally oversaw the alleyway the Waynes died in. Why did no one tell you they got mugged? (…) But what could you do? It’s shitty but the only thing you could afford in this damned economy.

And dude, it was definitely haunted.

You actually thought you were hallucinating the first time you laid your eyes on it. The fucking Bat, Vengeance. Gotham Cities actuals protector? It was odd and horrifying. You expected to see him raging through the alley in his moody glory. Big, defiant, and spooky!

But he actually seemed defeated? In a way? His strides were slow. Then, he knelt down onto the pavement and stayed there. It’s weird, this habitual routine of the Bat coming by and kneeling happened constantly. Well, to be fair he did patrol your building after that. Scouring the rooftops for any signs of peril within the area.

When he was done, he would come back to your building and linger on the fire escape. Sometimes you could hear his heavy footsteps on the rooftops or the iron steps.

Now, no one ever said you were the brightest in the bunch. You moved to Gotham for goodness sake. Anyways, you decided to actually make contact with the Bat. Which in theory, sounds like a good idea because who wouldn’t want a hero in their pocket? Well, a vigilante. But you digress (…) If coming near the alley brings him down, maybe he needs a lift?

The general idea was, leave a note or a gift for Vengeance and leave him be. So, that’s how it begun.

It was the third time Bruce visited the crime alley. This time, he had the intention to make his trip revolve only around his parents.

But then he saw you.

Granted, you were definitely not expecting to see anyone or someone like the Batman at this time of night. So you scrambled off of your balcony and dropped some sort of post-it note on the way out. There were three things on Bruce’s mind. How many times have you seen him and did you know his habits or who he was? Paranoia gnaws away at his guts and creates a nasty hole in his stomach.

He was a master of overthinking.

The Bat was quick to snatch up the post-it note you dropped, taking the time to read and analyze your penmanship. Was it lined with some sort of poison? Was it a tracking device? He waits for a moment. Grunting at the words etched into the paper.

〞I don't know what you're going through but I know you'll get through it. Xoxo. 〞

Huh.

Alfred would tease him for this.

An admirer? He was stumped.

It’s been about a week since you’ve seen Vengeance, your gifts of food and ever abundant notes never stopped though. You were starting to think he changed his route ever since that night he caught you on the railing.

First off, he was terrifying up close (the man was ten feet away) and second off, how was he able to catch you. Some part of you expected the man to interrogate you or something.

He didn’t, thank goodness. But you kind of missed seeing the cryptic Bat.

On the other hand, Bruce decided to do some research on you. A through background check would never hurt and who knows if you wanted to kill him? It could all be a facade. Each baked good and beverage you left out for the Bat was analyzed and tested. It could’ve been poisoned, laced, or worst, set to detonate. He was taking precautions. But Alfred insisted it was a good gesture.

Whatever it was, you never stopped. Bruce changed his route of course, there was no reason to let his guard down. But, he did appreciate the notes. To an extent. He just couldn’t help but think of the uncertainty.

The latest one he was holding onto was nothing short of thoughtful.

〞I hope you're having a good day :) (Btw, I haven’t seen you around!〞

So for the most part you were attentive. So he could commend you for that.

Despite all of the alarms in his brain telling him to stick to the new route, he returns to the old route for your sake. The very least he could do was thank you for the messages and treats. At least, that’s what Alfred said. For once, he didn’t feel like being stubborn and listened. The first thing he saw was your silhouette against the glass of your sliding door. Then, your emergence.

Bruce is frozen in place. But you’re waving frantically and running down the steps to greet him. Should he turn away? Just leave and never show up again? What if ⸻

❛ OHMYGOSH, OH MY GOSH. YOU’RE REAL! YOU’RE HERE! I WAS STARTING TO THINK I WAS BEING DELUSIONAL AND SEEING THINGS. WHOA, YOU’RE TALLER IN PERSON. AND LIKE SCARY. SORRY, SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN THAT. WOW. ❜

You’re realizing how that sounded; Bruce notices how you cower in fear. Despite his own anxiety driving him up a wall. The least he could do was say thank you, or show his appreciation. It takes him a few moments to say anything. He can hardly hold eye contact, but it eventually comes out.

❛ I (…) I APPRECIATE IT. ❜

Well. You definitely didn’t expect him to sound like that. His response was so soft you couldn’t even tell if he was directing that towards you. It was so quiet he might as well been talking to himself⸻ and before you could even ask him another question, he’s gone by the time you look up.

Introvert much?

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Bruce Wayne Masterlist

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fluff🌺  Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS:

Neon Gift 🌺❤️‍🔥(Robert Pattinson! Batman) the character is really angsty emokid with eyeliner riding a motorbike and soundtrack is Nirvana, so maybe something dark and heavy and of course smutty alone time with Batman? Neon colors appreciated😍😍😍

Boots & Coat ❤️‍🔥 May I request some hot quickie in his Batcave, i believe he would enjoy if his gf surprise him in one of the gloomy days! Maybe some coat and boots with nothing underneath it or idk 👀👀

DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠

Stupid Man 🌺🌩️Bruce uses 'code 4' while encountering the Scarecrow resulting in defining the next moments that would shake up his family and his future

Library Make-Out🌺❤️‍🔥

Bittersweet Tea 🌩️(post break up theme)

Midnight Visits🌺

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Imagine Damian with a sunshine reader but they sometimes turn into a whole new person with jay from the kubz scouts humor "I swear if this doesn't work I'll take off ___ headband wipe my ass with it put it back on bird box style and give myself pink eye" 😭

Anyway good night/morning

Don't forget to eat and drink well!!

Strange Kind of Humour

Older!Damian Wayne x Reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: you hate bugs (sorry for the people who love bugs) warnings: lots of bad words. a/n: thank you so much for the request and sorry for the late reply, but this is really funny and had to educate myself on that kubz scouts guy (i watch him regularly now) i couldn't really come up with such creative words, but this is the best i could do. enjoy! (divider)

75% of all animal species are insects, most of them have wings and can fly. However, only some of them look cute and are not some venomous, useless, shit-eating bastards who are trying to get into your stupid tent.

Someone came up with the perfect idea to go camping for two days, to finally relax from everything that‘s been going on. Bruce was very reluctant but eventually got blackmailed into joining, not having any possible way of working since you are all in the middle of the woods, trying to have fun.

Damian invited you to go with him, actually begged you, so he isn‘t alone with all these lunatics, and you‘ve never been more happy to join a trip. He knew you would be happy to join, just hoping the others won‘t make fun of him for being ‚soft‘ for you, or else this small family-trip will end up in a blood bath. So far, it‘s been actually pretty good so far, you had something warm to eat, having grilled together, had something vegetarian for Damian. You talked a lot with Dick and Tim, noticed the funny dynamic between Jason and Tim, befriended Cass, and made fun of Damian together with Duke as he failed to build the tent up three times.

Now, that everyone has tents and sleeping bags, you can all take a rest for the day and sleep. If it weren‘t for the bugs trying to fly in and annoy you both. Damian didn‘t seem to mind much, just curling himself up in his sleeping bag so no one can disturb him. But this is enough.

»I swear to god, if these little shits won‘t stop coming in, I will pull my fucking hairspray and a lighter out and burn this whole fucking forest.«

You mutter under your breath, but Damian caught wind of it. Of course he did, he is laying right beside you. His head shoots out of the sleeping bag, looking at you in the dark.

»How about we don‘t?«

Damian suggest quietly, slightly puzzled on how annoyed you are over such a thing. It‘s just bugs.

»I‘m sure they will leave us alone sooner or later. Just put your sleeping bag over your head.«

he tells you, hoping to soothe you down and hope that you won‘t be disturbed for the night. It‘s just one night, after all.

You huff out and do as told, shifting to put your sleeping bag over your head, curled up like him in his own bag.

zzzz

You want to punch that mosquito right then and there. Normally you would just brush it off and try to get it away, but this won‘t do anything since you are literally in a forest, camping. It only makes sense for bugs and insects to be there.

It‘s silent for a moment before the high-pitched buzzing starts again, already done with this.

»Look, I‘m gonna get this thing, track its whole family down and behead every single one-«

»Okay, how about we relax and open the tent for a moment so it can fly out, hm?«

He finally sits up and wraps his arm around your shoulder to keep you seated in your sleeping bag. No matter how many times you curse and say out-of-pockets things like that, it always surprises him when you do that. It usually happens whenever you are annoyed or upset, and right now he is pretty sure you are exasperated. Which doesn‘t make this any better.

Eventually, he managed to lay you back down to sleep after a few moments, having some annoying buzzing around, but it‘s nothing too bad. You both fell asleep after a while, getting woken up later in the morning by a scream. Damian immediately goes to check, peeking out of the tent and cursing himself for not bringing his katana to the trip.

Looking out, he sees Tim at the small camp fire, holding a stick out at a… racoon? What the hell is a racoon doing here? Don‘t they live somewhere else than.. oh, well.

Damian sighs out, getting out of the tent to help him out.

»Relax, Drake, they don‘t bite… usually.«

Tim looks to Damian briefly before staring back at the racoon wide-eyed, still pointing the stick at the innocent animal that was just curious on what these big people and tents are.

»What do you mean ‚usually‘?!«

Damian finally gets fully out of your tent, keeping his eyes on the racoon while approaching it slowly. He ignores the literal panic radiating off of Tim, gently shooing the animal away, but it just stays on its spot, not budging.

It‘s then, when you wake up, having caught some of the conversation between the brothers. You finally peek out of your tent as well, gasping as you see the racoon. The round, fluffy animal keeps its dark eyes on Damian, just sitting relaxed while your boyfriend is trying to shoo him away.

You didn‘t gaps out of disgust, but out of surprise and awe. There‘s not a lot of days you see a cute racoon, a stubborn at that as well. Sure, it‘s a wild animal, but why does it look so squishy then?

Coming out of the tent, you stand beside Damian, trying to get closer to the animal. Damian tries to get you behind him, but you have none of it.

»You need to step back, this is a wild animal— «

»No! Look how cute he is, I just want to pet him quickly!«

You protest, definitely blind by hthe cuteness of the racoon. Damian huffs out, turning to look at you.

»What are you? Snow white, or something? Just step back, let the poor thing run away.«

You whine in protest, really wanting to pet the racoon still. The small argument wakes the rest up as well, having thought it‘s nothing bad at first, but hearing that you both won‘t stop bickering, it made the others curious.

»What the hell is up with you guys?« Jason grumbles tiredly from his tent, still sitting in it but peeking out. Damian turns his attention to the voice, sighing out in defeat. Eventually, you take the opportunity to get closer to the racoon while Damian distracts himself with Jason, arguing with him now.

You get disappointed as the racoon runs away from you, not havnig been so brave after all. With a small huff, it all falls back to normal, the trip comes back to what they consider normal, eating some breakfast before playing frisbee all together. It turns into a competetive game, everyone including Bruce, trying to catch the frisbee and make the other drop or not even catch it in the first place. It‘s a bit chaotic, but it‘s never not chaotic with them. Not that you complain, you really like their dynamic overall and that they are all so sweet to you, although they do tease Damian a lot whenever he is affection with you.

A bright orange, plastic hits your side, yelping at the sudden collition. Of course someone had to accidently hit you with the frisbee. Duke gasps, immeditialy feeling guilty and really wants to sink into the ground at how embarrassing it is. Especially with how Damian glares at him, looking ready to kill.

»Damn, you trynna get me killed?!« You shout before this could escalate, throwing the frisbee back to him, landing at against his stomach with a grunt.

The tension melts away and you proceed to play the game until one finally wins, making the rest groan in defeat.

a/n: how you enjoyed it!!

[redhead-batgal]

Type: Two-Shot (Part Two: Here)

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Damian Wayne/ Robin

Word Count: 8,605

Content: Bad y/n family, self-depreciative thoughts, language, violence, a little bit of gaslighting, angsty times, (a tiny bit of venting), "good" coping/reactions, tiny bit of batfam slander and aged up reader/Damian to 18yrs.

