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#the batman (2022) x reader
ladysmutwriter · 2 months
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Morantic: Better luck next time. (1)
Bruce Wayne/Batman x Female Reader.
Inspired by "There is no good or bad, just actions".
⚠️: This chapter does not include anything NSFW, however the next chapters will include graphic content. MDNI, dub-con, violence, stalking, obsessive love disorder, eventual smut.
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You stared at the window, seeing your town slowly go tinier and disappear as you went into unknown territory. Your hands nervously played with themselves, picking at your skin as the train softly moved, the occasional sound of someone coughing or someone with their phone wathing videos being the only things distracting you.
Searching in your bag, you took out your printed curriculum, such a simple paper yet it included so much from you: your full name, capacities, where you studied, etc. Your parents had made sure you never missed a single class, even in university. They had made sure to give you the best tutors; without them, you'd never have been as prepared as you were today, and now your biggest test was about to begin. Gotham. A city with no laws, filled by sin and corruption, where the strongest survived and the weakest died with no mercy.
But you were here to make a change—you knew you had it in you.
As you drifted off thinking, you slowly closed your eyes, falling asleep as the day outside became darker 'til night arrived. A few hours later, the train stopped.
(...)
You walked to your new apartment, your low heels clicking against the dirty floor as you struggled to carry your heavy suitcase, filled with clothes and books. Opening the door, you felt the smell of moisture on the walls and dirty feet. You had some work to do; after all, this was your new home. The hours passed as you cleaned, your limbs aching as you made sure that no room smelt like shit, successfully making it look somewhat hygienic; you still had to buy furniture and some food; your stomach aching in hunger—outside the morning was arriving, the first rays of sun coloring the grim city, making you give a small smile—your first day here.
To no one's surprise, getting outside was awful. On your way to a furniture store, you saw homeless people eating rats all the way to someone being stabbed in an alley. But as you bought a simple bed (king-sized; you were a messy sleeper), some stuff for the kitchen, and a couch, you went to buy something to eat. On the way to it, you stopped at a drug store, buying a first aid kit since you never knew when you'd need it.
Going back home with a warm meal in a plastic bag and the other one filled with supplies, you arrived at your apartment. You looked at the hour, 3 PM; the furniture was supposed to arrive at 5 PM, so you had some time to kill.
Sitting down to eat as you watched Youtube on your phone, then you took a nap on the hard floor, the hours of no sleep taking a poll on you, and even if it was short and uncomfortable, that nap helped as you now felt ready to keep cleaning. A few minutes later, your doorbell rang; the furnite had arrived.
As the men let the boxes inside, you began decorating the place with the new stuff—the couch next to the window, the bed in the side room, etc.—and soon enough, it was 9 PM. Feeling your stomach growl as you felt hungry, you called for some Chinese takeout. Probably half an hour passed as you were called by the delivery man, and going down to the first floor, you picked it up, paid, and went up—except you heard something on the fire exit stairs, as if someone had collapsed on them.
Peeking your head out of the window, you saw someone in what seemed like full black armor slumped against the metal stairs outside your room, a puddle of blood running down his armor.
Groaning, you thought of your chances—you had heard something about this "vigilante" everyone called Batman, your guess being that this was him, or perhaps it was some sort of comic villain that once you healed him would gut you like fish. But your morals won the fight, and you decided to climb out of your window and drag him inside your home. It wasn't easy; he weighted a shit ton and was leaving a bloody mess as you dragged him through your floor. You laid him down on your couch, quickly taking off his chest plate to see how deep his wound was. And holy sh*t, were you met with a nice view, a nice, toned torso, pale skin covered by different scars, and soft skin to the touch? You had to take a deep breath as you collected your thoughts and went to heal him up.
It probably took you about an hour and a half to stitch his wound, clean the blood, etc. Your eyes tired as you yawned, feeling proud of your little work. Moving to discard the bloody gloves, you went outside for a smoke break, hoping the stranger would wake up and lean by himself so you'd avoid the uncomfortable moment of being like, "Hey, I sort of practiced my doctor skills on your unconscious body!" Yeah, that'd be too awful.
Thankfully for you, as you were on the metal staircase smoking, the man inside woke up, his senses being on high alert as his last memory was being stabbed on the chest, his eyes frantically moving around the room, only to find first aid kits and some boxes filled with house stuff. Seeing your shape outside the window as you smoked, he took the chance to slip out of the front door without making a single sound.
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jupiterredolent · 1 year
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*gasp* bruce– you gothic slut— close your fucking legs! – jupes friday, april 21 2023 at 9:46 pm
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allfandomstan · 11 months
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After Dark~(Batman x Vigilante Reader), Chapter 4.
Genre: Action, Mystery, Suspense, Noir, Crime.
Setting: Gotham City Hall from ‘The Batman’ 2022..
Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Swearing, Dark themes, descriptions of blood, Cynicism, Psychopathic themes.
Word Count: 1.9K
Hey its me back with another chapter to the series! Finally after an 8 months hiatus or so, I conjured up the will to publish this chapter I’ve been working on. It’s not much but just something to smoothly carry the series forward🫣..
And my apologies if I screw up the movie timeline in upcoming chapters!😫 it’s been a while since I revisited the movie as a whole so you might see some errors here and there🙃.
Hope you enjoy!
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***
Here you were, back at in your apartment.. again. Millions of thoughts ran through your mind like a flowing river that won’t stop at any point unless an intentional obstruction to the constant flow of water was put in place. Like a dam of sorts. All you could think of was about the event that unfurled earlier. From your argument with Sam to meeting Bruce Wayne, for the first in your life. Although you weren’t much sure about it..
The way his gaze met yours resembled some kind of shocking recognition and truth. Those deep ocean eyes looked familiar as ever, but you couldn’t quite pin point where you saw them. Yet..
His expression changed from monotone to slightly ‘intrigued’ when he laid his eyes on you. You noticed him scanning your face for something, like trying to read you like an open book. But why?
‘Had he seen you somewhere before?’
It sure looked like he did.
‘But where?’
****
The final touch you needed was your dark crimson coloured lipstick and then you were ready to go. To the Mayor’s funeral to be exact..
Today was the day Mayor Don Mitchell Jr. would be laid to rest six feet under, and you won’t say he will be resting in peace. You don’t think he’ll be resting at all because of the way he was taken from this world.. Brutally hammered to the head by a madman.
In a way you felt bad for the deceased Mayor even though you knew he was a corrupt-to-the-core asshole, but at least he should’ve been given a not-so fucked up death.
He died absolutely humiliated. With the words ‘No more Lies’ written on his taped up head with his very own blood. Not only did the Riddler kill him in the most devastatingly gut-wrenching way, but also tried to expose his deep seated secrets… The ones he feared would soon come to get him. And get him it did..
Bats hadn’t contacted you at all for two days straight. Not that you minded, really. You figured he was just busy getting his knuckles bloody from beating up the average Gotham thug he crosses more than once in the night. The city was crawling with them, especially during the late hour. But not just that, He’s most probably working on the case involving riddler, of course. The average Gotham thug was nothing compared to the chaos Riddler would bring if he’s not taken care of.
You wondered if The Bat had a life beyond crime fighting. Well of course he did. He’s human too, after all..
‘Why the fuck do I even care?’
You snapped out of your daze and tried to focus on the task at hand.. The Mayor’s funeral. Sure enough, you had to be there. Incase something happens.. And you had a tad bit of a gut feeling, that it would. You supposed he might be there too. Watching in the shadows, hidden from view. Of course he wouldn’t miss such a vital event if it means catching Riddler. This could be his right time to strike and evoke chaos among citizens in that town hall. You’d just had to wait and see if you were right. But you hoped the fuck not.
You finally put your trench coat over your self and grabbed your bag which contained your keys, burner phone and of course, your blade. You just had with you whenever you went out. Just in case..
****
The streets surrounding the Gotham Town Hall were packed with eager citizens who wanted to catch a glimpse of their coffin-ridden Mayor one last time. The Press and media were there too, to report and keep updated the curious minds of people who couldn’t make it to the funeral. The crowd was large pushy and suffocating.
You tried to get to the front, pushing past the crowd of people. When you finally got to the front you let out a deep breath. You had to say you were surprised as to why you you weren't smothered to death but you were grateful to make it out of the restless crowd alive.
At your current position you had a clear view of the road and the front of the Town Hall. There you saw police officers, prestigious politicians and a bunch of celebrities standing around, waiting for the venue to open. But your eyes landed on one particular person..
Carmine Falcone.
At the sight of that man, your fists subconsciously clenched inside of your coat pockets.
'What was he doing here?'
Then it made sense. Since the late Mayor himself wasn't the sinless of people, of course it was expected of him to have ties with someone as notorious as Falcone.
As you were focusing in on the Mob Boss, you became distracted by the sudden yelling of the people around you.
"Oh my Lord! It's Bruce Wayne!!"
Your gaze immediately took itself off Falcone and focused on the new subject at hand.
And there he was, The Gotham Prince.
Clad in a dapper black, wool coat and sporting the typical rich-guy look, appeared Wayne from his black Corvette.
Hmm, expensive you had to say. But of course.
You refrained from subconsciously rolling your eyes at the display. Bastard, making poor people eat shit.
You watched as he gave his car keys to an officer so he could park it elsewhere, and then walking off to climb the steps leading to the entrance of the Town Hall. You noticed his slight heaviness in step and the light hunch of his shoulders. And shit the guy looked like he hasn't slept in ages..
He involuntarily talked to the people around him which included Cops, celebrities and the Mayor candidate herself, Bella Real.
You watched as his head slowly turned to acknowledge the ungodly Man standing behind him with a crooked smile etched onto his face. Bruce then too, reluctantly met his gaze and engaged in a not so jolly conversation. Falcone placed a hand on Wayne's shoulder and patted it a few times before returning to talk to his henchman, Penguin.
'The guest list is just fucking incredible', you thought.
First you had the displeasure of finding Carmine Falcone and now, Penguin.
You watched as Penguin laughed, flashing his crooked brown stained teeth at Falcone. You bet whatever the asshole said must have been very funny indeed.
You looked away, disgusted. Men like Penguin had no right to laugh when so many lives had been ruined because of their deeds. Men like Penguin had no right to even breathe.
You would take care of that, soon enough..
