#Bruce is trying to be suspicious but mans is hot
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What about Bruce"sneaking out" to go on date with the reader. His son's obviously follow him to see what their father is up to. When they realize that he's going on a date, they tease him the next day because 'the playboy is settling down'
Oh yeah. That would happen. Also, Robert Pattinson is hot. Like, sir, who gave you the right to be this beautiful?! Ah...
Summary: Bruce is ready to settle down.
Warnings: talks about Bruce's sexuality, boys following Bruce, teasing, Bruce has no will to deal with them.
Bruce Wayne is a very known playboy. That was a fact that no one could dispute. But the playboy was slowly getting ready to settle down, but he didn't want anyone to know just yet. He knew that his playboy history would bite him in the ass, but hey, he could try something at least.
With someone called (Y/N) (L/N). Bruce met the man by accident at work and has really liked him so he decided to shoot his shot with the man. (Y/N) knew of the playboy persona and history with many men and women and that threw him off.
Bruce knew that (Y/N) would be suspicious because of his playboy persona. That was going to happen, but Bruce wasn't going to let this chance go to waste. Bruce promised (Y/N) that he wasn't like the media made him out to be.
(Y/N) didn't quite believe it, but Bruce was patient. He was going to win (Y/N) over one way or another. Slowly but surely he would make him say yes. He would show (Y/N) that he wasn't what the media portrayed him to be.
So he started with some flowers first. A few bouquets to start off with. Then something that he heard (Y/N) talk about while they talked. He wanted to make sure that (Y/N) knew that he was an attentive and observant partner.
(Y/N) said yes eventually and Bruce was over the moon. He told (Y/N) they would be going to go to a really fancy restaurant, all expenses paid by Bruce. His own words.
Bruce finished tying his tie as he looked at himself in the mirror. He opted for a classic black suit. Classics are often great and there was no need to try to overdo things. It's important that he remains true to yourself.
The only issue in this entire thing?
His boys. Don't get him wrong, he loves his boys to no end and Bruce would never change anything about them. But... There is a slight problem about them teasing him about all of this. They are chaotic boys who love him in their own way, but they would tease the hell out of him for this date.
Sneaking out was the only option.
After that, Bruce slowly made his way to the garage, getting into his car where flowers and a watch were waiting as presents. He made sure no one followed him before leaving.
Oh he was so wrong for that train of thought.
Jason frowned in thought as he watched Bruce drive away. He knew that Bruce has been secretive about something for a little while now, but he didn't know what. The boys agreed with that sentiment and decided to check where and what Bruce was going.
So they put the tracker on his car and have decided to follow him to the place where he was. They have an entire sting operation when it comes to that. They were raised by the best detective in the world. Not to mention, they were trained by Bruce in all the ways to be sneaky.
So, after 20 minutes, Dick took one of the cars with tinted windows and they all squeezed in there, just ready to stalk their father. They were concerned, sue them. Jason and Dick where at the front, while Jason was navigating Dick through the city until they parked across the street from the restaurant.
Tim hacked into the cameras inside the restaurant and the four watched the footage of Bruce and (Y/N). Both when they came into the restaurant and now.
" Father bought flowers and a watch? Since when playboys do that? It looks like it has meaning. " Damian questioned out loud and everyone shrugged.
Then came the kiss on the cheek from Bruce to (Y/N) and everyone was even more shocked.
" What the fuck? " Jason voiced out and Dick smacked the back of his head for the cursing. " Hey! "
Tim shushed them all as he turned the footage to the live one. " They seem very cozy with one another... " Tim noted and everyone seemed to agree.
" The playboy is finally settling down. " Jason joked, laughing quietly.
It was a weird thought, to think that Bruce has decided to settle down like a normal person and not like a playboy... Is Bruce really serious about this relationship?
" Do we think that B is finally settling? " Dick asked and none of them were sure of the answer.
" I mean, he is always nice to his lovers and what not. Always trying to seduce... But he seems... Gentle? " Tim said as he zoomed in and everyone was now a bit more confused.
" So... He is settling down... The old man is settling down... Holy shit. Pigs can fly it seems. " Jason mumbled and everyone had agreed about it. For the first time in years, they have all agreed on something.
" The playboy of Gotham is settling down. What a time to be alive. " Dick joked and Tim huffed as he kept watching the live footage.
" It seems that the guy is into Bruce too... " Tim noted and Damian looked out the window for a moment.
" I didn't know that father is bisexual. " Damian noted, but there was no malice in his voice, just pure curiosity about his father as he leaned closer
" I mean, people of all genders hit on him so... Him being bisexual isn't an issue... I think it flatters him to a certain degree. "
" Oh, the lovebirds are holding hands. Oh my. " Jason noted as he craned his head to get a better look at the footage on the tablet.
" Is it just me or is B smiling more honestly? Like he isn't being pressured? " Dick asked and that was a new thing.
" I think that this confirms it. Bruce Thomas Wayne is settling down. The playboy is settling down. " Tim said, clearly shocked. " We need a background check on this guy. " Tim added and everyone agreed.
What if he was a gold digger? They couldn't have that. Bruce may have an eye out for such people and could see them from a mile away, so they may have trusted Bruce, but you never know. It's better to be safe then sorry.
" So we are doing a check on the man? " Jason asked to confirm it and everyone nodded.
" Oh yeah. The face is all that we need for a check. " Tim confirmed. Again, better safe then sorry.
" I think we can go back home before Bruce sees us here. " Dick said as he started the car again and started driving back to the manor.
" I'm not sure about you all, but I'm teasing the hell out of B tomorrow. " Jason said and they all laughed. Besides Damian, who simply smirked in his own Al Ghul way.
They'll have so much fun tomorrow.
All of the boys ventured down to the kitchen where Bruce was. The boys were all smirks as the entered, Bruce not noticing the expressions as his back was turned back to them.
There were a few good morning exchanged and they all took their coffees and sat down.
" Where were you yesterday B? " Dick started and Jason smirked behind his coffee cup. This was going to be a complete and utter shit show.
" I had some League matters to see through. " Bruce lied and Jason took the lead now.
" In one of the fanciest restaurants in Gotham? " Jason said and Bruce froze.
" What? "
" You were on a date and we know it. " Tim said, sipping his coffee peacefully as Bruce exploded inside.
" The playboy is settling down. " Damian added and Bruce let out a long sigh.
" Not now. "
" Look old man, it's all good. It's nice that the biggest playboy in the tri state area is retiring and finally settling down. " Jason chimed in.
" Don't tell me you are doing a background check? " Bruce asked, fearing the answer already.
" Nooo... " Jason drawled out.
" I'm going to work. Bye. " Bruce said as he left with his cup of coffee.
" Oh how nice B! It's nice to see you leave the playboy persona behind! " Jason yelled after Bruce and all the boys were all smirks as Bruce left.
" We won't let this go. " Damian said and they all nodded.
They won't let go for shit.
#dc comics#dc x male reader#x male reader#bruce wayne x male reader#batman x male reader#jason todd x male reader#red hood x male reader#dick grayson x male reader#nightwing x male reader#tim drake x male reader#red robin x male reader#damian wayne x male reader#robin x male reader
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Can Fright Knight x Batman be a thing? Is it already a thing? I just saw this post where Frighty is acting as Danny's dad and I just want something with Fredric Knight meeting Bruce like..
Bruce is happy Daimian is making friends. This new kid, Daniel "call me Danny" Knight, seems nice. Kid might be a meta or something, with the way his eyes reflect like a cats and how he seems to always be cold, but he doesn't seem to be a bad kid and his background seemed to check out.
Yesterday Damian had invited Danny over for a sleepover and Bruce was stoked. Dami is having a friend over! A civilian friend! This is so normal and great! Danny had said his father would be picking him up the next day and would show up on his motorcycle (which was apparently named Nightmare?)
Bruce is in the sitting room close to the entrance when Alfred goes to buzz the gate for Danny's father. After a few minutes, he can hear Alfred walking the man in and explaining that "young Master Damian will be down with young Daniel in a few minutes. Till then, maybe you'd like to speak with Master Bruce?"
Bruce almost falls out of his seat when this almost 7 foot tall hunk of a man walks in, with his long raven black hair with a streak of gray down the center, all pulled back into a low ponytail. His bright green eyes have that same, almost glowing, shine that Danny's have and he's got a neat bit of stubble on his sharp jaw. He holds himself tall and seems to scan the room before setting his gaze on Bruce, who is using all his will to not ogle at this gorgeous man in front of him.
He stands to greet him and, oh God, he may actually be 7ft. "You must be Danny's dad, right?" He offers his hand to shake, "Bruce Wayne. I'm happy to see my son making friends with such a nice kid."
The behemoth of a man stares at his hand for just a moment to long before he shakes it and introduces himself, "Fredric Knight. I'm also glad my son is making friends." He says with the hint of a smile, "He's been a bit reclusive since we came here and I don't believe that's been healthy for him."
The two fathers talk for a bit, Bruce doing his best to be Batman ever now and then to make sure this guy isn't a potential threat. After some time, Danny and Damien walk into the room with Danny's bags, "Hey Dad, hi Mr. Bruce. Sorry that took so long," he says as he walks over to Fred (Bruce was told he could call him that) and half hugs the man, "Dami has a snake and he let me feed her!" Fred looks down at his son and pats his head, "That sounds interesting, little prince. Was it a frightful creature?"
As father and son speak, Bruce notes how fond Fred seems of Danny. The 'little prince' name seemed cute and pretty fitting with the last name. He also notes how Fred seemed to relax just a bit the moment Danny walked into the room (the same way he would after his children returned from patrol safe and unharmed), huh.
They say their goodbyes and the father-son duo are escorted out. Bruce and Damien watch as they ride down the driveway, Danny doing his best to wave at them from between his father's arms.
"We should invite the both of them over for dinner." Bruce says with a hand on his son's shoulder, "Fred seems like an interesting character, don't you think?"
"Father,"
"Yes Damian?"
"Please do not seduce my friends father."
