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yall-batman-fanfic · 16 hours ago

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Wayne Family Holiday Traditions | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader!Magician

Synopsis: After years of struggling to find the perfect gift, Bruce and Vivian finally perfected gift-giving to one another, and it's something that became a tradition in the Wayne family.

What to give a man who has everything?

That was the question that Vivian Pryor pondered about as she roamed the stores in Gotham’s shopping district for the fifth time that week. She had done all of her Christmas shopping last weekend. Have secured the gifts for her colleagues, for her family in Liverpool, Alfred, (she got him a really expensive bottle of good scotch), and Dick (she got him the video game that Alfred refuses to let the boy have until he completes a whole month of attendance at school). But Bruce…

She had no idea what to give someone who actually has everything, who can buy anything he wanted. He is a billionaire, so getting him something from the mall feels wrong for Vivian. Since she finished her shopping, Bruce’s name – which was at the very top of her shopping list – was the only one that wasn’t crossed out. At first she thought she could just get his gift somewhere in the week, just so she could have a good long think about it, but then that long thinking led to a rut that she can’t get out of.

One of her friends laughed at her saying: “How do you not know what to get your boyfriend?”

Her reply, “How about you get a gift for a billionaire.”

Her friend’s reply? “I’d wrap myself in a ribbon and wait for him at home.”

Vivian already had that idea but she didn’t want to look like someone shallow and narcissistic to think she was a gift already. Besides, holiday sex is different from holiday gifts. Yes, they come separately – well, to her they are.

Now, here she was, roaming around the town looking for something to give him.

Augh! She knew she should have held onto that Grey Ghost toy instead of buying it for him on the spot! But how was she supposed to know that they’ll still be dating until now? She got him that gift during the first few months into their relationship. And she really wanted to get him something that was from his childhood that brought him joy.

Oh, the smile he had that day when he saw the Grey Ghost figurine, and how his eyes lit up when he told her times he would ask his father if he could stay up just to watch the show. She can’t not get him that toy.

Food was the safest option, and she already gave him homemade brownies that he could bring for patrol (at that time, Bruce didn’t know she knew he was Batman and just packed the brownies in a way he can easily put in his utility belt). She can’t give him the same thing again. Right?

Well, after they got back together, she most certainly can’t. It’s gotta be something special.

But what?

What can she give him?

A vacation? Yeah, right—a workaholic like him won’t use that.

Dinner out? They always have dinner out.

The sound of her phone ringing pulled Vivian from her reverie and stopped her from staring at the shop selling Batman merchandise.

It was Bruce.

Great.

“Hello?” Vivian answered.

“Is everything okay, Viv?” Bruce asked, quite concerned with the lack of her usual jolly greeting.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Just doing some last minute Holiday shopping.”

“You already left campus?”

“Yeah, sorry about not mentioning it. But I’m at the shopping district now, maybe we could meet there and have dinner here?”

“That’d be nice. Just send me a place for us to meet and I’ll meet you there.”

“Sure. See ya, Wayne.”

“See you, Pryor,” she was sure he was smiling then.

Maybe she should just take a raincheck on that gift now and try again tomorrow.

Bruce arrived a couple of minutes later and they met at the restaurant that Vivian told him about. Unfortunately, the tables inside were already taken, so they opted for the ones outside, even if it meant being in the cold winter.

“Are you sure you’re not freezing?” Bruce asked her as she held her hot coffee – not warm, hot – and drank it without burning her tongue. And the fact she had her bonnet, and her beige coat.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Vivian asked.

“Where’s your scarf?”

“I… accidentally left it at home, and I was running late so I didn’t bother to go back for it,” she winced as she admitted the childish thing.

Without a word, Bruce got up and moved his seat to be beside her, then placed his own scarf over her neck.

“Bruce, no – you’ll be freezing,” Vivian tried to give it back.

“Trust me, I’m used to this. Besides, I got all the warmth I need,” he wrapped an arm around her.

Vivian hid her blush by drinking her coffee. “You know, I should be used to this kind of weather, but for some reason I never really got used to the cold.”

Bruce smirked and whispered to her ear, “Maybe I could help you warm up a little when we get to the manor?”

Vivian blushed even more and she tried to hide it. “And what about patrol?”

“That could wait. I can’t let you freeze to death,” Bruce placed a kiss on her cheek. She was cold. Really cold. “Why don’t you use your magic?”

Vivian groaned and wanted to hit herself. She’s been so preoccupied with finding him a gift that she forgot about magic! Back then she can use her magic easily and doesn’t need to shut if off to warm her in the winter or cool her in the summer. But with her stopping using magic, it was hard to get those habits back again. Especially when she got the pleasures of air conditioning and a working heater to do the job.

Has she become lazy? Yes, she won’t lie about that. She is a lazy witch, but she’s trying to get back on her feet.

Seeing her reaction, he laughed and said: “That’s why we practice.”

“Oh shut it,” Vivian used a spell and spread warmth around her and Bruce. She was about to hand back his scarf but he told her: “No, keep it. I like seeing you wear my things.”

“Is that so?”

“If only we could have the manor to ourselves, I'd prefer if you walk around wearing my clothes.”

“Just your clothes?”

“Just like that morning where you greeted me good morning,” Bruce leaned down to kiss her. That morning he was mentioning it was one of the days she spent the night at Wayne Manor. Vivian had woken up earlier than Bruce on a weekend and decided to stay in the room and relax a bit. She opted to wear one of his shirts instead of her own, as she asked Alfred if she could have them washed along with the others he was throwing in the washing machine. When Bruce woke up he was greeted by the sight of her looking through his personal book collection in the room, only wearing his shirt and nothing underneath. He knew she had nothing because whenever she would get on her toes to reach up for something at the top shelf, he'd see her bare bottom as the shirt would hike up. They spent the entire day trapped his room that day and when they got out for a late lunch, Dick was bored out of his mind.

“Maybe,” Vivian said back between their kisses. When she felt his hand on her thigh, Vivian placed a hand on his chest and told him that they were in a public place.

“We've done far risky things,” he kept kissing her.

But not out there.

He was only teasing her, she knew, but the anticipation on the what could possibly happen made her heart beat faster.

“Where's the bill? Why is it taking so long?” Vivian muttered when she pulled away but ke kept kissing her on the side of her lips, her cheek, her jawline.

“Impatient?”

“You're making it hard for me to be patient, Wayne,” she laughed.

“Bruce?” A voice of a woman had Bruce stop in his kisses and turn his attention to the woman standing there. She was tall, slender, wore a fur coat, and very beautiful.

“Hi, um…” Bruce began.

“Stacy,” she supplied.

“Right, Stacy. How are things?”

“Same thing, getting modeling gigs for bigger brands – what about you? I haven't heard from you in a while.”

Oh. Stacy is one of billionaire-playboy Bruce Wayne's former flings, Vivian realized.

“Yes, because I'm now with someone — Stacy, this Professor Vivian Pryor. She works at Gotham University. Viv, this is Stacy, she's a model,” Bruce introduced.

Vivian got up and held out her hand to the woman. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The woman looked at her for a moment, taking her in from head to toe, and then took her hand to shake. Did she just judge her right there? Vivian thought.

“I guess you are in a serious relationship,” Stacy said to Bruce. “You’re not really the type of girls he would bring around every night.”

Did she just say she's ugly without saying she's ugly? Vivian raised a brow.

“Right,” Vivian muttered.

“Stacy –” Bruce began.

“Where is that bill? I'll just go pay for our meal,” Vivian got her purse, and when Bruce tried to stop her, she said to him, “I'll be right back. Just catch up with Stacy while I'm pay.”

“Viv –”

Vivian left and went inside where she met halfway with the waiter about to bring their bill and said she'll do the transaction at the counter itself. He didn't mind but it did give off the wrong impression to other customers. After getting their takeaways for Dick and Alfred, Vivian went back out and found Bruce waiting for her by the door.

“Where'd your friend go?” She asked.

“She's not my friend, Viv,” Bruce took the takeaway bag. “Listen, whatever she implied — she's just being mean about –”

“Bruce, I'm fine. Do you really think I'd cry about something like that? I'm an adult woman, I've dealt with people worse than Stacy. So, that won't make feel bad. What I did there was just me getting out of an awkward situation. Okay?”

Bruce wasn't convinced, she could see it in his eyes. He wrapped his arm around her and placed a long and loving kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Viv,” he whispered to her.

A smile crept on her face. It was only a couple of days ago when they finally said their first ‘I love you’ to one another. And it was Bruce who said it first, and since then he would always say it to her with sincerity.

“I love you too, Bruce,” she kissed him again. “Let's go home.”

~*~

As promised, Bruce spent the night with her before going to patrol. He only dropped off the food for Dick and Alfred to the butler before pulling her along up the stairs and to his room, and calling out to Dick that they'll go out for patrol in a few hours so he should eat his dinner now. Vivian wasn't someone who was that into a praise kink, but she did appreciate the way Bruce kissed her body and how he literally got on his knees and kiss her thighs and then ate her out.

God, that man knew how to use his tongue.

After what felt like an hour of love-making and cuddling in bed, Vivian was left lying in bed as Bruce got out of the shower and equipped himself with his Batman suit.

“You're not getting dressed?” Bruce asked.

“No. Why does it bother you?” Vivian sat up, teasingly dropping the blanket, showing him her nude chest.

Bruce walked up to her and leaned down to kiss her lips. “I need to focus, Viv.”

“Think of this as something to look forward to when you get back.”

“Then I better make sure this patrol goes smoothly.”

“Take care out there, Batman. And look out for Boy Wonder.”

Bruce kissed her again said, “Yes, Ma'am.”

The knock on the door had them fix themselves, with Bruce pulling up his cowl, and Vivian the blanket to hide her body from Dick who opened the door.

“Thought so,” he muttered when he saw Vivian waving at him then turned to Bruce. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

“I'm coming,” Bruce said, making Vivian laugh.

“You two are gross,” said Dick.

“Let's go, chum,” Bruce ushered him out.

“Good luck! And stay safe out there!” Vivian called out.

“We will! Night, Viv!” Dick replied before Bruce closed the door.

Alone in the bedroom, Vivian got dressed in her underwear but wore one of Bruce's shirts and her trousers so she could roam around the manor. Might as well get familiar with the place. In one of her ventures in the manor, she came across a wall where a sword was supposed to be, she'd know because that wall mount was made for holding swords, and the mantle below it looked like it used to hold something too.

“There once was a crossbow displayed there,” Alfred's voice startled Vivian.

“Alfred, you scared me,” Vivian took a breath.

“Apologies, Professor Pryor,” Alfred approached her. “I presume all is well? Are you in need of a Plan B, Ma'am? After the last time Master Bruce went out to get one, I have decided to have one on hand in case of unplanned occasions.”

Vivian blushed in embarrassment. She's known Alfred for two years now and she's not sure if she's that close with him to talk about those things. AKA, her sex-life with the man he raised as a son.

“No, I — uh — I… we were — Bruce was wearing a… condom,” she whispered the last part. “But thank you for mentioning it – hold on, is that why the last time I slept over there were Plan B pills on the bedside, with a glass of water?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Alfred, we do not deserve you,” Vivian laughed.

“No, you don't,” he joked. But their laughter ceased when they turned to the empty holders on the mantle and the wall. “Up there, there used to be a sword too. Young Master Bruce would call it Zorro's Sword because of how similar it looked to the prop in the film.”

Zorro, Vivian remembered. The night his parents were shot in that alley, they were coming out of the cinema after watching Zorro.

“I see,” Vivian said. “And the crossbow?”

Alfred sighed and gestured for her to follow. “When he was a boy, there is a myth that parents in Gotham would tell their children about a secret organization dating hundreds of years back in Gotham City, it was said that they were built by Gotham's elite and they are the ones that rule Gotham in the shadows.”

“The Court of Owls,” Vivian said.

“Yes.”

“I read about them when I took a course in Gotham history, and I wrote about them in a section of my book as part of Gotham's history too. They say they wear owl masks too, hence the name… others claim it's nothing but a cover for a sex cult.”

“People's imaginations are much wilder now.”

“How does that connect to the crossbow?”

“Well, after the death of his parents, Master Bruce believed the Court of Owls were behind it and began his investigation. He would escape his room and his home in the middle of the night to investigate, bringing with him the crossbow. The first time he used it was to shoot an owl in the attic, after that I took the thing away and hid it. The young man knew where to find it and stole it and went off with his investigation.

“One day his investigation got him trapped in an old building at Gotham. He was missing for three days. When we found him, he was unconscious, dehydrated and starving. He was in a comatose for three days and when he woke, he finally gave up in his search and said that the Court of Owls,” he sighed. “Do not exist…”

Vivian frowned as she imagined a young Bruce Wayne going through that. He was just a boy and…

They arrived at the study where Alfred opened one of the secret cabinets and showed the crossbow.

“The only place I knew he wouldn't find it, and is under lock and key,” said Alfred. “I never put it back because I thought it would just bring back bad memories.”

“Just like the sword,” Vivian sighed. “I also noticed something missing from there. A photograph?”

“A small portrait of his great-grandfather, Alan Wayne. There were suspicions that he too was a member of the Court but no evidence showed that he was. Master Bruce had it removed… I'm afraid that section of the manor is simply filled with bad memories that Master Bruce would prefer to not see again.”

“I can’ only imagine why,” Vivian frowned. “When I first came here I felt how heavy the manor was. The long history it holds and the tragedy that happened to Thomas and Martha Wayne and how it affected Bruce.” Her eyes went to the portrait in the study, it was of the Wayne family – Thomas, Martha, and a young Bruce. “I could only imagine how lively this place was when Mrs. Wayne was alive and running the show.”

“It was. In fact, there were many of us staff here. But paranoia got to Master Bruce that he had everyone dismissed but me. His guardian, and the only one he trusted. It took him a long time before he opened the manor again to people, and not just for parties, but for someone to freely walk its halls again,” Alfred's gaze was on her, she could feel it. “May I speak freely, Professor Pryor?”

Vivian's brows furrowed. “Of course, what is it?”

“I do hope you do not take this badly but, ever since Master Bruce brought you to the Manor, and the days you spend here, this old girl started to feel like how it was when Martha Wayne was around. When both of them were here, and when young Master Bruce used to run around causing trouble, bringing laughter in its halls. And though I know that the young Master Bruce will never return after that night, you have brought back a ray of hope and happiness in him, and it makes this old man glad to see him smile again.”

Vivian looked away in embarrassment.

Seeing her reaction, Alfred thought he have overstepped his ground and made her feel awkward with that weight of information and tried to apologize, “I meant, your presence brings light in the manor as well – and Master Dick around, he too livens up the place. I'm not saying that it's just because of you — Master Bruce very much cares for you, Professor Pryor. He cares deeply.”

“I understand what you meant,” Vivian said. “I can imagine how the place would look like in the holidays. I bet the manor used to be its own Christmas village with everyone here.”

“You can say so. Thomas and Martha Wayne would always invite the families of the staff to join us for the Christmas dinners — if they wish the spend the holidays here — and Master Bruce would play with the other children. He was loved by all, Master Bruce, that in the morning of Christmas, the staff would leave trails of little presents for him to look around in the manor. His own little treasure hunt.”

Vivian laughed but an idea came to mind.

“You know, Alfred, you just saved me another trip aimlessly walking around Gotham's shopping district.”