****
About 45 minutes had passed and you found yourself pushing past crowds again trying to get into the Town Hall. You somehow managed to get in, all in one piece and stood by the side of the Hall along with the many citizens who already got in before you. After a while, the officers cut off any more citizens trying to come in as it was getting suffocating with the amount of people already inside the buliding. After entrance doors were closed, a metal barrier was put in place to separate second citizens, standing at both sides of the building from the first class. And among the second class citizens were you, of course. And among the first class were Falcone, Penguin, Bella Real and Bruce Wayne.
You sighed at the unlawful segregation, but you came to accept it eventually.
After about fifteen minutes the loud chatter quite down as the speech began. Several people, mainly Mitchell's Family and some politicians came up to deliver their honary speeches to commemorate the life and apreciate the accomplishments and 'good work' of the late Mayor. You scoffed at this. ‘How naïve where these people?’ Believing blindly to whatever Mitchell did was correct and truely for the betterment of Gotham. You doubted the man gave a single shit about this City or it’s citizens. The continuous speeches went on and on and you found yourself zoning out, voices becoming muddled and vision unfocused. Your mind started racing with thoughts consisting of ‘other things’. You couldn’t help but reimagine your first interaction with Vengeance. The way he pushed you against the wall, your chest flush to his abdomen. The way he held his intense gaze on you for longer than you’d wanted.. The way the rough fabric of his glove came to rest on the tender flesh of your neck, bruising it lightly..
All of this reminiscing totally had you off guard. You noticed that things were different now. In that very moment, it felt different.. You suddenly noticed that everything was abruptly called to a halt. Time had entirely stopped for a moment or so. Silence.. Chaos hidden in the element, waiting to strike like a serpent. There was complete silence until..
“Everyone, get the fuck out!”
You heard a man shout, possibly an officer on patrol. Then it all began. You heard multiple screams from behind you and then it all turned to chaos. People started running one by one trying to get away from something coming through the front. You wondered what it was and pushed towards the frantic crowd and towards where you supposed the danger was coming from. And then you saw it. Suddenly a GCPD SUV crashed through the glass doors of the building and skidded towards the Mayor’s casket. It all happened so quick you thought it was all in your head. Only that it wasn’t, unfortunately. You took a quick look around and there you saw Bruce on the floor with the Mayor’s Son in his arms. The boy must’ve been in the car’s way, you thought. And Bruce must’ve ran to get him out of the way before he got hit. Your focus was glued on Bruce and the way he gently helped the boy get back on his feet and tenderly guided him back to his Mother, horror etched onto her worn out features. Before you knew it a hand wrapped around your forearm rather harshly. You whipped your head around to stare at your intruder in the eyes but was met with the ones of a worried-sick to the bone Cop’s. “Mam’ you need to get out of here”, he calmly said trying to keep his cool in spite of all the chaos. You just stared at the officer for a moment or so without emitting any words in his direction. You found your eyes wandering back to Bruce once more. He was also being held by the forearm and being escorted out by some officers trying to get him to leave before the situation gets worse. You noticed his frantic eyes searching the place for something, or more like someone.. And then those Ocean blue eyes you found so mesmerising just a day ago found your own. You almost wanted to look away out of embarrassment because he caught you staring. But you didn’t. You kept your eyes glued onto his and his to yours. You two held a moment of eye-contact before your attention snapped towards the cop shaking your forearm. “Mam’ we don’t have much time. You have to evacuate.. Now!”
You nodded your head hastily and followed him to the evacuation exit. You looked back one last time, trying to catch a glimpse of Bruce, but he was long gone..
***
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iridescentprose · 2 years
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Gotham Nights—Battinson x catwoman reader
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summary; the aftermath of an interrogation gone a bit too far.
warnings; mentions of bloody knuckles, an unconscious body; a hint of floof
song; monsters (acoustic reverb version)—ruelle
author's note; happy fall.
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The low, yet incessant humming of the generator in the background did little to ease the groans coming from the barely conscious body in the corner of the room. Stubbornly, you massaged the bloody nubs that coated your knuckles.
A pair of black boots approached you, offering a piece of torn, bloody fabric. Your eyes went to the body in the corner. The shoulder of his buttoned down shirt had been missing. You looked back at the cloth in your partner's hands.
It was better than nothing.
Reluctantly, you took it and applied pressure to the wounds on your hands before wrapping it intricately around your fingers. By no means you couldn't get it to stay wrapped around your fingers - the wounds too big to keep it secure.
A hand settled on top of yours just before you could give up. Your partner crouched before you, gently taking the torn fabric. Without any warning, he wordlessly took your injured hand and began to wrap it firmly. Weaving the fabric between and around your fingers, you winced in pain. Fresh wounds were always tender to the touch.
"So, what are you going to do with him?" You dared to ask as he worked on fastening the knot.
"I'm taking him to the police," he replied almost instantly, cinching the knot firmly. He did another knot for good measure. You gritted your teeth as pain prickled throughout your hand.
"The police?"
"I trust them. Some of them."
You begged to differ. The body in the corner was a petty thief layered in sheep's clothing - a closet drophead who had connections in the underground that stretched beneath the city like roots that infiltrated the government, the police department, and even the poor. Those same roots put a chokehold on those closest to you—pulling them down further and further to the ground until they were no longer there. Until their minds were far off - hung up on addiction, murder, and greed.
"I don't," You said, running your fingers over the makeshift bandage as he finished wrapping your hand. You balled it into a fist, making the tight cinch loose. "Everyone's corrupt—"
He grabbed your hand, not forcefully but enough to ease your anger.
"Not everyone," he said, fastening the "bandage" once more before looking at you.
You scoffed lightly and shook your head in amusement, a brief smile breaking through. "I know you're not corrupt."
"How do you know that?"
"Because actions speak louder than words." You looked down at your bandaged hand sitting in his gloved one. Despite the conversation being laced with frustration and debate, he had been nothing but gentle. His thumb lightly settled across your knuckles, his fingers curling around your palm gently. There was a mutual understanding between the two of you. Your curious suspicions about his trust in the some of the police department had already been answered.
Actions speak louder than words.
You both did little to break eye contact before a soft 'thud' in the corner brought you both back to reality. The body's boot kicked the generator one final time before it went still.
"He's dead," You said. A part of you hoped your observation was wrong as Vengeance stood to check his pulse. You knew very well you had caused too much damage before the real questions had yet to be asked.
"Unconscious," he reported a few moments after, causing you to sigh in relief. Vengeance removed his fingers from the Body's neck before he crouched down to sit him up.
You watched quietly as you nursed your hand, your fingers lightly massaging over the wounds. Your festering anger simmered down and was slowly being replaced with curiosity as Vengeance tied to the ropes around the Body's chest tighter so he couldn't escape when the police arrived.
You weren't sure if you had made the situation worse by knocking him unconscious, but the monstrous deed of revenge had been done...and for the sake of the person you trusted, you didn't feel guilty about it.
After all, you were just as much of a monster as he was in the eyes of Gotham.
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meeowdrey · 6 months
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HE IS SO NERVOUS,,,, HE IS SHAKING.
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batmanlovesnirvana · 5 months
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Nah, because everyone says that Damian speaks Arabic. LIKE, OF COURSE, BUT WHICH DIALECT THOUGH? Lebanese? Palestinian? Yemeni? Saudi? Or perhaps the league has its own accent and dialect? Does he understand the different North African dialects???
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stargirlfics · 2 years
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IRON
got a request awhile back for Battinson + pussy eating and l couldn’t resist!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, size/strength kink, slight exhibitionism, reader is a bit of a brat! smut: oral (reader receiving), manual restraints, praise kink, body worship, mask kink
Word Count: 2.5k
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One could hardly say it was your fault. 
Bruce had left you here, in the Tower, all by your lonesome. You couldn’t be to blame, it was simple as that.
Though you didn’t protest his departure (you knew how important his work for the city was, how he’d answer that beacon shining high in Gotham’s stormy skies whenever it appeared) you also couldn’t help but sulk and pout about missing him. 
He could be out there all night and as selfish and indulgent as it was, you had plans, ones that involved as minimal amount of clothing as possible and his lips on yours, these desires being something you had started to tell him when it became clear he was needed in the city tonight instead. 
You could only hope the slight pinching grip of his hands on your waist as he left you with a tender kiss to your cheek meant he wouldn’t forget about your needs. 
It was raining now, just a little under a steady downpour and time seemed to move entirely too slow, barely an hour having passed with your next glance at the large grandfather clock in the foyer.  
Huffing a sigh, you wandered over to the bookshelves lining the alcoves in Wayne Tower’s main room, browsing amongst a few of your favorite novels that had found a new home here before you were pulling one off the shelf and snagging an old throw blanket, heading downstairs to Bruce’s hidden workspace to curl up in your usual spot and wait for his return. 
Funny, how casual this felt, like it was any other weekend night but most people in Gotham weren’t waiting up for the vigilante they called a lover to come home were they? And yet it was exactly where you wanted to be. 
For better or worse you were tied to Bruce and therefore tied to The Batman, swiftly coming to fall for both, to want both and all of who Bruce is, even when he made you worry. 
He promised both you and Alfred that he’d be careful and did every time he went out but he knew you would worry anyways, neither of you asking the other to change, loving each other too much to ask of it. 
Somehow you fashioned another fitting piece to the ever shifting puzzle that was Bruce Wayne and you weren’t going to trade it for the world.
The descent below ground brought a change in temperature, cool chilly air sweeping across your skin once you stepped onto the expanse of the abandoned terminus.
But the familiarity of it and the blanket draped over your shoulders was doing a fine job at keeping you warm, and the sleeping bats hanging above you were a fond presence with how much time you spent down here now. 
You were right at home.
Curled up on the sofa tucked into one of the spare corners in the workspace you chewed at the nail of your thumb, finding that the novel you’d chosen wasn’t helping your antsy, increasingly needy mood. 
The novel bordered on erotic and it made you squirm, heat creeping up from your chest to settle in your cheeks, your thighs pressing together without thought.
Mind wandering, dreaming of a steamy kiss, of being scooped up by him and made to feel good, the ache in your core finally being sated. 
You kept reading into the midnight hour, eventually unable to stop thinking of the details, his towering form, large, strong, and sure hands that gripped and held you so sweetly, so tightly, and how good it felt to be taken apart by him too. 