(P.S: I may or may not have another part planned that will make all of this make more sense but like it works fine as it is if y'all like it on its own)

Y/N: your name, V/N: Vigilante name, S/n: Sister's name, Favorite Color: f/c

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

Family is supposed to be one of the most cherished and important things in life. They are supposed to support and love you; they are supposed to make you feel safe and happy. They are supposed to lift you up and help you know that despite your flaws you are loved, wanted and cherished.

And yet, yours never did.

Born the middle child you were quickly forgotten. Especially since your younger sister captured everyone's attention. Captivating every person who passed it seemed as if she had some kind of aura that pulled others in.

It seemed as if she was good at everything and nothing you could ever do would even make you half the person she was. She was kind, and friendly, wickedly intelligent and charismatic. A perfect person some would say, and it made you feel like utter shit for not being able to do a third of what she could.

Maybe that was why you turned to a life of vigilantism. Maybe you hoped that doing good, even with no thanks for it, would help you feel worth... something. Worth anything. That even though only you would know, you would be able to burn at a fraction of light your sister burned at. Helping others, saving people merely because they needed help and making a difference made you feel... alive.

But your sister was still there. She was still shining and bright, happy to steal any friend or crush you ever had. Or at least that's the way it seemed, the way her eyes would glint as she laughed twirling her hair chatting with your friends. A vengeful look spilling from them. But she always shed tears upon seeing your distraught face, she seemed to feel guilty though you felt a hidden smile behind her tears.

Sisters are sisters, your parents would say, she will be mean and tease you, but you will always love each other.

You began to wonder if all of it was a lie to make you feel as if she cared about you when it was clear she didn't. She seemed to hate that you had become content that you were different then her, that you proudly held your head high as people pointed out your differences. But she didn't know the way you truly felt. It was strange, she was so perfect that you were jealous, but jealousy was a nasty color on anyone. And you had heard too many times that you were selfish and self-centered to let others know how you truly felt about her.... well, some people knew.

Your partner, Damian Wayne- the mother fucking Robin, knew how you felt. He was your best friend after all, he knew all of your secrets and deepest feelings and wishes as you knew all of his. Ever since you had moved to Gotham and decided upon some extracurricular nighttime activities, only to be caught and brought in by Batman; your life had gotten a bit better. Your sister was miles away in your home state living a happy and pampered life as she went to college while living with your parents.

Regardless, it was hard to forget such emotions- to remove them completely. In fact, it was harder to forget how you were treated since you were so much freer. You were unhindered by your family's expectations and your sister's growing shadowing which you were so used to living in.

Now out of that shadow- out of sight of the throne your parents constantly put your sister on you were better able to see that she wasn't perfect at all... well at least she wasn't as nice and kind as she seemed to be. Away from your childhood home you were able to see all the jabs, torment, disparagement and diminishment you received from her. How she would mock your accomplishments and steal away those who helped you rise passed your insecurities regarding your place against hers.

It seemed whenever you got enough footing to climb out of her shadow, she'd push and knock you back to the depths of it.

You had, as many do, told your best friend of such revelations. But, as humans do, you made it clear that your thoughts probably had bias. An accumulation of years of neglect and belittlement made it hard to be sure what you felt was the truth. Which made it even harder to convince Damian you were right, but you didn't mind fighting such a battle if it meant someone else could see the sister the way she truly was... or at least the way you saw her.

"Ugh," You groaned tilting your head back as you turned your phone off leaning against the gravel covered rooftop, "Miss Perfect is at it again."

Across from you, Robin raised his head. His face stony as he scoffed looking around once again, doing the job you were supposed to be doing at the moment, patrolling.

Silence beat between the two of you and you rolled your eyes, swirling into a somersault before bounding over towards him. He stayed quiet and you began walking circles around him.

Throwing your voice down at least three octaves you spoke again, "And what exactly did that horrendous sister of yours do this time?"

Robin blinked at this, pausing before turning to you, his facade finally cracking as he lifted an eyebrow.

"What exactly was that supposed to be?"

You grinned leaning in a bit closer to him before batting your eyes and replying, "My impression of you being a caring friend and contributing to this important conversation."

This time the corner of his mouth twitched as he hesitated. Then he turned eyes scanning the horizon. You shrugged accepting the small victory as you slid into a perch your back pressed against his.

"I'm going to just keep talking and if you don't respond I'll respond for you, okay?"

He grunted in reply, and you took that as a yes before leaning your head, so it rested against the back of his shoulder.

"S/N found the old diary we shared and posted pictures of some entries on all of her socials. Entries- selective, that only I wrote- embarrassing entries."

Silence beat once again between the two of you and you took that moment to take up your impersonation once again.

"Do you think it was involuntary? Or that she had a particular reason for doing such an atrocious thing?"

You felt Robin's body tremble and twitch as he shifted, and his chest shook. Smiling softly, you looked up at the night sky, partially missing the thousands of stars you could see back home.

"No, I think she did it on purpose. As I have told you before, it is her life's mission; along with being the exact image of a perfect daughter, girl and person, to make me feel like shit." You paused shifting so your weight was slowly and surely pressing upon him, "It was- it was probably because of the pictures I posted last week of me, Steph, Cass and Barabra."

He was motionless this time and still silent. Fiddling with your belt you waited a moment more before replying to him.

"You must have a rather elevated opinion of yourself if you think she would care about something so minuscule y/n- no V/n."

This got a soft- barely audible laugh from him. Taking the second it escaped to bask in the sound and feeling of his body shuddering as he tried to hold it back and you let out a breath. It was relaxing being here with him, talking half to yourself while he listened. It was peaceful and quiet, something you found your cherished. However, the quiet would not last long, so you continued on.

"You see Da- Robin, I would agree with that except she not only was one of the first people to like it, but when it started getting a lot of likes she commented, 'So proud of how far you've come! I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month!'. Now I have a question for you, is that something someone who doesn't give a shit does?"

This time he moved, shifting so your sides pressed together and faces nearly touched. His brow was furrowed and gaze dark. You blinked in surprise but merely tilted your head.

"What?" He muttered something tense in his voice.

"She commented on my photos of my girl's day with Steph, Cass and Barabra, 'So proud of how far you've come. I hope you'll be home for my ceremony next month. Kinda seems off right?"

Robin scowled as he looked away from you, but not at the city, no he looked at the rooftop, his jaw locking. You weakly laughed and turned so his side was pressed against your back.

"I don't know about you, but that sounds fairly passive aggressive. And I know I'm not the world's greatest detective or his kid, but... that does not seem like something you'd comment on your sibling's post."

Robin grunted and you shut your eyes for a moment, happy tonight was tranquil enough that you could feel the quiet. Every moment that pulsed between the two of you was raw and unimpeded. You could hear every one of his breaths, feel the expanding and contracting of his chest and feel the heat of his body pressed against yours fighting off the chill of the night.

"It is... odd." He finally replied.

You snorted, opening your eyes to see him looking at you, his brows creased with concern.

"That is an understatement if I've ever heard one."

He rolled his eyes snorting as you sat up yawning. Stretching out you faintly heard the beep of the coms, a voice crackling in your ears.

"V/N, Robin, if everything is clear you two are good to go for the night."

Patting your mouth, you nodded making brief eye contact with Robin before you stretched some more, "Alright, thank you very much Oracle!"

Oracle's voice instantly replied, "Of course, get some rest Y/N."

You smiled, shooting Robin a wink as you snagged the small bag you carried with you throughout patrol.

"Yes mam! I will see the both of you tomorrow!"

A soft laugh echoed through the coms before everything went silent, you turned and bounded down the stairs to the closest empty room, changing back into your civilian clothes and placing your vigilante gear into the bag.

Now appropriately dressed, you began your trek home. Which luckily for you, was less than ten minutes tonight. Taking in the night air you bounced and twirled walking down the sidewalk before you arrived at your complex.

Walking inside you began your assent to your apartment; sure, nothing could ruin your night. However, as you made it to your floor you found a figure with bags standing nearby your door.

"Uh, hi," brow furrowed, you slowly approached the figure, "can I help you?"

At the sound of your voice the figure snapped up stepping enough into the dim light that you could see it was a girl- a familiar girl who perked up at the sight of you.

"Y/N!"

You felt the blood drain from your face as the girl raced up and pulled you into a hug. Your head began to spin as you fought to breathe normally.

"What are you doing here?" You weakly asked as the girl released you grinning brightly.

"I'm here to surprise you silly!" She laughed as she pulled on your arm, "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever, so I wanted to come by! I thought it'd be fun to hang out and see how your life is here. Maybe you can give me a tour of the city and introduce me to your friends."

You nodded half understanding what she was saying, still in shock at the sight of her, "Uh-huh."

"Y/N, come on! It's late we should get inside... speaking of where have you been?"

"Work- uh work I work nights most of the time. I usually get back around 4ish," You began, walking towards your apartment.

She nodded in understanding as she pulled her suitcase towards your door waiting for you to open it. Hands slightly shaking you put the key in the lock and twisted pulling down on the handle. With a weak flourish you gestured to the apartment.

"Welcome to Gotham... S/N."

"I'm so excited!" She squealed, wheeling her things in, "we are going to have so much fun."

"So much," You weakly echoed heart dropping as you almost saw your new life going up in flames.

______________________________________________________________

It was unfortunate to say the least that not only was your sister in town, but she wanted to meet your friends. You didn't have many friends outside of the other vigilantes and were nervous to explain that you were friends with the Waynes and never said anything about it.

Part of you wanted to brag and shove it in her face, but you knew that not only was rude but would do nothing. If you were lucky, she would be acquaintances with them in the end... if you weren't.... let's just say you wouldn't be able to have your fun little chats on patrols anymore.

You knew that Damian would never abandon you... at least intentionally. You wanted the two to meet so he could see how all you spoke about was true! So, someone else could tell you, you weren't insane. So that you could feel a sense of relief that you weren't making all this up. But you feared- you so deeply feared he'd choose her over you. You were terrified of being abandoned again for your sister.

Regardless, you knew you had to introduce them at some point because there was no way Damian was going to allow you to not speak to him for that long.

So, after an extensive two-day tour of Gotham and pointing out all of the best places to shop, eat or just relax (despite how few there were) you made your way to the Wayne manor for a brunch of sorts with everyone. To introduce your sister and finally get over with the fear.

Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel you tried to listen to your sister's ramble, but your stomach was churning.

"Sooo," She said, "After this brunch I'm going to go and meet up with some online friends... will you be okay without me?"

You tensed, but slowly nodded, "Oh, yeah! I should be okay. I probably can talk with my boss and ask for some time off so we can continue to hang while you're here. And I run a couple of errands."

S/N nodded, shooting you looks as you pulled into the Wayne's neighborhood. She furrowed her brow as you reached their driveway and the gates opened. You began to go up the driveway when she let out a slight gasp.

"Wait, is this... is this Wayne manor?!"

You nodded your chest tightening, "Uh yeah. I thought I told you I'm friends with the Waynes."

Her jaw dropped as she stared in awe at the manor. You wanted to laugh at her expression, but your nerves were wound so tight you feared it might end in you crying.

"We- we are having brunch with the Waynes?!"

"Well, a few of them. Bruce is busy at work and I'm pretty sure so's Tim. Dick is in Bludhaven. And j-" You stopped yourself recalling Jason wasn't legally alive, "and I think the rest should be joining us, along with a friend I think."

S/N did not move, her eyes wide as you pulled to a stop parking. From here you could see Alfred standing in the doorway. You gave him a quick wave and he returned it with a smile.

Unbuckling, you turned the car off and slid out of it. S/N scrambled to get out as you closed your door. She blinked a few times, shaking her head as you locked the car and began your way to the front door.

"How- how are you friends with the Waynes?" S/N whispered, having clamped onto your arm.

"Uhhh long story, I mean technically work. My boss- he uh... he put me on a project, and I ended up meeting Damian and we hit it off pretty well and I ended up meeting the rest and the same happened." You spat out your prepared lie, noticing the way she tensed upon you saying Damian's name.