~*~

On the day of Christmas, Bruce woke up later than the others. Nothing new. Oddly enough, neither Alfred, Dick, nor Vivian were in the sitting room, the dining area, nor the kitchen. But there was a note that stuck on the fridge written in Vivian's penmanship that they were having a late lunch at the solar in the East Wing of the manor. Then in Alfred's penmanship saying: I brought the coffee here, Sir. No need to work in the kitchen. Right, he was banned from using the kitchen.

Walking the familiar path to the solar, Bruce looked around his surroundings, to see if there was anything different in the manor. He noticed the new curtains that Alfred had installed for the holidays. It was in the shades of emerald and maroon; then there were the Christmas decorations. He wondered how many trees there were in the manor. There was one in the sitting room, but then there was another in this area but smaller. Have they always had that many in the place during the holidays?

He made a mental note to tell Alfred to stop with the extra trees. They rarely go to the other parts of the manor anyway.

Then he saw it. The mantle where the crossbow and the sword used to be, but then something was off. There were other things that took the place of the sword and crossbow. On the wall-mounted holder, instead of the old sword he used to play with as a kid (despite his parents telling him not to) were candy canes that form an ‘x’, the on the wall where he have removed Alan Wayne's photo, in its place was a photo that he was sure he never saw before.

It was a enlarged photo booth photo of Vivian, Dick, and Alfred, all wearing Santa hats and were holding a card that says: “Happy Holidays! Congratulations on finding the first clue! We're not in the Solar, but you can find us by solving that clue.”

Bruce looked down on the mantle and saw the Christmas card with a cheesy holiday photo, and inside was a note written with Vivian's penmanship. It was a riddle, a poorly made one and he answered easily, and then at the very bottom she made a post-script: sorry for the shitty riddle, but hurry up!

Laughing, Bruce brought the card with him and went to the next destination. It was to the West Wing gallery. He used to go there and look at the paintings his mother purchased. Now it was empty but for one frame pinned to the wall with a photo of Alfred wearing a Santa Claus getup and a note telling him to wear the the jumper and to answer the riddle.

What jumper? He thought. Then he saw the present on the console and opened the box.

No.

It was an ugly Christmas jumper.

He hated those, even when he was a kid.

Inside the box there was another note, this time it was Vivian's handwriting: it's a holiday thing, wear it. Then in Alfred's handwriting, it had cypher. No sweat, he solved it easily and went to the next destination, on the way he was changing into the jumper — it was emerald with Christmas balls going a cross this torso. The next place was at the Great Hall where he would host parties. When he was a boy his parents would host galas there, and he would watch from the top of the stairs.

This time it was Dick's photo he saw with a present. Dick was wearing an elf's hat and ears and was holding the note with the riddle of the next place. The sitting room, he answered, and inside the box was a Santa Hat for him to wear.

Venturing back to the sitting room, he expected them to be there but the place was empty and the same as he left it earlier but for the present that was placed on the table. Opening the box he was met by an old Grey Ghost merchandise and inside was the photo of Vivian holding the last note — he hoped it was.

Say: wohs sevlesrouy.

“Wohs sevlesrouy,” Bruce did what he was told to. Was that a spell? He thought, then one moment the sitting room was empty with just the tree and the small decorations, now there were food on the table, the tree filled with presents, and a fire lit to keep them warm. Looking behind him, he saw Alfred, Dick, and Vivian standing there, all wearing Christmas jumpers and Santa hats.

“Happy Holidays!” They greeted him.

Bruce smiled and let out a laugh. “You did all that so you can set this up?”

“Actually, we were already here when you first came,” Dick said.

“What do you…”

“I did a little spell to get you to do this little treasure hunt that I set up with Alfred and Dick's help,” Vivian answered. “I used a spell to hide us and only when you say the words in this card,” she showed the card he held. “Will the glamor be removed and appear ourselves to you. Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Is this your Christmas gift to me? A little treasure hunt?” Bruce wrapped his arms around her.

“Yes, and that Grey Ghost toy. Did you enjoy it?” Vivian asked.

Bruce leaned down and kissed her lips. “I did. Very much, especially the photos. I think I'll keep them up somewhere so we get to see them… but the jumper.”

“Every family has an ugly Christmas jumper, and since we are a family we should to. So, you cannot take that off, Wayne.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” he kissed her again and again and again –

“Ahem!” Dick called for their attention. “We're right here, and I am starving!”

“Alright, alright, kiddo,” Vivian laughed and released Bruce but took his hand to lead him to the couch to sit as she and Alfred handed over the plates for food and hot cocoa for everyone. “Also, there is another thing for the holidays,” Vivian conjured something from midair. It was an old-looking book. “When I was a girl my dad would always read to me and my Mom, and later my siblings A Christmas Carol, maybe we can read this together later?”

Bruce smiled and took her hand. “We can read it by the fire before heading to bed.”

As they had their holiday meal as a family, Bruce's smile never fell as he watched his family enjoy the holidays, and as new traditions take place.

~ Many Years Later ~

Mastering the art of gift-giving was a skill that Vivian had to learn gradually, especially when it comes to Bruce. Her first successful and real gift became their family tradition of a holiday treasure-hunt for the children around the manor, ugly holiday jumpers, and from reading classic Christmas stories to watching Christmas movies all bundled together by the fire. As the years progressed, her gifts to Bruce had one focal point: family.

While he looks like a man who has everything with his riches, Bruce Wayne is one of the loneliest person in the world and Vivian realized that the best gift she could give him was something he will remember. Not material things but memories that he will cherish and that would always make him laugh.

And those holiday memories were frozen in time by photos they would take by the tree every year and were placed on the mantle where everyone’s stockings are. Before it was just the photo of Bruce, Vivian, Alfred, and Dick, with their respective stockings – which Alfred made – hanging by the fire; then came Jason and they got another photo the family with him and his own stocking, then Tim, the Cassandra, Stephanie and Damian, Duke, Kate would join occasionally, and the latest one was with Valerie in her holiday onesie and still a baby sleeping in her mother’s arms.

This year, they plan to have another family photo with Valerie, now two-years-old and can stay awake with them for a bit longer to get a photo. Also because she requested they take it again with Greg this time. How can they say no to that?

But holiday traditions don’t always go as planned.

One of the new traditions of the Wayne family was to do volunteer work around Gotham a day before Christmas. With Vivian bringing with her Valerie, who she carried in a carrier on her back (the girl enjoys using that) they were with Dick and Damian at the petting zoo where they helped animals and the children visiting. Valerie enjoyed her time with the animals and the other kids who welcomed her in their circle. At first they were a little intimidated, she was a Wayne after all, but then Valerie fell on the snow and dirtied her clothes and they all realized that she was just like them. A kid who gets their clothes dirty too.

It was a fun sight to see her daughter play with the other children of Gotham, especially those from the orphanage that Martha Wayne put up.

“The kid’s a natural in making friends,” Dick said while holding Haley in his arms.

“She is,” Vivian laughed as she saw one of the children holding Valerie and bringing her back.

“Mrs. Wayne, I think she’s freezing now,” the children said.

One cue, Valerie sneezed and snot came out.

“Ew,” the children laughed.

“Okay, time to warm up,” Vivian took Valerie and hugged her tight in her jacket to give her warmth. Dick helped in wiping her nose clean and putting his bonnet on Valerie to keep her warm. “Did you have fun?”

Valerie nodded and pointed to the direction of the children watching her. “Play?”

“Sorry, Val, you gotta get warm or you’ll be sick on Christmas,” the children said.

Valerie pouted.

“Here, we made this for you,” one of the children held out a carved toy out of wood. It was one of the activities in the place for the children to enjoy. Simple wood carving where they can make toys of their own. “It was Peter who made it and he’s really good at carving wood.”

The toy was a nutcracker and Valerie happily accepted it and said thank you.

“She won’t let go of that tonight,” Vivian said. “Thank you. I hope everyone had fun.”

“We did. Thanks, Mrs. Wayne. If Val needs friends she can visit any time – we’ll be right there at the orphanage.”

Vivian smiled sadly and reached out to mess with their hair. “I hope everything is okay there. Is it warm in the orphanage?”

“Yeah! We got the new heaters and the blankets too! Mrs. Hall said we were going to have Christmas dinner too!”

At that moment, Jason and the others who knew how to cook were helping out in preparing the children’s Christmas dinner. An early start but nothing beats a good meal after a day of playing in the snow.

“Why don’t we head inside and have some hot chocolate. I got someone do a run so we can all get warm in there, besides I’m sure the animals are cold now too,” Vivian got up and ushered everyone inside the petting zoo. Inside they were greeted by the sight of Bruce waiting with the table of hot cocoa and snacks for everyone to enjoy, and presents that sat in a huge red sack in the corner.

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne!” The children said as they lined up to get their cocoa and snack.

After greeting the children and handing each of them presents, Bruce went to his family who sat at one of the tables with their own drink and snack.

“Did Val get sick?” Bruce asked when he noticed his daughter’s red nose.

“Nothing I can’t fix,” Vivian winked at him. “She was having so much fun that she didn’t realize she was freezing. The kids brought her back when they saw the snot coming down.”

“Dada!” Valerie reached for him.

Bruce happily took his daughter and let her sit on his lap while he cleaned her face.

“Jason said that the dinner for the children are almost done, we can head back to the orphanage after they finish their drinks and snacks,” said Bruce.

“Good, because that’s all they’ve been talking about. And tomorrow, I can’t wait for our little family holiday tradition,” Vivian kissed his cheek. “Got everything set in the manor?”

Bruce smirked. “Damian won’t find the clues that easily this time, and I made sure that Val can participate too.”

“The Wayne Family Holiday Treasure Hunt. And after that we could watch Polar Express or Klaus for the movies? Those were the top two picks for tonight.”

“We’ll see, let’s have them battle it out the old fashion way.”

“Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Exactly.”

The sound of his phone ringing had Bruce reaching for it to answer. It was Alfred. Upon answering, he was met by the worried voice of the man at the other line with disturbing news. Seeing the expression on his face, Vivian knew what it meant.

“Understood, I’m heading back now,” Bruce ended the call. He then turned to his wife with an apologetic look on his face. “Something happened in Central Gotham, I need to go. I’ll take Damian with me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll handle things here. Go and take Dick with you too.”

“No, Dick will stay with you. I won’t feel comfortable with leaving you both alone until you’re both at the manor,” Bruce leaned down to kiss her and then he kissed Val on top of her head. “I’ll be back.”

“Dada?” Val asked, feeling that her father was going to leave again.

“I’m sorry, Val, but Dada needs to take care of something.”

As if she understood, Val nodded and placed a sloppy and snotty kiss on his cheek. Bruce didn’t mind, he just wiped the snot off once his daughter wasn’t looking. Getting up, Bruce called for Damian and the two of them were running out of the place. Vivian had to make an excuse that it was some sort of emergency that they needed to see in the manor.

~*~

Returning to the Manor, Dick, Jason, and the others had to head to the cave and get change so they can join Batman and Robin in the case, this left Vivian, Valerie, and Alfred in the house. As much as they would have wanted to wait for the others to return for dinner, Valerie was hungry and Alfred had medicine he needed to take for his ailments. After dinner, Vivian had Alfred rest for the night, reminding him that she can do the dishes while giving Valerie a bath (“Alfred, the best gift you can give me is seeing you relax,” Vivian joked, “Let me handle these.”).

“Dada?” Valerie asked while playing with her toys in the tub.

“Dada is at work with Damian and the others,” Vivian washed the soap off them both.

Valerie grabbed the Bat-duckie (a rubber-duck with Batcowl that Stephanie saw and bought) and showed it to her mother.

“Yup, Bat-duckie,” Vivian laughed. “Okay, duckie, time to get out.”

After draining the tub, Vivian took her daughter and brought her to the master bedroom’s bed. With Bruce still out, she decided to let Valerie sleep there with her until her father comes home. Besides, Bruce tends to take their daughter from her nursery and have her sleep between them every after his patrol.

Putting on the Batman onesie, Valerie started crawling towards the three books Vivian had put out for her to choose from for tonight’s reading, but Vivian pulled her back, making the girl laugh, so she could finish doing the buttons of the clothes.

“Alright, alright, go pick one for storytime,” Vivian took the chance to finish getting dressed as her daughter crawled towards the books and inspected each one, as if it were the first time she was reading them again. But with how the corners were creased and the pages have seen better days, that was the hundredth time they’ve read those books and Valerie doesn’t get tired of them.

When Valerie didn’t seem to find anything she liked, the toddler crawled down the bed, clutching on the comforter for leverage, and ran to her reading nook at her father’s bedside and choose from the handful of books they keep there.

“You miss, Dada, don’t you?” Vivian whispered as she watched the girl look closely at the Father-Daughter’s pile of books.

Valerie finally found the book she wanted to read and showed it to her mother. It was Disney's Treasure Planet Children's Storybook, one of their daughter’s favorite movies of all after watching it with Dick and Barbara. When she saw that in the bookstore, she immediately showed it to her father and asked him to read it to her. Bruce purchased the book – not caring of its expensive price since it’s one of the collectable items of the movie – and would read it to her every night she would ask him to.

“Let’s go,” Vivian pulled her daughter up to the bed and had them snuggle under the covers. “Where did you and Dada left off?”

Valerie turned the pages until they came across the part where Silver and Hawkins opened the gate of Treasure Planet. They began their story, with Vivian using different voices for each character and – to make it interesting – used her magic to pop-out the characters from the book and move around before them. Valerie listened and watched intensely as they read the story, following the words that would pop out of the pages for her to remember what they look like and sound like. Eventually – before they could make it to the end – Valerie fell asleep.

Yawning, Vivian checked the time –

It was that late already? She thought. Maybe this case was a little too much for Batman and his Robins.

Or not.

The bedroom door creaked open and in came Batman with his cowl pulled down and his gaze never leaving the sight of his wife and daughter in bed about to go to sleep.

“You’re still awake?” Bruce asked.

“She just fell asleep,” Vivian answered and greeted him with a kiss. “How was the emergency.”

“Handled. It was Faust causing trouble, we handled it with the League. Harley Quinn was there.”

“To lend a hand or cause chaos?”

“Both,” Bruce let his cowl and cape drop, along with his gloves so he could pick up his daughter from the bed. “You finished the book without me?”

“No, we haven’t reached the ending yet. She misses you, that’s why she wanted to read it,” Vivian placed it back on his bedside. Watching him cradle their daughter would always bring a warmth in her chest that had Vivian fall in love all over for him. The look in his eyes as he watched their daughter spoke a thousand words of love; the way he held her looked like someone holding a porcelain doll and a cherished treasure.

It was as if Valerie didn’t poop or puke on them both as she grew up.

“I’ll take her back to her nursery,” Bruce said to her.

“What do you mean? Don’t you want her to sleep here beside us?”

“I do, she does every night, and I love it. But I feel like I haven’t been a husband to my wife for a while now,” Bruce turned to her with those blue eyes of his that would still make her blush.

“You haven’t neglected me, if that’s what you mean,” Vivian reassured him.

“I’ll be right back,” With that, he left, bringing with him Valerie who he placed in her crib, tucked in with Echo and Greg the Gargoyle around her. When he came back, he had with him the baby monitor, which he tossed at Vivian’s direction before heading to the shower.

Hearing the water running and the door slightly ajar, Vivian thought for a moment and decided – fuck it, she can just dry her hair again with magic later. Getting up, she took off her clothes and knocked on the shower door.

“Is there something you need?” Bruce asked but he froze when he saw her standing here in the nude.

“Maybe you want some company?” Vivian shrugged.