Bruce was unassuming like that, shy and reserved, awkward even, until he wasn’t, making it a point to discover all the ways he could fluster you, make you whine, and beg for him again and again. 
He was good at it too, had gotten especially skilled with that smart and stubborn mouth of his, and tonight, that’s what you wanted most. 
Wanted to grind yourself against his lips, his tongue, your clit bumping against his nose until your brain went quiet and all you could feel was the pulsing of the pleasure he loved giving you.  
Distracted by your fantasies you almost missed the soft whirring of the terminus gate opening, the book dropping closed in your lap when you realized he was back. 
It was late in the night now, it had been hours but you never felt more energized, letting the blanket pool around your middle as you watched the sleek black muscle car roll in, streaked with rain, the rumble from its engine reverberating against your chest in thrilling comfort. 
You stood up then, stretching out your limbs, a sly smirk threatening to stay on your lips as you watched Bruce step out of the car, his inky black cape draped around him, cowl shiny with moisture, and oh those eyes, shrouded in painted on shadows, his gaze finding yours immediately. 
“Thought you might be in bed by now,” his voice gruff but gentle as he spoke to you, a tone reserved especially for you.
“I considered it but thought waiting up for you here would be a lot better,” an innocent sigh left your lips while you busied yourself with folding the blanket, turning your back towards him, putting a nice little tilt and bend to your hips when you leaned over. 
The heavy footfall of his boots coming closer sent another thrill running up your spine, “Indeed it is, missed me that much, hm?”
Bruce was indulging your antics, always one to entertain your moods, your fantasies, wired on the adrenaline of his late night work in the streets, it made for such a potent mixture and you were delighted. 
“Mhm, cause someone’s skills were needed elsewhere, I had to make due all by myself,” you feigned a pout, trying to hide your smile when you spotted the briefest widening of his eyes at your words. 
He took another step towards you but you skirted away, dodging his hulking figure, the plated armor of his Bat suit still a little intimidating to you, your core clenching around nothing at the thought of being handled by those hands clad in Batman’s gloves, to feel his strength, the brute force in his biceps and forearms, pinning you down to do what he pleased with you. 
It’s all you could think about. 
Maybe it was the heightened level of your desire that made you feel a little bolder tonight, more eager to tease, to get under his ever-so-stoic skin, because you were making your way over to the car now, your hand trailing over its frame, walking, swaying almost till you were standing at the hood of the car, facing Bruce again who’s eyes were fixated on you. 
No words needed to be said as you smiled sweetly, your hands falling to your sides, tracing the edges of the satin slip dress hugging your body, fingers slipping under the hem, dragging it up your thighs a little. 
Chest tightening at his steady, measured steps toward you, one of your hands coming down to swipe over your inner thighs, touching yourself before he could reach you all the way, a giggle slipping out when you heard him grumble in frustration. 
It wasn’t often that you leaned into your brattier tendencies, but tonight, you were in that kind of mood, something sparking low in your tummy seeing him in the cowl, the suit making him appear bigger, taller, and underneath that you knew he had the strength to carry all that gear, to move and fight in it and it made you feel so much smaller in comparison, finding a thrill in pushing buttons. 
“Move your hand, baby.” his command came gently, a warning in itself of sorts, telling you he was going easy on you, giving you a chance to behave. 
Any other night you would have yielded, knowing just how good he could give it to you when you listened to him, but tonight you wanted the less inhibited side of him so instead, you kept your hand between your thighs, fingers finding slick skin with ease. 
“You have to wait your turn, sir,” you flicked your eyes up towards his playfully, heart jumping into your throat at his expression, the tick of his jaw. 
Bruce was pressed against you now, hands moving up to cage you against his chest, your breaths heavier, already losing the battle. 
It was so easy for him to break your tough girl act, knowing full well you were just as desperate as he was, knowing your weak spots and using them to his advantage.
Like now, for instance, using your distracted state to catch you off guard, his hands finding your waist and lifting, placing you up onto the warm, wet hood of his car, a delighted squeak filling the air as he lay you back. 
You were dough in his hands, shaped by the roll and press of his fingers, the weight of them making you whine as he pushed your legs apart, all but growling at your lack of underwear. 
The sight of him settling between your thighs, his body over yours filling your entire field of vision unlocked something for you, your heart beating wildly at the feeling of the suit again your skin, cool droplets of water landing on from the ears of his cowl as he lowered his head to your ribs. 
His lips were warm as they kissed down your torso, his hands keeping your thighs spread out for him, open so his mouth had a clear path to travel down, your breath hitching the lower his mouth went. 
A needy whine slipped out when he stalled, just hovering over where you wanted him most, his huff of laughter making you squirm from sensitivity. 
“Look who can’t wait their turn now…you’re lucky I’m in a generous mood.” Bruce chuckled lowly, catching you by surprise and making you ache for more. 
“Please-oh!” you weren’t too proud to beg, his mouth finally touching down on puffy folds.
The move turned your plea into a moan, hands jerking, slipping on the rain droplets now soaking your dress, grasping anything for purchase as your hips rocked with his movements. 
Curses and half stifled moans filled the air as he buried his face into your heat, his tongue lapping and swirling around your clit, moving further down to taste you properly. 
Your muscles ache from the strain of flexing against him, your body chasing the sensations he was giving you, the building pressure in your abdomen, the way he groans against your pussy, drinking you down, it all made your brain hazy in the best way. 
“Taste so fucking good…fuck.” the words left his lips with ease, finding them easier to come by when he was under the suit, when he was most himself. 
Trembling hands of yours creep down to grasp at his own hands still keeping your thighs held apart wide, and then move down, timidly tugging his head closer, crying out at the change in pressure, all your nerves tingling. 
Something about only being able to catch glimpses of his eyes, the sharp edge of his jawline as he ate you out, and the rest covered by the mask made you open up for him further, your desires reaching no end. 
Your hands pushed at his arms until he caught your wrists, holding them back with one hand, pinning them to your tummy, leaving you panting, unable to help but grind yourself against the patterned flick and swirl of his tongue. 
The added thrill of being so exposed, though this was a private space, how open it seemed, made you feel on display, another wave of heat flooding your body. 
Goosebumps travel down your arms as the cool brush of his free hand caresses your frame, grabbing dewy flesh, feeling your breasts, your waist underneath his grip, loving how you molded to his touch, how perfect you were in his arms. 
He could spend all night like this, making you feel good, pulling those high pitched whines and gasps from your throat, making your thighs tremble like they were doing now. It’s all he could think of, all he could do. 
“Please, please, keep going, yes!” more whimpers fall prettily, your body turning soft and pliant under the sweet pressure of his lips, the way his tongue sweetly nudges inside you, licking your essence, building you up higher and higher. 
Every now and then he’ll slow it down, teasing you just a little for his own self indulgent reasons before heeding your heady whimpers for more, building you back up again, enjoying the way you seemed to drip from his tongue, how he could make such a mess of you. 
He knows you’re close, can tell by the way you flutter around his tongue, can feel the frenzied aching in your limbs as it begins to happen. 
“Come on, let go. Now. Let me feel you,” the assertion in his tone left no room to argue, the gruff, grit out encouragement giving you the final push you needed.
Your orgasm reaches you quickly as his tongue returns to your clit, dragging out the sensations, making you shake even more, almost exhausted by the force of it. 
What a sight this must be, being spread out so sinfully and all for him, something Bruce intended to savor, the fact that you were all his, that rough exterior shedding a little more easily now that he knew he’d given you what you needed. 
His lips were still leaving kisses on your throbbing clit and sensitive inner thighs, staying close, bright eyes peering into yours, wanting the close contact to go on a little longer. 
That was just fine by you, he could have whatever he wanted with the way he just made you feel, and still, amusement twinkling for just a moment in his eyes at seeing you struggle to catch your breath. 
Pushed up onto your elbows now you peer down, cheeks burning again at seeing just how messy you’d become, rain and your arousal damp on your inner thighs, shining around Bruce’s lips and chin.
“God…that was so good, thank you, baby,” your praise and gratitude were soft spoken, holding all the usual affection you had for him, none of your earlier antics remaining. 
You watched him smirk at your content sighs, pulling the cowl off with ease, a practiced move that was second nature now. 
It wasn’t fair that he could look so handsome, rain soaked and hair disheveled, black paint still smudged around his eyes too but it was a look that fit him well and had much too strong an effect on you, feeling the muscles of your thighs jump once more. 
“Anytime. I’m always ready to straighten out that attitude for you, beautiful. Just say the word.” 
Maybe it was the unmistakable glint in his eye or the way he spoke to you then that had you laying back against the car again, trying to hold back whimpers and giggles when he followed close after you, wanting, no needing another taste, needing to see you fall apart again. 
“Think you can be a good girl and keep those legs open for me?” 
“Mhm, just don’t want you to stop, please.” 
“Never…have to make up for all those hours I was gone, right.” 
You shared his sly little smile and lay back for him once more, the searing kisses unleashed upon your still tingling skin dragging you back under, right where you wanted to be, under the skillful fangs of The Bat himself.
————
A/N: Well it had to be done! Cause I can’t be told otherwise, Rob’s Batman eats it like a starved man and I will stand by that! Period! Lol thank you for reading this fun little fic, lemme know what you think! Any and all thirsty comments welcome! 🖤
some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @littlekidsteve @eupheme @saradika @allaboardthereadingrailroad @yelenas-lova @tarrenterror25 @moreofem @squidlywiddly87
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brightjimini · 1 year
Text
Caught making out
Bruce Wayne x reader
Blurb
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A/N: omg yes you are seeing this right. I WROTE AGAIN. Literally almost a year ago but. I slowly want to write again. After seeing Blue beetle and my battinson obsession coming back. I felt inspired. Hope my writing has gotten better. Enjoy.
-
The uncomfortable feeling of the side of the table against your thighs was easily ignored. Warm big hands ran over your back. Lips pressed against yours. His light stubble scratching your face slightly. 
“Bruce” You tried to mumble against his lips. Tried. 