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#fic prompt#dcxdp#Bruce deserves a big hunky man that isn't currently in a relationship#Dami isn't having this shit#Bruce is trying to be suspicious but mans is hot#fright night#Fright Knight x Batman#Fredric Knight x Bruce Wayne???#Danny would honestly think its kinda funny that Frighty doesn't realize he's seducing Bruce#Frighty is just trying to be a good human dad#Human dads talk about their kids and hobbies right?#dinner is a normal human activity that friends and family partake in right??#is this Bruce character his friend now??#Frighty: I've make an adult friend like you said i should#Danny: i don't think you understand what a crush looks like#Frighty: Crush? Am i meant to destroy something in the name of friendship??#Danny trying not to lose it: 🤭 no dad please don't 🤣
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Au where someone uses necromancy to try and revive ALL of Damians dead clones to kill the batfam. The bats are all caught up in traps and are busy trying to escape as neon green light cuts through the dark.
A large fist, clearly not belonging to Damian bursts through the summoning circle as a Solomon Grundy-ish figure slowly emerged and towered over the summoner. More...entities...rose from the magic circle as the spell caster ordered the Grundy look alike to attack them. The last of the beings, a somewhat normal if glowing girl, slipped out of the circle and its light faded into nothing as she floated there confused.
Grundy Jr, as Nightwing decided to call him, stomped towards Batmans cage and knocked all the bars away with a single swipe of his arm before picking up the tied up batman and...hugging him?!
Dick no longer knew what to think as the giant of a man continued to hug Bruce and say a word over and over again that sounded suspiciously like "Daddy"
His attention was drawn to a small green light zipping over to the lock on his shackles and undoing it, freeing him. The little light then landed on the bars of his own cage and made them seemingly disappear. He walked though, baffled but unhindered and was curious that the bars reappeared after the entity stopped making physical contact with it. Said light then burrowed into his hair.
The girl and another entity in a classic bedsheets ghost outfit were doing the same for the others as batman and Grundy Jr fought the confused spellcaster.
After the battle was over the girl made a phone call to her "cousin" Phantom. Who was apparently Robins secret (un)dead twin he never told any of them about. The magic user was dealt with, but now they had the new problem of 3 clones following them around calling them father/brother/sister respectively and refusing to go back to the spirit world or whatever.
Jason made the mistake of lifting up the bedsheet see what was under there, stared for a hot minute and yanked it back down. He refused to tell anyone what he saw.
Alfred was a bit...put off by his new grandchildren, but he loved them all no matter what shape or form they come in. And when Phantom appeared and agreed to help any way he could he knew he would be part of the family too someday. Especially with how Damian was hovering over him like an overprotective helicopter parent.
He was not prepared for the "perfect" clone to appear behind him. Silent and confused with no memory to call his own.
Danyals comment, "Well, I guess we're triplets now" earned him a glare from his older brother.
#fanfiction prompts#prompts#dp x dc#danny fenton#danny phantom#clones#stablizing them would be fun#so much to play with here#damian refuses to lose his little brother a second time#bruce: a son? a very big son?#jason is freaking out#kon hears about this and is over to help his clone brethren regardless of what anyone else says
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you are mentioning this Alpha called Dan... now I'm curious about them... could give us a glimpse of this himbo of a man?
Yes!! Thank you for asking!
So Dan came about while Januariat and I were talking about Lex and how he deserves his own alpha, to feel safe and loved, etc.
I thought it would be very funny if Lex was guarding the lake house later in Bruce's pregnancy when everyone in the Pack is on high alert, and he's out doing a patrol of the grounds when he comes across an unfamiliar alpha trying to get in. Obviously, this being Lex, he nearly kills the alpha before realizing that it's just the repairman.
Dan the nice repairman/handyman was hired by Alfred years ago to do occasional jobs on the property, and everyone forgot to tell him that the lake house was now Pack territory, so he just came waltzing in like usual to go check on the water softener, the pipes, the various electrical hookups, etc.
Dan is a very nice alpha from the Midwest, like Clark. His mother raised him right so when a vicious omega tries to rip his throat out, he just lays there in the dirt and gently holds him back, trying to purr and calm down this random person so they both don't get hurt.
I think what charms me about Dan and Lex is that Dan just wants to be useful first, an alpha second. Lex has been around a million alphas who throw their scent and weight around constantly, and he doesn't have time for an alpha who would even think about growling him into submission.
Dan doesn't know who escaped criminal, billionaire, murderer Lex Luthor is at all. He doesn't ask who the resident of the lake house is, which is why Alfred likes him and hired him in the first place. He's just here to fix things and go home and watch football. Obviously, this intrigues and delights Lex, because he's freaking weird.
Bruce is suspicious of Dan because he's an unfamiliar alpha who keeps making eyes at his packmate. Clark is hopelessly amused by the whole thing, and he watches Lex make a fool of himself for a himbo alpha from afar, sending approval when needed.
Dan proves to Lex that it's okay to slow down and enjoy the simple things. Like having a ruggedly hot alpha pliable and open to anything underneath him. Hmmm.....
Snippets from my conversation with @starkexpos last night:
Lex, holding onto the most basic alpha ever: this is my most prized possession, Dan. I love Dan. He fixes all the iPads I break.
Dan, slightly muffled: yeah I mean usually he just throws the iPads when he gets mad and the screen shatters so I have a buddy who sells me the screens at cost and I just replace them myself. It’s pretty easy actually…
and from @starkexpos:
The best part is that Bruce has to give a shovel talk and he’s SO UPSET that he’s going to have to give a shovel talk on Lex’s behalf he yells for 5 hours. Meanwhile Lex is just mooning over the plumber saying, “Dan….” in a dreamy voice.
I’m crying. This is so good. Literally the most boring, normal guy. He takes Lex to the Olive Garden for the Never-ending Pasta Bowl. It only happens once a year, he tells Lex excitedly.
@starkexpos I think the funniest thing about this dynamic is that everyone including Bruce expects Lex to see this alpha and snap him like a twig, but for some reason he is DELIGHTED by him and his humble pleasures. Like here is this dangerous rich omega criminal who eats alphas for breakfast and he’s at the Olive Garden purring at his boyfriend!
#asks#anon#a sky of honey#myfic#theresurrectionist#lex luthor#dan the OC#a/b/o mention#a/b/o tw#mpreg mention#mpreg tw
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Something occured to Bruce Wayne. He was still partially in costume, rushing up the stairs to meet "Danny Fenton" and he hadn't thought about it until he reached the door.
Why would someone impersonate a dead 14 year old?
From the nearby coat rack, Bruce took down his bathrobe and removed his shoes, covering the Batman logo on his chest with a Superman logo on his bathrobe.
Then he stepped into the firelit study.
"Master Bruce." Alfred said pertly, "I am pleased to introduce Danial Fenton,"
Short, scrawny and messy hair: the boy was dressed for middle school, his untied shoe laces mingled with the rich red of the study carpet. Presumably he was often on the move, the ankles of his jeans and the edges of his shoe laces showing wear.
Bruce smiled, displaying what he called "the Wayne Face", an all purpose expression for being watched, and offered the boy a handshake. And he was being watched, those blue eyes dug into him suspiciously and openly.
"I'm glad to finally meet you Danny, your uncle has talked a lot about you"
"Good meet you too Mr. Wayne."
Danny slid his hand into Bruce's grip, and shook once firmly. Cold.
"Wait, Vlad talks about me? "
Bruce chuckled, trying to sound more amused than worried. Vlad had certainly talked at length, but what was it that he'd said? Oh yes, Bruce had mentioned his sons and Vlad began ripping apart his steak with a dull butter knife, a small salad fork and his fingers. Something about showing them all.
'That small minded boy could have everything if he just did what I asked' was the only quote Bruce could spring to mind.
"He couldn't seem to say enough. I'm glad to finally meet you."
They parted their handshake.
“The young man and I were just discussing the possibility of hot chocolate Master Bruce.”
Danny stuffed his hands into his pockets sheepishly and Bruce smiled.
“Have you ever heard of Themysciran molten cocoa?”
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Hot goss with jason pls? his favorite foods/what his fave restaurant would be!!! or what he likes to cook for others
Sure thing. This'll be the last request I take. Thanks everyone for joining in!
Rest's Summer Slumber Party 2k22 | event closed!
Jason Todd Food HCs
In canon (see below the read more for screenscaps), he loves chili dogs! So I imagine his comfort food is the junk food he ate while growing up: bologna sandwiches, butter noodles, PB&Js, etc.
His palate now is more refined due to a combination of being adopted by Bruce and traveling the world and eating different cuisines.
Despite that, he's not a picky eater, and is actually a good pretty good cook since he's one of the more independent individuals in the Batfam.
He can't resist the temptation of a hoagie though. His favorite place is a hole in the wall in East End, but if he hears about a good sandwich place, he's checkin' it out.
He is a bread snob though, and he will tell you that a good loaf will make or a break the sandwich.
He has a soft spot for vegetables since he didn't eat them much while growing up aside from the occasional frozen peas or canned green beans. He thinks he acquired the taste for veggies as a result of the Lazarus Pit but it's actually just a part of growing up!
Have a dumb drabble and some screen shots from Gotham Knights #43 beneath the cut
"Hey Dickie," Jason asked in a rare moment of friendliness after patrol, "Wanna try one of my favorite meals while growing up?"
Dick looked around, unsure of what could possibly be open at this hour, but they were in Crime Alley and he trusted that Jason knew the area better than him.
"Sure, what is it?"
With a grin, the bigger man jumped on his back, pulling Dick into a headlock. Dick coughed a bit before getting out of the choke hold, elbowing Jason in the stomach.
He gave Jason a dirty look while the other was bent over in laughter.
Wiping a tear that didn't exist from his helmet, Jason asked him, "What? No compliments to the chef? When I was hungry and had nothin' to eat, the only thing I could do was make myself sleep."
Dick shook his head. Of course he should have been suspicious that Jason suddenly wanted to hang out. He never did.
"Not sure if that's more fucked up or sad."
Jason shrugged, "Who cares?" He walked a few paces ahead then disappeared around the corner. "My hot dog guy just set up. Better hurry before I eat them all."