He moved aside to let her in, and as soon as the shower door was shut, he caged his wife against the wall and captured her in a kiss.

“I missed you,” Bruce whispered as he trailed kisses down her neck.

“I miss you too,” she wrapped her arms around him. When he pulled away from the kiss, Vivian thought he wanted something specific and was about to go down on her knees when but Bruce held her up.

“No. I just want you here with me,” He wrapped his arms around her and buries his face at the base of her neck.

Smiling, Vivian turned off the shower and opened the door. “Okay,” she whispered and held him tight.

~*~

In bed, the couple laid in each others arms as they enjoyed each other's company in silence. It was one of the beauties of their relationship, they can just be there without saying a word or doing anything. Even the silence was enough for them, all that matters was they have each other's company.

“Our anniversary is coming,” Bruce suddenly spoke.

“Bruce, it won't be until April,” Vivian laughed. “You're way to advanced.”

“We didn't do much this year, so I was thinking we take a trip. Just the two of us.”

“Where?”

Bruce adjusted his hold on her, propping her leg over him and holding her even closer. “That's why I mentioned it now because I know it'll take us time to find the right place.”

“Kind of hard since we've gone to most of the cities around the world.”

“Not always for pleasure, most of the time it's because of work. Both our day jobs and the League. Do you have any place in mind you want to spend at least two days of vacation?”

She turned to her husband in disbelief. “You are initiating a two-day vacation? Ha! You are growing old, my love. Back then I can't even get you to agree to one night trip to New York.”

“We had our honeymoon that lasted for two weeks. And come on, it's New York, Viv.”

She rolled her eyes. “The New Jerseyan in you is coming out. What's gotten you to think like this, Batman?”

Bruce laughed and kissed her.

He's avoiding the question.

Bruce never kept secrets from her, but he does tend to procrastinate when it was something that would make her worry or could possibly ruin the mood they were in.

“Bruce.”

Another kiss.

“My love, tell me,” she softly pushed him away.

Sighing, he admitted: “The other night, I was chasing a teenager who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And in the chase my knee…”

“Oh, Bruce,” Vivian sat up and had him lay on his back.

“Viv, come back.”

“I know, but let me see,” She pulled down the blanket and propped his heavy leg on her lap. The stitches from his multiple surgeries were the first thing she saw, along with the scars she got from being Batman. Seeing them, she leaned down and kissed the part where the biggest scar was. It was when she thought she might have to amputate his leg but Vivian healed him and held him together until they got him to a surgeon that fixed his injuries.

“Did it hurt tonight?” She asked him.

“No.”

She looked at him with a deadpan look.

“There was some slight feeling of discomfort.”

Placing a hand on his knee, Vivian began the spell that spread warmth throughout his veins and muscles and had Bruce sighing in relief.

She scoffed. “Not in pain, huh? Don't even think about sitting up.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Oracle.”

“Clark?”

There was a moment of silence before he admitted. “I asked him to use his x-ray vision to see the problem.”

“Good to know that you would go to your husband first before your wife,” she teased him, which earned a poke on the side, which tickled her. “Does it feel better now?”

“Yes. Can you, please, lay down with me?” Bruce pulled her to his side again. “If you're wondering about if I have thought about retiring, it has crossed my mind…”

“I just want you to still be you when you finally decide to pass on the cowl or hang it up in the cave. You're not getting any younger, you know, you're becoming an old man,” they laughed.

“An old man with a young wife.”

“Please, forties is not young.”

“You still look young.”

“I have white hair now, and I'm getting more wrinkles.”

“You're still beautiful, Viv.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

Bruce laughed and kissed his wife. “There are times when I think that this is just a never ending battle. That I should just let it be because Batman can't save people from themselves. I cannot save Gotham from itself. The people here refuse change. This is the world they want.”

Vivian frowned as she remembered the night he said something similar and broke down, he did consider hanging up the cowl but then one night there were no violent crimes in Gotham. Just one night of it gave him hope that it was possible. But now…

“But whenever I see our daughter… I don't want to lose that light in her eyes. I want her to still have hope and to live in this city without fearing its streets.”

“I know,” Vivian held him tight. “It's difficult for you to accept defeat, but Bruce one man can only do so much, and I think Batman has done enough. He has brought not just fear to his enemies but hope to those he helps. To those he protects. I don't care what they say about Superman or Wonder Woman, you are a man, and you are able to do all of this. Batman is and will always be the greatest hero there is, and the lessons you passed down to everyone will be your legacy.

“And though I know it's hard to accept the truth, the truth is… this war you've been fighting won't end with you. And I have accepted that — and I know Val has her father's good and caring heart, she will be the Batman's legacy too along with her brothers and sisters.”

Bruce held her tight. “Would it be alright if you hold on to that watch for a while?”

Vivian smiled and kissed him. “I'll hold on to it until you're ready to hang up the cowl… or maybe I can pawn it for a while… get something for myself while I wait.”

“Smartass,” Bruce laughed and pulled her to lay on top of him. Their digital clock sounded a short and soft alarm. It was midnight now. “Merry Christmas, Viv.”

“Merry Christmas, Bruce,” Vivian leaned down and kissed him. In their kiss, Bruce let out a throaty groan as he felt her pressing down on him. When he pulled away to ask, Vivian answered him by taking off her shirt and her bottoms, then said, “Part one of my gift.”

“I thought holiday sex isn't a gift,” he smirked.

“It's not, but it is the holidays, so gotta have a theme.”

“Please don't tell me you have a Mrs. Claus lingerie with you.”

“No, but,” she reached under her pillow and placed a hat on Bruce's head. It was a Santa hat. “But that will do.”

Laughing, Bruce sat up and kissed his wife deeply and pulled her closer to him as she pulled down his underwear and ground herself on his growing erection.

“Happy holidays, Mr. Pryor,” Vivian gasped as she sank down on him.

Bruce let out a sigh of pleasure to be in her warmth. “Happy holidays, Mrs. Wayne.”

~*~

When Damian saw his little sister climbing down her crib, he shrugged it off and simply watched as she carefully gripped the handles and took one step at a time until she was down, with the family cats and dogs, and Greg the Gargoyle.

“Very good, Val,” Damian commended her.

“Dami! Mewwy ‘smas!” Valerie hugged his leg.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Val,” he picked her up. “Let's go brush your teeth then we can wake Mom and Father.”

To tease him, Valerie blew her morning breath at her brother and Damian hummed in displeasure. “Hmm.”

A quick trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth and Damian standing outside the bathroom with the door shut as she did her business, until she called out to him saying: “Done!” And he would go in and help her clean up.

“Come on, let's surprise Mom with the jumpers she got us,” Damian changed her out of the pajamas and into the Christmas jumpers they would get every year for the family. This year, their theme was Super-Holiday Jumpers. It was Stephanie's idea when she and Tim found the whole set in the mall and bought one for everyone to wear. He was wearing a Robin jumper that had the insignia at the very middle incorporated to the design, and Val wore a red and gold one that had the Wonder Woman symbol at the front.

“And the finishing touch,” he placed the mini-Santa hat on her head. Val laughed and started pulling him along.

Standing before their parents’ bedroom door, Damian had Valerie stand by the wall with her eyes closed as he knocked loud and called out, “I'm coming in!” then waited a few seconds before opening the door to check. Good, they were dressed in their holiday jumpers, but oddly enough the Santa hat was on the ground at this time of day.

“New wake up call?” Vivian said to him.

“It was my way to make sure Valerie does not have to go through that nightmare of seeing what we all saw then while at a young age,” said Damian. “Coast is clear, Val.”

From the door, Valerie walked into their parents’ bedroom and ran to her father who scooped her off the ground. “Good morning, Val,” Bruce greeted her.

“Mownee!” Valerie said, and right on time her stomach growled.

“Okay, time for breakfast, and once everyone is here, the Wayne Family Treasure Hunt will begin,” Vivian had Damian under her wing and led him out the room and to the kitchen.

With Jason staying at the manor for the holidays, he's taking the task in preparing the meals with Alfred helping in some way. For breakfast, he surprised everyone with a holiday themed meal, and Val's favorite which he served in her favorite plate too.

Not long after – with the dishes washing themselves – one by one everyone was arriving at the manor wearing their favorite super-holiday jumpers, bringing food for dinner, and a competitive look on their faces knowing what's to come.

Gathered in the sitting room, Vivian, Bruce, and Alfred stood before everyone else as they waited for the two teams to finalize each other. Dick's team got Barbara, Stephanie, and Cassandra; and Jason's team got Tim, Damian, and Duke. Val will be participating as a guide for both teams to accomplish all of the tasks. Bruce made some tasks that need both teams to work together so Valerie could play with all of them.

“I'm telling you now, it's not going to be easy this year,” Vivian told them.

“Please, you said that last year and we finished it before you can finish a bottle of scotch,” Jason teased.

“Trust me, this is harder, and you'll need these too,” Bruce tossed them back their coats and helped Valerie in hers. “The clues are not just in the manor, it spans all around the estate.”

All cockiness flew out the window as they realized how big Wayne Estate was.

“You're joking, right?” Barbara asked.

“This will be a test of physical and mental skill, and baby skills too. The living room will be your base for every treasure you find,” Vivian handed Valerie to Jason as she started to make grabbing motions at him. “We made sure to put a line as well,” she gestured the magically conjured line between the teams and the sides of the room. “So no one would go on a territory war. You got until three in the afternoon to finish the task.”

“So, it's that difficult, huh?” Stephanie laughed. “Okay, that's interesting.”

“Everyone starts here inside and around the manor, so Val can play too. But when it's time for the excavations, she'll be having her nap.”

“Gotta prepare for Christmas dinner and movie night, huh?” Tim took a photo of Val and Cassandra playing some clapping game.

Vivian then placed the two Christmas cards with the first riddle on the table. One red and the other blue. “Alfred, do the honors,” she gestured to the man.

“With this, the Wayne Family Holiday Treasure Hunt begins,” Alfred started the clock, and Dick and Jason grabbed the cards and started reading it silently with their teams.

“Got it!” Tim and Stephanie exclaimed and were leading their teams to the direction of the attic, leaving a trail of laughter, competition, and the sound of Valerie giggling.

~*~

The treasure hunt went on for hours with each team solving puzzles that involved them using what they learned from Batman, and some that they needed Valerie to accomplish. They got five pieces of the piece they were going to build and set them on each of their tables in the living room where the timer was. When the next clue was leading them out to the vast estate, they had to give Val to Vivian, who was now asking for nap time.

All the fun and excitement got her tired.

“Time's running out,” Vivian noted the clock that was fifteen minutes from the end.”

“They almost got it,” Bruce showed her the camera feed that showed Damian and Cassandra going against each other to get to their piece first. It was Cassandra who got it first and she jumped down for Jason to catch and the whole team ran back to the vehicle they used and head back to the manor, but Dick's team wasn't far off and they were racing back to the manor.

Vivian took the walkie talkie, which they gave to each team lead, and said to all of them, “You better not crash.”

They saw them laughing and stepped on it.

“I tell them to be careful and they push on the gas,” she sighed.

When the teams arrived at the teams arrived, they raced to the living room and were now building the piece that Bruce hid around the estate.

“Come on, Grayson!” Damian said as they built whatever it was they were building.

“Jason, get your stubby fingers out of the way!” Stephanie exclaimed and took over.

“DONE!” They all called out.

“And thirty seconds to spare,” Duke proudly said. “What is this, anyway?”

They were all wondering what that does. It looked like a Christmal tree decor – red and blue.

“Not quite,” Vivian smirked.

Tim and Stephanie groaned and grabbed each of their ornament and ran to the tree, looking for that one piece that was missing in the pattern.

That's why the tree looked a person with OCD made it! It was a missing piece for the tree!

“Hand it over, Drake!” Damian grabbed the ornament and hung it at the very top where the missing piece is suppose to be, just as Stephanie shoved hers at the bottom that was out of reach.

“HA!” They all declared they have won.

“With ten seconds to spare,” Bruce mused. “Congratulations.”

“What's the prize?” Barbara asked.

“Well, team Blue won,” Vivian got out an envelope for them. “Gift cards for shopping – special gift cards that you can use for anything you want.”

Dick's team cheered and howled in success, all taking an expensive gift card for their spending.

“Damnit!” Jason muttered. He was glaring at Dick as the eldest Robin gloated. “Oh, shut the fu--”

“Mowning!” Valerie entered the living room in her holiday pajamas and still rubbing her eyes to get the sleep out of them.

“Aw, good afternoon, Val!” Vivian scooped up her daughter. “Dick’s team won. Why don't you give Jay and the others a hug too cheer them up.”

Valerie reached out to Jason and snuggled in his arms and then fell asleep again.

“I guess she's still sleepy,” Jason laughed and cradled her.

“Christmas Dinner isn't until later, so let her sleep,” said Bruce. “Is it alright if she stays with you? She looks comfortable there.”

“Yeah, she's good here,” Jason sat down on the couch. “I guess the presents can wait later when she wakes up.”

“I think we can hand out the other presents since Babs and Duke still have to go to their families,” Vivian shrugged.

They all agreed and gathered around to get their gifts. Vivian and Bruce handed out the gifts under the tree, skipping Valerie's gifts for the girl to open later. When they opened their gifts, everyone was happy to get what they always wanted. The gifts that Bruce got were more sentimental with Jason finally fixing Thomas Wayne's old broken watch and handing it as a gift after all this time, Dick giving him a framed photo from one of the early days of being just the four of them in the manor, and from Vivian was a photo album that collected their memories throughout the years, from their days when they were still dating until their life as a married couple, and now with their family.

The sight of their real wedding had Bruce smiling. Gotham doesn't know about that one, but it was the most intimate and most memorable one for him.

Taking his wife by her chin, Bruce had her face him to place a kiss on her lips. No words, but Vivian knew what he meant and pressed her forehead on his.

“From our first case to our last,” Bruce murmured.

“From our first case to our last,” she said back.

“Val's awake!” Cassandra helped the girl up and handed her a glass of water. “Presents?”

The word had the sleep disappear from her eyes and Valerie jumped down and ran to the tree, dragging Cassandra with her.

“From me,” Cassandra held out the present to Valerie.

As Valerie started to unwrap the presents, Barbara and the others started taking photos and videos of the moment for them to look back to. In their line of work, it's these little moments that they live for. It's also what reminds them of what they are fighting for.

#batman x reader #batman #dc fanfic #fanfic #bruce wayne #batman fanfiction #batfam #dc batman

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depressedtheatrekiddo · 9 months ago

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I'm sorry Wayne Munson I swear I love you

#yes that's bourgeoisieses there #I know #suprising #if you think about it it actually sounds like something wayne would think #BUT #not in a way #“oh I wanna be with them”#nononono #my pal #my parental figure #my adoptive uncle #he's listening to that thing like I do #thinking constantly “the only thing I want from them is to see their mansions and castles burns”#don't let his silly just some guy energy confuse you #trust me #that man is tragic and he's a revolutionary and takes no shit #you think he raised eddie munson and he's Just Some Guy™? you're wrong #I actually know that he dated a trans woman and she was an artist and he was her muse but they killed her #eddie munson who only has seen photos of her and doesn't fully remember how she smelled or how she sung to him to sleep #wayne munson who cannot be read anymore because he was made to be the muse of an artist #and he lost her #so now no one can read his soul #neither himself #so he just #tries to save eddie's soul #and takes care of him #(wayne munson I love you)#watch eddie munson making a song about his uncle and his auntie who were actually his parents #and watch him grief for not remembering #watch him feel so fucking connected to her that he needs to know everything he can about her

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timmydraker · 2 months ago

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Tim had a jumper that doesn’t seem all that special, but to Alfred, Bruce and Dick is incredibly important. Dare they say vital to caring for Tim.