"Damian... he's the youngest right?" She muttered as you began to climb up the steps.

"Yup!"

"Miss Y/N, Miss Y/N's sister, it is a pleasure to have you dine with us this morning." Alfred said, holding the door open.

You smiled and gave him a nod, "Alfred this is S/N, S/N this is Alfred Pennyworth he is the butler here and the one who actually runs things."

S/N giggled as she released you to give Alfred a curtsy. He gave you a look as she was bent, and you shrugged. The two of you then walked into the manor a clattering of shouts and chatter coming from the dining room nearby.

"Y/N IS HERE!" A delighted Steph bellowed before bouncing around the corner and bolting towards you.

S/N stepped back as Steph flung herself at you, with surprising ease you caught Steph with a laugh. She grinned wildly as a few more people rounded the corner.

"Looks like all your training is paying off!" Steph giggled as you set her down.

She then paused seeing your sister and smiled, holding out her hand, "Hi! I'm Stephanie but you can call me Steph!"

Your sister's expression instantly lightened, and she took Steph's hand shaking it.

"I'm S/N, Y/N's sister."

Steph released her hand and nodded, "Nice to meet you."

A few beats of silence occurred, and you noticed Cass, Duke and Damian, all approaching you.

"Yo, Duke!" You said almost subconsciously, "It's been a while, how are you man?"

You walked towards Duke giving him a quick side hug as he laughed. You felt Damian's eyes bearing into you, but you ignored it.

"I'm good! You know how it is, school and work. It has been a while, what about you?"

"I'm good, pretty much the same," But you paused as you turned to see your sister shooting you daggers, "My sister is in town. Duke this is S/N, S/N this is Duke! He is one of the chillest people in Gotham and the best writer I know!"

Duke flustered slightly as your sister smiled bounding towards him.

"Hi! It is so nice to meet you! I'm S/N!"

Cass waved hello and you waved back as Damian stopped at your side. Your nerves were twisting tighter as your sister looked to you, her eyes brightening upon seeing Damian.

"That's Cass, she is amazingly talented... oh man if she had one, I would take you to see one of her ballet shows."

Your sister nodded clearly not interested in Cass, she eyed Damian and you noticed Duke and Steph sharing troubled looks.

"And this is?"

"Damian Wayne, it's a pleasure to meet you S/N."

He took the hand she offered out and shook it. You were still as Damian's arm brushed past you, your heart racing. Silence seemed to buzz in your ears before Alfred cleared his throat. You blinked and turned.

"Uh, Is it time to eat alf- Alfred?"

Alfred nodded and you turned towards the dining room feeling Damian's not so subtle grip on your arm, "Why don't we go eat?"

Steph instantly grabbed onto your sister and began asking her questions. She shot Damian looks before caving in and allowing her to guide her away. Duke and Cass followed behind them leaving only you and Damian.

"Are you alright?" He muttered.

"Yeah yeah," You weakly replied, "I- i just wasn't expecting her."

He looked you over his brow furrowing before he nodded, "Alright."

The two of you stared in silence before you felt your face flush.

"Uh, okay let's go eat!"

You felt his grip leave your arm and you hurried to the dining room to find only two seats open. One next to your sister and one next to Cass, across from your sister. You sat down next to her watching as Damian took the seat across from her.

"So!" S/N instantly said, "I'm assuming you've heard all about me so why don't you tell me about yourselves?"

"Actually," Steph chirped, smiling, "Y/N doesn't talk about you guys often... none of us do. It's kinda like an unspoken rule. After all, Bruce adopted half of them and I- let's just say family troubles aren't fun!"

You had to resist a laugh at your sister's outraged expression and quickly drink from a glass of water to hide your amusement.

"Oh," S/N faltered, shaking her head, "that's okay! I just thought that Y/N would talk about us, I mean we used to be so close...anyways uh what do you guys like to do?"

You turned so she wouldn't see your eyes roll, it was clear- at least to you- she was trying to get the other's pity. Make them feel bad for her and be angry at you. Fortunately, they did not fall for such weak tricks.

"It'd be weird if she did when we have a rule about it but okay!" Steph continued, "a little about me hmmm, oh! I love sports and waffles; my favorite color is purple, and my favorite vigilante is Black Bat!"

Your sister slightly flinched before putting on her sweetest smile, "Oh that is so cool! Though... I don't know a lot about Gotham's vigilantes."

This time Duke chimed in, "That's okay, just pick someone you know. As Y/N said I'm a writer, I enjoy poetry and music; my favorite color is probably yellow, and my favorite vigilante is The Signal."

You had to practically shove your fist into your mouth to stop this laugh, your sister nodded looking a little deflated. She then turned to Damian- hesitated and looked at Cass.

"What about you?"

Cass blinked a few times before signing, "I like ballet, black and Spoiler is my favorite."

Your sister blinked a few times and you coughed to hide a laugh before you watched Damian pipe up.

"She speaks sign language, she just said she likes ballet the color black and that her favorite vigilante is Spoiler."

Something in you slipped a bit and your smile nearly dropped as all the laughter left you. Your sister grinned leaning on her arm as she nodded.

"That is very cool. So, you know, sign Damian?"

"All of us do, even Y/N." Duke replied with a shrug.

Your sister turned to you with a surprised look on her face, and you flushed feeling your stomach drop.

"I-I-uh learned so I could talk to Cass. I- I ended up accidentally catching her while practicing and it- it was ... she was so amazing I wanted to compliment her. She understood but- I wanted to talk with her, you know? Be able to hear her words and see her interpretation of the dance."

Something flickered in your sister's eyes, and she nodded her smile looking a little forced as she turned back to Damian, her brow raised.

"I do believe that you should go first, after all it is poor manners to make our guest go last."

She blinked twice before her smile brightened and she nodded, "Oh of course! That makes so much sense. Uh well... I'm in a little bit of everything. Fashion, art, music, science, math, sports. My favorite color has to be blue and uh... Batman is my favorite vigilante."

You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Damian made eye contact with you, and you could see the amusement in his eyes as you pressed your hand to your face.

"Okay, Y/n it's your turn!" Steph declared, causing you to instantly drop your hand.

"What?"

"It's not fair if you're the only one who doesn't do it!"

"Uh," You hesitated, feeling your sisters' eyes locked on your face, "Okay I guess."

You looked up meeting Damian's gaze for a moment before you looked at everyone else.

"I uh... I like Gotham, my job, spending time with you all and uh my favorite color is f/c."

Silence followed and Steph leaned on the table locking eyes with you.

"What about your favorite vigilante?"

Part of you stirred, tempted to say your own vigilante name when you had a sense of guilt wash over you. It wasn't really fair to your sister, was it? She only knew Batman and- and and now you were trying to find a reasonable way to pick Robin, weren't you?

You shrugged, "Uh I guess I'd have to say Robin since, despite the many different ones, he's just as consistent as Batman."

Steph narrowed her eyes and Damian looked at you, surprise faintly on his face. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed your sister rolling her eyes. She then leaned forwards, capturing Damians attention.

"Your turn Baby Wayne."

You winced at the nickname catching Steph and Duke miming gagging motions and shook at your held back more laughter.

"Alright," Damian said, "I enjoy art, it is so intriguing to see the different depictions of peoples inner most toils. I also revel in animals and taking care of them. While I find picking favorites childish, I will partake out of fairness. Green would have to be the most suitable color and..."

Damian stopped, looking at you for a moment before he looked at your sister.

"I would have to say V/N seems the most competent out of the newer vigilantes."

You felt a very faint blush rise on your cheeks and your sister giggled in delight.

"Oh really? That is so interesting. I love art too! And green is such an amazing color."

Damian nodded as she smiled coyly, the door to the kitchen swinging open as Alfred walked out with trays of plates in his hands. You noticed how your sister watched Damian look at Alfred, his brow slightly furrowing, before she darted up.

"Oh Mr. Pennyworth let me help you with that."

You noticed Damian's eyes following her as she approached, also Alfred's tight grin as he opened his mouth to protest but decided not to stop her from taking a tray from his hands and setting it on the table.

You knew how much Alfred prided himself on being able to take care of the household. Down to even setting food out he found it... offensive when people forced help upon him. He didn't mind if you offered, you recalled once offering to help wash dishes and his soft nod. But when people force their help- he had told you it seems as though they are saying he is not good enough- too old or incapable of carrying out his duties.

Wincing you dug your nails into your palm as your sister continued to "help" Alfred out. Thanking your lucky stars once everything was set out and she finally returned to her seat. With that, you all began to plate up food and dig in.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was around 5 pm when your phone buzzed, the familiar name flashing across the screen with all the familiar words. You were needed for patrol. Your sister had been out almost all day, her internet friends showing her their favorite spots and getting all the "tea" about her brunch at Wayne manor a few days before.

You were a tad frustrated she was using your friends to gain popularity but decided she could dig her own grave. However, upon receiving the text you knew you had to tell her you wouldn't be home until late at the very least. After all she was staying at your place... even if she was never there.

You sent a message back essentially saying you'd be there for patrol, then you shot your sister a text right before you left.

Y/N: Hey! I just wanted to let you know my boss called me in tonight. Apparently, they don't have anyone else who can cover my shift. So, I'll be getting home late.

She did not reply but you could see that the message was read, sighing as you gathered your things and headed to the cave knowing you couldn't expect to be able to leave your stuff around here for much longer.

With your bag hoisted over your shoulder you headed to Wayne manor. Finding Tim on the bat computer and Oracle on your coms.

"Looks like I've got double the help tonight, " You weakly joked.

Neither of them replied so you got dressed, commed up and headed out, half expecting Damian to already be out there. You, however, were surprised to discover that he was not at your normal spot. So, you assumed he was out chasing a criminal or watching from someplace else. Bouncing around the rooftops you looked for any sight of him.

You could have sworn you spotted a flash of his classic colors in the alleyway and descended to investigate. The alley was musty and wet, probably from the rain the night before. Looking around you didn't see any sign of Robin.

"Looks like fifth street's clear," You muttered into the com.

As you readied yourself to go back to the rooftops a figure lunged at you from the shadows, slamming you onto the ground a glint following him as he did.

"Oh shit!" You hissed your finger sliding from the com as a frantic voice began on the other end.

The figure- no, the thug raised the glint, and you realized it was a knife. Fear raced through your veins, and you instinctively pressed your distress signal. The adrenaline coursing over you and drowning out the voices on the other end of the coms.

"Come on you stupid bitch," The thug snarled, "just die already!"

He went to thrust the blade down, but you yanked your leg up and shoved him off of you. Scrambling to your feet as he fell backwards. A snarl of sorts escaped him, and you watched as he rose blade ready in hand. He swung at you again and you barely dodged, your brain beginning to wonder where the hell Robin was and why he wasn't here to help you already.

While in your stupor of thought the thug lashed out again, his blade barely catching your arm, but slicing right through your gear and causing a burst of pain and blood to spill from your arm. You blinked, shaking your head as you tried to focus.

The thug readied himself for another strike and you kicked outwards, sending your foot directly for the knife. You felt the impact into his hand and heard his cursing as the knife went flying backward. You landed and felt your lungs screaming as the thug cursed louder.

Was Robin even coming? What the hell was going on, wasn't he your partner? Wasn't he supposed to be there for you in the most dangerous of moments and you there for him?!

You turned, hoping to get to a more open area so that... that if he was actually coming Damian would be able to see you easier.

However, something grabbed your hair yanking you backwards, you stumbled passed the thug heart racing as you scrambled to your feet. You backed away a bit more hoping to catch the thug off guard. You looked over your shoulder then turned back.

A fist swung out hitting your face, you recoiled chest heaving as the heartbreaking realization you were all alone dawned on you. He wasn't coming.

Reaching up you grabbed onto a fire escape ladder and swung yourself forwards kicking the thug in the chest and sending him skittering backwards. You half climbed up fingers latching onto some round you could not see, and hands grabbed onto your legs. In an act of frantic reaction. You release your grip on the latter allowing the thug to pull you down. however, as you went you slammed the object into his head hearing his faint grunt before slamming into the ground. The heavy thud noise told you he was down for the count.