Gotham Knights #43
It’s oddly sentimental that the password to get into Jason’s secret memorial chamber is ‘chilidogs.’ Bruce is a sentimental dad :’)
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Hope you had a good holiday! I was thinking of the reader from Indecent Proposal going over to Tim's house for some fun just before Christmas. Like maybe the 23rd. But a snow storm blows in and she can't get home so they're stuck hanging in Tim's room trying to hide the fact that she's there from his siblings. I feel like some hijinks will ensue.
Omg this is so fucking cute! I don't know if I can make it the 23rd (The reader is going to be invited to go to Cass' Christmas Recital, and also, I don't think reader's mother would simply let her spend the night at Tim's house on the night before the Christmas Eve, such an important date for Latinos, even with a snow storm), but I can definitely work with the idea!
It would be so funny because Alfred would totally know that Tim sneaked someone into the house and Damian would be confused about why Titus wanted to get into Tim's room so much!
Duke would try to help Tim to hide her and terribly make thinks worse drawing all the attention to Tim's quarters and then suddenly all the family is camping in front of his door and Bruce demands him to open it.
Reader would try to hide on the balcony but Tim would never allow, so he opens the door and the there is a girl completely blushed trying to explain to Bruce what was she doing in his house and apologizing for not being able to leave.
But Bruce simply don't care about it and the first thing he asks is why the fuck Tim didn't borrowed some of his winter clothing for his girlfriend. Tim would be incandescently happy because reader didn't deny being his girlfriend (maybe it was because 6'4'' Bruce Wayne, built like a fridge is fucking intimidating, maybe it's because her own parents think Tim is her boyfriend already) that he wouldn't even bother when Steph or Jason jokes about how Tim was keeping Reader warm.
And then reader would have to use Tim's winter clothing (that are obviously specially made for his maximum mobility and etc) and she would be like “Why the fuck is this so comfortable? You rich people really like to gatekeep your secrets from the mass...”
Alfred would probably make hot chocolate and tell reader that if she likes, her dates with Timothy could be in other parts of the Manor, since now they were forcibly removed from the closet. Tim thinks that this is a great idea and takes the reader to the cinema room and they would watch some holiday rom-com together and all the family ends up joining.
Damian would be suspicious because, yeah, he actually cares about Tim and would ask Reader a bazillion questions during dinner and Reader, being good with children, specially annoying children, would be rocking the interrogation.
Dick would just be so happy that his baby brother is in love (he already had his suspicions, since Tim was taking better care of himself in the previous months, even sleeping more, something he only does when he is trying to make things work with someone)
Steph, being Tim's bestfriend and also an icon, already knew about Reader. Actually, she was the one to incentive Tim to ask Reader out in the first place (I plan to post Tim's POV from some of the scenes in the future), but despite being a hopeless romantic, Tim has no idea about how to do romance and things kinda got out of his control. But that's okay, because all that's well ends well.
And then on the next day, before reader can leave to actually go back to her family, Cass invites her to watch the Christmas Recital in which Cass is playing the Sugar Plum fairy, around Christmas time.
Reader would be so flattered and happy about how the Waynes treated her so well despite her intrusement that she simply couldn't deny it and Tim is, once again, the happiest man in the world.
Anyways, now that i have imagined it, you guys are getting it on the storyline. It might take a while because here on Tumblr IP is still on early/mid-october, but you will get silly chistmas fluff scenes!
(Also, sorry for the delay in posting, I was moving from my previous apartment [yes, during the holiday bc my previous landlord is a shitty man] and was without internet for a couple of days)
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Bruce was not a superstitious man.
He was a suspicious man, paranoid even. But not superstitious.
He knew magic existed. He knew it was not something he could easily explain to himself or anyone else, and so he generally stayed away from it. It existed. But that didn’t mean it changed all his worldviews based on the discovery of its existence.
He just stayed away from it. It was easier than trying to drive himself insane from trying to make sense it. The Lazarus Pit brought people back to life, there was an equivalent of hell, some people could split the world into those above 18 and those below. If he didn’t question the ‘how’, he would generally stay more sane than if he tried to pick it apart. He preferred to focus on the ‘why’ instead.
So when the mansion suddenly became haunted, Bruce didn’t notice for over a week.
Having a wide range of children that filtered in and out of his house didn’t help in tipping him off either. Especially ones that acted a lot like the ghost in question.
A missing slipper would be blamed on a new pet Damian must have acquired and was attempting to hide in the mansion. Broken vases blamed on rambunctious children tearing through the house playing a game that required leaping off the walls. Disappearing snacks were also blamed on his very active household. Flickering lights were blamed on the mansions age. Cold spots also blamed on the fact the the mansion was massive and a furnace can only do so much at times. A passing black haired child could be a good number of his children based purely on height.
The ghost could have gone a lot longer without being noticed if they hadn’t shown any activity the week all his children were out of the mansion.
He knew that Damien was at his friends house for the night, that Dick was back in his own city and wouldn’t have time to visit during the week. Duke was on a vacation with his friends, enjoying a much needed rest, Jason mentioned being out of town for that week, Barbara was planning a party for her friends, also out of town. Cass and Steph were on a girls week tour out of the city, and Tim was with the titans for a couple of days.
Bruce was all alone.
Or so he thought.
He first saw a mop of black hair walk past him in the middle of the night, and he wished Tim a good night before realizing Tim wasn’t at the manor. When he spun around to check, the child has disappeared. He blamed it on a lack of sleep and moved on.
Then the snacks kept disappearing. Even the ones Bruce had managed to hide. Ones that none of his kids knew of.
One room in the manor was especially cold. An empty spare room. Cold even on a hot summer evening.
What finally tipped him off was when one of the sturdiest vases he owned tipped over behind him and shattered. And a small ‘shit’ was whispered behind him.
He didn’t do anything at first.
He mostly began to just observe, try to catch what else this ghost had been doing. He could tell it wasn’t malicious in any way. Nothing flew off a shelf in anger, there was no wailing or screaming, and so far nobody was getting hurt. He considered calling John.
But the idea was dismissed as John was more likely to anger the ghost of Wayne Manor than help them.
He noticed little things, how he could tell when the ghost entered the room just by how the temperature would drop. The small sighs from empty corners, soft chuckles when Bruce put on comedic television, how close the ghost was just based on the temperature, he even began to notice the ghost was helpful at times. He once complained about losing his keys and 5 minutes later, it was on his side table.
He also noticed at night that he could hear sobs. Soft, contained, a fear of being heard but unable to stop. Times when he would enter a room and the temperature would rise as the ghost quickly moved somewhere else.
Bruce figured the cold room he discovered was the one the ghost favoured. That was the one he heard most of the sobs coming from.
The ghost was much more active during the night than they were during the day. But there were times in the late afternoon that Bruce would notice the change in temperature, the soft hums of something buzzing, and then the cold sitting right next to him.
He saw the ghost the one morning he didn’t hear any crying, opening the door to the spare room and peeking in.
There was a shape in the bed, familiar black hair peeking out from the edge of the blanket, a soft rise and fall of the mound as the stranger slept.
But ghosts didn’t breath.
They didn’t sleep.
He didn’t know a lot about magic.
But Bruce knew the dead didn’t sleep or breath.
So maybe they didn’t have a ghost.
Bruce stepped silently into the room, years of experience keeping his steps light and soft. He got closer to the bed, and eventually he got a clearer look at the stranger.
Black hair, like so many of his kids, pale skin, with strange freckles lining his cheeks that seemed to shin slightly green in the dim light. There were scars too. Lots of little ones on his cheeks, a few on his lips and eyebrows, all healed.
Bruce lightly sat on the bed next to the child, who luckily didn’t stir just yet. He gently reached out, placing a hand on his head and running it through his hair.
“Five more minutes, Jazz…”
Bruce froze, then slowly retracted his hand. He took his time standing up and leaving the room, carefully closing the door behind him to be sure not to wake the boy.
He turned around to see the Alfred watching him, a smile playing at his lips, “shall I get the papers, sir?”
Bruce nodded, “how long have you known?”
Alfred turned around to get the papers, “I was the one that let him in.”
#danny phantom#danny fenton#fic#Batman#Batman adopts Danny#Danny haunts the mansion#crossover#phic#fanfic#fanphic#Bruce Wayne#alfred pennyworth#Alfred spots Danny in the rain while getting groceries#oh Bruce is gonna love this#Alfred just lets any child into the manor#he knows Bruce will figure out there’s more kids eventually#eventually#ghost
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I Spy
Bruce Wayne x Reader
Summary: While out on a date, you feel a set of familiar eyes watching you. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: Jealous Bruce.
Word Count: 3259
A/N: I’m wrapping up with finals which means back to writing and who better to start with than my favourite bat boy ;)
“‘Many have their own theories behind Bruce Wayne’s reclusive nature, with some suspecting that the billionaire is harbouring a dark secret,’” you read aloud. You’re flipping through a trashy magazine you picked up when you saw Bruce’s name on the cover. Your words echo throughout the Batcave as you lean back in an office chair you claimed as your own. You liked that it reclined.
Beside you, Bruce Wayne is seated in front of his multi-screened monitor, silently watching videos he recorded as Batman. In the beginning you would watch with him but eventually you realized it was all very similar and you got bored.
It was a complete accident that you found out his secret. You had been Bruce’s friend for years, always trying to bring a bit of fun and joy into the man’s otherwise gloomy life. You had been on your way to do just that, ready with a batch of cookies that he always says he doesn’t want but you know he secretly does. You knocked at the door and Dory let you in. You went wondering around the house and stumbled upon a hushed conversation between Bruce and Alfred in the office. Feeling nosy, you listened in:
“I don’t want to go,” you heard Bruce say. Alfred sighed.
“I understand that Master Bruce, but I think it would be in your best interest to go,” Alfred responded.
“Why? To negotiate business deals?” Bruce scoffed.
“That and I think it’s important you keep up with public appearances. People are starting to get suspicious,” Alfred said which made you confused as to what he was talking about. Then he said: “After all, you wouldn’t want anyone to find out that Bruce Wayne doubles as a bat-themed vigilante at night.”