It’s a big wooly thing, once a pale mossy green but now with a hint of brown and white from fading and use. It’s too big for him to the point that the sleeves have to be bunched up when worn and even than they hang over his hands.

It looks like a dress on him, which isn’t help but his naturally slim build.

The jumper is held in such high regard because when Tim puts it on it means that he’s not feeling like he usually does.

His confidence, his snark, his wit, and his mental strength is either hard to reach or impossible.

Tim, in the only instance he actually talked about what was going on when he wasn’t wearing the jumper, said he felt both like a tiny little fish in a giant pond and like his skin was a sheet of paper.

Bruce talked to Dinah about it and said it was most likely a form of mental regression, but Tim refused for it to be called him being ‘little’ or anything that would remind him of being a kid again.

Because he doesn’t act like a kid, but maybe it’s not right to associate Tim Drake with a normal child behaviour pattern. He doesn’t babble or whine or want to watch kids shows like Dinah had suggest he might, but he does go non verbal or only say one or two words in response to pretty much anything.

He puts his jumper on and will just… sit there.

Tim is always moving or thinking, always doing, but when he gets in his ‘jumper state’ as Alfred calls it, he tends to slow down completely and just want to sit somewhere warm and feel the fluff of his carefully maintained jumper.

Sometimes, he seeks out warmth outside of heaters and fires and the sun.

It’s on one of those days when Tim stalks down to the Cave with his jumper on, hair messy over his head and hands held up to his chest in an almost shy manner.

Jason notices him first and simply raises an eyebrow in confusion while Damian scoffs, “What on earth are you wearing, Drake? That looks moldy-“

But Tim doesn’t even look at him, eyes on the floor as he goes over to Bruce at the computer and pokes the older man’s shoulder once before retracting his hand.

Bruce immediately turns and opens his arms, an almost heartbroken look on his face as he lets Tim drawl onto his lap and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve got you. Anything in particular or just one of those days?”

Tim speaks in a voice like a husk that Damian and Jason only hear because they’ve come closer and sound travels in the cave, “Janet, birthday.”

Bruce Wayne, The Batman, The Caped Crusader, then fucking coos and kisses his head before rocking him slightly.

“That makes sense. Do you need someone here tonight? I can call Dick or stay myself if you need.”

The two other boys in the room look at each other, shocked to hear Bruce say he will give up a patrol to seemingly cuddle someone.

Tim shakes his head, “Alfred.”

Bruce nods, kissing his head again and saying, “Thank you for coming to me so I can help you. I’m so proud of you for not making yourself go through this alone again.”

It’s not exactly a whine that leaves Tim, but it’s not a word that is Bruce’s answer.

Jason comes forward and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but can I like… help or something?”

Bruce smiled as Tim nods against him after a few moments, the boy in his arms turning to reach a hand out for Jason and then strangely patting the hand Jason offers up for him.

Damian, not trying to be rude but needing to understand what is going on, clears his throat and demands, “Explain what is wrong with Drake.”

Luckily Bruce had gotten better at understanding how his son communicates and looks to Tim for permission before answering, “Sometimes Tim needs to… be free of responsibility and just feel like a person for a bit. He isn’t always up for talking and just wants to be around people he trust, and me, Dick and Alfred have managed to convince him to actually come to us when he needs that.”

Bruce smiles at where at where Tim is holding Jason’s hand and swinging it around a bit before feeling over the rough calluses and thick fingers with apparent joy.

Damian frowns a little at his father’s explanation but nods regardless, “Very well, we shall set up the family room for the evening before we head out for patrol.”

Bruce smiled and pulls Damian’s head over to kiss his hairline as he hears Jason mutter, “Weird little guy, aren’t ya?”

Tim hums and pinches his finger and smiling at his older brothers yelp.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #damian wayne #Bruce Wayne #Jason Todd #Jason and Damian are good brothers you can’t change my mind #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #the fantastic foursome #Agee regression but not #trauma responses #traumatised tim drake #jack and janet drake

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clockwayswrites · 2 months ago

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Bitty birb in the nest is worth...? Part 19

Masterpost This is going to have many typos and spelling issues, but it currently feels like I've got an ice pick in my temple and my skin hurts so there's no rereading happening atm. Sorry!

Danny looked up as Tim Drake-Wayne strode into the lab and closed the door quietly behind himself.

“Tim?”

“Mm-hum?” Tim hummed as he sat down his thermos before he shed his messenger bag, coat, and school jacket onto an open part of desk.

Danny watched on with bemusement. The kid looked half asleep. “Not that it isn’t great to see you again, but what are you doing here, honey?”

“Bruce is on a call running Luthor in circles and then has to talk to legal about some stuff because Luthor is always an ass. We’re supposed to go run an errand and then to dinner together, so I’m stuck here until he’s ready to leave for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said honestly.

“It’s okay, at least Bruce won’t forget, not like—” Tim shut his mouth with a snap, seemingly suddenly thinking about what he was saying.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Danny said, because he did. “You need somewhere to hide out then?”

“Yeah, it’s… calm here.”

“Okay. Sit wherever you want that’s clear. If you need to move something, let me know first, okay?”

“Thanks,” Tim said, shoulders finally losing some of their tension.

“Of course, whenever you need.”

Not wanting to push Tim in any way, Danny kept a subtle eye on the boy as Tim absently wandered around Danny’s office. To Tim’s credit, he did try to touch anything or move things around, even as he obviously grew increasingly tired.

It would be a lot, Danny supposed, to be a teen ager trying to live up to the legacy of two important families in the area, learn the business, go to school, and (hopefully) also spend time with friends. Danny knew how hard it had been only having Phantom as an obligation.

While, sure, Danny wished Tim had made chosen a less neck cramping spot, he was happy to see Tim finally settle down and seemingly fall asleep… under one of Danny’s work benches. Danny couldn’t fuss too much, he’d done that plenty in grad school himself. Once Tim seemed properly asleep, Danny got up to fetch his cardigan from the hook by the door and took it to drape over the sleeping kid. Tim let a little huffed breath of air before he snuggled further into the cardigan and settled back into sleep.

It made Danny’s heart melt in a way that he didn’t want to think too hard about.

It really was no surprise when about forty-five minutes later one Bruce Wayne poked his head into Danny’s office. The door was hardly open when Danny had his finger up and over his mouth in the universal sign of ‘shush’.

Bruce titled his head curiously. Danny gave a little nod of his head towards the workbench that Tim was sleeping under. Silently, Bruce moved to the work bench and crouched down next to it. There was a soft, amused sound before Bruce reached out to brush his hand over Tim’s forehead, as if habitually checking for a fever.

When Bruce returned to where Danny was working, he asked softly, “How long has he been asleep?”

“A little over a half hour. It took him about ten minutes to settle in,” Danny answered, voice equally quiet.

“Then do you mind if I let him keep resting for another fifteen minutes or so? He’s likely to wake up on his own then.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope, let the kid rest. He seems like he needs it.”

Bruce glanced at Tim, his expression that soft sort of worried only parents seemed to get. “He does. He works too hard at… everything. He’s always trying to prove himself even when he doesn’t need to anymore.”

Danny made a little questioning noise as he got back to fiddling with the annoyingly tiny screws.

“His parents were… demanding. They had very exacting ideas of what proper high society behavior was,” Bruce explained. “I’m sadly not the best suited at dismantling those ideas either.”

“Ah… well, what do you do that encourages him to be a kid?” Danny asked.

“He skateboards, actually. And he enjoys photography, but even that became a goal what with art competitions at school.”

“Maybe take him and Damian on a mini art vacation? Somewhere pretty. Somewhere where it’s not about judges,” Danny suggested. He finally got the last screw seated so he glanced up at Bruce’s thoughtful face.

“That’s a good idea,” Bruce said. “I’ll start looking at what might work. Thank you.”

“Sure, ideas are kinda what I do,” Danny said and motioned to the office around him with the screwdriver.

Bruce’s answering chuckle was low and warm. “I suppose it is. I hope you’re also not overworking yourself.”

“I’m doing much better,” Danny assured Bruce. “I just needed some rest.”

“Which my children made sure you got. I’m still sorry that they kept you so long on Friday.”

It was Danny’s turn to laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think you really have much control over what they do.”

“No, I really don’t,” Bruce admitted. “But I wouldn’t have them any other way.”

“That’s good; they’re a pretty amazing family,” Danny said with a soft smile. “And if I don’t get to be sorry about falling asleep, you don’t get to be sorry about making me rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal.”

“I am a master business man,” Danny teased and ducked his head to hide his smile.

“I’ll have to watch for corporate take overs. Keep an eye on the stocks and papers.”

“Maybe. Oh, speaking of… Well, not speaking of but sort of related? You know, I was joking about us making the papers.”

Bruce hummed curiously so Danny set aside his tools to pull up the story that several coworkers had sent him on his table. He spun it to face Bruce. The picture of them in the box was big on the screen. They were pressed almost chest to chest with Bruce’s arms around Danny. It certainly looked incriminating.

“Well shit,” Bruce said with a sigh. He picked up the tablet to scan through the article. There wasn’t anything in it, of course, just wild speculation. “I hope you haven’t been harassed about this by anyone.”

“I don’t think anyone knows who I am to harass me,” Danny said honestly. “Some coworkers have sent me it, but apparently it’s just my luck to have both randomly run into a Wayne and be invited to an event and have one of my ‘spells’ when I’m around them.”

Bruce looked at him with one well manicured brow raised. “You have interesting luck.”

“Yep. It’s been quite a life so far. I was pretty much born into interesting luck and life has really lived up to that luck and died by it,” Danny said with a little chuckle as he took his tablet back.

“I feel concerned by that last part.”

Danny hummed in question, distracted by pulling his notes back up.

“The having died by the luck part.”

“Oh.” Danny smiled, but he knew that expression was less than a happy one. “I think I mentioned that there was an accident when I was a kid?”

Bruce nodded and lean his elbows on the work bench and crosses his arms. “You did. One that is apparently still affecting your pulse to this day.”

“Yes, well,” Danny glanced away from Bruce. Why was it still so hard to talk about. “When I was fourteen, I was electrocuted at at an… industrial level of voltage. Unsurprisingly it killed me. And hey, obviously I came back! But that sort of thing sticks around.”

“I’m sorry.”

Danny looked back at Bruce, honestly startled. In all this time, Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a ‘I’m sorry’ about his accident, not without strings attached. His lips quirked into a smile again. This one felt more pleasant. “Thanks. Trust me though, I’m grateful that life has, had been calmer.”

Whatever Bruce was going to say to that was cut off by a loud yawn, the sound of someone shifting around, and then the unmistakable bang of a limb against the metal legs of one of the workbenches.

Quiet cussing followed a moment later.

“You okay there, Tim?” Danny asked.

“Fine,” Tim hissed back.

“I’m sure I have an instant icepack in my office. We can grab one before we leave,” Bruce said.

“B?” Tim asked, voice noticeably brighter. A moment later he appeared out from under the desk.

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry that I had to take that call,” Bruce said as he stepped over to Tim. He reached out to brush the teen’s hair a little straighter.

“It’s fine, it’s Lex, I get it.”

“I know you get it, but that doesn’t mean it has to be fine.”

Tim just shrugged. The action made him notice the the cardigan draped over his shoulders. A little blush rose on his cheeks as he took it off and handed it back to Danny. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for Tim, you weren’t any problem,” Danny assured him. “You’re welcome in my office whenever.”

��You’re going to regret that,” Tim said.

Danny just shrugged with a smile.

“Come on, chum, let’s go find that icepack. We’ll still get to your store before it closes,” Bruce said and started to guide Tim out by the shoulder.

Bruce glanced behind him and Danny gave a little wave to the retreating Waynes.

His luck indeed.

“What happened in Danny’s office that’s bothering you?” Tim asked. He had the icepack pressed against his elbow and was sitting almost sideways so that he could take in all of Bruce’s expression.

Bruce was doing that thing where he was feeling big, complicated emotions and wishing he wasn’t. Tim could read it in the way that Bruce’s shoulders were set, that little bit of tightening under his eyes, and the way he was very purposefully not frowning.

“B,” Tim pressed.

Bruce sighed, the sound all of his air. “I think we should leave Danny alone, both as Waynes and as Bats.”

Tim jolted and scrambled to sit up further. “Wait, what? Bruce, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Bruce assured Tim. “Nothing bad happened. Vicky got a picture of Danny and I at the ballet. We spoke some about it and Danny talked about how he had interesting luck. He said he was grateful that life has been calmer; he had to change that to had.”

“…oh.”

“It’s just that—”

“No, you’re right. I’ll try to talk to the others about it because you know they won’t listen to you about it.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“It’s fine, I get it.”

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #danny/bruce #birdritch

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voiider · 1 month ago

Text

Okay alright I'm tired of giving more children to Bruce Wayne I think we need to start taking some away

Tim getting kidnapped (but in a way they don't announce Tim Drake-Wayne as missing??) and is given Something that induces amnesia but he escapes or maybe just literally wanders away but like he's in the middle of Ohio and he's walking down the road unsure of his own name or where he is and a weird looking camper pills over and a large man leans out the window and says “you doing alright there, sonny?”

And he doesn't really know so he sorta shrugs so they pick him up and the man introduces himself as Jack and this is his wife Maddie and their two kids Danny and Jazz and they're just heading back from a camping trip and they can take him into town (Amity?) and take him down to the station and help him get things figured out

The police take his picture and upload it to a “found” database or smth but there's no active or recent cases in Ohio for missing persons (or teenagers) matching his description

(But also, Amity is pretty disconnected from the rest of the world digitally. They mind their business. Sure they run this boy's face in the newspaper and let the neighboring precincts about him but there's not much more they can do until this kid gets some memories back)

So he goes to stay with Jack and Maddie (idk how i don’t care about LAWS) while they wait to see if they get any hits or until he gets some memories back and they register him under Alvin (“hmm maybe... Tom? No, definitely not. Caroline? Alvin? That sounds the best I guess”) Fenton at the local high school so he can keep getting an education (and Alvin isn’t sure why, but this sort of feels like a waste of time, he already knows all this math stuff and why would he want to read Of Mice and Men he’s pretty sure someone told him John Steinbeck was a hack. Or maybe not. He can’t remember) but it’s simple enough and he likes the Fentons even if they keep trying to convince him ghosts are real

And maybe they are. Actually. Real that is. He saw one the other day and had to double check if knowing ghosts were real is a common knowledge thing that he forgot of if he never knew in the first place. Jazz tells him that ghosts are pretty much an Amity specific thing but that they appear other places and then Jack and Maddie set him down and give him the entire history of ghosts that night and then show him their lab which is pretty cool

And maybe he accidentally suplexed someone who startled him in the halls on his first day and also fell asleep in science,but give him a break! he’s going through a lot right now

But his new brother roommate friend? Is helping him adjust at school by telling him who to avoid and what not to eat from the cafeteria and Jazz is in most of his classes but also he’s not sure why they’re trying to act all sneaky about this Inviso-Bill/vigilante situation because like. That’s clearly just Danny with white hair? He looks the exact same? Also he literally saw Danny walk through the bathroom door last week if it wasn’t obvious enough.