Spitting out blood, you rose to your feet wobbling as the thug twitched on the ground. Something hot burned in you, and you swung your foot forwards, straight into the thug's gut causing them to go stiff.

Chest heaving and breaths more like pants, you wiped the blood away from your mouth as you heard frantic voices over the coms.

"V/N! V/N are you alright?"

Heaving out a sigh you nodded slowly and answered, "I've been better."

"Thank god, backup will be there soon, hang tight."

"I have a question."

"Uh yeah?"

"Where the fuck is Dam- where is he?"

There was silence and you felt your blood begin to boil. They knew, they knew where he was, but he didn't have the decency to tell you he wasn't going to be going out tonight.

"He's-... he's out." Tim stammered.

"I'm shocked, you are covering for him. Since when would that-" You faltered as you pressed a hand to your bleeding nose.

Oracle voice broke through your rising haze, "He's on a date with your sister."

"What?"

"He's on a date with your sister. He didn't think he'd be gone for so long. He told me he'd be back in time." Oracle remarked calmly.

You swallow, feeling something in you begin to shatter, “My sister?"

Silence followed on the coms, and you closed your eyes for a second remembering her coy smile at him just the other day. And-and how his eyes followed her.

of course... of course he's with her.

"Where are they?" You whispered feeling your throat begin to ache.

"Y/N I don't-" "Where. Are. They?"

"At the restaurant just past the park, the little Grecian style place."

Your- your favorite restaurant. They were at your favorite restaurant. You bite your lip, feeling your hands curl, nails pressing into your palms.

"Y/N don't do anything stupid."

You hissed, shaking your head, "I'm not, I just... I just wanna see it with my own eyes. ... since when, have I ever not been levelheaded?"

Despite what you had said your heart shattered as your mind screamed. Over and over again

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it

Trembling, you waited before bounding towards the restaurant. You skittered to a stop on the rooftop across from the restaurant. It took less than a minute to see them sitting at a table near the windows.

The coms went silent, and you stared through the window. Watching the two laugh together. Damian oblivious to the time and your sister's eyes glinting as she pressed a hand onto his arm. It was a tactic you knew well and noting Damian's back- his body language, it was working. You should have known, when it comes to your sister… you will never be the first choice.

You should have known she will always be chosen over you. You took in a shaky breath.

"Y/N... are you okay?"

"D-don't tell him." You whispered feeling something warm slip down your face.

"What?"

"Don't- act like this- tonight, never happened. Please. Pretend this didn't happen that I don't know... please." Your voice cracked as you moved away from the restaurant.

There was more silence than a clicking sound.

"Tracking data and video footage are gone. Com records will be shredded once tonight's over." Oracle remarks, "what do you want us to tell him?"

"Tell-tell him that you told me he wasn't coming, and I decided to take the night off. Tell him that Nightwing and Hood went out and everything was fine."

"Alright...you should probably go home Y/N."

"Okay... I'll see you all tomorrow." 

______________________________________________________________

Curled on a couch in the Wayne manor library, your eyes darted towards the door, you weren't even attempting to pay attention to the book in your grasps. You knew- knew Damian would be in here soon. And then- then you would be able to ask him what he was doing. To see if he'd try and keep it from you.

At first you weren't even going to mention the other night but... your sister had bragged- bragged about her date. Claiming that Damian had told her all sorts of awful things he thought about you. And to prove it, you should ask Damian if the two of them went out. While you knew what she said wasn't true. Damian wasn't the type to badmouth someone behind their back. Instead, he'd say it to their face, and you'd never heard anything actually awful from him. And to make it all worse, your sister declared as she left, she would be coming back after her ceremony. That- that she had things-people who she couldn't leave behind. That you had no idea what to think of, but you were unsure of whether what she said was the truth. Unsure and uninterested.

However, part of you was .... curious. Curious as to whether or not he'd tell you. He'd be honest and say that he liked your sister, that he was attracted to her. And even though it would be painful to hear, you wanted so desperately wanted him to. You hoped and prayed and begged fate, the universe and God for him to tell you.

You didn't want to lose yet another friend... no, no despite how much it hurt to think of now. Damian was so much more than a friend.

It should have been obvious to you. With how much you craved his presences and adored his smile. How you took almost every opportunity to lean against him and hear his heartbeat. How your heart would flutter when his hand brushed yours or when he said your name. God, were you always this sappy?

Groaning you pressed your face into the book, of course you just had to notice these feelings when your sister came.

"What did that book ever do to deserve, you slamming your face into it?" A familiar voice asked causing your head to snap up.

You swallowed meeting Damian's eyes with a weak laugh, "Nothing... I'm just- it's been a long week."

Damian nodded before sitting down, right next to you. Before- before your epiphany, you would not have realized how close Damian was in a setting as simple as this. And with how you were sitting it'd be hard for him to not be sitting that close.

"I concur." He replied opening his sketch book.

You shifted shooting him a few glances, part of you hoped he'd just tell you without questioning. Another part just wanted to stare at his face for a while. To take in his presence and relax. But you couldn't. Not with all these questions and worries bubbling at your mind.

"What do you wish to say Y/N?" Damian remarked finally looking up and directly into your eyes.

You froze feeling your entire face flush as you dropped your book and stuttered.

"Oh! I- I-uhm... I was just wondering what you were up to the other night patrol got called off. Usually, you asked me to come help you with some of your sketches but that night-" Before you could even finish, he interrupted you.

"I was with Colin and Jon. They wished to spend time together since we are 'friends'."

Something bitter was suddenly on your tongue as you recalled him sitting across from your sister at the restaurant, the image of his back searing int your mind.

"Really?"

"Yes, what did you find yourself doing?"

"Just reading," You mumbled eyes dropping as you felt the air leave your chest.

He was lying. Lying to you.

It almost seemed as if the world came crashing down around you as his words- his lies blared over and over and over again in your mind. A burning was in your throat, and you found yourself struggling to breathe as a single question repeated over and over and over.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Was it because he had... he had feelings for her? If so, why couldn't he just be honest? Was it because he was scared of the way you'd react? Did he not trust you? Was it because your sister was telling the truth? She was coming back to Gotham because of Damian? Were they- were they going to be in a relationship? If so, why was he hiding it, why was he lying?

Your head spun with questions and worries as your heart shattered in your chest, the realization crashing down on you. She did it again. She had taken another person from you.

You in took sharply and Damian placed a hand on your arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Uh? Oh yeah, " You lied blinking slowly, "just tired. I really wasn't expecting S/N to come."

"Maybe you should get some rest." Damian softly replied.

You nodded your mind screaming as your heart raced. You- you couldn't take this anymore. There had to be a change. Something-something had to be different.

Rising slowly, you picked your book up and set it on the couch absentmindedly waving goodbye.

"I'll see you later." You muttered as your heart jumped to your throat.

"Yes, of course... shall I tell Kent and Wilkes you say hello?"

You froze in the doorway of the library as a plan began forming in your mind. You looked over your shoulder seeing Damian's eyes locked on you. You smiled and nodded,

"Of course."

With that you walked out of the room, down the hall. Then- then you were running, running down the stairs and to an office. Panting you bit your lip and squeezed your fists.

With a heavy breath you pushed the door to the office open and made eye contact with none other then Bruce Wayne.

"Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked his brow furrowed slight concern on his face as he took in your disheveled figure.

"I wouldn't call this meeting a pleasurable one," You softly began before raising your chin, "Mr. Wayne, we really need to talk."

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The air was fresh, and you took in a deep breath hoping to admire the beginning of a new day, unfortunately that was not in today's cards. Your phone buzzed and you swallowed seeing his name flash across the screen. Slowly letting the air leave you, you answered and pressed the phone to your ear,

"Hello?" You mumbled, only to hear Damian's prompt inquiry instead of a greeting. "You are acting rather irregular as of late, is there something that has been disturbing you?"

"No, no I'm not and I'm fine... unless you know of something that might make me act strange?"

"I do not understand what you are speaking of. Are you implying there is something I have done to make you act irregular?"

You went silent grinding your teeth as you shook your head, resisting the urge to pull your phone away from your face, "Nevermind... why did you call?"

"I was curious as to why you have been avoiding me. And before you go on blathering that nonsense that you are not, I know you are."

"Why does it matter?"

"You are always saying that we are...how did you put it? Ah yes, best friends. Am I wrong in saying such acquaintances should keep in contact and even spend time together?"

"You're not wrong in saying that best friends do that."

"Then what am I wrong in saying? That much is evident by your choice of words."

"That we are best friends."

"Pardon?" Damian voice sharpened causing you to swallow.

"I'm not your best friend Damian... at least not anymore. I-I don't consider us best friends."

"Then what exactly am I to you now?"

"That... that is what you are concerned about? Not why I suddenly changed by mind or that it might have been because of something you've done?"

"Y/N, if you wish to tell me something, say it. I do not care for you beating around the bush as they put it."

"You lied to me Damian." You calmly stated feeling tears building up in your throat.

He went silent before replying his voice trembling just enough to tell you he was lying. "What on earth do you mean?"

"You're lying again..." You paused closing your eyes, "Damian, I know you too well for that bullshit to work. You lied to me about what you were doing the other night. I know you were with my sister... I know you were, on a date with her."

"I-" Damian began, before stopping

There was more silence, and you squeezed your hand into a fist, silent and painful tears spilling from your eyes, "You betrayed me. I-I should have known you were going too, that you would. Everyone- everyone always does... they always chose my sister over me. They always decide to put her first even if I was friends with them originally."

"I do not understand how going out with your sister is betraying you."

"That's the best part Damian, it's not. But lying to me about it, helping feed into my sister's taunts and torments-"

"I never fed into that, I would never Y/N. This- this is all a- a misunderstanding."

You ignored him and pressed on, "Abandoning me when I needed you most, when my life was in danger... to be with my sister at a place- a place I showed you... that is one of the most utter betrayals."

Damian went quiet and you squeezed your eyes shut finally, finally letting him know what actually occurred that night.

"I went on patrol that night, I got ambushed and attacked and and- I waited for you." You heard your voice crack as your crying spilled over into your throat, "but you never came. God, I felt like such a fool, especially when I found out you were with her. I feel like such a fool."

"Y/N I-"

"Do you know what makes this all-worse Damian? Do you know what hurt the most? What burns so deeply it hurts to even fucking breathe?"

He was silent on the other end, and you continued, half sobbing as you did,

"I actually thought that you'd come, I actually thought that you cared. I actually thought that you- that you would be different and that- that-"

You took a slow breath, "I actually thought you might return my feelings. I thought for once- for once my sister couldn't take something -someone I love from me. Yet here we are."

Damian in took but you blazed forwards knowing what he was going to say, you'd heard it all before too many times.

"I know- I know!" You seethed, "She's not just anyone and it makes me wonder, what- no who am I then? Who am I too you Damian?"

He didn't reply and you hiccupped pressing a hand to your face so- so thankful you decided to do this over a call instead of saying all of it in person.

"I know who I am, even if you don't know who I am to you. I am not the quiet girl who I use to be." You muttered looking up towards the rising sun, the pit in your stomach both growing and weakening, "I will not sit aside as my sister tramples over everything and takes what remains. And I am definitely not the girl who is going to stay friends with, let alone partners with someone who knows how I feel about my sister and chose to... and chose her. You chose her over me. Despite all we've been through you lied to me. And-and what hurts the most is had you told me... had you told me the truth? I wouldn't have cared. But you hid it and tried to make it seem as though you were on my side. You- I- I love you, Damian. Actually, and truly love you. In a romantic way. And had you told me the truth- had you not lied... let's just say I wouldn't be leaving Gotham."

"What?!"