“Alfred no one’s gonna—” Bruce stopped himself as a gasp escaped your mouth. He slowly opened the door to find you standing there with your mouth wide open. Bruce and Alfred had both looked panicked, but Bruce tried to act as if nothing had happened. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on other people’s private conversations—”
“You’re Batman?!” you shouted. Bruce and Alfred both tried to explain themselves, but it was clear that the cat was out of the bag. Or rather, the bat.
At first you were a little mad at Bruce for not telling you, but you got over it. You understood the importance of the secret. After that you wouldn’t leave him alone about it. Eventually he brought you to the Batcave, which he would come to regret as you fell in love with the place and decided that it was your new hangout spot.
Which brings you to leaning back in your chair, trying to distract Bruce while he ignores you, which annoys you. You had hoped reading from this magazine would grab his attention. “‘Some theorists have claimed to have caught glimpses of the allusive man from his manor’s windows. One even claimed to have seen him shirtless, and described the image as unbelievably hot and—’”
“It does not say that,” Bruce says before reaching over and snatching the magazine from your hands. His scrunched-up face only makes you laugh harder when he throws the magazine onto the floor.
“Oh come on, that was funny!” you say through giggles. But Bruce just rolls his eyes and goes back to work. At least you got a reaction out of him, you thought. You were desperate for his attention for two reasons: 1) Along with being his best friend for years, you also harboured a little tiny crush on the man and loved every second you got to spend with him and 2) You were bored.
You sigh before reaching down to pick up the magazine and continue reading it in silence. A moment later, you hear the elevator door ding and look up to see Alfred emerge.
“Hey Alfred,” you say with a smile, happy for new company.
“Hello Miss Y/N,” he says as he approaches you and Bruce. But of course, Bruce doesn’t glance up from his monitors. “I was wondering if you would be joining us for dinner this evening?”
“I’d love to, but I have plans,” you say with a sigh.
“Plans?” you hear Bruce say as he joins the conversation. He’s still staring at his screens. You narrow your eyes before turning back to Alfred.
“Yeah, I have a date.”
“A date?” Bruce says. He finally tears his eyes away to look at you with wide eyes. You feel suddenly on the spot. You didn’t really plan on bringing this up, not wanting an interrogation. Like this one.
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” you say, frustrated. Bruce blushes and directs his gaze to the floor. His jaw clenches. You give him an odd look he doesn’t see. Strange, you think, but decide to brush it off. “Yes, I have a date. Which I should go home and get ready for—”
“With who?” Bruce says just as you’re standing to leave. You hope this conversation will wrap up. You didn’t exactly want to talk to the guy you love about some date. But Bruce is looking at you again.
“A guy I met at work.” His name is James, and you hadn’t originally said yes. He had come by the café multiple times and each time asked you out. Not in an aggressive way, he backed down once you said no but he still asked every time he came, hoping for a different response. Yesterday when he asked you again, you actually thought about it. You hadn’t been on a date in a while thanks to a certain crush and it would hopefully take your mind off things. So you said yes, which took the man by surprise, but he eagerly arranged a date for tonight.
“So a complete stranger.” You huff, not understanding why Bruce is giving you such a hard time about this.
“Yes, that’s how dating works Bruce. You meet someone and get to know them and then—”
“I get it,” he says, looking away. You wonder what has gotten into him. Here you were, spending your whole afternoon with him while he barely said a word, and now suddenly he’s drilling you with 20 questions.
“Well, have fun,” Alfred says, and you’re grateful for his kind words breaking up your angry thoughts.
“Thank you, Alfred,” you stress, glaring over at Bruce. He’s still staring anywhere but at you yet hasn’t returned to his monitors. He seems angry and you don’t know why since you’re the one who’s angry. “I’ll see you later.” You smile at Alfred and quickly glance at Bruce who still isn’t looking your way. You roll your eyes before heading towards the elevator, already mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead.
†††
“Turns out, the photocopier was unplugged the whole time!” James says, laughing at his own story. You offer a polite laugh and drink back your wine. The two of you are seated in a fancy restaurant, James’ choice. With your budget, you would have been fine eating take-out. The walls are draped in red with intricate black designs swirling around the room. The lights are low and there’s a candle at every table (thankfully they’re fake). Jazz music emits from the speakers, low enough to have a conversation.
Frankly, you felt out of place. You had put on one of your nicer dresses and thank god you did. You hated that you had no idea where you were going before getting ready. Your tight red dress stops short just past your knees with a slit on the left side.
“So tell me,” James says as he leans on the table. “Do you work at the café full time?”
Normally you’re not too embarrassed by your job, but after he had described his super fancy office job, you start to feel nervous. “Yeah, it’s tough to find good work around here,” you say with a forced laugh. James laughs back.
“You’re telling me. Before this job, I worked at this small office and the cubicle space was ridiculous…” You nod along as he shows you how out of touch he is by comparing a small, cushy office space to working 12-hour shifts at a café. Your eyes move from him to the window beside your table. For some reason, you start to wonder what Bruce is up to right now before mentally kicking yourself for doing the opposite of getting over him. So you force yourself to keep up the conversation with James.
“So what’s your plan?” he asks you and you tilt your head in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I imagine you don’t want to be working at a café your whole life. So what’s your plan?” he asks. Though it’s true you want to find a better job, the way he asked that question was very condescending and you had to bite back a retort. What you want to say is “My plan is to ask my rich daddy to get me a job” but you don’t think he’ll appreciate the joke. Bruce would chuckle at my sarcastic remarks, if they weren’t aimed at him of course. God Y/N stop.
As you think of a way to answer the question and simultaneously keep your mind off of the billionaire, you look out the window once again. Sometimes Gotham can look really nice. Of course, you were in the nicer part of the city but it still gave you hope to see the nice skyline, quiet streets and…
Just as you’re about to turn back to James you spot something on the roof of the building across the street. You squint your eyes and you think you see two pointy ears against the sky. Just as soon as you see them, they’re gone. You’re too surprised to speak, your jaw dropping as you realize what you saw.
“What is it?” James asks, looking at where you’re staring. You quickly remember his presence and regain your composure.
“O-oh nothing, I thought I saw um...never mind,” you chuckle, as you fail to come up with a reasonable explanation. “Back to your question,” you say a bit loudly to pull his attention away from the window, which works. “My plan is to become a writer. I’ve applied to work at a few publishing agencies and soon I’ll be sending out some of my own work,” you say.
“That would be a hard job to find,” he chuckles, and again normally you would have laughed along but it seemed more like he was laughing at you than with you. “It might be time to start considering a real, more attainable job.”
You grip your silverware and wear a tight smile. “Yeah, you might be right,” you say, not wanting to cause a scene by stabbing him with your fork.
“I’d love to read your work sometime though,” he says with a smile. Not a chance, you think as you smile back. The dinner continues and you end up ordering the most expensive meal on the menu. You already know he’s going to insist he pays for the bill so you take advantage of that in compensation for his rude comments.
The whole time, you feel like you’re being watched. Of course, you know you’re being watched but every time you glance back at the roof there’s no sign of anyone. You’re now anxious to wrap the evening up to go investigate.
“Can we get the bill?” James asks.
“Of course,” the waiter says. “Would you like to split the bill?”
“No, dinner’s on me,” he sends a smile your way. You do the obligatory dance of offering to pay yourself and as expected, he reassures you it isn’t a big deal. You think he likes flashing his money.
The two of you walk outside the restaurant and over to where he’s parked his car. “Can I give you a ride home?” he asks.
“No thank you, I’d prefer to walk,” you say, already getting antsy to leave.
“Are you sure?” he gives you an incredulous look. “It’s not always safe walking the streets at night.”
“I can handle myself, trust me,” you say. And if I can’t, then I’m sure someone will swoop down to save me.
“Alright, I know when to give up,” he says. Then comes the part where you have to say goodbye and decide how to end the date. “I had a great time with you.”
“Yeah I did too,” you say. Other than his pretentious attitude, he was still one of your nicer dates. He had his kind and charming moments, and he is kind of cute. As your mind wanders over to the building across the way, an idea pops into your mind.
You take a step closer to James and notice his eyes flicker to your lips. “I-I’d really like to see you again,” he says, his confident nature faltering.
“I’ll think about it,” you say with a teasing smile. Then you step even closer to him and lean up. He meets you halfway and you kiss him. His hands grip your waist and yours rest on his shoulders, not wanting this to go too far. You pull away and he has a dumbstruck look on his face that almost causes you to laugh. He opens his eyes and looks at you in amazement.
“I-I’ll call you,” he says.
“Mmm. See you around,” you say with a smirk on your face, adding to the ambiguity of your response. You then turn around and start to walk away. You wait to hear his car start up and leave before your eyes seek the building.
You cross the street and find a fire escape on the side. You curse at your heels but still step onto the stairs. You climb them all the way to the top where you step onto the roof. It’s empty except for a chimney and an entrance onto the roof from inside.
You walk into the centre of the area. “I know you’re up here Batboy,” you call out. “The shadows can’t hide you forever.”
A moment passes before you see a figure emerge from behind the entrance, from a corner shaded in shadows. As expected, Batman comes into the light. You look at him with a scrutinizing gaze, waiting for him to say something.
You sigh before you say, “Aren’t you even going to try to explain what you’re doing?”
“I’m on a stakeout,” he responds in a register slightly lower than normal. Again, you wait on an elaboration and you receive none.
“And just what exactly are you staking out?” you ask, wanting him to say it.
You watch him realize there’s no getting out of this without the truth. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe,” he says, his eyes focused on the ground. You snort.
“Yeah right,” you say. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other than scold and yell at him, which you’re about to do before he speaks up.
“Why did you kiss him?” he asks, looking at you directly. You stutter, not expecting that question.
“So you were spying on me huh?” you say, even if you already knew he was. “And I can kiss whoever I damn well please thank you.”
“Please, you don’t even like the guy,” he says with frustration in his voice.
“Oh and now you’re seriously telling me how I feel? What makes you think you know me so well?” The conversation is escalating as your voices raise.
“Because I do know you. That guy was rude and arrogant--”
“You were listening to us?!” you almost yell, trying to be discreet but your feelings are getting the better of you.