Because the moment you went down to his cave after you had woken up to a cold bed, you had gone downstairs to see what he was doing. Clearly, he was trying to make that up in some type of way. Seeing him shirtless, tinkering with some new gadget for his suit, warmed your heart when you came down to the basement. And before you knew it he had you on the table kissing you like it was his last day on earth. You had wanted to warn him. You knew Alfred was always up when Bruce was awake. But the fear of getting caught by Alfred disappeared from your mind the moment one of his hands went under your shirt. 
Shivering, you pulled lightly at his soft hair that was between your fingers. He groaned and pressed his body even closer against yours. The kisses became more passionate. You could hear something, but it did not register fully. 
A loud cough broke the spell between you and Bruce. You both pulled away with a gasp. Eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. Cheeks heating up. His hand disappeared from underneath your shirt. Bruce's broad shoulders blocked Alfred's figure, but you did not need to see him to hear the humor in his voice, but also reminding you of a father that caught his son. 
“Breakfast is ready, Master Bruce.” You did not know how you were going to face him again.
-
More to come
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elletheactualmenace · 5 months
Text
Showers and Soft Touches
Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader
Summary: Someone joins you in the shower, and just some cute Bruce moments.
Warnings: Non-sexual nudity, suggestive, slightly ooc Bruce, shower sharing,
Word Count: 1.2k
a/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for forever so here I am finally posting it. I based some of the hair part on my own hair, so I’m so so sorry if it’s not the same as your routine!! Hope you enjoy this cute domestic fanfic.
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You turn the faucet almost as far to the left as possible. The shower head sprouts out a patch of cold water before the temperature evens out and the water begins to heat. As steam begins to fill your master bathroom you reach out your hand to inspect the water. It's perfect. Just how you like it.
You step into the shower slowly making sure not to slip, before running your body under the water. Immediately your body loses its tension, and your muscles practically moan under the pressure of the hot water.
You reach for your shampoo slowly, wanting the relaxation to last as long as possible. You pour the liquid onto your hand and watch it slowly seep back into the bottle when you pull your hand up ever so slightly. You click the lid closed and place it back in its home. You begin to lather your hair, taking care to scrub until there is an abundance of suds coated through your hair.
Before you can wash out your now clean hair you feel a pair of arms wrap under your uplifted arms and around your torso. You jump at the sudden cold temperature of the hands against your warm skin. A head finds a resting spot on your shoulder, and you turn to see Bruce. His eyes closed and a content sound came from his throat.
You lower your arms so you can hug him back, or your version, rest your arms along his. Bruce doesn’t seem to mind your soapy hands. He just opens his eyes to meet yours. You lean in and kiss his cheek. The coldness of his skin is a stark contrast to yours. Your lips tingle at the feeling, and they linger longer than they should. 
Bruce takes a step back letting the water hit his back. He seems to instantly relax, but to a stranger it would have gone unnoticed. 
“Here, let me.” Bruce hums out softly, his low gravelly voice reverberating into your back. He unwraps his arms form around you and takes your hair in his hands. He gently leans your head back to rinse out the suds of soap from your hair. He’s careful to make sure he shields your eyes from the soap.
When the shampoo is all out Bruce takes hold of your bottle of conditioner, the expensive one he got for you. He lathers his hands with the creamy substance and gently runs his fingers through the knots in your hair. You breathe a sigh of content at his soft ministrations. And he smiles softly.
“Feel good?” He asks slowly, the corner of his lips lifted in a smirk.
“Yeah, especially when I’m not doing it.” You breathe out smiling. And he leans in kissing your cheek before continuing.
After your hair is lathered with conditioner, you reach to take hold of the bar of soap resting near Bruce’s and your razors. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bruce pouring shampoo on his hair before scrubbing it into his scalp.
You wash your body thoroughly, taking time to make sure you leave no skin untouched by the soap. Bruce rinses out his hair before quickly finishing up his routine. You follow suit, washing out your hair, then continuing with your hair routine.
By the time you wrap a towel around your body Bruce is already standing by the mirror and sink, ruffling out the water from his hair with a smaller towel. His towel hangs low on his hips, showing off his prominent v line. Your eyes slowly travel up his toned torso, to his pecks, his shoulder, and finally to his eyes, which are embarrassingly already on you.
Your face heats up as you look down, you adjust your towel awkwardly. Bruce just smiles gently walking over to you. You look up as he approaches you, his eyes catching yours.
“Sorry.” You whisper uncomfortably.
“Its okay,” he says with a tender look in his eyes. You turn your attention towards the floor embarrassment seeping from you. When he doesn’t move after a minute, still holding his gaze on you and your face you look up into his eyes again.
“What?” You asked with a small smile, eyebrows scrunching. “Do I still have soap on me?” You ask, inspecting your shoulders and bare legs. Bruce hesitantly places his hand on your cheek making you look up at him again.
“Just think…you're adorable.” He whispers lovingly but shyly to you. You push him away playfully, trying to hide the fact that his words sent butterflies to your stomach and a giddy feeling to your heart.
You walk towards the door motioning for him to follow, and he does.
As you step out of the large doors to your bathroom you are greeted with fresh clothes on your king size bed. You hear Bruce’s feet pad over to the corner of the room closest to the large windows. There is shuffling before the crackling of a needle tip hitting a vinyl is heard throughout the room. La vie en rose performed by Édith Piaf fills your ears. 
You turn to see Bruce starting your vinyl player, he looks at you with soft eyes. He leans against the wall near the window and you turn again to the bed. You let your towel fall to the floor as you reach for your underwear.
You can hear Bruce's quiet footsteps once again, walking towards you as your underwear just about reaches your thighs. You feel his large warm hands touch yours from behind you. Both of your hands are now situated on your underwear. He pulls them the rest of the way up for you. His hands then move up to caress the curve of your waist with a soft feathery touch.
You turn, bare chest meeting bare chest. You look up into his deep steel blue eyes finding nothing but warmth hidden under the surface. He wraps his arms around your middle pulling you closer to his broad chest. Following suit you reach up on your toes to wrap your arms around his bare neck. His damp hair prickles your wrists, hair slightly dripping down. But it doesn’t bother you.
You rest your cheek on his collarbone, letting his breathing and beating heart lull your eyes shut. As he shifts you in his arms your nipples perk at the moment. He hums softly into your hair and it vibrates through both of you. 
“Could stay like this forever,” you softly say into his skin. His grip on you tightens as your soft lips meet his scared chest. You still keep your body close to him as you leave a soft trail of kisses up his neck and finally to his pink lips.
He holds you there, his lips tenderly moving with yours. The tingle of his lips on yours sends whimpers up your throat. You part your lips to let his warm mouth explore yours. Your fingertips brush through his hair tugging slightly when you feel his tongue brush along yours. Bruce’s lips are so warm you never want to pull away. His arms caress your sides and back gently moving along your drying skin with love.
When you too finally do part your hands travel down to his chest so you can get a good look at his face.
“I love you darling.” You say quietly, and he sighs with a smile.
”Love you too.” He whispers softly, letting his body sway with yours to the music radiating from the corner.
This. This is what you loved most in the world.
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ladysmutwriter · 2 months
Text
RolePlay
Edward Nashton x Reader
⚠️: Smut, grinding, cumming w clothes on, reader doesn't know Edward is the Riddler, p0rn w no plot, mask kink.
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Your lips were on Edward's his sweaty hands shakily pressing down on your waist.
You broke the kiss, your chest feeling heavy as you regained your breath. Looking around, you see a familiar looking green mask;
"never knew you were a Riddler fanboy"
you said as you went pick up the mask, Edward going stiff as he saw you look at the mask.
It was as if his vocal chords cut, thankfully you didn't think much of it.
It happened so quick, from fear to being caught, to extreme arousal as he saw you put it on, only your eyes visible, your eyelashes peeking out as you crawled on top of him, your hand going to press down on his neck, softly choking him.
Imitating the Riddler's voice, you spoke to him.
"Please do not lie, what is the price for your blind eye?"
You said as you grinded on him, applying more pressure on his neck, Edward's face going red at the lack of oxygen, but his eyes going up as he felt your hips moving on top of his, his erection oh so deliciously grinding against your clothed groin.
You were about to keep talking, until Edward's face went tomato red, his eyes rolling back so far they almost went white, his mouth opening as he let out a high pitched moan.You felt a wet spot under you, seeing his pants getting wet as he came.
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
Note
hello! i saw you write for batman n wanted to request. i dont care what version of batman it is-but my idea is being bruce waynes boyfriend (ftm reader), n' hes just so stressed out from being batman and having to keep villains at bay. so reader is basically used as bruce's stress relief! for kinks maybe: size kink, praise or degradation im not picky, rough sex, overstimulating reader, and whatever else fits! thank you-!
TW: Batman ( 2022 ), v!sex, overstimulation, rough sex, face fuck, dom!bruce, mask kink, fingering, degradation, afab anatomy, praise, ftm reader, vulnerable!kink, size!kink, porn plot, hard smut.
A/N: My first Batman request omg, Thank you for asking, I've been wanting to write about this man for a long time, I put my favorite Batman ૮ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ᳝ ° ♡ ˙
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It had been a month since your boyfriend had taken a break from his duty to fight crime in Gotham ── He was too tired, and the stress was noticeable in the way his jaw flexed harshly with each new call from a villain unleashed on the streets. You insisted many times that the batman just rest a little, but he always replied tensely: "it was his obligation."
But it was slowly killing him... And you needed to act soon before he had a nervous breakdown.
So when you saw your boyfriend walk through the door of Wayne Manor still dressed in his black night watchman's attire you greeted him completely naked making Bruce practically choke on his own saliva in surprise ── before any protest came from his lips you told him he could using you as an escape valve, a relief for everything that was accumulating inside him, you saw his blue eyes shine with practically every sweet and worried word that came out of your throat; a mix of love and animal dominance radiated from the man.
"Are you sure? When we started... We won't be able to stop until I speak." Bruce spoke calmly, his gloved hands were already running down and up your body, squeezing your bare ass as he grunted softly as he felt his cock stretch painfully in his pants ── a clear sign of raw need, and when the "yes" coming from you was heard The millionaire wasted no time in pinning you against his larger body and giving you a violent kiss, your tongues fought for control, radiating a heat that you both missed.
He soon broke the kiss when he saw you rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh and leaving a wet trail on his battle suit.
"You want this... You like it, don't you?" He growls softly in his ear before applying enough pressure to your clit for you to scream in pleasure, he let go of that, forcing you to look at him while holding your face.