"I, am leaving Gotham. I already resigned as a vigilante.... she is planning on returning after her ceremony and I-I can't live with the sight of the two of you together... not- not with feeling what I feel." You in took a breath hoping that this heart wrenching- this heartbreak would be quick so that in- in your new home you'd be able to start fresh.

"Where will you be?" Something almost sounded frantic in Damian's voice, but you must have been imagining it.

"I will be leaving, going somewhere my sister has- well to quote her, 'have been to enough for a lifetime.' You don't need to worry I won't try and hold this over you... in fact after this call I'm getting rid of my phone."

"I will- I will not stand for this!" Damian snarled his voice cracking on the other end, "you will stay here."

"You don't control me Damian... if fact. If I'm being completely honest after all of this- after what's happened. You mean nothing to me." The lie was bitter on your lips, and you bit your tongue to hide your sobs.

"Y/N... forgive me. It's just I-...You don't understand- please. Please, He sounded so desperate it made your heart ache in a different way, but you couldn't let him get to you, you'd come so far, "Please allow me to explain. I beg of you."

"No," You softly replied digging your nails into your palm, "No. I won't hear any explanations. I won't listen to your honey coated lies because I'm sick of it Damian. I am sick of being used and disposed of. I'm sick of being the second choice, I am sick of being thrown away the second people find 'something better'.

"I made a mistake, please."

"Are you sure it was that you made a mistake and not that you were caught lying?"

Damian went quiet and you had to press your hand to your mouth to stop more cries from escaping.

"Goodbye Damian, despite all that's happened... despite all you've done, I hope you have a good life."

"Y/N no please I-"

You ended the call before you could hear the end of his sentence. Removing the sim card from your phone, you took in a breath then threw your phone into the nearest trash can.

Pressing your back against the complex's wall you buried your face into your hands and sobbed. Letting all of your emotions and feelings out. It was a matter of seconds before someone was hovering over you and you looked up to see your new roommate's concerned face.

"Are you okay Y/N?"

"Yeah, " You nodded wiping the tears from your face as you hiccupped, "I'm... I'm much better. Thank you... seriously, thank you so much Jon."

Jon Kent sighed with a weak nod as he gave you another look over.

"Of course, I'm always happy to help out a friend... especially one who is willing to help me cut my rent in half."

You weakly laughed before rising to your feet, wiping all the stray tears from your face.

"I'm happy to have a place to stay."

Jon nodded again looking you over before he turned towards the city, "How about I give you a tour to get your mind off things?"

"Tour? hmm, yeah that sounds good. Let's do a tour."

"Alright, but first," Jon smiled as he gestured to the city, "Welcome to Metropolis Y/N."

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @thomasbeloved @instabull @zvtanna @daemonnix96 @krswrites @thefallingstarlights @masset-fotia @neon-scenery @ssak-i @legendarylearner18

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Soft!Dom Battinson x Fem!Reader HC

Pairing: Battinson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A little overprotective Bruce, tiny bit nsfw

Type: HC

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Bruce as a soft!dom kind of? I will probably revisit this.

Notes: Shut up

-Ok so like we saw in the movie, Bruce is definitely protective of you, kind of to a dangerous extent. Whether or not you want anything to do with him, he’s absolutely feral when anyone seems to bother you, even in the slightest. 

-He always has to keep an eye on you, truly because he cares and doesn’t want anything to happen to you. He’d track you down in seven different ways, two of which you were unaware of.

-Of course, he’s Batman, but you’re his weakness, so your saving comes first, always. He’d absolutely appear when you least expect it to save you. So much so that you kind of start to get a little cocky with it, knowing he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, even if you were mad at each other.

-Because he kind of lives in a constant state of fearing that something will happen to you, he will do anything to keep you home. In fact when you first established your relationship, he opted for sleepovers constantly.

-He went as far as buying you a whole wardrobe and toiletries to keep over at his manor in hopes to drain your excuses to leave.

-Speaking of which, there’s times when he promises to come home at a certain time, or take you out somewhere before sunrise and finds you half asleep on the couch waiting for him. Nothing feels worse than that to him. 

-He picks you up and carries you back to the bedroom, no matter how tired and weak he feels. Bruce would help you get undressed, tucking you into bed in hopes you’d still be asleep by the time he finished getting home and climbing into bed next to you.

-There’s times when he knows he has to be out as Bruce in meetings, but opts to do it over zoom, only to have you lay your head on his lap as he overhears faintly the rest of the men speak of the enterprise.

-He makes it a habit to rub your head as you lay on his lap, waiting for the call to be over along with him.

-Once it is, he lets you straddle him and thanks you between kisses. 

-Bruce loves to see the difference in your sizes, not by much, but enough to see his hand almost be the size of your face. He has a habit of grabbing you by the jaw to kiss him when he’s overwhelmed with how much he loves you.

-You’ll catch him staring a lot. No matter where you’re at or what you’re doing.

-He cherishes the time spent with you, making the most of it. He knows it’s hard to be with him sometimes, seeing all the bruises, cuts and broken bones he comes home with wasn’t easy for you to see. He promises you it doesn’t hurt and that he’s been through worse, but his heart absolutely shatters when he sees you tear up.

-Sometimes he contemplates quitting the mask when he sees your fingertips trickle over his wounds. 

-You’d absolutely be his weakness. It’s so obvious.

-Absolutely would get you a little station in his batcave, you could color while he practically lives there, investigating whatever needs his priority at the moment.

-”Baby.” or “princess” becomes your new name.

-He’s absolutely intoxicated by the way you feel, once his hands start to travel your body, he’s hooked.

-Neck kisses, jaw kisses, forehead kisses, shoulder kisses, hand kisses. His mouth is just everywhere. 

-At the times he is home, he would help you get dressed, only because he wants to show you he loves you and maybe this would be an excellent excuse to touch you.

-Lots of leg and thigh kisses when he’s helping you dress your bottom half.

-Would stop what he’s doing to tie your shoe, even if you have to place your foot on his expensive suit pant, he just dusts it off. The last thing Bruce wants is to have you trip over. 

-Lots of hair pulling when he’s in you. His favorite thing is to pull your hair back into a ponytail to see your face.

-Always worried if he was too rough with you, even if you reassure him. 

-Honestly just wants to make you his trophy wife. He doesn’t want you to lift a finger, only keep him company and love him in return.

-Spoiling you with materialistic things are a given, purses, jewelry dresses, skirts, shoes you name it. Not cars though, because he would insist on driving you or having someone assigned to be your driver.

-Yes you can cuddle on his lap while he’s on his chair in the cave deciphering.

-His heart melts upon seeing you in his clothes, half asleep and looking for him after he wandered off.

-Literally unravels when his hand is around your neck and all you can whimper is his name. He just wants to leave hickies all over you to compliment the new necklace he got you.

-Will make you his rope bunny if you asked and wouldn’t mind keeping a few pictures of you for memories.

-Sticks his thumb into your mouth to suck on when you’re being too loud for his liking. “Shh princess, those noises are mine” Leaving you no time to catch your breath as he’s chasing his high.

-Maybe I should go on.

[tomhollandisabae]

hidden feelings - bale!bruce wayne x reader

masterlist

fandom; dceu

summary; after trying so hard to push you away, bruce cannot help but confess his deepest feelings to you

warnings; angst, mature language, fluff

words; 2.5k

a/n; this is the third time i'm posting this because it's not showing anywhere 😭

please send me your requests !!❣️

You and Bruce had been friends for many years. To be honest you, Bruce and Rachel had always been inseparable, but you and Bruce had an even more tight connection. So, when his parents were killed, you were the shoulder that he could cry on. You would spend so many hours trying to comfort him and show him that there was so much more out there, show him that he deserved the whole world. 

As the years passed by, however, your feelings for him changed drastically- from being friendly to more romantically. You always admired Bruce; how emotionally strong he was, how smart he was and in general everything about him. So, it is fair to say that when he disappeared you broke down.  

You felt as you had just lost your whole world. You'd always go to the Wayne Manor and ask Alfred if he had somehow come back, yet his reply was always negative. Until one day, when he had finally arisen from the dead. 

It was the happiest day of your life. Nevertheless, you realized that he had changed in so many ways. He had become more muscular, more serious and his whole demeanour was different. 

Sooner or later, you also caught up to the fact that he was hiding something away from you. So you comforted him, but it all ended up in a huge argument. He tried to shut you out of his whole life saying that he had no time for old friends and games now, that he had to focus on his company and other... women.  

That day he had broken you in so many ways. You tried to talk to Rachel, yet she told you that she had somehow cut of contact with Bruce too. Later on, she admitted to you that he was romantically interested towards her. She told you that she felt really bad about it, but you reassured her that she had nothing to feel bad about, after all it wasn’t her fault. 

He had made you depressed. You thought that he had finally broken you completely, until one day when you realised that there was something left of him inside your heart still.  

You were at the Wayne Manor, because apparently you were invited to his birthday party. Turns out Alfred had sent you the invitation. But you really hoped that you had never attended. The image of him with a beautiful woman; tall, slim, brunette, that was a perfect match for him, broke the last pieces of your heart that were left. They were dancing, making people look at them in awe, while you were standing in a corner of the enormous room, trying not to cry and make a fool of yourself. 

Now he had completely broken you. 

You couldn’t stand watching him with another woman for even a second more, so you run away trying to get as far away from him as possible. You didn’t notice that you had led yourself to a room that looked more like an office. A piano was placed at the far end and you walked towards it. You were indeed a very exceptional pianist and Bruce was always making sure to always remind you of that. 

You run your hands on the keys, starting playing his favourite song. You purred your whole heart on that song, tears running down on your cheeks, sobs leaving your soft lips. You took out your frustration on the piano keys, playing random notes, until you heard a thud and the bookshelves in front of you moved. 

You were left in shock, but decided to walk towards them pushing lightly. 

A long dark hallway appeared and you followed wherever it was leading. A few moments later you were in a huge white- modern room.  

You had no idea what this place was and why it was so well hidden. You walked up to a desk in the middle of that room and looked at the screen. There were many symbols that you didn’t understand and you leaned down to take a better look. However, without realising it you had pressed on a button and a big sound was heard from behind you. 

You slowly turn around to see what it was, but what you saw left you speechless. 

Batman's suit. 

Of course you had heard about the Batman. Who hadn’t heard about the Batman in Gotham? 

But why was Batman’s suit in Bruce's manor? Unless... 

Your thoughts were interrupted as the entrance where you came from opened and in came none other than Bruce fucking Wayne. 

Once he saw you, he stopped at his tracks. 

“y/n” he exclaimed your name in shock. 

“What...what is that?” you asked while pointing at the suit. 

“How did you get here?” he walked up to you. 

“By accident, I didn’t really mean to. You know how much I love playing the piano and there was one in y--” he interrupted your rumbling. 

“Are you a spy?” he raised an eyebrow while looking at you with abomination. 

You looked at him with wide eyes. He really had thought that you would ever betray him? 

“Me? A spy? To spy on who, Bruce? You? You really think that after everything we’ve been through, I would have backstabbed you like that?” you complaint. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while, you’ve probably changed.” he said and you huffed a sarcastic laughter. 

“May I remind you who was the one that wanted to end our friendship?” you raised your eyebrow. 

“So that gives you a reason to spy on me? Who are you working for?” you looked at him in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You were the one that pushed me away, I was trying to help you. You've...” you bit on you bottom lip to stop your sobs “you treated me as if I meant nothing to you, as if our whole childhood was just a dream and that fucking broke me.” a tear rolled down on your cheek. 

“You broke me, Bruce. There's nothing left of me anymore.” you said in a whisper. 

“And now... now you have the nerve to accuse me of such thing? After everything? Yes, I should be hating you, loathing you, but I don’t... I never did. Instead, I...” you stopped yourself before saying something that you would regret. 

“Instead, you what?” he walked closer to you. 

“Forget it” you turned your head, so that you wouldn’t be facing him. 

“Tell me” he demanded. 

“Why should I give you the satisfaction?” you looked up at him with sorrow “you don’t deserve to know anything. You don’t deserve to know what I've been going through because of you. You don’t deserve to know how I feel. You deserve nothing.” you saw sadness filling his eyes, but he huffed out a breath and shook that feeling away. 