“No I-I,” he struggles for an explanation before sighing. “I could read your lips.”
“I can’t believe this,” you say with your head in your hands. You look at him. “You’re actually spying on me.”
You see his hands clench. “I’m not spying—”
“This is the definition of spying Br-Batman!” you almost slip with his name, wanting to have a conversation with the man under the mask. You curse at this situation. “How the hell did you even know where I was going to be?”
He opens his mouth to respond before closing it again. A few moments pass before he quietly says, “I tracked you through your phone.”
You let the information settle in before you sigh heavily. “Bruce,” you hiss quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. You turn around with a hand on your head, trying to get a grip on this situation without your anger getting the best of you.
“I’m sorry but I-I had to.”
“Oh yeah sure. And why’s that?” you ask, still turned away from him.
There’s a silence before he says, “I-I just had to. I…You said you were going on a date and I just, I couldn’t just sit there. I mean, I—god.”
As you listen to Bruce struggle to express his feelings, a realization hits you. You almost don’t believe it but it adds up. You turn around to look at Batman physically struggling to get his words out.
“Wait, is this because you’re jealous?” He freezes his actions and looks at you with wide eyes. He opens his mouth and stutters but no words form. Though he’s wearing a mask, you can still tell he’s blushing.
“No no that’s not,” he laughs nervously. “That’s not what this is. I-I was just bored and I wanted to see—I missed—I just thought that you would be staying longer and I—”
During his ramblings, a smile blooms on your face. While he’s not looking at you, you approach him until you’re standing in front of him. You hear his breath hitch as his words tangle themselves up.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” His eyes are wide and it takes a moment for your words to process, but when they do he doesn’t hesitate. His lips crash down onto yours and you stumble back at the impact. You giggle into the kiss but don’t stop. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands travel across your back.
Eventually the two of you separate, out of breath. You can’t stop smiling and it seems like neither can Bruce. “If you wanted me, you just had to ask,” you say teasingly. “Then we wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble.”
Up close, you notice his blush under his mask and bite your lip as your smile stretches at the sight. “So this was all a ploy to get my attention huh?” he asks, also teasingly.
“No, it was a real date. But I may have hoped to make you a little jealous,” you admit, a blush of your own forming.
“Hmm,” he says grinning. “I just have one question.” You look up. “Who’s the better kisser?” You scoff and smack his shoulder lightly before wrapping your arms around him again.
“I don’t know, I think I’ll need to reassess,” you tease before kissing him again, this time slower and more intimate.
Before you’re done, he pulls away to say, “Wait does this mean you’re going to kiss him ag—” You pull him back into the kiss to stop his talking and he chuckles before returning his attention to your lips. And Bruce is definitely the better kisser.
#battinson x reader#battinson x you#battinson x y/n#the batman x reader#the batman x you#the batman x y/n#batman x reader#batman x you#batman x y/n#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x y/n#the batman#batman fanfiction#batman imagine#dc fanfiction#battinson
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𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅
ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴇʀᴏᴍᴇ ᴠᴀʟᴇsᴋᴀ x ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴊᴇʀᴏᴍᴇ ᴠᴀʟᴇsᴋᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇs ɪᴄᴇᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴇʀᴏᴍᴇ ᴀʟsᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴀʟʟᴇʏs ᴀɴᴅ (ʏ/ɴ) ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ. sᴏ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ, ᴅɪsᴛʀᴇssᴇᴅ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ғᴇʟʟᴀ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀʟʟᴇʏᴡᴀʏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ʜɪs "ᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ sʜɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴍᴏᴜʀ" sᴇɴsᴇs ᴋɪᴄᴋ ɪɴ.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʀᴀᴘᴇ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴄᴜʀsɪɴɢ
ᴀ/ɴ: ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ𝟹
Jerome Valeska loves ice cream. Not vanilla or strawberry, no he likes chocolate chip cookie and junky money. He doesn’t understand does who like flavors like mint or fucking yoghurt.
Something else Jerome loves, besides Bruce Wayne’s older siter of course, is to roam the streets of Gotham when it's dark outside. It's safer for him and probably for others as well, he just enjoys walking free, while the GCPD is looking for him. He even switched his typical attire to a more fitting one, walking around with a black hoodie covering his hair and face. In some cities this might seem a little suspicious, but not in Gotham. It would be more suspicious to walk around in a dress suit. If there is anything Jerome Valeska hates, then it's capitalists, fascists, alcohol and whores.
He is currently in midtown, walking in between the alleyway mazes and sidewalks that are dimly lit with street lanterns. He encounters dealers, some drunken druggies and snuggling teenagers, but the best thing is that they don't recognize him at all. Their drunk and drugged brains are not able to comprehend his scars, his hair and smug smile, as he passes them. It would be so easy, too easy to kill them one by one, but he won't. Tonight he won't kill, or so he thought. He just simply wants to escape the nuthouse for a while, smoke a cigarette or two and just wants his piece for a while. Arkham doesn't offer that, no, and if he could have just a few hours to himself, he wouldn't have to get into stressful situations every other day.
Jerome keeps walking mindlessly into the dark, as he hears something from a side alley, right to his left side. These are strangely familiar sounds; a groaning male voice and a pained whimpering female one. Jerome rolls his eyes, glancing into the dead ended alley where he sees something that shuts his brain down. He thought he would see another banging couple, but this is different.
Standing there with a tight, black and bitchy dress is (Y/N) Wayne, pressed against a cold brick stonewall. Jerome almost didn't recognize her; her hair is a mess, makeup is all over her face and her dress slightly ripped. Wayne's legs are spread and a man is placed between them, his hands moving under her skirt, his lips hungrily attacking hers. The man, or rather boy, is obviously enjoying himself pretty good, but little Miss Wayne? Not so much. Her eyes are teary and her hands try to pry his off of her. It's sad to look at, she must be really drunk. Jerome is thinking about just walking away, that stuck-up bitch would deserve a good lesson, but hot white rage keeps him there, as he takes out a switchblade from his pocket. Slowly he walks into the sidewalk, his black orbs delighted. He can’t just let her be raped; no men should touch her like that in the first place.
"My, my, what do we have here?" He giggles angrily and pulls the peasant boy away from the slightly crying Wayne and damn, she looks pretty with those teary (Y/E/C) eyes. She is clearly under shock, when Jerome steps her abuser down and keeps aggressively moving the switchblade in and out of his body.
"You. Do. Not. Touch her ever-" he groans and steps him into the neck, making blood spill all over his hands.
"-again." Jerome growls in a blissed rage and stands up again. Letting the knife fall to the asphalt with a dumb sound, as he breathes heavily and steps away from the young man. He doesn't move anymore.
"Oh my God." Escapes the girl beside him, her eyes wide in terror. She looks up to the red head as she pulls down the hem of her dress a little.
"You killed him!" Jerome groans annoyed and turns his body to her, looking her up and down. He shakes his head and leans himself against the wall with one hand, closing the scared bunny in, like a hungry wolf. His handprint leaves traces of blood on the wall.
"You know doll, a 'thank you' would be in store. Afterall I just saved you!" He grins, clearly pissed off by her ungrateful ass. She shakes her head in disbelief, trying to avoid the tears that stream down her reddened cheeks. She looks up at the maniac, whose hood is down now and reveals his fiery hair and facial scars. (Y/N) remembers the way he looked before his face was cut off and sewed back on. He was handsome, sweet looking. The scars just bring his insides to the outsides.
"How could you possibly know that I didn't actually enjoy this?" She cries out, not wanting to accept that fucking Jerome Valeska saved her and not wanting to admit to him that she was weak and in danger.
"Are you drunk sweets? Just asking, ‘cause you talk a lot of nonsense." His grin falters as he looks down her body, noticing scratches and blue marks all over her exposed skin. He licks his lips and looks into her scared eyes. It's silent between them, his eyes are roaming her shaking form, as he takes a closer step to her.
"I wonder why you would run around dressed like a whore. Where is good ‘ol Brucie to protect you?" He whispers and leans in, intimidating her as good as possible.
"He always liked to protect you from me." Jerome inhales her scent, as a pleased a sound escapes him.
"Bruce doesn't know that I'm here." She struggles to breath, as she closes her eyes, a panicked sound leaves her red and swollen lips.
"Figured." He giggles and takes her chin into his hands, hungrily hovering over her.
"Are you here to kill me?" She asks and opens her eyes again, looking into his lustful green ones.
"Ah no, but if I'm being honest, you really egg me on with that little dress of yours." He giggles disgustingly and stops as he sees that expression on her face.
"Naw, come on doll, I won't do anything inappropriate, pinky promise!" He moves his hand with his stretched-out finger to her face and keeps that sickening sweet smile upward. She doesn't take it though.
"Oh well, don't hate me if I steal a kiss or two from you tonight." He shrugs, obviously flirting with her.
(Y/N) Wayne hasn't really been the first option for him the past three years. He was eighteen when he met her for for the first time, she was fifteen. Too young, immature and the body of a child. Sure, she was sweet, but simply did not attract his urges. Last year on the other hand was different. He broke into hers and Bruce’s big house and crashed into her on the way to her brother. She was seventeen and looked pretty different. Her hair seemed so soft; her skin so clear. That big dough like eyes of hers, begged him to stop his murderous plans, and her body clearly changed as well. She wore a tight pullover and a short schoolgirl skirt, which showed off her figure perfectly to him. She's a fine piece of art. He remembers clearly that he felt vulgar tingles in his crotch, but didn't act on them. She was still underage after all.
Now she is a woman, still too young, but old enough to be taken by him. He probably won't though. Not in her current state, that would be too perverted, even for him.
"What do you want from me?" Her voice is small, her eyes disoriented, as she leans back, taking the wall as support to not fall over.
"Now that you ask…" He thrifts off and scratches the back of his head, laughing nervously.
"I didn't quite expect to see you here, so I didn't really plan on doing anything with you. Just maybe give me a few seconds? I'll make something up." He looks up, playfully tapping his finger onto his chin.
"Uh! I know." He jumps and grins widely.
"How about you lead me to your baby bro’s location, hugh?" Jerome snatches her by her hair and pulls her flatly against him, surprising and scaring her.