So Tim really isn’t expecting Danny to be surprised that he picked up a thermos that Phantom dropped when he and his friends ran off to fight another ghost

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too-much-tma-stuff · 11 months ago

Text

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

#fanfiction #danny phantom #dc x dp #angst #misunderstanding #the bats think Danny is normal pregnant not incubating cores #Vlad is a creep #stalker Vlad #vlad plasmius #dick grayson #cassandra cain #feedback and comments welcome #for some reason it won't let me add a title #I wouldn't really know what to call it anyway

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saltymarshmall0w · 1 month ago

Text

Dp x Dc Demon twins AU

He couldn’t help the dreadful apprehension building in his gut as he approached the disaster titled “Fenton Works”. The magazine that started this all was in his lap, twisted and worn.

“Genius Child of Genius Woman Discovers Gorilla Male Actually A Female!” the cover read.

The shock of seeing his twin brother’s face on the cover of a magazine with two adopted parents had taken Damian straight to his father, interrupting his work to shove the magazine in front of him.

It took only four days after the debut of the magazine featuring the discovery for the Waynes to converge on Amity Park.

It had to be a grab for their attention, of course. A magazine featuring the dead demon twin they missed the opportunity to ever meet.

Damian didn’t know what to expect from his long-dead twin. He mostly expected it to be a trick concocted by the league, having already met brainwashed clones of himself and his brother.

He hadn’t seen Danyal since he was eight years old and still naive to the league.

Damian was always the more skilled swordsman, the faster and stronger twin. The perfect soldier and heir.

But Danyal was the “spare”, always a few seconds slower, strength giving out just a few seconds before Damian’s did. He questioned too many things and that eventually led to his death during a mission for the league.

Of course, none of that mattered to Damian. As much as he liked being the older, better brother he much preferred having his twin by his side. Nights trading legends of the stars, whispered assurances and shared secrets.

Just before he could ring the doorbell, the door swung open and his look-alike tumbled out of the house.

“Yeah, I’ll be back by nine, mom!” Danyal yelled into the house, seemingly unaware of his guests as he tripped over his untied shoelace. He nearly bowled right into Damian, stopping just in time before hitting him.

“Whoa! Sorry!” Danyal straightened, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else but snapped it closed at the appearance of his twin.

Confusion, suspicion, and a whole myriad of expressions crossed his face, broadcasting his thoughts, before finally settling on— wonder.

“Dude, this is going to sound crazy, but you look, like, exactly like me.”

That was how Damian found out his brother was an amnesiac.

And an idiot.

They discovered Danyal’s identity as the town hero embarrassingly quickly, though his supposed parents didn’t notice when Phantom called them “Mo-Maddie!”

As a civilian he was cowed by an unintelligent Jock, unknowingly stalked by a crazed conspiracy theorist, and dated one of the many “ghost hunters” that targeted Phantom.

When Damian pointed all this out, Danny proudly let them know it was a “cover” to ensure no one would figure out his secret identity— the confident Phantom that got by on the bare bones of league instincts that remained and sheer dumb luck wasn’t the same as scaredy-cat Fenton.

His room was about as messy as Drake's, filled with the personality of a teenager untouched by the league. His friends and sister were filled with delusions of their best friend being a superhero with powers, rather than half-dead.

In a way, Damian was jealous Danyal could have such a normal life. He wasn’t weighed down by the death and pain he caused in the past.

In other ways, Damian was grateful he wasn’t naive enough to think his own parents hunting him was “fine” or their attempts to comit war crimes on an interdimensional species “wasn’t a big deal”.

Perhaps his relapse in judgment could be forgiven. It had been six years since Damian saw his brother, in the chaos of bringing Danyal back to the manor and sending Jasmine off to an elite boarding school at her request, it wasn’t amiss that Damian had forgotten a few key details about his brother.

Damian was always the more skilled swordsman, the faster and stronger twin. The perfect soldier and heir.

But Danyal?

He was an actor. He could lie, and charm and deceive better than any person Damian knew. Danyal played Mother, Grandfather and at times the entire league just to get his way.

But he never lied to Damian before.

At least, that was what Damian assumed, until an overcast Gotham day, where Danyal cornered Damian alone in the manor, eyes glowing an icey blue neither Phantom nor Fenton’s eyes ought to do. He wore a modern League of Assassins uniform, a familiar wakizashi blade formed from ice in his hand.

“Grandfather wants you to quit this rebellion and come home.”

—

Other details to this idea I want but couldn’t work in

-Danny has a secret secret identity that’s a rogue that gets shit done

-Danny is lowkey annoyed Sam and Tucker were there for the whole portal incident, otherwise, he could have kept Phantom a secret.

-Danny lived with the Fentons to steal their research and report back to Ra’s.

-Also as a punishment for, like, questioning the league or something.

-Danny resents Damian for being called the “spare” while Damian was the heir

-Ghost king stuff might be happening, but Danny has kept it on the DL so he could easily usurp Ra’s when he’s old enough

#demon twins #danny phantom #damian wayne #damian al ghul #danny fenton #batfam #dpxdc #dp x dc au

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devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 18 days ago

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Omg I love your writing can you please do a smut fic for Bruce Wayne’s wife asking him to be rough with her like asking to be spanked and chocked because he keeps treating her like she’s fragile and refuse to be rough in bed, she’s really small in stature so he’s always been scared of actually hurting her but she finally convinces him to finally be rough with her. Please ❤️❤️

GRRRR FOAMING AT THE MOUTH ON THIS ONE ABSOLUTELYYY

Sorry this one took a while to write, just had a major snowstorm recently that made a tree fall on the powerlines to my house. Currently running on mobile data to write this bc I won't have wifi till Sunday😀

Like You're Made of Glass

Bruce Wayne x Wife! Reader

Smut and a bit of fluff mixed in.

Alsooo!!! As per the request, the reader is depicted to be quite a fair bit smaller than Bruce, but if anybody wants a Plus Sized reader fic, Im totally down! We love body positivity over here, no matter who you are💜

"Come on, Bruce," Your voice is barely more than a soft, seductive whisper as your arms wrap around his broad, toned shoulders, "I'm not made of glass, you know." Bruce has been at it for hours at this point, the posture of his back absolutely suffering as he continues filling out paperwork at his desk. You would honestly be lying if you said it wasn't attractive, though: driven men are just so... Admirable.

Bruce couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, despite barely glancing up from his patrol reports as you hug him from behind. "No, you're not," Your husband agrees softly, his voice, albeit slightly gruff from disuse over the past few hours, filling the study air with such a soothing melody. "But you are my wife. And, as far as I'm concerned, a certain Mrs. Wayne vowed that she would keep herself safe from any potential threat the night before we got married. That does include myself, for your information."

A soft huff falls from your lips at that, the sound echoing through the, otherwise silent, secured office. "And, as far as I'm concerned, a certain Mr. Wayne vowed to do anything for my happiness on our wedding day," The tease leaves your mouth as it finds it's way to his neck, the sound slightly muffled as you press soft, loving kisses to his tense muscles. "You promised a unicorn, if I wanted it."

He really couldn't help but crack a soft smile at that, which was a rare sight from the, otherwise stoic, Batman. A deep breath and slight sigh escapes his mouth as the pen leaves his hands and rests on the piles of milky, white papers. Bruce couldn't help but let his head fall to the side slightly to rest upon your cheek, which is still burried into the crook of his neck.

"I did promise you a unicorn," He agrees yet again in an even softer tone. That was the tone he used when he considered caving to his darling wife's pleading (which he almost always did). "And your happiness," Bruce adds after a moment as he lets his weary eyes flutter closed, breathing in your familiar and comforting scent.

“But happiness isn’t just about unicorns and fairy tales, Bruce,” you respond, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. The warmth in your eyes contrasts the cool sterility of the office, sparking something intense in the depths of his dark eyes. “It’s also about being able to live fully in every aspect, even between us.”

He furrows his brow slightly, processing your words, but he can't deny the heat rising from where your bodies almost touch and how it made his pants feel just that bit tighter. You have a way of igniting feelings he'd long buried under layers of duty and responsibility. “I just… I want you safe,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

“I know you do,” you assure him, reaching out to trace your fingers along the strong line of his jaw. “But sometimes, I need you to let go—just a little. You don’t always have to protect me. I’m not a delicate flower needing shelter from the storm. I can handle more than you think.”

A flicker of uncertainty dances across his sharp features as he considers your request. His instincts scream at him to be careful, to treat you with the utmost caution. It feels impossible to shake the weight of years spent fighting villains and guarding against any potential harm. But then again, you’ve never been one to shrink back from challenges.

“And what exactly are you suggesting?” he questions, half-teasing, half-serious, lifting an eyebrow. The tension in the spacious office thrummed with electricity, and his heart raced in anticipation of your answer.

Your lips curl into a confident smile, emboldened by a newfound sense of liberation. “I’m saying… I want you to be you,” you say, your voice steady and full of promise. “The true you. Your passion is part of who you are, Bruce. Embrace it—embrace me. Let’s shake things up a bit.”

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the playful challenge hanging thick between you. “You mean you want the Batman?” he asks, his voice lowering further, laced with a darker edge that sends a thrill coursing through you.

“Exactly.” You lean closer, your breath fanning over his skin, whispering sweetly, “I want you to show me how much you can handle without worrying if it will break me.”

Bruce studies you closely, weighing the implications of your daring invitation. What if he lost control? What if he did hurt you, despite knowing you were more than capable of taking care of yourself? But then again, this was another side of you he had never truly explored. This vulnerable yet fierce woman in front of him—the perfect blend of softness and strength.

“Alright,” he finally concedes, his deep voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “But if I lose myself—”

“You won’t,” you interrupt, capturing his gaze with yours. “Trust me. Just let go.”

In that moment, the barriers that had always kept him restrained began to crumble. He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting a spark that felt both electrifying and intoxicating. The gentle brush of your mouths transformed into something deeper, more fervent, an unspoken promise exchanged in the heated embrace.

The tension of the day melted away, replaced by the rhythm of inspiration and passion. As you pulled him closer, your body pressed firmly against his, the world outside ceased to exist. Time stood still in the sanctity of the study as both of you surrendered to the moment, determined to reveal the hidden depths of your love for one another.

Bruce's hands found your waist, gripping the soft fabric of your shirt as he deepened the kiss, seeking to possess and protect all at once. There was urgency in his movements now, a storm brewing beneath the surface that had long been contained. Your heart raced at the primal energy radiating from him, and you could feel the anticipation thrumming through every fiber of your being.

Breaking the kiss, his breath was heavy and warm against your lips. "You want me to be rougher, then," he murmured, almost as if solidifying the agreement into existence. "Is that what you really want?"

You nodded vigorously, feeling your cheeks flush with a mix of excitement and desire. “Yes, Bruce. I’m ready. Just… take care of me afterward.”

With that affirmation ringing in his ears like a battle cry, Bruce transitioned effortlessly into this new role — the man beneath the mask, the guardian who had finally allowed vulnerability within the sanctuary of your shared intimacy.

He pushed you back until the desk met the small of your back, a flash of surprise dancing across your features. But before you could second-guess yourself, he captured your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. His frame loomed over yours, an embodiment of strength and restraint, the very image of the Batman you knew.

“Remember,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “if it gets to be too much, you tap out.”

“Okay,” you whispered, anticipation flooding your veins.

With a quick motion, he brought his other hand down, delivering a sharp smack against your thigh that sent a jolt of electrifying pleasure coursing through you. You gasped, not from pain, but from exhilaration, your body instinctively arching to welcome him deeper into your world. A thrill spread through you as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Good girl,” he praised, another spank following, each strike sharper yet tinged with the tenderness of his touch. You squirmed beneath him, relishing the balance of pleasure and pain, the way that every strike lit up your skin and left a burning mark of his possession.

“More,” you urged, desperation coloring your tone, and he didn't hesitate to comply. Each slap echoed throughout the office, a rhythm punctuated by your soft cries and the heat radiating from Bruce’s body. He watched you carefully, assessing your reaction, the fierce protectiveness never fully disappearing from his gaze.

As the strikes continued, he leaned down and captured your neck between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to send a thrilling rush through your body without choking you. “You’re doing so well for me,” he murmured in that deep, gravelly tone that made your heart race even faster.

His actions intensified the fire within you, igniting a need that warped your perception of time and space. As he toyed with your neck, whispering praises and encouragements, your body responded instinctively, hungry for more of him, more of this exhilarating freedom he was giving you.

“Please, Bruce,” you gasped, your voice almost pleading. It felt like a confession, one that laid bare more than just the physical hunger you craved. “I want everything you can give me.”

A growl rumbled in his chest at that, a sound so primal and beautiful that it sent shockwaves through your entire being. A wicked grin crept onto his face as he transitioned from teasing strokes to something far more feral. He released your wrists, only to shift his grip to your hair, his fingers curling around the strands tightly yet tenderly.

“You asked for it,” he warned, a playful glint in his eyes before leaning forward, claiming your mouth with his again, the taste of you igniting the raw side of his nature. The kiss held none of the gentleness he usually afforded you; instead, it was possessive, driving, demanding.

As he did so, one of his large, calloused hands made it's way beneath your skirt to gently tease the skin of your thigh. The warm appendage slowly traveled up your leg, cupping the mass of your hip while his fingers slipped beneath the stretchy elastic of your panties. They were the pretty, lacy ones he picked up on his last big work trip out of the country.

The warmth of his lips was soon missed, however, as they trailed away from your own. But before you could whine at the loss of contact, his mouth trailed down to your jawline and neck, sucking and biting deep, purple marks into your delicate skin.

You didn't even have a chance to let out a small whimper at the assault on your neck before the sound of fabric ripping could be heard throughout the lavishly-decorated room. "Bruce!" You complain with a soft pout as you feel the reminants of the lacy cloth slipping down your thighs before landing in a small pile of shreds on the carpet floor.

"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Wayne," Bruce didn't bother to lift his head from your neck as he gave that shit-eating grin that you seldom see. He wasted no time in trailing his ring finger along your slick heat, collecting some of the moisture previously accumulating in your panties before trailing the digit up and around your sensitive bundle of nerves. "They're replaceable."

It didn't take long for your hips to be twitching softly, your husband's index and middle fingers tortuously and slowly trailing back to your weeping hole. His warm, calloused thumb moved to rub soft, languid circles on your clit as the digits slid their way inside of you, his lips never ceasing their attack on your, now bruising, neck.

"Baby-" Your whines were shortened in record time as Bruce used his free hand to cover your mouth, squeezing just enough on your jaw to get the point across. The slight stretch of his thick, long fingers inside of your cunt was divine: you almost couldn't help it.

"Speak when you're spoken to, beautiful," his voice was barely more than a rough whisper as his lips moved down your chest, removing the hand from your mouth to undo the first couple of buttons on your blouse. "I wouldn't want my wife out of place, would I? It's not safe for Batman's woman not to listen when given instructions."

His tone was almost enough to send shivers down your spine as your hips twitched yet again as his fingers pumped at a quickened pace, scissoring your gummy walls open to eventually accomodate for his girthy length. Almost immediately, your thigh is met with yet another loud 'smack!' in the otherwise quiet office. "Fuck, Bruce..." A soft whine escapes you, filling the air with your husband's favorite melody. He'd let you off the hook for speaking... This time, at least.