"Am I turning you on, little boy?" There was an undeniable hunger in Bruce's deep voice as he let go of your face and pulled you away from his thigh, he just lowered his pants enough for you to see his cock spring out already dripping precum from the pink tip.
"You're a shitty little whore, aren't you baby boy? How excited are you for this?" The batman growled softly, roughly pinning you to the nearest solid surface ── you were in a vulnerable position, your ass raised in the air as you felt his thick fingers grab a handful of your hair and his other hand came up against yours moisture opening your labia. He took off his leather glove while his bare fingers went down to your swollen and pulsating clit, watching you tremble and sputter with just his small touches.
"Calm down pretty boy, I've barely started and you're already falling apart? Such a dumb boy for a good dick, aren't you?" He mocked as he continued the rough administrations on your body ── he was treating you like a sex toy handling you like a rag doll easily and you loved every second of it, the taller man was animalistic as he made you submissive to him.
"What beautiful sounds you make, open your legs wider, little slut, come on."
He speaks sharply, grabbing your thighs, thrusting your hips even more towards him ── your breasts hurt against the cold wooden surface of the room but Wayne didn't care, not at that time, he just focused on making you sore enough.
He felt the stress go away every time you begged him to fuck you soon.
"Fuck- you look so hot like this..." Bruce stroked his own cock as he watched you drool and sob from being sore from all his stimulation. With a growl of need, he grabbed you tightly by the waist and pulled you up until your cunt lined up perfectly over his hard tip.
"You're going to take this like a big boy, aren't you?" You gasp as he slides inside you, ── His cock feels so good inside you like your body was custom made for him. He pushed into you, burying himself up to the hilt, causing you both to let out a collective moan.
You could look back and see your boyfriend's face covered by the mask──his lips open with each brutal thrust with the strength of his hips. The sound of wet flesh and lustful sounds filled the empty space of the mansion, you were a needy mess grinding against each other.
"Fuck yes- such a good boy taking my dick like a fucking champ. Holy fuck- Can you really handle me...You're so small and fragile, but you handle my dick so well- A dirty whore is what you are." He took every part of your pleasure and pain, setting an intense pace, he was fucking you like his life depended on it.
Every thrust was deliberate and possessive he was marking you as his with every movement. His hips moved forward with a dominant force, sinking deeper into your velvety heat ── but he wasn't going to cum inside you, not this time.
He came out of your hole in an erotic snap, slapping your ass hard. "On your knees boy, I'm going to cum on that pretty face of yours."
You obeyed quickly, ignoring your own needs to satisfy his desires ── your knees touched the cold floor as you looked up watching Bruce masturbate a few times and spill the hot, sticky liquid all over your face ── he let out a loud moan feeling the knees buckle as he saw you completely painted with his seed, an image he had forgotten what it was like to have, you on your knees facing him with your breasts bouncing with every breath your pussy throbbed from the denial of an orgasm and his thick cum ran down your pretty face.
It was like his personal paradise was finally at peace again; One of his hands went to your hair, giving small caresses to the top of your head.
"Good job baby boy. You really are a good boy to me."
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allfandomstan · 2 years
Text
After Dark~(Batman x Vigilante Reader), Chapter 1.
Read Chapter 2! found on my ‘posts’.
Genre: action, mystery, crime, Noir..
Setting: Gotham City from ‘The Batman’ 2022.
Warnings: swearing, mention of violence, dark themes, mutual ‘tension’😉.
Word Count: 2.6k
Author Notes: Hi, this is my first time writing a fanfic (hope its not too bad!) and this is certainly my first Dcu fanfic. Most characters are adapted from ‘The Batman’ and character credits goes to Matt Reeves, the director. I’m hoping to make this an ongoing series, depending on the feedback I receive and motivation I get to write😫. Anyways, the reader is a newbie vigilante in Gotham(you'll know more about her in later chapters) and she's doing her own little ivestigative work when she crosses paths with Batman...
pls, tell me what you guys think (constructive criticism is always welcome) and hope you enjoy!
P.S there ought to be a lot of ‘tension’ between reader and Vengeance.😏😏
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Fuck.
You witness the Mayor getting hammered by some fucked-in-the-head maniac, wearing a dull green trench coat and a leather- green face cover. He had a large, white question mark painted on the side of his coat.
‘What the hell could that mean?’
You blinked twice as you took in the sight  of the man taping the Mayor’s head in Duck-tape and writing something on it.
With his own blood.
“Sick Bastard”, you murmured to yourself as you focused the binoculars even more to read what he wrote on the Mayor’s taped up face. 
You couldn’t see it. 
You had to get a better view, but you couldn’t go down now. If anyone caught you, you’d be a prime suspect in the upcoming murder case. And that would only consist of them digging further into your background which you figured wouldn’t go down too well for you.
You had to wait it out. And wait for the sick Fucker to leave, or you could end up like the unfortunate Mayor.
****
An hour passed and you soon saw the outside of the Mayor’s house crowding up with Police Officers, detectives and the forensic crew. Shit, you even saw Jim Gordon. 
And seeing Gordon meant that ‘he’ could be nearby.
Hurriedly and by instinct,you looked up at the sky.
And there is was.
The notorious ‘Bat signal’ was lit.
It was the only thing that had been scaring the living shit out of the crime underworld of Gotham for the last two years. Well, it’s safe to say that Gotham itself is a crime underworld. Corruption, brutality and lies everywhere. Gotham wasn’t a compassionate city, nor was it a hopeful one..
Upon the realisation of the signal up in the sky, you immediately rose to your feet, taking your backpack and binoculars. You had to get out of the roof soon enough or Vengeance just might interfere. He’s always seen on high ground, right? On roofs and shit like that.
He stalks the city from above, and you were too vulnerable.. You had to get down, and now.
You raced to the door leading you to the stairs of the abandoned building which will take you down to the street.
You were breathless by the end of your journey down the damn stairs, and you had to convince yourself to get out of there fast. You crossed the street and went to the back of the Mayor’s house to catch a glimpse of what was going on, but you had to stay far away to keep a safe distance between you and the house. It felt like a fucking ridiculous plan but all you could find was a bush. 
Great.
Making use of what you had, you crouched down behind it. Nevertheless, the spot you were in allowed you a great vantage point to the window of the Mayor’s TV room; the place he was murdered.
So, you held up your binoculars and watched.
Closely.
Trying to find clues or vital information about who the fuck the crazy maniac who did this was.
You made sure to stay low, watching the officers and crew scrambling around, clicking pictures and searching the furniture for hand prints. Minutes passed by and nothing out of the blue happened. Until…
You could faintly hear shouting and sensed the tension rise. You saw people running around, shuffling and shouting to one another.
And then..
You saw him.
Everyone seems to have froze, as The Batman walked in. Slow and steady in his movements, but no less fucking intimidating. You froze as well, a chill running down your spine. 
This was going to be, interesting…
Hell yeah, fucking interesting..
You were extra cautious now that he was here. If he caught you, you were beyond fucked. Not that you were involved in the case in any shape or form right?..Or were you?
You just came here to spy on the Mayor,  nothing evil at all! 
And he ended up dead.
But Mr.Batman here wouldn’t understand that, now would he?
You crouched down even more from the position you were in and watched closely. You saw Jim Gordon trying to get Batman’s attention but his gaze was glued to the Mayor. Or to say, his corpse.
Suddenly the light lamp opposite you in the Mayor’s compound lit up, and it shone to the glass of your binoculars.
Shit.
The shine immediately reflected of the glass and onto the Mayor’s window…
The TV room window.
You didn’t notice it at first, but then you realised. And it was too late.
Vengeance took note of the shine and walked towards it, eyes desperately searching for the source. And then he took note of you, crouching down behind the bushes, with binoculars in hand.
You locked eyes with him..
Shit, shit, shit.
Immediate flight instinct.
You jumped out of your position and start running. Running away from the compound. A bit like a caught-in-the-act criminal, who knows he’s fucked it. A bit too much alike.
You run as fast as you could, not knowing where to go but still running as far away as you could from the Mayor’s house.
‘Could he be after you right now?’
You didn’t want to know.
Or you didn’t dare to look back and find out. You had no time anyway. You took a sharp left and ventured into a dark alleyway. You stopped running, trying to catch your breath but not getting enough oxygen.
Fuck, you ran like a bitch.
You haven’t ran as fast as that in your life..
You turned around to see if there was anyone behind you.
There was no one.
He probably thought you were a random curious reporter. 
‘He probably let it slide, right?’
You frantically look all around you, eyeing your surroundings to make sure you aren’t being stalked or followed.
You look around yourself, but you don’t look up.. At the roof.
Suddenly, as if it were a gust of wind, a black figure jumped down from the roof. Before you had time to run or even react, he took hold of your arm, swinging you around and smashing you into the brick wall. You winced in pain, as it all happened so quick like the speed of light.
The tall, dark figure closed the gap between the two of you and held you further against the wall, his tall form hovering over you.
His hand went up to the bandana scarf that was half covering your face.
Oh no.
Oh hell no.
Quickly with your free arm, you hit his intruding hand away. He growled in annoyance, and took hold of your free hand in his other one.
“The fuck do you want?”, you shouted in utter hostility.
“To see your face”, He replied in a low growl, still resisting your restless form trying to break free from his firm hold.
“Yeah, right! Like you’ll even come close-“
With a swift move of hand, he snatched the scarf right off your face..
For the first time in your life you felt naked. Truly exposed. For what you are and what you’ve done.
You were about to shout, when you felt his large hand cover your mouth shut.
Something was wrong.. You realised weren’t alone.
You suddenly heard the loud banter of very obviously ‘drunk’ men walking by the alleyway. There was a club nearby, which explains it.
Vengeance made sure you stayed quite until they were gone, and then he released his hand from your mouth.
But this time you didn’t say anything. You just stared. 
Into his eyes.
His gaze was intense, fixed on your face like he was trying to read you like an open book.
You wouldn’t let him get to you that easily, would you?
To his scrutiny you looked down.
But soon enough he placed his fingers under your chin harshly and tilted your head up forcing you to look at him.
“Look at me” he said sternly with a dark tone. You had no choice but to comply.
“Why were you there?”
“Why the hell does it matter to you?”
He pushed you further into the wall, reaching to a point where you found it difficult to breath.