"Remember what happened in the mirror house? Yeah, I'd like some revenge!" He groans annoyed, thinking about what happened last year in the circus. Bruce pretty much punched him bloody.
"Oh, you won't get your revenge; fucker." (Y/N) throws her fist into his face and slaps him across the cheek, making him pull back surprised.
"Well babe, I must say-" he groans as she kicks him into his guts, making him stumble back a little, as she makes a run for it, her heels clapping on the wet street. She’s clearly too tipsy.
Jerome straightens up again and jumps her, tackling her down, so she wouldn't run from him. The rough asphalt scratches open her skin, and she has a hard time breathing, because of the added weight on her back. (Y/N) Wayne feels his hands on her waist, as he turns her onto her back underneath him, so she is forced to look him into the eyes. The man on top of her breathes heavily and makes sure that she doesn't run again.
"What happened to you, hugh? You behave like a bratty bitch, dress like this, get drunk!" Jerome is furious. His shaking hands grip the straps of her dress, pulling her closer to him.
"I always admired you, Wayne. Always loved the way you looked, how you dressed, how you behaved." He spits and reaches for the bloody switchblade beside him, taking it into his red hands.
"Please Jerome." The girl whimpers and grips onto his arm tightly. Sitting up she closes in the space between their faces. She knows what he wants and it's a dangerous game to play. "Just please." She whispers and leans in into his surprisingly warm body. Her grip on his arm even tightens, as she closes her eyes and simply moves her lips onto his, taking the ginger by surprise. He is not moving, not reacting, but as she tries to pull away, anxious, he stops her. Jerome himself leans in now, letting passion overcome his senses as he gets what he fantasized since about a year now. Her lips taste like honey and it makes him eager to go harder on her, but Jerome has other plans. He would love to just give in into the lust, but he just can't do it, considering that she doesn't even want to kiss him. She is faking, persuading him not to kill or hurt her. He would just need to prove her wrong. He slowly let's go of the strap off her stress, which was holding her upward and she sinks back to the floor, her hands still grabbing his arm. (Y/N) opens her eyes and shamefully investigates his, her lower lip shaking. When she notices the smug smile on his face and the knife in his hand it's already too late.
"Jerome-" a hitched breath escapes her, as moves the switchblade down to her dress, ripping it open with it.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She tries to lift herself away from him and kicks furiously around, which only cuts her right over her chest.
"Oh, doll! Look what you did!" Jerome giggles and closes his hand around her neck.
"You just cut yourself." He taunts and presses a kiss onto her burning wound, smearing a little blood over his lips in the process.
"Why would you do that?" The girl whines and hugs herself, so he won't be able to see her exposed breasts. Shaking his head, Jerome takes a step back and looks down onto his open present.
"To let your brother know, that he should fucking take care of you." The ginger grunts and licks his tongue over his scarred lips. He pulls the black hood back over his head, as he grouches down beside (Y/N) again, to take her phone out of her purse. He forces her to unlock it, which she hesitantly does and starts to search her contacts to find Bruce.
The maniac presses the phone onto his ear and grins brightly when he hears the sleep driven voice of Brucie.
"(Y/N)? Are you alright." The young billionaire asks on the other line concerned.
"I wouldn't say alright. She's definitely been better." Jerome giggles and gestures to the girl to be silent with his hand. Bruce is doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he asks in a steady voice: "Where is she, Jerome?" Wayne is definitely furious.
"67th Melan-Alley in Diamond District. Be quick Brucie, before someone else ravishes her." Valeska hangs up the phone and let's it crash to the ground, it's display breaking. He stretches himself and lets his bones crack when he turns his back to her.
"Well it was nice to meet you again, my love. You'll hear from me soon." He promises and walks down the dark alleyway, leaving (Y/N) Wayne distressed, with a ripped dress and a dead body shaking in the dark. What a real gentleman.
#jerome valeska#gotham#dc#cameronmonaghan#joker#jerome valeska x you#jerome valeska x reader#bruce wayne#oneshot#warning in description
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Blackout - Part 3
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: There’s nothing to test a relationship more than a traumatic brain injury…
Warnings: Violence, blood
Word count: 3130
Part 2
AN: Made my day to hear how excited y’all were for this part! Hope it doesn’t disappoint. 😉
Ultron’s location is tracked to South Africa, where the Avengers believe he is trying to meet a dealer to buy the indestructible alloy, vibranium, from. After throwing together a hasty plan, the Avengers fly over and split up on Ulysses Klaue’s ship. Steve, Tony, and Thor go to confront Ultron and his two enhanced bodyguards, identified as the Maximoff twins.
The male, Pietro, is believed to be the same person who Clint met on the previous visit to Sokovia. He possesses the ability of superhuman speed, while his younger sister, Wanda, possesses a range of energy manipulation.
Clint takes position from a vantage point, while you and Natasha hover on the floor above the others. Bruce stays with the Quinjet; given Wanda’s mind manipulation powers, they don’t want to risk her getting anywhere near him.
Ultron initiates the fight, taking on Tony while he sicks his drone henchmen on Steve and Thor. Pietro disappears into a gray blur and the gunshots that echo through the cramped hallways indicate Klaue’s men have engaged in the fight.
When you see the orange muzzle fire flash in the distance, you drop to your stomach and roll behind the safety of a wall. Meanwhile, Natasha takes on three full grown men at once, the blue piping in her uniform the only thing you see as she flips them over and knocks them out with ease.
For someone with no supernatural powers, she’s certainly a force to be reckoned with. You’re beginning to see what you liked about her.
The floor shakes as a stack of Klaue’s men parade down the hallway and you pull yourself into a crouching position. The moment you see a dull-toed boot, you leap out of your hiding spot. The men scream in surprise, mindlessly firing their assault rifles. You grab the barrel of one to push the muzzle towards the floor, the hot metal melting your palm.
You rip your skin off to free your hand and you tip the man over the railing. Clint, perched on his balcony, launches a few arrows into the backs of Klaue’s men and they tumble forward like dominos. The last conscious one is sandwiched between his fallen comrade and you; he drops his gun and raises his arms in submission. You take him out with a single punch to his head.
Your skin itches as it grows back and you flex your hand in annoyance. Tony and Ultron have disappeared off the ship and you run back to the area you last saw Natasha.
“Thor, status?” you hear Steve ask the god of thunder.
“The girl tried to warp my mind. Take special care, I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I am mighty…” He trails off suspiciously.
“Thor? Thor?” Steve repeats.
You sneak up behind one of Klaue’s men, putting a hand on each of his shoulders and pushing him down. His knees buckle under your weight and you bash his head against the wall.
Natasha spins around, aiming her glowing blue bracelet at your face.
“Hey, hey, it’s just me,” you say, not wanting to get electrocuted.
“How many are left?” she pants, lowering her arm.
“Hopefully not a lot,” you respond. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am.” But she’s touched by your concern for her.
“Everyone, stay alert—” Steve says, before cutting himself off.
You glance at Natasha and she seems to read your mind. If this Wanda girl took down a god and a super soldier, there wasn’t much different in your skill set or Natasha’s that you could use against her. Natasha turns to stand back-to-back with you, and the direct contact is strangely comforting.
“Clint, you there?” Natasha asks through her microphone.
“I’m all good.”
“Steve? Thor?”
No response.
“Tony?”
Nothing.
“Clint, where are you? We need to regroup,” Natasha says, and you feel her move away from you, so you start walking backwards to keep up. All your senses are on high alert. A threat the Avengers couldn’t even handle spells disaster for the rest of the general population.
“I’m up one floor from you two,” Clint says. “Do you want me to come down, or—”
“No, we’ll come up. We’ll be better off on the higher ground,” Natasha says.
You turn and follow Natasha so closely you’re almost stepping on her heels. “No rush,” you say, wishing you could be in front of her in case Wanda pops out and attacks. After all, you are a little more durable than she is.
As Natasha turns the corner to enter the stairwell, she suddenly freezes mid-step. You spring into action, jumping around her only to see Wanda Maximoff crouched behind the wall, red wisps of smoke twisting around her fingertips.
You pull your arm back to punch her in the face, but the red smoke trails up your arm and suddenly you can’t move. Your muscles tremble from trying to fight the invisible force and in the corner of your eye you see Natasha stumble back, falling to the floor.
Wanda comes up to you, studying your face. She recognizes you from the house in Sokovia, and she’s surprised to see that you’re still alive. She pushes her finger against your temple and your eyes roll back. You crumple into a heap.
You find yourself kneeling before a ten-year-old girl, your arms raised in submission. She points a gun at you like an executioner. Through the glass-less window behind the girl, you see Wanda Maximoff. A trail of red smoke sprouts from Wanda’s fingertips and surrounds the girl’s head.
The girl’s eyes glow red. Wanda curls her own finger like she would around the trigger of a gun, and the girl copies her movement exactly.
The bullet that comes out is wrapped in red smoke. Hot pain burns in the center of your forehead, like a searing poker thrust through your skull. The force snaps your head back and you fall into darkness.
***********************************************************************
When you come to, you find yourself sitting in the back of the Quinjet. Natasha is next to you, resting her head on your shoulder. You reach up and feel your forehead, sighing when you realize it’s intact. Phantom pain throbs in your temples like a ping pong ball bouncing around your skull.
Bruce is curled up on the floor, his face buried in a sweat-soaked blanket. Tony hunches over in a seat, scratches and dirt covering his face and arms. Thor paces anxiously, while Steve cracks his knuckles and stares at the floor.
Clint is the only one who seems relatively normal, sitting in the cockpit alone.
“Where are we going?” you croak, your throat dry and painful.
“Somewhere safe,” he says.
You look towards Natasha, but her eyes are closed. You assess her for any visible damage, but she looks the same as she did before you two ran into Wanda. Admittedly, you’re a little shaken from what Wanda did to your head, and you wonder if she showed Natasha a similar vision. You let her sleep on you, trying to move as little as possible.
Eventually, Clint lands the Quinjet outside of a country home. He helps Natasha out and you notice that she can barely walk. Concern builds in the pit of your stomach—did she have an internal injury? What had Wanda done to her?