It felt like forever that Bruce spent eagerly fingering your dripping cunt, but that was to be expected. Even if he agreed to let go for the night, he could never risk seriously hurting his beautiful wife by not prepping her correctly. But, eventually, you felt that oh-so familiar tightening sensation in your stomach, your clit burning with pleasure as your husband rubbed at the sensitive spot.

But, then, he stopped.

Bruce had never denied you an orgasm before. In all honesty, you thought you were going to cry as he pulled his fingers away from your cunt, the muscles now clenching desperately around nothing but thin air. Before you could so much as make a pout, he was holding his two fingers to your lips, the digits gleaming with your own fluids. "Suck."

And, for a moment, you laid there as you processed his command. The gesture seemed so obscene but, god, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on nonetheless. So, you gently parted your plush, kiss-swollen lips for him and embraced the pallete of the liquids created by none other than your weeping, aching hole.

Bruce let out a soft, pleased hum at that, pushing his fingers completely into your mouth before slowly unbuckling his belt with his unoccupied hand. You couldn't help but notice that it was tour favorite belt, the one with your initials engraved into the metal clasp currently making it's way to the carpeted floor of the study.

As always, you felt your heart give a soft flutter at the sight of your husband's hard, leaking cock as he freed it of his boxers, letting them fall down to his ankles before stepping out of them and allowing then to join the pile of scraps you once called your favorite panties. You were so entranced by Bruce you hadn't even noticed that youd stopped sucking on his soaked digits.

'Smack!'

Yet another echo came from the soft skin of your thigh as his free hand came in contact with it, the lewd sound bouncinf off of the filled bookcases. "Did I ever tell you to stop?" The tone he used was one you very rarely got to hear, usually reserved for the scumbags he interrogated during the dark Gotham nights.

It was hot.

You shook your head slightly as you looked up at those beautiful, blue eyes, now darkened with what could only be described as feral lust. This, yet again, earned a soft hum of approval from your husband. "Good girl..." He praised in a soft whisper, his unoccupied hand reaching to carefully align the tip of his length up with your heat. "I want you to tap out if it's too much. I need you to tap out if it's too much.

And before you could even utter another whimper, Bruce was sinking his girthy cock into your wet folds. He wasted no time in plowing himself into you, the hard slapping echoing through the study so loudly that you worried if one of the kids were to walk by, they'd have a horrendous image of their adoptive parents burned into their skulls. But all of those thoughts vanished as Bruce shoved his fingers even further down your throat, just barely leaving you enough room to breathe without a significant struggle.

If you had the ability to, your head would be falling back and your jaw would be slack in utter ecstasy. The most you could do for the moment was moan around your husband's thick fingers while he plowed into you, the mahogany desk creaking slightly from the pressure below. In all honesty, you were convinced Bruce would break the desk before he was through. Even then, it didn't seem like he had any intentions of stopping.

"Such a good girl for me..." This was so much different than the Bruce you were used to. Your Bruce held you as close as possible while whispering declarations of love and claiming that you're the best thing to ever happen to him. This Bruce wasn't holding you like a porcelain doll, but instead keeping himself at the best angle to ram into your pretty pussy as hard as he could. "That's my pretty little cunt, isn't it?"

The best you could do was let out a pornographic whine around his fingers, spit dripping down from the corners of your stuffed lips and making it's way down tour flushed and heated cheeks. Despite his literal decades of experience, it took all of his effort not to cum right then and there with your warm, gummy walls milking his length.

Pound after pound.

Slap after slap.

For what felt like eternity, that's all that could be heard. At this point in your sexual adventure, Bruce was determining that he much rathered ramming into your tight little hole when you were still partially clothed. It gave him something more to imagine the next time he saw you in the office and didn't have the chance to bend you over his desk.

And, for the second time that night, you felt that firey, knotted feeling arising in the pits of your stomach. As your fingers reached up to gently tangle your fingers into his, now messy, hair and give it a soft tug, the most you could do otherwise was give him a pleading look, silently begging for him not to rip away yet another orgasm in one night.

At first, Bruce debated edging you at least once more. But when he finally looked into those gorgeous eyes, now hazed over with need, trust, and love, he decided that the rest of the teasing could wait for another night. "Are you going to cum, beautiful?" His voice is ragged and interrupted by a soft groan as he speaks. "Is my pretty little wife going to cum all over my cock?"

While you nodded desperately, still begging for your release to be granted, he kept his pace steady while giving a soft nod, the hair on his forehead sticking slightly with the sheen layer of sweat forming. Within moments, your gummy walls were clenching down around his thick length like there was no tomorrow, covering his shaft with the milky fluid that splashed up onto his pelvic bone and thighs slightly. "Bruce..." Your endless whimpers of his name were bately audible over the thick digits still shoved into your mouth.

As Bruce's hips began to stutter and his groans became more prominent, you wrapped your sore and achy legs around him. "Stay," You whimpered as he removed his fingers in favor of wrapping his arms around your shoulders, almost hugging you as he kept you pinned over the mahogany desk. "Give it to me. Don't pull out. Don't you fucking dare pull out."

That was all it took for Bruce's face to be burried in your shoudler, letting out a low moan as his cock painted your insides with his sperm. Even after he came, your husband still moved slowly in and out of your weeping cunt, prolonging the ecstasy of both of your orgasms as long as possible. Had the two of you ever talked seriously about kids? No, but he could pick up a Plan B in the morning.

"Fuck..." Was all Bruce muttered into your skin before peppering your skin in light kisses, each one trailing upward until his lips met yours in a soft, loving contact. This was the loving husband you were used to. When he finally pulled away and helped brush some of the hair now sticking to your forehead from the sheer layer of sweat covering your body out of the way, he only had three words. "I love you."

Masterlist

#batfam #batfamily #batman #dc #bruce wayne x reader #batman smut #batman x reader #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne

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little-annie · 4 months ago

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T| WC 1k | Steddie | Uncle Wayne POV

"You love him don't you?" Wayne whispers, breathy, quiet, his voice cracking around the edges of something that feels like raw emotion.

It's then that Eddie turns his gaze away from Steve to look at him, the light never fading from his eyes and the smile never wiping from his face.

Steve's sitting on the trailer floor, in the middle of the living room, Eddie's clothes hanging from his body as he flips through one of Eddie's many monster manuals. Wayne knows the boy would never admit it, but he's just as interested in D&D as the other kids. He's helping Eddie plan his next campaign for christ sake.

Next to Wayne, two cans of coke in hand and a love struck smile on his face, Eddie nods, his cheeks darkening as his smile ever so slightly fades. "Is that okay?" He asks, looking all the bit nervous as his eyes roam Wayne's face.

"More than okay, Son."

Eddie's smile brightens once again and if Wayne notices the small amount of tears welling in his eyes, he says nothing about.

"You ever going to tell him?" Wayne continues, nodding in Steve's direction, the boy still oblivious to the conversation being whispered behind his back.

"I don't know if I can."

Wayne says nothing to Eddie's reply as he watches the boy return to the living room where he sits down next to his best friend. Steve smiling bright as the sun upon Eddie's return.

Months go by and Wayne gets to watch as Steve falls too. It's there and so obvious to anyone but Eddie.

His eyes linger and his smile never fades. Soon Wayne sees as he sits a little closer and his cheeks grow a little pinker.

There's moments when Wayne catches what he can only describe as a love struck expression across Steve's face. Eddie's talking, because when is he not, and Steve's there, eyes wide and locked onto Eddie's ever changing expression.

He looks fond. Fond in a way Wayne's never seen anyone look at his nephew.

There's moments when he sees Steve hesitant. Moments when he and Eddie are so close and Steve's hand twitches like it wants to reach out. Moments when Steve looks like he wants to lean in but bites his lip and turns away with rosy cheeks.

It's nearly a year into their friendship when Steve's standing at Wayne's side and whispers, "I think I love him."

"Tell him," Wayne answers easily, leaving out the 'please' he so desperately wants to tack onto the end of that sentence.

Please, he thinks again as he watches Eddie turn to face them from across the yard, a smile so beautiful Wayne thinks it's the first time he's seen it on Eddie's face. The boy's elbow deep in his van as his cheeks grow a little pinker as he says with a smile, "Stevie, come here for a sec."

Steve leaves, but not before whispering back to Wayne, "I think I will."

No more than a week later Wayne comes home to find the boys on the couch, Steve sleeping and curled into Eddie's side, snoring with his nose pressed to Eddie's neck.

Wayne offers his boy a smile as he stirs from the sound of the door closing. He looks tired, arms tightening around Steve's waist as he smiles back and burrows closer, kissing the top of Steve's head before drifting back off.

"He loves me," Eddie says one evening, weeks down the road, a rare occasion when Steve isn't over, and Eddie's actually home.

Wayne smiles, his heart so warm and full as he says, "I know."

Steve's been over for a few weeks now. Part of Wayne's convinced he's moved in, what with the new additions to their fridge and bathroom vanity. The idea doesn't upset him in the least.

He's gotten to witness their love grow during that time anyway.

He's gotten to witness the way Steve kisses a grumpy Eddie good morning until he finally smiles.

Or the way Eddie lights up when Steve's arms wrap around his waist and he whispers an "I love you, Eds," that Wayne isn't sure if he's supposed to hear.

Or the way they giggle and kiss and love one another in such a beautiful and uninhibited way.

Granted too, sometimes that means Wayne's hears a bit too much. Eddie would be mortified to know there's been far too many occasions in which Wayne's had to leave the trailer to escape the gasping breaths that occasionally pour out from under his bedroom door.

Though this time, Wayne's inside as the boys are on the roof smoking and he thanks the lord above that all he can hear are the faintest of whispers.

There's only parts of the conversation that he catches, but his heart swells when he hears Eddie's voice so clearly say, "I'm gonna marry you someday, Steve Harrington."

Wayne cries the day Eddie shows him the ring.

And cries even harder when Steve shows him his.

Steve's hand is shaking where the single golden band lies on his ring finger, Eddie standing directly behind him, arm around his waist with a smile that matches Steve's in the way it resembles Sunshine.

They can't marry, not legally anyways. But that doesn't stop Jim Hopper from officiating a ceremony or Joyce Byers from walking Steve down the aisle.

The backyard to Hoppers cabin is filled with faces Wayne has grown familiar with over the years. Young and old, smiling and crying all the same.

Dustin and Robin both write speeches, both as rambling and as funny as they are beautifully heart wrenching.

There's not a dry eye in the house.

The boys move into an apartment where they build a life together.

Wayne visits often for meals or a cup of coffee in the mornings, still delighting in the way his Eddie seems so wonderfully overcome with love and affection.

He'd thought he'd shed enough tears for his lifetime at the wedding, but one evening, sat at the table with Robin Buckley and his boys, Wayne finds out he's gonna be a grandpa.

Elaine Birdie Munson is her name.

Sunshine, they call her instead.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie fandom #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #steddie au #uncle wayne pov #supportive uncle wayne #uncle wayne #uncle wayne is the best #wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #old fic

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dollishmehrayan · 27 days ago

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BATBOYS GENERAL HCS DURING DATING ── .✦

a/n: my posts are barely getting engagement so it would be nice to reblog + like + cmmt tysm! Also

I’m so tired because I don’t know what I want to do with myself when like writing because I don’t have much ideas yk, (I do have a lottt of ideas just don’t want to like spam and idk how to like execute it correctly so ya) but I’m so grateful I’m back!

(Tags: batboys general hcs + fem!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Compliments: Dick will compliment you constantly, but they’re the slightly extra kind. “You look like you just walked off the cover of a magazine… Or like you’re about to rob a bank with your style, and I’m here for it.”

Date Nights: Dick is a hopeless romantic mixed a romantic flirty person. He'll plan elaborate date nights that are almost too perfect. You're having a candlelit dinner on a rooftop... until a mosquito swoops by, and you both spend 20 minutes trying to catch it.

Awkwardly Adorable: Dick tries so hard to be smooth, but when it’s just the two of you, he ends up tripping over his words, saying things like “I love you… like… in a non-creepy way… I mean, I know that sounds creepy but—“, “you know dick, you could’ve just told me you loved me no need for all that extra yapping.”

Sharing Food: He can’t resist sharing his food with you but will dramatically defend his fries. “No, you can't have any. This is the last one. You’ll be fine. It’s called 'the sacrifice of love.'”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Grumpy But Cute: Jason might be brooding and grumpy on the outside, but once he gets comfortable with you, he’s a sucker for giving you the best hugs. They’re just not as soft as you expect, because, well, he’s Red Hood and that’s not very 'soft' in his book.

Love Language: He definitely has a love language of throwing sarcastic remarks at you to show affection. “I’m just saying, you look so good, I might actually let you live longer than five minutes without me.”

Meme Sharing: Jason will share the funniest memes with you, and he will laugh harder than anyone else when you send him a reaction meme. You two could spend hours going through meme after meme while ignoring his patrol responsibilities.

Late Night Conversations: He’s always the first to text at 3 am just to say, “I’m not okay. Also, I think I might’ve made pasta in the Batcave, but it’s 80% burnt and half of the 20% is missing on the ground in other words, it’s fully burnt. You in?”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Puns & Dad Jokes: Tim is the king of puns. You might be mid-sentence talking about something serious, and he’ll sneak in, “Well, that’s egg-sactly what I was thinking.”

Organizing Everything: Tim will have a notebook just for your relationship. He organizes things like "future plans," "annoying habits to change," and “how we can both pretend to be normal in public.”

Overthinking: Tim might send you long, thoughtful texts about nothing and everything, then panic and delete them. Later, you get a short text that says, “Hey, I like you. It’s cool. Let’s go save Gotham.”

Netflix & Research: On date nights, Tim is all about watching a documentary on some obscure topic. You wanted to watch a rom-com? Nope. Tim says, “Let’s learn about the history of ancient pizza ovens.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Fiercely Protective: Damian will go full boss mode in a relationship. If someone even looks at you wrong, he’s ready to challenge them to a duel. You’ve never seen someone challenge a guy at the coffee shop to a sword fight over a latte until you met him.

Literally Shakespeare: He has this bizarre habit of reciting random Shakespeare quotes when trying to express his feelings. “My love for you is like a tempest, crashing and relentless. Also, I think you forgot to add sugar in my coffee.”

Jealousy: He’ll get jealous of even the smallest things. That random guy who offered to help you with your grocery bags? Damian’s glaring at them from across the parking lot, preparing his “You’re not worthy” speech.

Tenderness: Don’t be fooled by his brooding exterior. Damian will get you flowers (in his own way) — like a very dramatic single red rose that he purchased with the least amount of emotion possible, but you know he spent an hour picking the perfect one.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Grumpy But Loyal: Bruce is that partner who takes a long time to warm up to things, but once he’s in, he’s in 100%. He’ll still be grumpy, though. If you show up in a bat-themed shirt, you’ll get a raised eyebrow and a grunt that could probably level an entire building.

Affectionate In His Own Way: Bruce will bring you your favorite coffee without asking because he’s been paying attention to your usual order for the past six months. But if you say anything about it, he’ll act like he’s annoyed. “I’m Batman. I don’t do things for people.”

Overprotective: He’ll put the Batcomputer between the two of you if he’s feeling protective, even if it’s completely unnecessary. Someone bumps into you? Bruce is already three steps ahead, tracking their life history and figuring out their deepest secrets, just in case.

Romantic, But Quiet About It: Bruce can’t show his love through words, but the way he gives you his jacket when it’s cold speaks volumes. Of course, he acts like it was an accident. “I didn’t want you to catch a cold, that’s all. I’m not a softy, don’t read into it.”