“Tell me”.
You struggled against his form, wriggling under him and trying to find a way to break free.
You knew your own share of martial arts and things but he put you in quite the sticky situation here. Well, the man was pretty heavy.
Wheezing you say:
“I would tell you if you weren’t smouldering me to death!”.
You stopped fighting and let him think about the offer.
He backed away.
Now you felt like you were finally able to breath properly again.
“Now, tell me” he growled, maintaining an alert posture incase you tried to run.
“Alright, alright won’t you give a lady her space?”
He didn’t respond, instead just stared at you ominously, his steely gaze fixed on you. Damn it, you felt like prey being watched by its predator.
You knew he wanted answers and fast, so, you gave in. You decided to at least give him something to sooth his nerves, even though it wasn’t entirely the truth…
“Fine..I’m a GCN reporter and I was trying to get some scoop on the Mayor, since y’ know the election is near and he could be down to something that reporters like me just don’t wanna miss. But then…”
You trailed off, the memories of the murder flooding into your mind. He was listening, carefully.
Now you didn’t entirely give in.
You weren’t going to give him the entire details.
“Then what?”, he pushed.
You took a moment to inhale sharply. You then decided to give him a not-so-retarded answer that didn’t make your little lie so obvious.
“Then I got an important call from my friend, and I had to leave.. And when I came back to spy on Mitchell I saw that he was murdered and dead, sitting on the TV room chair with his face taped up.”
You prayed that it was a reasonable enough answer and that it would convince him to let you go. 
But no..
“Bullshit” he murmured. 
He took a step closer to you, a bit too close for comfort. He gazed down on you with utmost spite he could possibly muster.
“You saw who did it, didn’t you?”
You were offended. How dare he suspect you of lying?
“Listen Batboy, I don’t have a lot of time here and I don’t think you do too. So it’s  better if you just let me go my way and do my thing, and you do yours. I didn’t kill anybody and didn’t do no wrong. I was just trying to do my fucking job here, and I think you should do yours-“
“Tell me the truth!” He growls, and places a hand on your throat. And holds on a little too tightly for your liking.
“OR WHAT?” You challenge, looking straight into his burning eyes.
“You’re not a reporter, nor did you leave when Mitchell was getting murdered. You stayed right there and watched it happen…You know saw killed him”.
You were astonished.
‘How the fuck was he able to read through you?’
Like a fucking open book.
There was no use in trying anymore. In trying to lie anymore. It would only make him suspect you even more.
‘Maybe there’s no use in lying?’
‘Maybe both of you can call it a truce?’
‘Maybe you and Vengeance can get along and come up with some, compromises?’… ‘And maybe even some ideas?’
All of it for the exchange of information and maybe even a little ‘cooperation’..
“And what if I did?” You ask with cockiness lacing your tone.
His eyes grew bigger, possibly by realising the possibility that you truly did see what happened.
He took another step closer and now your chest was flush against his abdomen.
“What are you gonna do, baby?.. Arrest me?”
You flutter your eyelashes at him, tone laced with the same cockiness from before, but this time also teasing.
“Maybe..”
With his head bent towards you, ocean blue eyes searching for answers, he adds:
“Maybe I’ll let you go if..you cooperate”.
You look into his eyes and then your gaze wanders to his lips and to his sharp jawline. You scan his face, noticing the sharp-chiselled features.
Damn, the man certainly wasn’t ugly…
Snapping out of your little day dream, you think about his offer.
‘He’ll let you go if you cooperate?’
Well you didn’t really want him to let you go. Not that easily, anyway.
“Cooperate? Me and you?”, you ask trying your best to sound surprised.
But he saw through your facade and silence was all you received.
“That would be a little dangerous don’t ya think, Batman?”
“I don’t care”, he replied with a heavy tone.
“Well, you seem to like danger don’t you?”
You held up your hand to cup the side of his face when he suddenly caught you by the wrist to stop you.
There was silence…
Moments passed as he spoke up again.
“Who are you?” He asked, unable to hide the curiosity within.
You cocked your head to the side, arching an eyebrow with a mischievous smirk forming on your lips.
“Oh you’ll soon find out, sweetheart.”
Just as He was about to speak, the sound of police sirens and tires interrupted him.
“Looks like your friends are here. They’re probably looking for you”.
He turns his head to look onto the road.
You were about to yank your wrist out of his firm hold and run, but he tightens his grip even further.
“I’ll find you”, he says, blue eyes focusing in on yours.
“I bet you will”, you smile..
You quickly slip a small piece of paper into his utility belt.
You didn’t think he noticed, as he was so focused on your eyes.
“Maybe we can..cooperate?”
The sound of car doors closing and footsteps approaching snapped him out of his daze.
Using his lack of focus as the trump card, you quickly snatched your hand away and ran off further into the alleyway, turning a corner and disappearing out of sight.
‘Perfect’, you thought.
He didn’t chase after you.. After all he was going to find you.
Bruce was interrupted with the loud footsteps of Gordon and two other cops following behind him.
“Why the hell did you just run off like that, Man?”…
“Nothing. Just thought I saw somebody.”
“Oh and you sure did. Who were you talking to?”
Bruce lets out a long, heavy sigh.
“It was just a GCN reporter. She was just snooping around.”
“And you let her go!?”, Gordon asks frustrated.
“She’s of no use”, Bruce insists.
“Man, she could’ve been a witness!”, Gordon shouts, unable to hide his anger.
“She’s got nothing, believe me”.
The commissioner groans in annoyance and and brings his hand up to palm his face, shutting his eyes.
“I thought we agreed in deciding on things together”.
“We did”, Bruce responds almost instantly without hesitation. Gordon just stares at him in disbelief.
“So you let go of a possible witness without even confirming with me-“
He was cut off.
“I told you, she’s got nothing” Bruce interjects, passing the commissioner a glare.
He resigns, shooting his hands up in surrender.
“Okay, I believe you man but if I ever find out you’re lying to me, you and I are going to have to talk”.
And at this Bruce scoffs.
Gordon backs away with his officers onto the street, and passes Bruce one last look before saying:
“I’ll be in the car”..
When Bruce was finally left alone in the dark alleyway, he took out the note you had given him. After all, he did notice your little trick…
It was a small, white, crumbled piece of paper. It had some digits written on it.
Your number….
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cl3fairyyy · 7 months
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i have not stopped thinking about this image since it dropped. it haunts my thoughts 24/7. i have to pay tribute to it before bed every night. i have a shrine in every room of my house dedicated to it. i will never be the same again.
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xmalereader · 2 months
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— Endless Pt. 1 —
Bruce Wayne x Endless! Male Reader
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☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆
SUMMARY: The endless family is made up of 7 children, so why is their an 8th? Reader is the black sheep of the family with no purpose to fulfill the human realm. He spends his days locked away in the Dreaming where he stays under his brothers watch. It wasn’t until one of Dreams new nightmares escapes the realm and starts causing problems in the Waking, giving reader a chance to show that he can be helpful in his family by tracking down his brothers nightmare, not knowing what awaits him.
WARNINGS/CONTENT: Angst, slow burn, MDNI 18+, language, endless family, dream trying to be a good brother, mentions of abuse, black sheep, self esteem problems, mentions of death, family secrets, friends to lovers, post riddler chaos, mentions of new villains, foreshadowing, reader and Bruce balancing each other out, Gotham is shit, slight kissing, trauma mentioned, OC nightmare, non-canon works.
WC: 5k
TAGS: @circusdexxter @lordzachariah0-0 @apolo1808 @i-cant-sleep615 @kayden1 @boylicious143 @h-ib @kik1010 @toxic90sboy @multifandomsimp69 @moththesadmage @stalker0
NOTES: Finally! After a very long break I’m finally getting back into writing again! I will mainly be focusing on my series that I’ve been planning for quiet awhile and really want to focus on this Endless series that I’ve had in mind for months. I’ll try my best to update as much as possible since each chapter will be between 5k-8k words or longer in order to have fewer chapters, but other than that, here is the first part and thank you for being patient on my writing!
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Blinding - Florence And The Machine
The Endless had 8 children, each with a purpose in life.
Destiny with the purpose of defining all that is, Death was destined to put the universe to rest, Dream with the creation of stories and imagination, Destruction with the power of not only destroying but of making and producing, Desire with the purpose of wanting and lust along with their twin Despair who is the personification of despair and hope, and Delirium who can create realities and manipulate the human mind.
They all had an important purpose.
All but one.
The eighth child was the youngest of them all, having been born eons later after Delirium resulting in the last sibling of the Endless family. His siblings figured that he would have a purpose just like them only to have none. The last sibling wasn’t special nor was he given a proper name that would fit his so called ‘purpose’ instead both Father Time and Mother Night left their last child in the hands of their other children.
He expected his brothers and sisters to help him find a purpose that brought balance to the human realm, but neither sibling was much help. The twins simply teased him, mocking his existence while the others grew to busy in their own duties to give him the attention he needs, a few of his other siblings were busy searching for the ‘Prodigal’ who had left his duty many years ago and was being searched in order to restore balance again.
The youngest Endless could only watch from the sidelines holding onto hope that he too, would have a purpose of his own.
As he was passed around from sibling to sibling he spent most of his time in their realms watching their work and staying in line from overstepping into their duties. He spent most of his time in Dreams realm feeling his heart warm in joy when he walked through his brothers creation. The creation of stories and imagination was a powerful thing for many humans something that his brother found joy in doing.
There were times that he spent his time in his brothers library, hidden behind many rows of books, watching from the corners as his brother speaks with Lucian and Marvin. No matter how long he spends in this dreaming he never had the chance to actually create a bond with his brother, growing afraid each time he approached him when returning a book or when trying to ask a simple question about his creations.
Delirium was technically the baby in the family before he came into the picture and Dream already struggled with creating a bond with his sister and he didn’t want to get in the way of their bond. He spent years without knowing his duty that he’s grown used to being an outsider from his siblings, spending his ‘family’ dinners alone in Dreams realm, trying to stay out of their business as much as possible.
Even if his sister, Death, tired to convince him to join them for dinner he’d refuse and continue on with his day. What was the purpose of him being there? He can’t stand their whispers of pity, so why even bother.