“Let me help,” you say to Clint, but he waves you away. Natasha gives no sign she even noticed your attempt to help. Frustrated, you fall back to the rear and follow the men to the house.
You feel so out of place you want to scream. You hate that even though you’ve supposedly been an Avenger since the team’s inception, your own teammates don’t trust you. You hate being limited by your memory loss, and now you can’t even be there to help your (former?) girlfriend. You hate how helpless you are.
“Honey, I’m home!” Clint announces as all of you walk through the unlocked front door. A pretty, brown-haired woman comes out to meet you. Clint introduces everyone to the woman—his wife, Laura—whom apparently none of the Avengers (except you and Natasha) knew about.
Laura hugs you like an old friend, but you’re not sure if Clint told her about your condition, so you limit your conversation with her. Thor leaves soon after the introductions, and Laura pairs everyone up and sends them away to the guest rooms. Naturally, you’re placed with Natasha, but you don’t complain as you help her up the stairs.
You let her shower first and sit on the bed while you wait, peeling off your sweaty uniform and awkwardly sitting there half-naked when you realize you have nothing else to put on. You cup your head in your hands and let out a long sigh. You replay the vision Wanda made you see in your head, but you’re not sure it means.
Was it a prediction of the future, or something that had happened in the past? Or just something to throw off your mental state? Because it was working. A shudder runs up your skull when you recall the moment the girl shot you, and you swear you can feel the echo of pain in your skull. It feels too real, like it actually did happen. But you have no such memory of something like that happening...unless...?
You don’t have time to think about it further because Natasha comes in, wrapped in a towel, wet hair dripping down her back.
“Hey,” she says.
“How are you feeling?” you ask. You see her eyes trace over your exposed arms and chest. A smile tugs at your lips and you clear your throat.
“Oh! Uh—” Her face reddens when she realizes you caught her staring. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Eh.” She shrugs and sits down next to you. “How are you?”
“Eh,” you repeat. “You, uh…You’re looking a little better, at least. You didn’t look so good back there on the Quinjet.”
“The Maximoff girl…” Natasha pauses, inhaling sharply. “When she played her little mind spell on me, I saw myself back in the Red Room…” Her voice breaks and she bows her head.
You have no idea what the Red Room is or what happened to her there, but you can tell it holds some kind of great significance to her. You know she must have told you about it before, but you just can’t remember. Anger simmers in your stomach and you draw your hands into fists.
Why did this have to happen? What did you—and Natasha do—to deserve this? It was so unfair. Life had already been so unkind to both of you. Would you ever find your happy ending?
Natasha misreads your frustrated expression for confusion and says, “The Red Room…it’s my past—”
“Yes, the one I should already know about, right?” Your annoyance of how she expects you to remember things, when you’ve told her a thousand times you don’t, finally catches up to you. You jump off the bed and pace the small bedroom anxiously.
“I’m not mad at you for not remembering,” Natasha says, trying to calm you down.
“Well, I am,” you snap. Your fingernails curl into your palms until you draw blood, but you don’t care. “I don’t know how many times you want me to apologize for forgetting. I’m sorry, okay?”
“Y/N!” Natasha stands and grabs onto your arm. She’s shocked to hear you talk to her in such a way, but she can’t blame you. None of this was your fault, yet the blame is thrust on you because it’s easier. You couldn’t even fight back anyway, since you’re the one that didn’t remember anything. They could feed you whatever stories they wanted and you had no choice but to take their word as the truth.
“I see the way you look at me—with pity in your eyes. The way the others walk around me—like they don’t know if they can trust me or not,” you say, pulling your arm out of her grasp.
“I’m sick of it. I literally woke up from a two-year coma and everyone expects me to know what I missed. Everyone expects me to fall back into place and pick up right where we left off. You included. And I’m sorry I can’t do that, Nat. I’m sorry I forgot what we used to have.”
You take a deep breath, not realizing how hard your chest is heaving. You can’t even look at her, your face hot and eyes burning with unshed tears.
“No, no, you’re totally right, and I should be the one apologizing,” Natasha says. “I’ve been the selfish one for only caring about you getting your memory back so you remember our relationship. And that’s not fair to you,” she continues, stepping so close to you, you can feel her breath against your collarbone.
“But I’m scared. Every day, I feel you slipping away from me, and I…” She hiccups. “I don’t want to lose you. It was always supposed to be us against the world, because you’re my person…” Natasha breaks down, and you’re surprised you didn’t crack before her.
Seeing her cry does something to you. The famous Black Widow, known for her ruthless kills, hides her face in her hands, clearly ashamed to show you her vulnerable side. Knowing that you’re partly responsible for it, you act without thinking, wrapping your arms around her in a hug, holding her against your body tightly.
Instantly, she relaxes into the heat of your skin, pressing her wet cheek to your chest and closing her eyes. You rest your chin against her forehead and feel her arms squeeze around your torso gently.
You’re not sure how long you stay like that, but you let her pull away first. When she looks up at you, something stirs in the pit of your stomach. Her hand comes up to rest under your jaw and she rubs her thumb over your bottom lip.
“I miss you and I love you,” she says. “I just wish you would love me again.”
It’s unfair for her to put that kind of pressure on you and Natasha knows it, but she’s past caring.
And it’s not that you don’t love her. It’s just that you can’t reciprocate with the same intensity. She’s had two years to get to know and love you. You’ve barely known her a week with this new brain.
“How do I get you to love me back?” Her hand trails down your chest and stomach, but you stop her before she reaches your hipline. Your mouth feels dry and your skin burns where she’s touched you.
“Maybe we need to stop worrying about remembering the old memories and start making some new ones,” you suggest.
Her lips turn into a smile and she stretches up on her toes to reach your mouth—
KNOCK, KNOCK.
“Hey, it’s me! Can I come in?” Clint hollers from the other side of the door.
Both of you jump back from each other, startled. As you scramble for the door, Natasha throws herself back on the bed, adjusting the fit of her towel.
You swing the door open with too much enthusiasm and almost hit yourself in the face. “Hello, Clint.”
“Hey—I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Clint sees Natasha in a towel and you half-naked and smirks.
“No, I was about to jump into the shower,” you correct, although blush creeps up your cheeks. “What’s up?” You beckon him in before his children see you and close the door behind him.
“Sorry about the room arrangements,” he says. “We’ve been so busy, I didn’t have the chance to give Laura a heads-up—”
“It’s fine,” you say.
“How are you two holding up?” Clint asks, leaning against the door as you awkwardly go to stand by the bed. You avoid eye contact with Natasha. “I just got done talking with the guys.”
“We’re…okay,” you answer. Maybe even a little bit better than okay? You’re not even sure what just happened between the two of you, to tell the truth. “I mean…” You don’t want to speak for Natasha. “I’m no different than I was.”
“What did Wanda show you?” Clint doesn’t try to beat around the bush.
“Uh, it was pretty weird vision,” you say. “I was kneeling on the floor inside a house and this little girl—she couldn’t have been older than ten—stood in front of me with a gun—”
Natasha inhales sharply, but you ignore her.
“And then I saw Wanda outside the window, manipulating the girl into pulling the trigger. The bullet hit me right here.” You push your finger into the center of your forehead.
“Oh, my God,” Natasha whispers.
“What?”
“That’s not a vision. That’s a memory,” she says.
“Memory?” you say, slow on the uptake. “Well, I’ve never met Wanda before, and I’ve never been shot in the head by a kid, so—”
“Yes, you were,” Natasha insists. “We were all on a mission in Sokovia. Clint got hurt, so you helped me take him to what we thought was an abandoned house for cover. You found this little girl in one of the other rooms and she—well, technically Wanda—shot you. But your body didn’t heal right away, and after they removed the bullet in surgery, you couldn’t remember anything of the last two years.”
“Oh.”
So, Wanda had been the one responsible for all this. It was her interference that caused you to get shot and lose your memory. If you had a chance to go round two (or technically three?) with her, you would make her regret ever thinking she could mess with you.
“We really can’t underestimate her now,” Clint comments. “She literally pulled you all apart like cotton candy.”
“You seem to have walked away,” you say.
“Yeah, well, I’m not really a fan of the whole mind control thing.”
“Didn’t think it was a choice.” You glare at Clint until he uncomfortably shifts his gaze away.
“There was definitely a trend with the things Wanda showed you though,” he says. “Steve told me he saw the dance he never got to attend with his girl, Tony saw the fall of the Avengers—”
“I saw the Red Room,” Natasha supplies.
“And I apparently relived getting shot in the head,” you say.
“Everyone’s worst nightmares,” Clint concludes somberly.
“Okay, I don’t know if getting shot in the head is my worst nightmare,” you scoff, wanting to present yourself as tougher than that. Although getting shot was an unpleasant experience, it wasn’t the worst thing you’ve ever been through.
“Maybe not,” Clint says, “But forgetting about Natasha is.”
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Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxx @supersourlemon13 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @a-grinch @shanmik @username23345 @d14n4ol @whitelotus00 @happylittle-dillpickle-12 @milfloverslut @the-empty-chxld @m-zne237 @ssa-shaylam @ifeeluncomfortableallthetime @mjaudrey @jazromanoff @ryunniez @007giu @wandaslittlewhore @ymzki-haruki @ki33es @fayhar @kyalinsworld
Click here for Part 4!