GENERAL TRAITS FOUND IN THEM ── .✦

Matching Outfits: They’ll all pretend like they’re too cool for matching outfits, but one day they’ll catch themselves accidentally twinning with you, and neither of you can ever act normal again.

In Public: They’ll all act like they don’t care if you hold their hand in public, but if anyone tries to grab your hand instead, they’ll give them a glare that could freeze a person in place.

Batman’s Turtleneck: Every Batboy secretly loves when Bruce wears his iconic black turtleneck and glasses. They all think Bruce looks like a mysterious intellectual, and they might just start commenting on it to mess with him. Bruce is too focused on Gotham to care.

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waynes-multiverse · 9 months ago

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Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

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#dirty drabbles #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester reader inser #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic

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rin-may-1103 · 7 months ago

Text

The Wrong Robin Au (part three)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny never said he knew what he was doing, but he thinks he's doing something right if the kid hasn't started crying yet. so you know, that's great. now, he just needed to get the kid out of here, so Danny could have a moment to mourn his retirement plans.

He wasn't going to blame the kid, ancients know Danny would have gone back to hero work eventually. He just couldn't let things go if he could help it, and he could in this situation.

"Alright, here's the plan." Danny announced, slapping his legs as he stood up. "it's late, you're a kid who needs sleep. let's get you home, then we can get a game plan on how to do this."

Tim had been nodding his head, even if it was reluctantly, before freezing in sudden realization. Danny raised his eyebrow in question, wondering what was wrong now.

"you want my help?" Tim asked, absolutely gobsmacked.

Oh, the kid thought Danny was just going to send him away like any reasonable adult would. Ha, Danny wished. but no. He had no clue what he was doing and this kid was his only trump card for making any of the half-assed plans still forming in his head work. AND he had a feeling if he didn't keep Tim close by, the kid would run off and do something stupid.

"Yep," Danny snorted, "you were smart enough to figure out who Batman was, and then you decided to take it upon yourself to help him; whether by convincing me to do it or yourself."

"Now then," Danny said as he walked over to the couch and pulled his hoodie from under Sam. Sam, to her credit, told him to fuck off and went back to snoring. Tucker, somehow having heard her, responded with a 'Go fuck yourself'.

Shaking his head, Danny turned back to Tim. "Let's get going. It's-" Danny turned to look at the clock, his eyes narrowing when he found it; 4 am. The kid was up and coherent enough to try and blackmail someone into being Robin at four in the morning. "-four. you seriously need to get some sleep kid. It's a school night." actually, what day was it???

Tim rolled his eyes but started to follow Danny out the door. "It's Saturday, and I've stayed up longer," he grumbled.

Danny snorted, "So have I, but we still need to sleep." He should probably try and prevent the kid from staying up longer than he should. Danny knows what years of not sleeping properly does to someone. The kid's obsessed with Batman and Robin, right? He'll just use them then.

"Robin needs all the sleep he can get. Otherwise, Batman will bench him. If Robin is benched, then who is out there helping Batman?" That's convincing, right? Does Batman even have the power to bench Robin? From the sounds of it, Robin is his kid's vigilante name. Which means he totally has the power to ground them.

Wait...

If Danny was going to be Robin, does that mean Batman would think he's his kid?

Oh, hell naw. He was not going to be adopted by another fruitloop! If Bruce Wayne even thinks about it, Danny will be out of there so fast even the Flash couldn't stop him.

Tim stumbled, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?" he asks, turning to look at Danny in horror. Danny blinked, brain failing to remember why the kid would be surprised.

shit, what were they talking about?? Robin... It's four am... Right!

"Yep," Danny chirped, leading the kid to his car. "Now, I know everyone says not to get into a stranger's car and all that jazz, but it's the only way I'm getting you home. So, hop in."

Tim didn't even hesitate to jump into the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt across his chest. Danny stared at him for a second, before opening the car door and sitting down.

"kid, you do know you're not supposed to get into strangers' cars, right?" Danny asked, closing the door and buckling up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his keys and started the engine.

"Well, yeah?" Tim replied, turning to face him, "But you're not a stranger. You're Robin. You protect people not hurt them."

and well? Danny can't argue with that, now, can he?

"Right, fine. Just promise not to get into strangers' cars. I don't care how much you think you know about them. It's not safe, and you could get hurt."

Tim hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, alright. I promise."

"good." Danny sighed, turning to look at the road to see if it was clear. then he sighed again, "Don't tell strangers where you live, please."

Tim looked at him in amusement, a small smile spreading across his face. "Drake manor. 1015 Mountain Drive. It's in the Crest Hill community."

"You're killing me here, kid." Danny groaned, hitting his head against the steering wheel. Then he slowly lifted his head and turned to stare at Tim, "Kid. How the hell did you get all the way over here? Mountain Drive is all the way over in Bristol??? That's, like, twelve miles outside of city limits?"

"I have my ways."

Danny narrowed his eyes, "You bribed someone, didn't you."

Tim looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers.

sighing, Danny sat up and started driving down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the chaos that was Gotham City as they drove. Tim eventually slumped over, his head resting against the window.

It took a good thirty minutes before Danny could turn onto the bridge out of town. The traffic wasn't heavy, just the occasional car here and there. It was almost peaceful.

"Turn here," Tim suddenly instructed, startling Danny.

"Tim!" Danny cried, turning to look at the kid, then back at the road. although, he did do as the kid instructed. "don't do that! you'll give me a heart attack or something! Ancients!"

Tim blinked, then shrugged. "ok," he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"my house is the one with really stupid-looking ducks carved into the gates." Tim supplied, waving his hand at the road ahead of them. "Bruce's is the one with bats, but you knew that."

"Right," Danny agreed. What were the chances that Batman happened to live in a place called Gotham and in a house with black iron gates covered in bats? It was almost as coincidental as Danny's last name sounding like Phantom. Fate really had quite the sense of humor, didn't they?

after they passed a few more dirt roads, Tim pointed at a specific one, "Turn here. The gates a little further back than everyone else's."

Danny hummed, turning the car onto the road. What was his life at this point? Driving children to their huge houses at four-thirty in the morning? agreeing to become Robin? coming out of retirement because a kid asked him to?

Bruce Wayne better appreciate all the effort this kid was going through...

A tall gate slowly popped into view, making Danny slow the car down until he could stop right in front of it. "Alright, kid. You're home. get some sleep. Go to school, I don't know, what do you rich kids do on the weekends? actually, you know what? It doesn't matter, do you have a phone?"

Tim blinked as he slowly unbuckled, "yes?"

"One that's not monitored by your parents or anyone else?"

"..."

Danny sighed, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Here," Danny unlocked it, went to settings and pressed the factory rest option. Once the phone finished the reset, he quickly scanned through it to make sure it was all gone before adding his second phone number. once done, he tossed it over to the kid. "here, should work for now. Don't let anyone else have it."

If this was any other situation, Danny would have gone straight to the kid's parents; but considering it was past four in the morning and there wasn't a city-wide amber alert? He has a feeling the kid needs a safety net, and well? What better than a direct line to him?

"I can't just take your phone!" Tim cried, catching the phone before it could fall to the ground.

"It's my backup one. I tend to break my phone pretty often, so I always keep an extra one on me. my current number is saved on it, you can reach out and get in contact with me now." Danny waved off the kid's concern, reaching into the back of the car to grab a bag.

with how often his phone had broken during ghost fights and how frequently his parents dissected his phone for parts? It's a habit at this point to have a backup. or Ten. Pulling the bag to the front, Danny showed the kid what was inside.

"..." Tim blinked, then looked up at Danny. "why do you have a bag of broken phones in your car?"

"Because my phones keep breaking and I figured it would be easier to just keep them for extra parts than toss them. Now," Danny tossed the bag into the back, ignoring how it tipped over and spilled the contents all over the seat. He'd clean it up later. Maybe. "It's early. You need sleep, I need sleep. We can pick another day to sit down and build a game plan."

Tim sat in silence for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands, before glancing up at Danny. "You really mean it?" he asked, turning the phone around anxiously, "you really want my help?"

"kid, Tim," Danny started, tilting his head so he could make eye contact. "with how bad you say Batman's gotten? I'm going to need all the help I can get. Who better than the one who went out of his way to try and actually do something about it?"

Tim's eyes watered as he looked back at the phone. "ok," he whispered, nodding his head. Reaching up, he wiped his face clean before taking a deep breath and letting it out.

"ok," he repeated, voice stronger now. "I'll help. I want to."

"Good," Danny nodded in agreement, then smiled. "get some sleep kid, you need it."

"I don't need it," Tim grumbled, turning to open the door and get out. "but if that's what it takes for you to allow me to help, then I guess I can take a nap or something."

Danny snorted, watching as Tim closed the car door and started making his way to the gate.

as soon as the kid was out of view, Danny slammed his head onto the steering wheel and groaned. He had definitely jinxed himself earlier. How hard can being Robin be? Yeah right. He hasn't even gotten to meet Bruce yet and he's already stressed.

...

Glancing up, Danny watched as the clock glitched then turned to five am.

...

Well then, he might as well do something productive since it was unlikely he'd be getting any more sleep if he went back. Sam would be up by the time he got there, which meant he'd have to answer all of her questions... which would wake Tucker up, which would mean Danny'd have to explain all over again.

Glancing around, Danny suddenly realized something.

Batman.

Bruce Wayne was Batman.

Bruce Wayne; as in, Gotham's own himbo billionaire.

Who lives in Bristol.

Which is where he is right now. Logically speaking, he'd be able to find it pretty fast if he just looked at the gates. It's probably just a few houses from Tim's too, now that he thought about it...

Oh, this was a terrible idea, but when had that ever stopped Danny?

Jazz was so going to kill him for this.

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couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 3 months ago

Note

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

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clockwayswrites · 8 days ago

Text

For the Birdicts. Part 27

Masterpost

There were gentle fingers in his wings.

Danny muffled the sleepy, hysterical chuckle at that thought into the soft surface that he was tucked against. He really had hoped that he wouldn’t have wings any longer when he woke, but when had he ever been that lucky.

The fingers stilled.

“Danny?” The person rumbled.

Very much did not wanting to be awake, Danny replied with a disgruntled grumble.

A chuckle answered him back. The finger picked back up the gentle touch to Danny’s wings. As Danny’s mind continued to come online, he realized that the fingers were fixing and straightening the mussed feathers.

It actually felt rather nice.

Danny let himself continue to drift for a little longer. Let his wings be cared for. The soft, unflinching touch helped make the new limbs feel less unnatural, even if the weight of them were still heavy on his back. He felt unsteady as he sat up.

The hands moved from his wings to help brace Danny.

“Careful, you might be a little disoriented. It’s been quite a day.”

Bruce. Apparently he’d fallen asleep on top of Bruce. He hadn’t needed to embarrass himself any more that day and yet there he was, falling asleep on Bruce Wayne after a panic attack.

Danny pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and hoped he wasn’t blushing too horribly. “I am so sorry.”

“For what?” Bruce asked. He sounded genuinely confused.

“Falling asleep on you, apparently.” And really on Bruce it seemed. Even sitting up and back he was still practically on the other man’s lap.

(Worse, Danny really just wanted to curl back up and sleep some more.)

“Oh,” Bruce said with a chuckle. “With how large a family I have, that’s nothing to worry about. I’m very used to being a pillow for others. Besides, you needed the rest and after today it’s more than understandable that you’d want someone close.”

That was… fair enough, Danny supposed. He took a deep breath and lowered his hands to cross them over his bare chest. He offered Bruce an apologetic little smile. “Still…”

“Still nothing,” Bruce said and waved the matter aside. “Now, Jason and Dick are back from your place. They weren’t able to find any clothing that would work around your wings there.”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Ah, they wouldn’t. I haven’t… it hasn’t been long enough to deal with that even if I knew where to start.”

“Luckily for you, we haven an Alfred,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and and grabbed something fabric from off of the coffee table. “He worked his magic and modified this into something that should work around your wings.”

“Really?” Danny took what looked like just a well worn Gotham Knights sweatshirt and turned it over in his hands. Oh, Alfred really had worked his magic. Danny ran his fingers over the cut and stitched splits in fabric and the snaps under them. “Wow, he just went and made this?”

“Alfred is a man of many skills and not to be underestimated,” Bruce said with a chuckle. “I’m sure that he’ll ask you if it needs any changes before he does any other versions.”

“Other versions?”

“Something to sleep in and another shirt at least ,” Bruce said as if that clarified much of anything. “Since we aren’t sure how long the wings will last and you should be comfortable here.”

“He really—I mean I appreciate it so much,” Danny said as he pulled on the sweater quickly, “but Alfred doesn’t need to put all that effort into this for me.”

“You really can’t stop him. The comfort of people in this manor are paramount to him and he has something in his mind now to improve your comfort,” Bruce said. “He will think that this is the least that he can do.”

Danny blinked at that. “I’m a little scared of what he thinks I the most he can do then.”

“You should be. He is a force of nature. If you’ll turn, I’ll do up the snaps for you,” Bruce said.

Danny gratefully twisted, glad he was turned so that Bruce didn’t see his wince.

“I imagine that your back must be sore from this,” Bruce said, ruining Danny’s hope that he hid his pain. “I will find where one of the heating pads are for you to use later.”

“It’s fine,” Danny said quickly. “I don’t want to—”

“Danny,” Bruce spoke over him. His hands gently smoothed down the fabric under Danny’s wings. “You saved my family today. Even beyond that, my children seem to have become quite fond of you. You aren’t a bother. While you are here to have the help, let us take care of you a little, please?”

Danny chewed on his lip.

“If nothing else, it will help the children worry less.”

There really was no refusing that, was there?

“Only so people don’t worry,” Danny said. “And I do mean ‘people’. Don’t think that you’re hiding your worry.”

Luckily Bruce chuckled a that. “Hiding my worry is something I’m not very good at. And yes, I am a worrier. My children have told me that enough times that I accept the title.”

“Well, as long as you know,” Danny said as he stood. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks between the conversation and Bruce’s hands against his back and just needed to take a moment to just breathe. The wings shifted with the deep breath, rising and falling into a relaxed fan.

“I know that you have understandable issues with the wings,” Bruce said softly from behind Danny, “but they really are quite stunning.”

Even the back of Danny’s neck felt hot now and he rubbed at it as he cleared his throat. “I, um, thank you.”

Bruce gave a soft hum. He must have stood too because a moment later a hand brushed over Danny’s wings and then Bruce was beside him. “Let’s go track down some of my children so we can make sure they brought everything you need.”

“Right, yeah, that’s a good idea. Lead the way.”

#dp x dc #danny/bruce #spirit halloween ship #birdritch

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1mlei · 2 months ago

Text

Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 3]

In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.

First part | Previous part | Next part | Masterpost

One thing that Jason hated about being the adopted son of Bruce Wayne was when he had to accompany the man to galas and other public events.

Bruce was very understanding, he would let Jason stay back home for most of the events he attended, but as Bruce's son Jason could only skip out on so many events before people started asking questions.

Granted, there was no reason why Jason was skipping out other than that he simply did not want to go, but the fewer people asking questions the better.

And so, Jason begrudgingly dressed up in a disgustingly expensive suit, put on a fake smile and pretended to be someone he was not to the faces of the same people who would turn their noses up at him as soon as they thought he, and more importantly Bruce, couldn't see.