“What are you doing here y/n? you weren’t invited.” he said afterwards. 

“Are you still blaming me for spying on you?” you exclaimed “but just to let you know, Alfred invited me, he thought that we could’ve a nice reconnection, but he was clearly wrong.” he sighed. 

“y/n, you can’t say anything of what you saw here to anybody.” 

“After everything I told you, you still really think that I would do such thing to you?” you wiped your tears away and he finally lifted his head up so that he could look you in the eye. 

However, the sight of you with puffy red eyes, arose a deep feeling within him that he had to feel for such a long time. His eyes soften and his shoulder fell in realisation of what he had caused. You looked so broken; indeed, he had ruined you. But why? Why would you let it phase you that much? You were the one that was giving him hope every single time and yet now here you were in front of him, completely hopeless. 

He hated himself for that.  

You were the only one, apart from Alfred, that was there for him at his worst. Not even Rachel was. 

And how had he thanked you for that? By destroying you. 

“y/n...” he whispered your name and placed one of his hands on your arm. 

“no...” you tried to back away from him, knowing that any kind of physical contact with him would end you, but he stopped you. 

“What have I done to you?” you saw in his eyes that he was hurt, but why? 

“Please Bruce...” you tried to get out of his grip, but failed. 

“I thought...” he started saying but took a deep breath as he got even closer to you and placed his palms on both your cheeks with a frowned expression. 

“I thought that back then I had made the right decision by letting you go. Trying to protect from all this, but I was so wrong. I was so hurt, trying to hide away my feelings was making things even worse. But what I did to you... I thought you’d be okay, that you’d leave a happy life without me, meet someone, get to know him like you know me, date him, marry him, have children...” you interrupted him. 

“No, no, I could never do that. No, there will be no one for me anymore... not after you” you whispered the last part while looking down, hoping for him not to have heard you, but he did. 

“Why?” he asked and you finally looked up. 

“Because I love you Bruce” a single tear run down on your cheek “I have loved you so much, for so many years. I was waiting so patiently for you to come to me, because I knew that you’d always come back, but once you did... everything had completely changed.” you confessed. 

“What had changed?” he asked you confused. 

“You had changed, Bruce. Not only that, but as I was trying to help you out with whatever was going on, you were pushing me away, until one day when you told, straight face, that you wanted to do nothing with me anymore and that you had other priorities” your voice broke towards the end. 

“Yes, that was true.” you looked at him in disbelief “and would you like to know what my first priority was and still is?” he questioned you and you looked at him. 

“You were, you are and you will be forever my first priority. Till the day I die, I'll be trying to protect you. I'm willing to risk anything for your safety, y/n” he admitted. 

“Why then? Why did you let me go?” you asked in despair. 

“I told you; I thought it was the right thing to do. I wanted to protect from any danger that Batman’s reputation would cause you, but I was so damn wrong. I should have never done that, because as much closer you are to me, so much more I can protect you and...” he paused “and because it hurt so much being away from you.” he bit his bottom lip while trying not to let his tears spill out. 

“Bruce...” you placed one of your hands on his that were still on your cheeks. He looked at you. 

“Why are you with all these women?” you asked. 

“Because I was trying to let go...” he replied. 

“Let go of what?” 

“Of you” he finally said “I wanted so bad to forget everything about you; your beautiful eyes that were shining every time you were happy, your beautiful smile that never ceased to not make my heart speed up, your intoxicating perfume, your way of always finding the right words to say, everything. I even try that with Rachel.” 

“Did you succeed?” 

“Not even close” he slightly smiled. 

“Bruce...” 

“I love you y/n. I love so damn much and I don’t know why it took that long to tell you, but I'm glad I did now. Even though I wished I could tell you first.” he chuckled and you bit your lip. 

“Kiss me” you said while looking at him. 

“y/n...” he tried to say but you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. 

“Prove to me that you really love me.” and that he did. 

Without wasting any more time, he pulled you towards him and his lips finally connected with yours in a very long-awaited kiss. You immediately lost yourself in the kiss. Chills run up your spine, your legs started trembling and your heart was about to burst out of your chest. But so was his. Bruce wrapped his own arms around your waist, biting on your lower lip asking for entrance, while he was backing you up against the desk behind you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and he started exploring it as your fingers tangled themselves in between his soft hair.  

His hand went even more south, on the back of your thigh as he hoisted you up on the desk making you spread your legs so that he would get between them. He pressed his whole body against yours, while you were feeling your lips going numb. As you had started running out of air, he disconnected his lips from your and started kissing along your jaw and down on your neck. 

“I love you.” he said between kissed “I love you so much” you threw your head back at the beautiful sensation. 

“Bruce...” you moaned out his name and in a nick of time his lips were back on yours, encaging you in a bruising kiss. 

“Master Wayne...” you suddenly heard a voice and Bruce immediately turned around to see none other than Alfred standing at the entrance completely speechless. 

You immediately pushed Bruce away, feeling embarrassed, while you jumped off the desk. 

“Alfred” Bruce exclaimed. 

“Your guests are requesting for you” he informed him while a mischievous smile made its way on his face. 

“Yeah, I'll be there in a minute.” he said and turned back to you when Alfred left “where were we?” he smirked at you, but you pushed away. 

“We were about to go back to the party because your guests are expecting you.” you smirked at him. 

“Well, I am with one of my guests now, am I not?” he raised an eyebrow while grinning at you. 

“Let me remind you that Alfred was the one that invited me” you told him. 

“it’s my birthday, though...” he pouted. 

“Okay then, birthday boy, if you go out there now, I promise you that you’re in for a long night tonight.” you winked at him. 

“Shit y/n, you can’t do this to me” he groaned as you started making your way out of the bat cave. 

“Watch me” you challenged him as you walked away while swinging your hips from side to side. 

“fuck” you heard him while running up to you. 

“you’ll regret that after the party” he said. 

“we’ll see about that.” 

[firemenenthusiast]

gif by @/cinemagifmaker

this scene goes crazy the way he portrayed fear…. like god damn thats fear over there. even got ME scared from seeing his face. i know christopher nolan saw him doing this scene and was like, i need this man to be in all of my movies

[simpforfandoms]

Here with me

a/n: I got my wisdom teeth out and I’m high on pain killers rn so I don’t know what this is also it's been like a year since I've last uploaded I've just haven't had the motivation whoops. Also requests are open so please request I'm running out of ideas.

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader (probably could be read as gender neutral)

summary: reader got broken up with by a text of all things

genre: angst, hurt with comfort, tooth-rotting fluff at the end

word count: 2665

warnings: language, not proofread

masterlist

“you’re nice and all but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

You’re heart drops. You read the text over and over again. Guess he lives up to his name. What kind of person ends it over text? You don’t know how to respond. A million thoughts at once fill your head. Do you respond with a whole ass paragraph begging him not to leave you? Do you call him? Do you run over to his work? What the fuck do you do? Your finger hovers over the call button. If you call him would he even answer? What could you do to salvage this relationship? It wouldn’t be the same if you could fix the relationship. Doubt would fill your brain. More doubt than you already had. In retrospect, you should’ve seen this coming. Dick Grayson is a beautiful human sent from the heavens above. And you? Well, you’re just you. It was stupid of you to think that a guy like him could ever love a gal like you. You check the time.

5:48

You know Dick can see that you read the text for almost six minutes now. You freak out and reply with the first thing you could think of.

“Okay”

He reads it almost instantly.

And just like that, it’s over. Almost a three-year-long relationship. Down the fucking drain. It’s funny it seemed like only 2 hours ago he was telling you how much he loved you and missed you. Where did you go wrong? You’ve done nothing but been there for him. You’ve been a good girlfriend. Maybe not the best. Definitely not Barbara. Barbara. Her name brings a funny taste to your tongue. A pit in your stomach forms. She’s everything you’re not and more. He probably reconnected with her and realized that he’s better off with her. Oh my fucking god why can’t you be better. Be better. Be fucking better. So many words that you want to say to him. Please being the most frequent one. You want to cry. Scream. Anything. But you can’t. It’s like you’re paralyzed. You’re hands are shaking as you find the caller ID and quickly push it.

“hey what’s up?”

“me and dick broke up?” You say it almost like a question.

“What oh my god! What happened?!?! I’ll kill him”

“Babs I need you to be completely honest.” You say gulping, “did you have anything to do with it?”

“No of course not,” she says

Of course she didn’t. She might be Dick’s ex but she wouldn’t betray you. A part of you hates yourself for ever thinking that.

“I’m coming over right now” you hear a muffled voice in the background but before you could ask she hangs up.

Weird but you didn’t have time to focus on that. You just got dumped. You can’t say you didn’t see it coming. You don’t know what hurts worse, being broken up with or believing that for once you were worthy of love. People say that “you accept the love you think you deserve.” If that’s true than why the hell were you and dick together. Dick is the most perfect boyfriend. Maybe it was all a mask. Maybe he didn’t actually love you. A small part of you hope that its not true, but the logical more realistic part know that it was all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy, but a fantasy nevertheless. You wish you could cry. You feel like everyone else in this situation would cry. Maybe it’s because you’re still in denial. You’re still hoping for Dick to say this is some sick joke.

•

1 hour earlier

“You don’t understand I love her!” Dick retorts.

“Dick you don’t understand. Y/n’s a civilian. Telling her, hell even dating her puts her at risk. I am ordering you, not asking you, to break up with her.” Bruce says.

Dick takes a long exaggerated sigh. Leave it to Bruce to turn innocently declaring that he was going to propose into a full-blown argument. His brothers sit and watch patiently. As if they’re waiting for a lion to attack. Barbara, on the other hand, is waiting for a chance to speak. After all, you are her best friend, she has to do everything she can to prevent you from getting hurt. By that, she means mentally. She has no doubt in her mind that Dick can protect you. Honestly, she found it heartwarming that Dick had come to her for the approval of the engagement ring. She only regrets suggesting that he tells Bruce.

“Bruce I’m not a kid anymore you can’t boss me around.”

“Think about all the people we have lost because they knew our identity. If you truly loved this girl you would set her free.”

Dick mutters something under his breathe. Barley auditable. Something along the lines of “I don’t want to”

•

knock

knock

You don’t bother to answer the door you know it’s Barbara. You know she has a key.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry!” She says as she runs over to hug you.

“It’s okay it’s not like your the reason he broke up with me.”

You notice a falter in Barbara’s face. She showed a tinge of guilt but as quickly as it appeared it went away.

“I know but I’m still sorry” she says.

“Y’know it’s funny Babs I thought I was gonna marry him. For a moment there I thought he felt the same. It was stupid of me. I turned a blind eye to him coming home late all the time. It shouldn’t have been such a big shock. I guess in the back of my mind i always knew there was someone else. I guess I should pack up my shit and get the fuck out of here. I don’t think I can handle looking into eyes without crumbling.” Tears begin to fall.

Barbara does nothing more than squeeze you tighter. A reassuring comfort that it’s not your fault. You know she knows something you don’t know and only wish she could tell you, but you also know that maybe she won’t tell you to keep you safe. You think about, if she knows that dick broke up with you because of someone else, maybe she’s just saving all the pain that comes with feeling you’re not enough. But she also has to know that you already feel your not enough. You pull away from the hug to look her in her eyes. Searching for answers. You grab her hands in yours.

“Babs if you know something I don’t please tell me, I know you want to protect me but please I assure you that I already have self doubt and if you tell me that there was for sure someone else all that could bring is closure. So please for the love of god tell me.”

She suddenly pulls away breaking eye contact.

“No! It’s not that- it’s uh. It’s all my fault Y/n. I’m so sorry.” She says in a hush voice covering her face in guilt.

As if your heart couldn’t possibly break it more, it feels betrayal.

“Babs were you the other woman?” You say not understanding.

“Oh my god of course not.” She turns her head to look at you. “I would never ever do that to you”

“Then how is it your fault?” You question confusion mixed with sadness on your face.