He felt like a burden to his own family, so instead of trying to fit in he’d slowly pushed himself out of the picture and allowing them to have the spotlight while he stood out the frame. There were times that wished to disappear like his brother, Destruction. He didn’t know much about him and the others didn’t talk about him, not because they hated him, but because of the pain it brought them when reminded of their brother leaving without a word, abandoning his duty and hiding from the world.
When wandering around Dreams library he had found a book hidden deep in the shelves that contained a photo of his brother, Destruction. He looked older than the others and with a rugged expression on his face, having facial hair on his face and perhaps a grumpy like exterior. He kept the image of his brother in mind before putting the book back where it belongs in order to keep his brother, Dream from knowing his findings.
“A nightmare has escaped.”
He was doing his usual routine, hiding in the library and nose buried in a book before his ears perk at the sound of the ravens worried tone when landing near Lucians desk and letting her know about the situation.
“Does Lord Morpheus know about this?” Lucian had asked while she looked through the new plans of the realm, showing very little interest towards the situation since she had no control over dreams and nightmares.
The raven, Matthew tilts his head to the side. “He does—“
“Then I don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“It’s that new nightmare.” Said Matthew, voice laced with worry and concern.
His words causes Y/n to look up from his book, eyes widening when hearing Matthew. He knew what nightmare he was referring to and knew how messy the situation can turn out if a nightmare were to abandon its duties. Dream always kept an eye on his dreams and nightmares and had been making changes in his realm, more like improvements. He had been changing his nightmares into dreams and leaving him with time to make new nightmares for the dreamers, having created one that lurks on your deepest fears named Pitch.
Y/n never liked the nightmare when first meeting him, his tall structure and sharp yellow eyes always made him shiver and whenever he was alone the nightmare always found him.
“Pitch is nothing but problems.” Sighed Lucian while removing her glasses.
Matthew lets out a small sound of understanding. “He reminds me of the Corinthian in some way.”
The name was familiar to Y/n, having heard about him and the troubles he’s brought into Dreams realm the nightmare was so bad that Dream had to destroy his creation and store him away. His brother had claimed that he will restore the Corinthian again, one day when he deemed the time right.
Y/n doesn’t stay longer to listen to their conversation and closes his book, leaving it on the table and standing from where he sat. He doesn’t spare the librarian and raven a glance, having grown used to their silent glances when his presence is made known, leaving the library and making his way towards his brothers chambers where he finds him pacing around the room while reading a book in hand. He’s noticed the stack of books scattered on the floor with different names from many dreamers.
He can’t help but raise a brow at his brothers mess, but doesn’t point it out when approaching him.
“I suppose you are busy?”
Dream doesn’t look away from his book and keeps pacing. “I am always busy.” His voice echos back before stopping mid pace to look over to Y/n who stood a good distance from the other Endless. Dream looks at him up and down before asking. “Is there something you need?” He’d usually brush off anyone’s needs and focus on himself, but after his imprisonment of 100 years and spending more time around humans he’s grown to change.
Showing some compassion for once.
The younger endless stares at Dream and then down at the books that surround them both. He wants to jump in and help his brother with finding his missing nightmare to be able to do something for once. “I heard that Pitch left the realm.” He starts, noticing the slight frown appear on his brothers face which makes him bite the inside of his cheek in a nervous manner.
“I can help with finding him?” He finally asks.
Dream shuts his book which causes Y/n to flinch and avoid his brothers eyes, looking away nervously after asking. He would expect his brother to be upset for wanting to step in and provide assistance to his mistake when it was his duty to fix the problem and not Y/n’s.
But his brothers words surprise him. “I’d appreciate the help.”
Y/n’s eyebrows raise in surprise when he’s accepted to help, nodding slowly as he takes a few steps closer and a bit hesitant on what to do. “What are you looking for in these books?” He asks and bends down to pick one up, reading the name of the dreamer before flipping it open and skimming through the pages.
“Pitch lurks on fear. Since I no longer have my ruby, I am unable to find my nightmares and must doing things a bit differently.” Dream being to explain as he walks over to the other side of the room to toss the book he was currently reading on top of another pile. Y/n guessed that it’s the finished books he’s read. “If I wish to find Pitch I have to find out which dreamers are most likely to be targeted by him.”
Y/n looks back at the stack of books with wide eyes. “You’re trying to locate a dreamer who could possibly lure Pitch in?” He says in disbelief and turns back to Dream. “That could take hours or days, all dreamers have nightmares so Pitch could be going after anyone.” He sets the book down and steps back to stare at the different piles, reading off names and trying to figure out his brothers outrageous system of locating his missing nightmare.
Dream lets out a dry chuckle when hearing his little brothers worries and shakes his head. “Then,” he walks over to Y/n and hands him a book. “Lets get started.” The little Endless can only mentally groan as he takes the thick book in hand and watched Dream get back to his own reading.
The room falls into a comfortable silence as the two read for what felt like hours. The sound of flipping pages echoed in the throne room and the placement thud of the book beings piled up as the continued their reading. As much as he enjoyed spending time in his brothers library he was slowly growing tired of reading dreamers lives and how they spent their time in the dreaming realm when sleeping. Even though he doesn’t have a purpose he’s starting to realize that being a Dream lord wouldn’t be for him.
It wasn’t until he breaks out into a yawn that it gets the Dream lords attention, eyes glancing up from his book and towards his brother who was half asleep at this point. Dream sighs through his nose and closed his book, setting it aside from where he sat on the steps. “You're tired, get some sleep.”
Y/n snaps his head up and shakes his head at Dreams words. “I’m fine I can keep going.” He waves him off and tries to concentrate on the book o his lap, but Dream had quickly taken the book from him and closed it. “I can tell when someone doesn’t sleep.” His voice is low as he towers over Y/n who sits on the floor and sighs to himself, rubbing his eyes and nodding his head slowly. “Okay, I’ll get some sleep.” He mumbled in return as he stands from where he sat.
Even though he wanted to help Dream in finding Pitch he’d need to get some rest if he wishes to keep going. When letting Dream know that he will head off to his room and get some proper rest for the night he makes sure to sneak at least one book back to his bedroom in order to keep helping out of his brother sight and not get into any trouble.
He holds the book against his chest when leaving his throne room and down a different hall in his castle. He yawns again when reaching his own bedroom, its big and spacious when entering a few books are on the shelf and small little valuables are sitting near the balcony not having a lot since he spent most of his time in the Dreaming with his brother.
He tossed the book on his bed and falls face first into his pillow, moaning tiredly and closing his eyes for a few seconds, letting his body relax against the soft blankets and pillows. The silence wakes him back up, opening his eyes and glancing over to the book he had snuck into his room.
It was surprisingly thin and the binding is all black, getting his attention as he sits up and turns around to lie on his back. He grabs the book and holds it up, reading the name on the front cover.
“Bruce Wayne…” He whispers the name to himself and flips the cover open, starting at the beginning like every other book he’s read. He knows he’s suppose to be sleeping or else his brother will use his sand on him, but he can’t help but grow eager to continue helping his brother, to be able to do something for once as he reads the book in hand.
He’s nodding off little by little and trying to concentrate on the words on the pages, shaking the sleep away and sighing as he adjusts his sleeping position and groans before flipping to the next page only to freeze, his eyes full of confusion as he sits up, fully awake as he stares down at blank pages. He’s never seen something like this in the books, finding half of the pages blank.
The mans life ends in nightmares, but the blank pages had to mean something. He quickly pulls the blankets back and slips out of bed, rushing out of his room and holding the book in hand as he heads back to his brothers throne room to ask him about the strange book.
“Dream—?”
“Aren’t you suppose to be sleeping?” Dream cuts in and slams his book shut, setting it aside onto a pile. The time that Y/n spent reading had resulted in the shift of books, having less around the throne room since his brother had finished reading a few on his own. Before Y/n can ask about the blank pages in the book his brother had approached him and takes his wrist in hand, dragging him back to his room.
“Wait—!”
“I’ve told you many times that you are to be asleep, unlike me you need the rest since your body isn’t adjusted to the dreaming realm quiet yet.” He began to explain, disregarding Y/n’s protests as he’s dragged back to his room. “But Dream—!?”
“Enough talk.” They make it back to his room where Dream shoves him back into bed and takes the book from his grip, setting it aside and ignoring the title of the book since he was focused on Y/n.
“But the book!” said Y/n as he reached out to grab it only for Dream to push him back into bed.
“You can tell me about it tomorrow, now you sleep.” He doesn’t give Y/n the chance to speak again as he uses his sand on his little brother, watching as he yawns and his eyes slowly flutter closed.
Y/n doesn’t dream.
He knows that his own brother does since its apart of him, but Y/n never had dreams or nightmares. He always wondered if it was because he wasn’t an Endless like his siblings with a purpose in the human realm. His siblings had dreams, but never spoke about them. Dream had their books with their dreams and nightmares written locked away from prying hands, he never read their books in order to keep the privacy and respect, never lurking in their dreams to see what they think of when sleeping. He made a rule to never do such thing, but Dream was surprised when his little brothers book wasn’t on the shelf.
He had given it time since he was still young, but after eons, nothing.
That’s why Y/n had woken up without feeling anything, falling asleep in darkness and waking up as if nothing ever happened. He’d stare at the ceiling of his room, quiet and still as he thinks about last nights discoveries. He turns to his left where his brother had left the book. He would have expected Dream to take it back instead of leaving it in his room.
He takes the book into his hands again and reads the name to himself once more. His fingers opening the book as he flips through the empty pages in hopes of finding new words only to find nothing, ending in the same way as last night.
“You can’t be dead.” He says to himself when closing the book, he’s seen how their story is written before death comes for them. It always ends with a dream before their story reaches an end, but Bruce’s didn’t have that and it made him question it.
He holds the book in hand when leaving his room, heading off to see his brother only to find the throne room empty when arriving. The books that were scattered around were gone, leaving the place empty and clean. He decides to check the library, perhaps he could find his brother there if the books were all cleaned up.
Only, he doesn’t find his brother there other than Lucian.
“Lucian, have you seen Dream?” He speaks up softly towards the librarian as she organized a few books and puts them in their designated space in the shelves. She looks up from her work and sighs. “Lord Morpheus had to attend a family dinner.” She responds back which makes Y/n’s heart race at the statement, forgetting that family dinners were every few years.