It was exhausting to be honest, but Jason understood why it was necessary. These people were like bloodhounds when it came to sniffing out drama and gossip. If they got even the slightest hint that there was something weird going on in Wayne Manor they would not rest until they found something.

Of course their secret night-time activities were better hidden than that, but it was better not to give the socialites a reason to suspect anything in the first place.

Still, after nearly an hour of just wandering around exchanging fake smiles and empty small talk Jason was getting bored.

He headed over towards the refreshments, hoping to bring his energy back up even just a little bit.

As he made his way over, Jason took note of a girl who looked to be around his age, wearing a black and purple dress. She seemed to be inspecting some of the available appetizers with an odd intensity.

Jason silently walked up next to her, sure to keep a polite amount of space between them as he picked up one of the fancy foods that looked good enough for him.

He turned to look at the girl who still appeared to be judging the table, from this angle he could see she was wearing quite dark makeup, and more eyeliner than half the women in the room put together. He thought it suited her well.

She must have sensed his eyes on her, because she stopped her judging of the food and turned to meet his gaze instead, one eyebrow quirked in a silent question.

Jason tried for a casual, friendly tone as he spoke,

"Is something wrong with the food? Or did that one sandwich just happen to offend you?"

The girl gave him a weird look, but shook her head,

"No, just hoped there would be more options, there's meat on almost everything."

Jason looked back at the table, and she was right. The vegetarian options were quite limited.

Before he could think of something to say the girl sighed and turned to face away from the table,

"Whatever, it's not like I was that hungry anyway, just wanted something to do before I die of boredom."

As Jason quickly finished his own appetizer he smirked at her,

"Now that is something I can relate to. If I have to pretend to care about the weather one more time tonight I swear my brain will melt."

The girl let out a short huff of laughter than sounded like it agreed with him, which Jason took as a victory. Look at him go, actually having a somewhat friendly conversation at one of these events. Who would have thought?

The girl seemed to have the same thoughts, as she reached out a hand towards him,

"It's nice to know someone here has some sense. I'm Sam Manson."

Jason shook her hand with a smile,

"Jason Wayne"

Sam had a mischievous smile on her face as she answered,

"Oh I know, even if I didn't recognize you I could have guessed by the looks my parents are sending me."

Jason looked to the side discreetly until his eyes landed on a middle aged couple that were sending twin icy glares their way. He recognized a few people in their circle as some of the more influential guests in attendance tonight, and was sure that had that not been the case they would be rushing over to fetch their daughter.

He turned back as Sam continued,

"They definitely think I'm bothering you, talking about boring things like environmentalism or animal cruelty. Suppose I should go bat my eyelashes at some other rich guy that can talk about important things like his own money for a full hour."

She sent him a pained grimace as she started backing away, and Jason laughed sympathetically,

"Best of luck with that, it was nice meeting you Sam."

She nodded at him with a smile,

"You too Jason."

Then she walked away, soon getting absorbed into a circle of people to join a conversation Jason was sure was absolutely riveting.

He let out a short sigh, steeling himself before he walked off in another direction, doing the same thing.

When Sam said that she was dying of boredom, she was being polite.

She was regretting agreeing to come to this stupid gala by now.

When her parents had first asked Sam to attend with them she hadn't even heard them out before she turned them down, which they knew to expect.

That was definitely why they had immediately dropped the bomb that the gala was happening in Gotham of all places.

They knew exactly how badly Sam wanted to visit the city, the Gothic architecture speaking to her soul. While her parents didn't necessarily approve of her love for the dark and gloomy, they sure knew how to use it to their advantage.

With the added promise that she'd have plenty of free time after the gala to properly experience the city, she was sold.

Sam had even compromised with her mother when it came to her dress. Her mother wanted her in a pink and poofy abomination of a dress, while Sam insisted on her usual black.

They had met somewhere in the middle for once, the dress having none of the pink, but a lot of the poof. Since she'd had to choose between sacrificing color or shape, Sam would have to live with the inconvenient skirt, it was far better than the slimmer pastel pink dress her mother had tried to get her into. And the dress even had purple accents, that was close enough to pink.

After Sam reminded her parents that darker colours would probably suit the theme better than pink, they had agreed. She had even been able to sneakily put on some makeup in her usual style.

Considering both the setting and her attire, this was overall one of the more bearable galas Sam had attended.

But after having enough bland small talk to last her a lifetime in the span of one night she was ready to gouge her own eyes out.

She'd had the one short encounter with one Jason Wayne, who was very down to earth for being the son of the richest man there. Though, she supposed given his background that was to be expected.

She wasn't complaining, even just one conversation that didn't melt her brain was an accomplishment in her book. Unfortunately, she knew by the looks her parents sent her that the longer she kept 'bothering' a Wayne the more she'd have to pay for it later.

So she had grumpily walked away, engaging in a few more basic conversations as she went. She knew that most people in attendance didn't pay her much mind. The rebellious daughter of one of the less stinking rich families there, she didn't exactly have a lot of pull.

Good, she would prefer they not acknowledge her at all to be honest.

Eventually though, Sam gave in and snuck her phone out to text her friends for a distraction. Tucker was unhelpful like expected, happy to laugh at her suffering. She sent a vaguely threatening text his way, which had the desired effect of shutting him up.

Luckily, Sam had at least one friend that could sympathise with her. Maybe it was due to Danny's new responsibilities as prince, he was suddenly much more understanding about having to put up with high society.

Danny: you want me to swoop in and save you yet? :P

Sam: at this point i'd take a rogue attacking us over staying here any longer.

Tucker: you know saying that shit in gotham is just asking for trouble

Sam: I swear I'm gonna do it, fucking watch me.

Tucker: aight lemme just hack into the cameras real quick

Danny: can we try not to provoke Fate more than necessary? that's gonna become my problem soon :(

Sam: Yes we know, it's very sad. You know what else is sad? The things I'm about to do to the next old geezer that tells me to smile :)

Danny: alright let's not resort to murder maybe. omw.

Sam: Murder would be the kind option, I'm not feeling kind.

But also not a great idea, if my parents see me leave I'm dead.

Danny: easy solution, they won't see you leave

meet me outside in 20

there is a balcony, right? or else this is awkward

After assuring her friend that there was indeed a balcony, Sam slowly made her way outside. She only got caught up in a few short conversations on her way, and before too long she was stepping out into the chilly fall air.

She leaned against the railing, looking out over the Gotham skyline. The heavy pollution of the city made truly fresh air hard to come by, but at least it was pleasantly brisk outside. It certainly helped Sam wake her mind up after too much time spent in brain-dead conversation.

She shifted her gaze down to the cityscape spread out below her, well aware that she wouldn't see Danny coming. He would probably be flying invisibly before he even crossed the state border just to be safe. The last thing he wanted was Batman's attention.

Danny had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that he would inevitably meet some members of the Justice League at some point, especially once he became king, but for now he was doing everything he could to stay off their radar.

At this point nobody in Amity wanted the JLA involved anymore, most people understood that the heroes were not properly equipped for the town at all, and considering the fact that the most likely outcome of the JLA showing up now was Phantom having to deal with a possessed Superman, the people of Amity Park were happy to keep the other heroes out of it.

The attacks had significantly died down over the past year anyway, as Danny came more to terms with his ghostly side. When the accident first happened he had been trying desperately to cling onto his humanity and deny most of his ghostliness, which had led to him not fully understanding the other ghosts.

Once Danny accepted that he wasn't fully human anymore, and that he was still the same person despite that fact, he had started learning more about his other half.

Turns out, in a dimension where all the residents are unkillable (since they're already dead) duking it out in a friendly brawl is considered normal. Once Danny learned about this, he'd started visiting the Realms more often.

He visited regularly to fight it out with his old rogues, to pay his less violent allies a visit, and in general just learn more about the culture.

It was during one such friendly visit that Danny had learned about the rules of conquest in the Infinite Realms. Upon defeating Pariah Dark he had immediately earned the title of Crown Prince, and was to be crowned King once he was of age.

Hadn't that been an unpleasant surprise? Danny rarely went more than a day without complaining about his future position.

As Sam was lost in thought, the cold bite in the air reminded her, it was already fall. The council had agreed to let Danny wait until the summer after he turned sixteen to be crowned.

His birthday had been a few weeks back, which meant there was less than a year left.

Sam was simultaneously sympathetic for her friend, since he clearly didn't want the title and the infinite power that came with it, but also incredibly proud of him.

Had it been anyone else receiving such a position she would have worried about what all that power would do to that person.

She did not have that worry when it came to Danny, that was what made him so incredible in her eyes. Only Danny could be handed the key to infinite power on a silver platter, and want to pass it on to someone else.

She realized her thoughts had started wandering like they usually did when she thought about her friend for too long, but she couldn't help it.

Two years ago Sam had been in love with Danny, and though they'd come to the joint decision that it was better far for them to stay friends, that didn't mean Sam's admiration for her friend would go away.

She had simply learned to love him as her best friend instead. Not that it had been easy, but Danny had been understanding. Had it not been for the fact that they both had their own soulmates somewhere out there waiting for them they might have tried harder at making a relationship work, but it simply wasn't meant to be.

After emotions had settled a bit they had grown all the closer for it, a new sort of understanding between them.

Finally, after Sam had been standing there reminiscing for nearly ten minutes, she felt a familiar comforting chill in the air next to her, and just a second later Danny faded into view leaning casually against the railing next to her with a shit-eating grin on his face,

"Sorry to keep you waiting, traffic was awful on the way here."

Sam pointedly rolled her eyes at Danny's usual dry humor, but let go of the railing to face him instead,

"Let's leave quickly, my parents have definitely noticed I'm missing and I'd rather not be here if they come looking."

Danny let out out a quick "Yes ma'am", wrapping one arm around her waist, fumbling for a second trying to find her legs through the stupid poofy skirt. Sam sighed is exasperation and pulled at her dress to get it out of the way,

"Unfortunately it was this or bright pink, so we'll have to live with the extra skirts."

This time, Danny easily scooped her up bridal style, the skirt bunched up in Sam's lap. Had this been two years ago there would have been a fluttering feeling in her chest, but that was then, and Sam had long since gotten over those feelings. Instead, she just sighed when he quirked an eyebrow at her,

"Live?"

Sam smacked him in the shoulder,

"You know what I meant, now get going ghost boy."

Danny, used to Sam's dismissal of his jokes by now, did as she said and lifted off the ground slowly, letting his invisibility wash over the both of them, and then he was off into the night sky.

They'd have to return to Sam's hotel room before her parents, but that wouldn't happen for at least a few more hours.

Until then, an aerial tour of Gotham didn't sound too bad.

Jason had quickly grown bored of the dull conversations again.

He carefully excused himself from the older woman who was talking his ear off, and tried to act like he had a destination in mind as he walked away.

He ended up taking refuge in a corner that was conveniently covered, he doubted anyone would notice him staying back there for a few minutes as he took a breather.

However, after only a moment of taking cover, he spotted a familiar figure across the room. The one person he'd had a bearable conversation with during the night was walking out onto the balcony.

He considered it for a minute. He didn't want to intrude if Sam was trying to get some time to herself like him, but he also thought she had seemed to appreciate a normal human to talk to just as much as him. Surely she wouldn't mind his company too much?

Mind made up, Jason decided that he could use some fresh air himself and started slowly making his way over.

He took his time walking over, stopping to suffer through one more conversation on the way as he allowed some time to pass. He didn't want to rush after Sam the moment she walked away on her own and risk coming across wrong, he just wanted some air and decent conversation, damn it.

Maybe he could ask her about the environment to break the ice, it had been the first example she gave of a topic she supposedly liked to talk about, so she must have some interest in it. Jason wasn't overly excited by the topic, but it was sure to be more interesting than anything else being talked about in the room.

Maybe he could test the waters and see if Sam was interested in books at all, that might actually wake him up. She seemed like a person who would enjoy a good book. Maybe they could exchange recommendations.

Spurred on by the lure of talking to someone who both didn't care who his dad was and had more to talk about than business, Jason once again made his way towards the balcony after a few more minutes.

As Jason walked out into the pleasantly chilly air, he stopped short as soon as he laid eyes on Sam.

She wasn't alone.

That wouldn't be a problem on it's own obviously, they'd had one short conversation, Jason really didn't care who she talked to.

No, the problem was exactly who she was with.

Jason couldn't see the stranger's face, as both of them had their backs turned his way. All Jason could make out from behind were a pair of fully black cargo pants and a black hoodie with some white highlights. They matched the shock of white hair on their head, it was so bright it may have been glowing. Actually, the stranger's whole body appeared to be giving off a faint glow.

Jason was confused, he was pretty damn sure this stranger had not been at the gala. So how the hell had they gotten to the balcony?

Jason stuck to the shadows as he snuck closer, trying to get a better look.

He was stopped short after just a few more steps.

There was no way.

Feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, Jason shakily pulled at the sleeve of his suit jacket.

The heart was beating again.

Jason's brain fumbled with the different pieces of the puzzle.

His soulmate was nearby, and the only people close enough were Sam and the newcomer. He'd had a whole conversation with Sam earlier, and his tattoo had firmly remained still. He remembers shaking her hand, and his tattoo stayed mockingly black.

But now it was beating, and there was only one other person present.

A person who had an oddly inhuman look about them.

Jason thought back to the last time he'd felt his tattoo move. He had been sure that he'd been saved by the ghost of his soulmate.

His soulmate had been dead for two years, yet they were standing in front of him. But they did not look like a.. regular person. Or a living person, rather.

Was his soulmate really a ghost? If so, how were they here?

And why were they here talking to someone other than Jason?

When his soulmate had saved him from.. something.. Jason had been sure that they came to him specifically to protect him. He'd taken comfort, in the fact that his other half had done something so impossible, had crossed the line between life and death just to save him. To give Jason something they didn't get, a life to live.

As Jason fumbles, not knowing what to do but knowing he should do something, anything, the pair in front of him move. The stranger smoothly picked Sam up bridal style after a short struggle with her skirt. Jason has barely a second to hurriedly walk towards them before gravity seems to disregard the pair, and they float upward slowly before fading from sight completely.

Jason's breath catches in his throat, and he knows they're gone because the pleasant chill that had enveloped him the moment he walked onto the balcony goes with them, and all that remains is the biting cold of the fall weather.

So, floating away and turning invisible, they sure seem like the traits of a ghost. But really, what did he expect? Jason's soulmate was dead, there was no other explanation.

No, what bothered him, was that Jason had spent one year thinking he would never get to meet his soulmate, then another thinking he'd have to wait for the afterlife to meet them. That had been some comfort, he'd live the life his soulmate wanted him to, then they'd be united when it was time.

But his soulmate had been there. Fully visible, corporeal, and they had been there to meet someone else. Did Jason not matter to them, the way they did to Jason?

Jason had felt the heart on his wrist beat before they had flown off, so surely his soulmate's heart did the same. And yet, they had simply left without sparing Jason even a glance.

Jason slowly walked over to where his soulmate had been standing mere moments ago, using the railing to steady himself as he looked out over Gotham. His soulmate was out there somewhere, in the same city, and yet Jason had no way to reach them.

Feeling more alone than he's felt in many years, Jason just stands there. He sheds no physical tears, but the cityscape grows blurry in front of him as his eyes grow misty. He doesn't let a single sound escape his lips, ignoring the cries lodged in his throat.

But inside, the cries of his heart resounds through his entire being as he grieves the loss of his soulmate once again.

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#danny phantom #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #jason todd #soulmate au #dead on main #dc x dp #dcxdp

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