She turns away again.

“It’s just- oh god. I promised dick I wouldn’t tell you.” She closes her eyes and gulps. “A week ago Dick came to me asking to help pick out an engagement ring for you. He was going to propose.” She then looks at you searching for any reaction.

“He was? I don’t get it then why would he break up with me?”

“I convinced him that he should tell Bruce and all, thinking that Bruce would want to know. It ended up turning into a big argument. In the end Bruce convinced him to break up with you.” She sighs once again looking at your confusion ridden face.

“I still don’t get it. Bruce loves me. Why wouldn’t he want Dick to marry me?” You question.

“What Dick does for a living is dangerous.”

“I’m fine with him being a cop, he knows that.”

“No, it’s not just that. What we all do for a living is dangerous. Bruce likes you, he does. At first, he didn’t think you and Dick would last so he never thought that your relationship would get to the point where Dick would have to tell you the truth, but Dick had other plans. So when Dick told him he wanted to marry you, well-“ She stops taking a deep breath, “Bruce knew that marrying you would mean Dick would have to tell you the truth. So he told Dick that the only way to keep you safe was to break it off and if he truly loved you he would set you free.”

“How is any of that your fault?” You ask.

“Well after Dick stormed away I followed him to convince him not to break up with you. But he wouldn’t budge. He believed it would be selfish to continue your relationship while putting you jeopardy. He sacrificed his own happiness for your safety. He said he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something ever happened to you. I knew he wouldn’t budge so I at least tried to get him to break up with you in person but he knew if he saw you he would never be able to do it. You called me after it happened Dick begged me not to tell me anything but here we are” She finishes with tears in her eyes.

“None of that is your fault, Babs.” You say as you pull her into a hug.

She chuckles dryly, “I’m the one who should be comforting you.”

You both laugh through the tears.

“I still have one question though. What does he do for a living?”

Barbara stops laughing and contemplates telling you. She eventually stares you in the eyes and says barley above a whisper “he’s nightwing”

Though you barley heard it, you’re eyes widened. Suddenly everything made sense. The late nights. The excessive bruises. The leaving dates early. It was like the final piece of the puzzle.

“Where is he?” You say though you already know the answer.

You get up from the couch, grab your keys and are almost out the door til you hear babs say “Y/n please don’t tell him I told you”

You stop for a moment and say, “Thank you Babs” and rush out the door.

•

“Dude I can’t believe you actually listened to the old man” Jason says.

“I don’t need your shit Jason.” Dick mumbles on the Wayne manor sofa.

“I’m just saying, you’re in love with her. Everyone can see that.”

“That’s why I had to!” Dick yells, standing up.

Jason stands back, seemly pushing Damian in front of him as if it’s his turn to talk some sense into Dick.

“What Todd is trying to say is, it’s absurd that you of all people would take Father’s advice about love seeing how miserable he is.” Damian states.

“Ya, Bruce doesn’t know shit about relationships, even I can see that” Duke chimes in from across the room, not even looking up from his book.

"You wanna know why he can't seem to keep a relationship? Because he lets his fear consume him." Tim says bluntly.

"Yeah take Tim for example isn't he dating a civilian? Benard? Nothing has happened to him" Jasons says.

"Well, I wouldn't say nothing" Tim replies.

"Shut up, I'm trying to make a point." Jason sighs, "He's not dead is he?"

"Yeah, Tim and Benard seem to be going strong," someone chimes in from the doorway.

That voice. Dick could recognize that voice anywhere. They all turn to look at you. Jason is the first one that turns back towards Dick.

"See y/n gets it." He shrugs

"Yeah, I do."

There is a moment of silence. The silence is so loud. The tension so thick. The boys seem to notice this and walk away. Jason gives Dick a look that reads, "Don't fuck this up, lover boy"

When the boys all leave the room, leaving you and Dick alone, you walk towards him. Dick's piercing blue eyes stare into yours. Almost questioning you, as to say "what are you doing here".

"You didn't really think I'd let you break up with me over text, did you?" You smile.

Dick can't help it, he smiles back. Even though it's silent, you both are saying a million words to each other. He can look into your eyes for eternity. He can't believe he broke up with you without getting to see those gorgeous eyes again. But as much as he wants to keep looking, he can't, he knows if he does, he'll come running back to you. He knows if he does that, he'll never see those pretty eyes again. The reality of the matter hits him. He breaks eye contact, turning away and crossing his arms, as a way to say "please leave". You however have other plans. You come closer to him barely an inch away from him. You take his face into your hands and turn his head towards you. He tightly closes his eyes.

"Dick, please look at me." You say.

"I can't," he whispers.

"Why?"

He sighs closing his eyes even tighter. "You know why."

You silently remove your hands from his face, sliding them down to his chest. You sigh, about to remove your hands completely until he untucks his arms and lightly grabs your wrists. He looks down, finally looking into your eyes.

"Please don't go yet," He says.

"Dick I need you to tell me the truth"

You search his eyes for a sign, anything at all. What you find is remorse.

"Y'know I love you" You say

"I know."

"Dick you can tell me anything"

He sighs, "You already know the truth"

"But I need to hear it from you"

He sighs again, this time deeper. He stares into your eyes almost pleading with you so he won't have to say it because if he does it makes all of this a reality. The harsh reality that he'll either have to love you from afar, or put you in jeopardy because of him. He'd rather stay here with you in complete bliss. As long as he's with you he's complete. He can't imagine you gone. Alive but gone or dead and gone. He wishes things were simpler. In another time or maybe another universe, he thinks.

"I'm Nightwing"

You burst you laughing. Making Dick confused, but he couldn't help but start chuckling with you.

"My fiance's Nightwing" You start singing.

When you eventually catch your breath, Dick seems to have an even more confused face.

"What?" You question.

"Fiance?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Well yeah but only if you want to be" You smile sheepishly.

Instead of replying Dick swoops you up and kisses you. Not like any other kiss you've had with him, it was one filled with passion. All of the love left unsaid was poured into the kiss. Any doubt that either of you had was solved. When you finally break apart, you two are panting resting your forehead on each other. Dick casually slips an engagement ring on your finger. To which you pull away to look at.

"Oh, Dick it's beautiful!" You gush.

"You have Babs to thank for that," He says pulling you in for another kiss.

You're the love of his life, and he's yours. You know what you're getting yourself into but ultimately you'd rather die having him by your side than not at all. As long as you're with him you've got a smile on your face.

[pandorasb1tch]

Y/N: yeesh, how do the villains always seem to know where we are?

Dick: y/n did you remember to set your Twitter to private?

Y/N:

Dick: y/n you set it to private right

Y/N:

Dick: y/n

This is based off something I saw a few years ago, creds :)

[devilfic]

❝hard-knock life❞

plot: even with the riddler locked away in arkham, his followers manage to haunt bruce to this day. thankfully, you’re more than willing to help your fiancé tie up all his loose ends... even if they are a bit ridiculous. or four times the riddler’s followers make a threat on bruce’s life and the one time alfred shoots them for it. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: humor, fluff, established relationship, you and bruce are engaged, I use “fiancé” gender-neutrally, generally silly but some angst, serious but cartoonishly awful attempts at violence, guns, excessive use of the word “goon”, based off this post by @emma-d-klutz​. words: 3.5k.

a/n: I just can’t stop thinking about this post

Bruce figures he could look a little more concerned right now.

One goon holds a phone up to his face—so that he can see himself on screen—while two more have his arms arrested in their grip. The comments on the live stream are moving too fast, but he imagines they’re not worth reading.

The goon holding the phone laughs through his mask, clearly amused by Bruce’s lack of emotion, “Look at the little Gotham prince trying to put on a brave face. Won’t be so brave in a minute now, will you?” 

Bruce assumes they’re referring to their comrade in arms a few feet away, readying a pistol, but he can’t look long; he feels a harsh kick to the backs of his knees and he kneels against the gravel. This close to the docks, they could dispose of his body in the river after his swift execution. Was it weird to be offended by their choice? He was kind of offended. Almost as offended as he was when he’d figured out their plan two days ago.

“I can offer you money,” Bruce recites, your idea, unenthusiastically, “anything. Anything you want.”

The goons laugh. The one holding the pistol steps forward and places the barrel against Bruce’s temple. “Anything we want, huh? Why don’t you tell our audience how you should’ve just died when the Riddler gave you a chance? What a glorious death you would have had.”

Bruce wants to tell them that it’s not exactly his fault Edward didn’t make sure he was home before trying to kill him. He imagined that would just anger them more. Bruce takes a deep breath.

The safety on the gun clicks off when a heavy fog starts crawling toward them from beneath a nearby dumpster. Some of the goons exclaim in confusion and the executioner points toward the smoke.

“What the fuck is that?” The cameraman yells, turning to film the steadily approaching fog. It’s thick and moving quickly, starting to crowd around the Riddler’s followers like a dramatic omen. It isn’t long before Bruce can’t see a foot in front of him. His arms flex, waiting for the telltale sound of his namesake.

A sudden chorus of chirping overhead has Bruce ducking, the trigger-happy goon shooting off into the sky as black wings speckle the fog. 

The two holding Bruce still are suddenly forced off of him. There’s the sound of violent fighting in the midst of the fog but Bruce is more focused on the shooter, his position given away only by the bullets he shoots off with reckless abandon. Mapping his position on the docks, Bruce takes a violent leap forward and feels himself collide into him, dragging his much smaller body forward and forward and forward until-

Splash!

Bruce can’t see it through the fog, but he hears the goon hit the railing and fall into the river below soon after.

“Shit, shit, shit! We’ve been ambushed!” The one filming is the last one standing. He scrambles nearby, trying to find an escape. Within the fog, a dark figure approaches him, and Bruce can just make out the sound of their opponent’s nose getting crushed by the weight of the attacker’s palm. The phone falls out of the goon’s hand when he collapses, unconscious. 

Shortly after, the wind carries away the remaining fog and Bruce walks into the clear night where he sees you perched behind the dumpster, giving him a thumbs up over the machine that sputters out white haze. “Did we do it?” You ask, giddy. 

Alfred walks out of the fog next. It was a miracle Alfred could even see in the Batsuit. It dwarfed him. “I believe we did. Are you alright, Master Bruce?”

“Alright” was a stretch for what tonight’s events had done to his mood, though he’s thankful he doesn’t have a bullet-sized hole where his oncoming migraine should be. Bruce is just happy to have pulled this off in the first place. “Peachy,” he grits through his teeth, “is the stream still going?”

Alfred hums, wiping some of the goon’s blood off his knuckles, “No, I think enough has been seen tonight. The GCPD will be on their way shortly.”

That was a relief. Their theatrics weren’t all for nothing. With luck, tonight’s failed execution would serve as a warning to the Riddler’s remaining followers: Bruce Wayne was untouchable, and any attempt on his life would result in the same fate. Maybe now they’d stop trying to kidnap him off the street.

They, in fact, did not stop.

Alfred had taken the necessary precautions to ensure Bruce did not die in the following days after the docks incident, and with the added threat of paparazzi flooding the tower, Bruce was confined inside until further notice. As far as anyone was concerned, Bruce Wayne was taking some vacation time after a “harrowing” threat on his life. It only made sense. No business engagements for two weeks, at least.

This vacation was, of course, not for the Batman.

Bruce had a wedding to be planning for God’s sake, and yet here he was, perched in the shadows, watching as five squirrelly idiots set up shop across from Wayne Tower... to snipe him, they’d said online.

This was the other downside of the Riddler’s fans gunning for revenge on the Batman: Bruce had to spend ungodly hours on their forums combing for new threats on his life. Most of them were half-baked plans too big to pull off, but the few that weren’t were constantly on his radar.

It wasn’t that Bruce was afraid for his own life, though. He was afraid for yours. The Batman could walk off a bullet wound and Bruce Wayne had fortified his body against most attacks. You, on the other hand, were painfully mortal. One well-aimed shot from a sniper rifle and he’d lose you.