He was always invited but rarely went since he didn’t want to deal with the usual conversations.
“Found your purpose yet?”
“Still staying with Dream?”
“Why even have another endless when you can’t figure out why you are here.”
The past conversation makes him shudder, hating the feeling of being different.
Lucian can easily see the sadness hidden behind Y/n’s eyes as if showing that he’s fine when deep down inside he was hurting.
“I was curious about something,” He began to say, holding the book under his arm. “have you ever dealt with a dreamers dreams not showing in their books?”
Lucian raises a brow at his question. “Lack of dreams?”
Y/n shakes his head. “More like, disappearing from the human realm when they aren’t really dead?” He winced at his own question, unsure if he was making sense towards the librarian.
“Oh,” Lucian gives him a look of surprise. “Well, we once dealt with a boy who went missing in the dreaming. We couldn’t find him in his books and it looked like he had disappeared from the world.” She explains while shelving books. “Turns out that a nightmare was keeping him hidden, using their power and work to hide the boy from the real world. A way of escaping reality and hiding in the dreaming.”
Y/n takes in her words, glancing down at the book he had. Thinking that perhaps this Bruce is suffering from nightmares, making him easy bait for Pitch. He isn’t sure if he’s right or wrong, but he knows he should let his brother know since its an urgent matter due to pitch leaving his duties and causing a problem to his brother.
“Thank you, Lucian.” He leaves the book on the table and quickly leaves the library. He doesn’t usually attend family dinners, but perhaps this once he can make an appearance only to let Dream know about his discoveries and then leave. His siblings always took turns in hosting dinners, sharing each others realms for a short period of time together.
Last dinner took place in Deaths realm, today it’s Destiny’s.
In order to enter his brothers realm he’d have to ask permission, but since its a family dinner he doesn’t need to ask. He’s only been in Destiny’s realm a few times, liking his garden that he walked through in order to make it to the clear opening where a dining table is set and finds his siblings conversing amongst each other.
He always felt nervous around his other siblings. He’s known them for eons, but he didn’t really know them. He only saw them as his siblings who took care of him when he was a child, but as time went by and he continued to age things had changed between them.
“Look who decided to join us.”
Desires voice floats through the air as he looks over to his sibling, giving them a small nod of acknowledgment. “Desire.”
“Endless.” They said back.
Y/n mentally flinched at the name. He’s Endless, but Endless of what?
“That’s a surprise, you usually don’t come to these dinners.” They continued on, taunting him with a sly grin on their face. “Oh!” They gasp out. “Are you here to tell us that you’ve finally found a purpose or did you just come to ruin the dinner?” They and Despair laugh at their comment which leaves Y/n quiet.
“That’s enough.” Dream cuts in, stopping his siblings mocking. Desire clicks their tongue and rolls their eyes when their fun is ruined.
Dream looks over to Y/n. “Are you here to join us?”
He doesn’t know what to say, his mind feels fuzzy and can hear his heart racing in his ears. His eyes glancing over to the twins who murmured to each other, his eyes then shift over to Death who looks at him with eyes full of pity and concern—he hated that look. His brother Destiny didn’t even look at him and and Delirium was lost in her own world.
It wasn’t until his eyes land on the empty chair across from Dream. He’s confused at first, asking himself why they would have a chair for him. “Oh…”
There was 7 seats, one for each sibling.
The seventh wasn’t for him. It was for his missing brother, Destruction.
He’s now realized had he’s never had a seat amongst them.
“Y/n?”
Dreams voice pulls him out of his thoughts, looking back at his brother and noticed the small hint of concern in his voice.
“Is something wrong?”
Y/n gives his brother a fake smile. “It’s nothing.”
He doesn’t stay much longer and turns his back, leaving his brothers garden and heading back to the Dreaming where he belonged. Did he really belong to the dreaming? Dream was only being a kind brother and letting him stay in his realm until he’s found his purpose but its been eons and he still hasn’t figured out what kind of endless he is. Thinking about it makes him feel like a burden, having bothered his brother for years not asking himself if Dream has perhaps grown tired of having him around.
He found beauty in his brothers work always amazed by his creations and ideas that he can’t help but think that he’s a mistake wandering around his brothers creation.
“You are just Endless.”
Dream of the Endless.
Death of the Endless.
Desire of the Endless.
They all had a name, but him.
“How can I know who I am…” He whispers in the emptiness of his room, staring at the pile of books that he had left forgotten in his room only to remember last nights book.
“Bruce Wayne.”
He may not be someone who can lead him to Pitch, but he could be a start. He’s curious to know why his book ended in blank pages, waiting to be filled with words. Even if he was wrong at least it was an excuse for him to leave the realm to perhaps find himself something out in the Waking.
Y/n had seen the Waking and had very little interactions with mortals, but perhaps he’ll get the chance to know them at a better level. There isn’t much for him to take other than a notebook with notes regarding his brothers dreams and nightmares and his time here in the dreaming. His room never had anything valuable only a simple bed and a few books, nothing else.
He flips the book open and reads his last page.
“Gotham City.”
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2kiran · 3 months
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THREEKVENT NAVIGATION
sub bruce wayne soft dom gn reader handjob
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Bruce Wayne leaned against the brick wall, his suit uncomfortably sticking to his skin with how badly he’s been sweating. Each movement caused his breath to hitch, the material grazing the cut on his side. Thankfully not deep, but it hurt like a bitch.
He reached over, unlocking the window. Bruce found himself returning late at night to your apartment after encounters with criminals, taking in more hits than normal for a proper excuse.
Fate happened. You were a kind stranger, he was injured, and he needed help. Eventually, it remained like that for a while. He’d be in one place, some sort of wound visible, and you’d take him in. His eyes had watched you like a hawk, grunting and squirming away from the slightest of advance on instinct.
Embarrassingly enough, he immediately melted into your gentle touch. You guided him, made him feel what it was like to be openly vulnerable with someone else present. It’s wrong. You’re a civilian, continuously helping Batman would put your life at risk.
He feels guilty about it. You’re too kind for him, never daring to stay close to him than is necessary and choosing to respect his personal space. It was welcomed at first, but he wants more of it, more of you.
The only time he’ll actually touch you is when the pain is incredibly overwhelming his senses, which has him catching your wrist accompanied by a restrained grunt. Like he’d been burned, he’d pull back once reality crashed back down. He can’t, he shouldn’t. He’s putting you in danger.
Damn it all to hell.
Bruce tripped, stumbled, landing right on your lap. How convenient, he thought. He held himself upright, clutching the top of the couch’s backrest in a death grip, eyes wide. Bruce frantically searched your face, analyzing your reaction. “I’m—” He’s cut off when you pull him closer, gasping in surprise.
“It’s okay.” You reassure him, a soft smile gracing your lips and he wants to kiss you senseless. Until you can’t feel your hands, your face, or use that smart brain.
He stays like that, straddling your hips as you clean the wound on his side. It’s taking everything in him for his thoughts not to drift towards sinful ideas, borderline unprofessional.
He can’t help it.
Every touch, even an accidental brush on his skin has his breath hitching, anticipation thrumming in his veins. Heat pools deep within him, leaving him aching. He hopes you don’t notice, pants tightening and he’s almost painfully hard.
You do. Of course, you do. Right when you finish patching him up, earning a few pained groans, you halt him from standing up and leaving. “Batman.”
Oh fuck. Bruce is doomed. He wants to sink into the floor, or maybe the wall would be better. You know how he truly feels about the situation, and this is the last time he’ll ever see you. Panic rises, but he doesn’t allow it to outwardly show. His palms suddenly become all clammy, sweat dotting his forehead—
“May I?” Damn you.
Your hand settled on his muscled thigh and he has to suppress a shiver. Your fingers inched closer to where he needed you the most, just a little bit higher. But then you stop. Bruce whines.
“Please,” Batman didn’t beg, never did. “Please, I-I need it.”
He panted, excitement delivering a spark of heat that rushed straight to his core. His arms surrounded your shoulders, trapping you in his hold as he leaned down to your neck to hide in shame. He assists you in pulling down his suit enough to expose his glistening cock, pre-cum oozing from his slit.
Bruce felt like a wreck, lips in a tight line to prevent any embarrassing sounds from leaving his throat. Your thumb swiped across the cockhead, pressing down with enough pressure to force out a choked gasp from him.
“Don’t hold back,” You whisper directly into his red-tinted ear. He felt his hole clench around nothing, your words making him light-headed and he involuntarily bucks his hips against your touch. “I’ve got you, c’mon. Let me hear you.”
His breath stutters when you begin to gently trace the angry veins, moaning softly as he pulsates in your grasp. It’s been too long since he’s had someone—anyone—to touch him intimately, but never like you are now.
Your fingers wrap around his cock, slicking up your palm. It’s a slow pace, guiding him to a gradual orgasm. Gods, fuck, why were you being like this? He’s uncertain whether he enjoys how you’re treating him as though he’s made of glass that could shatter any unforgiving moment or if he should beg for you to fuck him rougher, make him go all dumb and drunk off the feeling of you.
He desperately ruts against you, it was selfish but the both of you knew he needed it. “Mmm.. fuck, I–” He gasps when you jerk him off a bit quicker, coming up to tease the underside of his tip every single time. Throbbing at the increased pace, he felt his eyes roll back into his skull. “more, ah ah mngh, more please.”
Bruce knew his manners, with his skin absolutely flushed and mind consumed with lust and greed to taste and take. “Yeah? Keep talking for me.” You urged, twisting your wrist as his pre-cum lathed up your hand, producing so much he seems like he’s right there. “Feels so g–good.” He whimpers, thighs trembling as his knees were beginning to fail on him.
Your too-good praise didn’t help him, at all. He felt young all over again, horny and wanting. “Beautiful,” you whisper, “need me to help you, don’t you, B?” The air gets knocked out of him, leaving him panting. He can barely feel his brain, all sensations leading to your hand pumping his wet cock.
“Need you,” He didn’t care how pathetic he seemed in this state, all he knew how desperate he was for you with your slick palm teasing his tip, rubbing in little quick circles. “ngh, so bad...”
Bruce Wayne knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, but he wants you to stay with him. He could protect and provide for you. Who else would you want to be with besides him? That’s right. No one.
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ghostbxne · 9 months
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(projecting) guys i think hes on the spectrum
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