“Looking awfully severe tonight, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce cracks a half-smile when your voice crackles to life in his ear, right on cue. You must’ve been getting into position. Bruce makes sure his voice is low enough that the goons can’t hear him from his perch. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

You really, really didn’t. He could easily wipe out these five on his own with only a few injuries sustained, but you had worried over the guns and convinced him he’d need all the help he could get. Even if it was just a measly distraction, “Don’t worry. Batman will protect me.” You sing.

Your shadow passes a window and one of the goons lines up a shot for you. He propels himself down onto the sniper’s back, knocking him out cold.

There’s considerably fewer goons tonight than there were upon his kidnapping, which Bruce finds amusing. Maybe he could get a few hours of patrol in after thwarting this second attempt on his life. Maybe you’d still be awake by the time he got home, and he could pull you away from poring over wedding plans to celebrate a job well done-

Away in his own mind, he isn’t prepared for the butt of a rifle cracking up against the cowl. In the time it had taken him to run away with his thoughts, he’d downed four of them already. He slowly turns. No hurry.

The goon flinches back, eyes wide behind the non-prescription frames slipping off his nose. If Bruce’s ears weren’t still ringing from the hit, he might have went for the temple and called it a night. But again, no hurry.

Bruce grapples the man by the front of his coat and dangles him over the ledge of the building. Softly, he hears you gasp over the comm line, “You’re not gonna drop him, are you?”

Instead of answering you, Bruce gives the goon a good shake, “This won’t end well for you.”

The goon is shivering in Bruce’s grasp, clutching onto his wrist for dear life, swatting at air to get leverage. Bruce extends his arm out further and two voices exclaim this time. “Y-You betrayed him! You betrayed the Riddler!” The voice that comes out of the man is squeaky, almost young. Bruce frowns. “The Waynes will pay for what they’ve done to Gotham!”

“Are those your words or his?”

He falters some, unsure, and obviously it isn’t Bruce’s job to play therapist. He doesn’t know what this kid is getting out of working for the Riddler, what lies he’s been fed. All he knows is that someone had pointed a gun at his fiancé and tonight could have gone very differently if he hadn’t been ready.

But this kid wasn’t the one holding the gun. “I’m giving you a warning: leave the Waynes alone,” Bruce drags him close enough for their eyes to meet, “there won’t be a second warning.”

The goon all but scrambles onto his feet the second Bruce drops him back onto solid ground, having only that second to gather his bearings before Bruce brings his fist down onto his head, knocking him out with the rest of his friends. Tying their wrists behind their backs is quick work, as is piling their worrying amount of weaponry far, far from reach. One quick request to Gordon for cleanup is the icing on the cake.

Bruce is scaling his way down the building when you chime in once more, “You alright, handsome? I hope these guys aren’t getting to you.”

Getting to him was an overstatement. They had to pose an actual threat to get to him, “I wasn’t going to drop him.”

“You were thinking about it, but you would’ve caught him right after. Are you heading out for patrol?”

His lip twitch is the only sign of argument against you because you unfortunately know him well. Bruce slips into the shadow of an alleyway, scanning the street for any other surprises. “Maybe... maybe later. I’m heading back to the tower.”

He hears you make a little noise on the other end, watches your figure outlined in the glass by the lamplight. It’s dark out and you’re high up, but somehow, he feels like you find him down there anyway, “You better take off that suit before you track gutter water through my house, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce can’t help it. He laughs, “I thought you liked it when the suit stays on.”

You had made it a priority, if you were to marry Bruce, that he make time for date night.

Obviously, with being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and Batman, you didn’t expect him to always have time to spare. That was the compromise you’d made long before he’d gotten down on one knee. However, for his sake (”-and the sake of Gotham!” you’d added, just to be safe), break time was a must. An hour at least, maybe two if you were lucky. He didn’t even have to spend it conscious. You’d spent plenty a night with his head on your chest and your fingers carding through his hair, reading a book or telling him about your day.

Tonight would have been the same had you not convinced him to come out in disguises. With a little prompting, you two had had a great night on the town. You’d all but forgotten the hectic past week.

And then you both had walked into the penthouse, giggling through the front door, only to find Alfred lugging a dead body across the living room floor. “He’s not dead.” Alfred assured. A body, then.

Bruce rushes in front of you, “Jesus, Alfred. What happened?”

The butler looks far too nonchalant for the scene, but you do notice the lack of a blood trail.

“I was making tea. Enjoying a quiet night to myself, I was, when I heard glass shatter from the other room. Lo and behold, I find one of these Riddler clowns climbing through the window.”

“Sixty floors off the ground? How’d he even make it?” Your voice is riddled with wonder. Climbing gear attached to the corpse- body shows a considerable effort. You notice as well, after a moment of disbelief, that there’s a barely concealed handgun sticking out of Alfred’s waistband. In all your time living here, you’d never seen a weapon like that in the Wayne household. Bruce’s hatred of guns had made sure of that. “Did you shoot him, Alfred?”

Bruce tenses up too, then bristles when he sees what you’re looking at. Alfred even looks a little sheepish and drops the body altogether to hide it. “You shot him?”

Alfred gulps, “Yes... with a rubber bullet, not a real one.”

“And you do that often? Shoot people?”

“Of course not, Bruce.”

“So you just happened to have a gun on you-”

“Someone was breaking in!”

“-while you were making tea-”

“And the gun is not real.”

“-I can’t imagine what else you’ve got hidden away in this house. What, am I going to find a grenade in the coffee grinder tomorrow morning?”

You inch yourself closer to the incapacitated man on the ground, the bridge of his clear frames caved in on themselves. You can see a worrisome bruise between his eyes. Just to be safe, you check the man’s pulse to confirm that Alfred really hadn’t killed him. Sure enough, he hadn’t lied, but brain damage wasn’t entirely off the table yet.

Alfred scoffs, folding his arms over his ruffled vest, “I don’t use bloody grenades. And I haven’t shot a real bullet in years! Most of the guns I own are entirely non-lethal.”

“Most? How many do you have?” Bruce accuses.

A moment passes. “You’ll never find them all.”

The bickering continues at an even louder volume after that. Bruce is furious that Alfred never told him about the guns and Alfred, the military-bred man that he is, was struggling hard not to just say that he was a grown man who could do what he wanted and be done with it.

As (oddly) endearing as it was to see the father and son bickering, you couldn’t let Alfred get in trouble on your watch.

“Um, Bruce,” you interject, catching both of the men’s attention, “to be fair to Alfred, this guy was carrying a real gun with real bullets. If Alfred didn’t have his weapon, this could’ve gone way worse. He saved the day.”

Alfred, as smug as an English gentleman could be, turned his attention back to Bruce.

The news had slowly but surely sobered Bruce up. One more look at the goon on the floor had dried up all the frustration, leaving him thoroughly exhausted, “...he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“The shattered window is unfortunate, but I can call the repairmen in the morning. I trust you two have nothing as exciting to report.” A shared look between yourself and Bruce has Alfred nodding, discussion supposedly ended. “Very well. Then I shall retire for the night. Unless you’d like to raid my belongings for suspiciously sharp pencils... Master Bruce?”

All the fire in him had been extinguished. Bruce shakes his head and Alfred makes his leave, “What about the guy?” He yells after the retreating butler.

Alfred’s bedroom door shuts shortly after. It appeared date night had officially come to a close.

Bruce had been vehemently against a police detail for himself. It was you and Alfred that really needed it, he’d insisted, but Lieutenant Gordon had a brain that worked like anyone else’s and understood that the man with the hit on him needed it most. And so, much to his chagrin, he’d been hunkered down in Wayne Tower for the last few days, sneaking out as the Bat only when absolutely sure he wouldn’t get caught.

As his future spouse-to-be, you were the one who had to cover for him. But sometimes, no amount of lying could account for his missing presence in the penthouse, and so the Bat had to be put on the back burner until further notice... and it was driving him insane.

The police were in the kitchen, in his study, outside your shared bedroom, and on every floor of Wayne Tower. The media was still abuzz of the latest failed assassination attempt. There were too many eyes on him, it was making him itch.

That’s why, on the rare occasion that you could both pull it off, you helped him into the terminus elevator, helped hide his hair beneath his hat and hood, and sent him off on his bike before any one could question where you and Bruce had gotten off to. Pre-newlywed stuff. It was the honeymoon before the honeymoon, Alfred had joked once.

And of course, the one time you could get him out of the house successfully, he gets kidnapped.

It’s embarrassing standing next to Alfred as the police detail watches the news feed on the living room TV. Bruce was tied to a chair in the middle of the frame, three goons including the cameraman huddled around him and attempting to get a rise out of him. Threats that he’d heard a thousand times over had become stale at this point. Left out too long. If you weren’t so ashamed that you’d unwittingly helped him get kidnapped again, you’d be laughing at the unimpressed look he was giving the camera.

The bright side was that one, they seemed to not have found his suit and two, the goons had dwindled even more in number. Perhaps they were finally giving up?

“Citizens of Gotham, Bruce Wayne has been a hard man to get in touch with. But that doesn’t matter: the Riddler’s righteous justice will be delivered this day!” The cameraman declares, poking Bruce’s chest with a baton. Bruce barely moves. The cameraman sounds as put off by this as you feel, “Uh... any last words, Wayne?”

One of the officers is furiously working with a dispatcher to locate where the video is broadcasting from. Another in the corner is snickering behind her coffee cup. You’re not sure why you relate to them both.

Your future husband looks so done with the situation that you’re reassured he’s in no real danger, but you can’t fathom why he let himself get caught if that was the case. Surely, he would’ve taken them out just fine on his own. There were only three of them.

Another goon nudges his head with the barrel of his gun, yet Bruce does not flinch, “Speak up! The world is watching!”

Wordlessly, Bruce shifts in his seat once, twice, and brings his once bound hands to his front completely freed. You swore you heard a collective gasp across the nation.

The men in the room with Bruce look just as shocked as he reaches for the gun aiming (wobbling) at his head and gently covers the barrel of it with his palm, weaseling it out of the goon’s hand. The magazine falls to the floor shortly after and the gun is discarded across the room. When Bruce approaches the cameraman, the camera jerks back.

The phone is yanked away by Bruce. Before the live shuts off, you hear him speak for the first and only time since the broadcast started, “This is getting embarrassing.”

An uneasy quiet settles over the room after that. When Bruce comes home later that evening, escorted in a cop car, he looks absolutely pitiful. Your open arms are more than appreciated.

It’s been a long few weeks.

Wayne Enterprises was in a tizzy trying to get media under control. First the police, then the paparazzi, and now it felt like he’d gone from slipping from place to place unnoticed to being the talk of the town. It had made being Batman significantly harder, but it had also made him significantly more irritable.

Between you and... well, you, the only thing keeping him sane was currently asleep upstairs. After the last kidnapping debacle, it seemed that all the Riddler’s followers had been scared off, so at the very least, the police presence had dwindled down to a select few. He’d been given the go-ahead to take his own trash out, even. Promised he just needed some fresh air. A few hundred dollars thrown the night guard’s way and he was standing out in the cold at the back of Wayne Tower, in just a “I survived my trip to Gotham!” t-shirt and a pair of boxers, holding a trash bag.

The one Riddler clone standing across from him almost looks too afraid to stumble out of the shadows and recite their spiel. He’d be too tired to listen, anyway.

“Go home,” Bruce grumbles, tossing the bag into the dumpster, making no effort to try to appear like more of a threat than he really was. He didn’t even have mace on him, “I won’t even mention it.”

The stalker waits in the shadows for a few beats, practically shaking, unsure of himself. Bruce stares, unblinking. At the very least, if he took too long coming back up, they’d probably send someone down to check on him. This guy had a chance to get at least one shot off if he wanted. Bruce had survived three at one time, once.

After the world’s most unimpressive standoff, the goon turns around and starts walking home.

It’s been a long few weeks.

taglist: @yikes-buddy​ @alexxavicry​ @moonlightreader649​