AN: BRB while I go sob into my pillow. This got way angstier than I expected, sorry. Poor Nat and R. 🥺 I really hope they get their happy ending—
#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#black widow fanfiction#natasha romanoff#black widow#marvel imagine
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bruce wayne week day 2: gala
rated T, no archive warnings apply, tagged: past bruce wayne/harvey dent, implied/referenced violence, brief suicide mention
how was it, bruce thought to himself, that he could withstand torture both physcial and mental without any lasting damage, but the one thing that had him trembling and ready to crawl out of his own skin was an itchy suit?
he’d grown out of them, was the thing. when he was young, alfred had ensured that he’d always dressed properly for any occasion, be that a wedding or charity event or board meeting. before that, his parents—well. they had made sure bruce was presentable enough for their friends to pinch bruce's cheeks instead of awkwardly patting his shoulder.
but now, newly returned to gotham with a thousand new scars and a hardened grip, bruce realized he had lost his tolerance for finely pressed and ironed fabric. none of his old suits had come remotely close to fitting him, and alfred had manhandled him in front of a mirror to take measurements, sending them off to his favourite tailor. bruce thought he'd cried out all the tears his body had left to give the day he came home, hugging alfred's frail body far too tight, but his eyes still managed to get all hot and uncomfortable when alfred's fingers hesitantly mapped the broad expanse of his shoulders, trying so hard to ignore the slashes, the stabs, the burn marks, the brands.
his shoes were too loose, the pointed style apparently a new trend in the gotham elite. bruce and alfred had worked on a pair of dress shoes together, ones that wouldn't fall off the minute bruce moved at anything more intense than a brisk walk, but bruce still longed for the comfort of his thick-soled boots.
those same shoes were tapping on the ground, making far too much noise, but bruce forced himself to take a breath and let the flower-scented artificial spray calm him down. logically, it made no sense at all, but bruce had always placed gotham on pause in his mind. he'd expected to come back older and harder and fiercer to find gotham exactly the same, waiting patiently just for him.
instead, bella revero had cut her hair and dyed it blonde, and was wearing a long, flowing, glittering pantsuit instead of a long, flowing, glittering gown. tom thompson's hair was a healthy salt and pepper when bruce left, but now the man was two tufts away from being completely bald. thicky-applied makeup somehow accentuated wrinkles instead of hiding them, no manner of well-cut suits could hide a growing potbelly, none of the waiters that had given bruce snacks and orange juice were working anymore, and most everyone bruce remembered being roughly his age had moved far, far away from this wretched hole of a city.
there were times when bruce slapped himself upside the head for the absolutely moronic decision to come back to gotham and announce ta-daaa! not dead! he should have just been batman and let bruce wayne's useless name and dishonored legacy be swallowed up by gotham.
footsteps behind him. bruce had tuned out most of his training, knowing that it would only hinder him as brucie wayne, only make him look suspicious. but he'd kept a basic background awareness, unable to turn that off, and these thuds were heading right for him. bruce tensed, his false smile probably turning brittle, two seconds away from whirling around and grabbing his attacker's arm so hard, the bone would shatter.
a heavy hand slammed down onto his shoulder, but right before bruce made a move, a voice spoke right next to his ear, smooth and low and capable of making his entire body relax without any input from him whatsoever.
"what the actual hell are you doing here, you motherfucker?"
"harvey," bruce sighed, turning around to give the man a relieved smile. "thank god. i thought i'd have to go through this all by myself. you didn't tell me you were coming?"
harvey's mouth pulled into a painful grin, one that didn't look the least bit friendly, and there was a bulging vein on his temple, a nervous tick that bruce knew he didn't have before.
"you alright there, harv? you're looking a little—," bruce gestured vaguely to harvey's face, "—red."
harvey's grip on bruce's shoulder tightened, fingers digging into muscle and sending painful twinges up bruce's shoulder, and bruce tried not to show his surprise. he was two seconds from shoving off harvey's hand himself, but just decided to grit and bear it. harvey wouldn't ever hurt him.
"you have been gone," harvey said, enunciating every word, "for years. i didn't know where you were. i didn't know if you were ever coming back. then i hear that you're home from a goddamn newspaper, and you just showed up to this party without telling anyone."
"i was on the guest list," bruce pointed out, automatically putting up a simplified version of his brucie wayne facade. he widened his eyes, putting a little cluelessness into the fluttering of his eyelashes, just enough to keep his cover in case anyone was recording him, just enough so harvey believes him.
"what the fuck are you doing with your eyes," harvey said flatly.
so apparently harvey knew him better than he thought.
"look, harv, i was gonna call you, i really was—"
"i thought you were dead," harvey hissed, and his best friends eyes have more lines on them than bruce remembered and he doesn't have to tip his head up just to see harvey laugh anymore and there's too much broken love in harvey's voice for them to be standing in between a gilded trash can and a spiked bowl of punch.
"harvey,,," bruce started, not knowing exactly where to go from there. he'd taught himself to prepare for any possible attack, any possible conspiracy or unmasking or targeted hit, but he'd completely forgot about his own friend. he'd forgotten he had a friend.
luckily or unluckily, harvey interrupted him before he had the chance to fumble his words. "i thought you were dead, i thought my best friend had finally fucking followed through with what i tried so hard for years to stop."
it hit bruce like a punch to the gut. he wasn't aware harvey had ever been trying.
"and now,,, what? you're just fine? you're dressed like a poser and your hair's all neat and trimmed and you're smiling at people like the only thing you care about is getting into their pants. plus, that's the fourth glass you've had tonight."
"we're already an hour in," bruce replied automatically.
"we're only an hour in," harvey said.
there was a pause. not an uncomfortable one, because it had been years since him and harvey were ever uncomfortable with each other. it was like harvey couldn't decide whether or not to reach out and strangle bruce for worrying him or break down for hurting him or hug him for coming back home.
bruce couldn't tell him. harvey worked too closely with commissioner gordon; daring bruce to steal mary jane from the principal's stash and shotgunning it out of his mouth was leagues away from keeping the secret that bruce was a dangerous, trained vigilante from everyone he knew.
"it's okay, harvey," bruce said, his voice completely sincere for the first time this night. "i found other ways to cope."
"i don't like those other ways," harvey sneered, eyes the glass in bruce's hand.
"other ways," bruce said. "you don't have to worry. i'm fine."
the photographer for the gotham gazette had snapped a picture of him entering, and no one would notice if he left now. bruce wayne couldn't be beating up pedophiles in the narrows if bruce wayne was getting drunk at a high-class gala. he'd planned to leave three hours in, a respectable amount of time, but meeting harvey had thrown him off balance.
he brushed past harvey, heading towards the butler's exit in the back of the ballroom. "enjoy the party!" he called behind him as he left, eyes wide again, clueless and fluttering and oh-so blind to the devastated way harvey watched him leave.
tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @catxsnow @pricetagofficial @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer @buticaaba @brucewayneweek
#brucewayneweek2021#scribbles from the swamp#bruce wayne#batman#harvey dent#two-face#what's their ship name what's their ship name fuck#bruharvey#twobats#i've heard both i'll just use both idkkk#dc#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne headcanon#batman fic#batman headcanon#harvey dent fic#harvey dent headcanon#two-face fic#two-face headcanon#bruharvey fic#bruharvey headcanon#twobats fic#twobats headcanon#dc fic#dc headcanon
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Jason Todd x Reader - “In The Pale Moonlight”
After a one night stand, Jason doesn’t seem to be able to get his mind off you. Desperate to get you out of his head, he hesitantly agrees to go to Wayne Enterprise with his brothers for work, as a response to scrutiny from the general public. What happens when the person he was trying to erase from his memory pops right back into his life?
Requested by anon and on Wattpad: “Can I request one where reader and one of the boys are dating but they act like they still trying to get each other so they flirt a lot and stuff even if everyone knows they’re together”/
“And other one where the reader is feeling herself and singing “Meet me in the pale moonlight” by Lana Del Rey in front of one of batboys and they’re like wow she cute and kiss the readeeeeeer (they’re dating and they’re teenagers)THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU 💕” /
“haha well I have another which was that the reader is harley and Bruce's kid and she meets batboys but jason since she knew before she left for the first time since she was away for wayne industries business meetings”
A/N: I hope you guys don’t mind that I tweaked it a little since these requests don’t have alot of depth individually!
“I’m just here for a drink.” the girl smiled politely even though she was extremely uncomfortable.
“I am too, can I have it with you?”
“Oh for crying out loud leave her alone, don’t be such a creep.” The man at the end of the counter groaned.
“Mind your business.” the creep gritted his teeth.
“Your disgusting aura is polluting my drink so it makes it my business.” (Y/N) watched as he stood up and walked towards the pair. Now that he was closer, the woman could see how attractive he was up close, stunning eyes, sharp jaw, tall and a streak of dyed white hair, “Fuck off will you?”
“Who do you think you are?”
“Sorry, I forgot a world, fuck off please.” The stranger shot the man a terrifying glare and without another word, the man studded away, like a dog with its tail between his legs.
“Thank you mister, but if he laid a hand on me I would have sucker punched him.”
“Mister huh?” he smirked, sitting beside her.
“Well what’s your name then?”
“Jason, pleasure to meet you.”
****
“This is your place?” she hummed, fingers running through his soft hair as his lips trailed down her neck, pulling her legs around his hips.
“Mmh hmm,”
“You rich or something?” the woman breathed out as he sucked on her skin.
“Something like that,” he murmured, pulling away to tease her lips with his. Jason stared deeply into her eyes.
“What are you waiting for, lover boy? You brought me here.” (Y/N)’s arms hung loosely on his shoulders, occasionally touching the back of his head.
“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, hooking his hands under her legs and carrying her to his bedroom.
****
Glancing at her side to the soft breathing of the naked man beside her, she shuffled, stretching and yawning. What a night, she tried moving her legs but winced, what a night indeed.
“Good morning princess,” his morning voice was incredibly attractive as his arm slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
“Mmh, good morning,” the woman squirmed in his grip as he nipped at her ear teasingly with his teeth, “what time is it?”
“You have someplace to be?” he murmured, hand caressing her naked hip.
“Yeah, I have work.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Self employed.”
“Nice!”
****
A month or so later, Jason was frustratedly sitting in the meeting room, chewing on his lip in boredom as Bruce brought all of them to a meeting at Wayne Enterprise for less scrutiny from the public eye.
“The person we will be working on for the new design is going to arrive soon so I need you all on your best behaviour.” He glared at all the boys.
“Yeah yeah, can we just get on with it so I can leave?” The second oldest rolled his eyes.
“Mr Wayne?” as if on queue, the person knocked on the one-way privacy film that covered every window of the room, the blurred figure waiting patiently on the other side.
With a last scolding glance to everyone, Bruce strutted over, opening the door and smiling.
“Good morning Mr Wayne.” the woman greeted with a polite smile.
Jason’s eyes widened, and stayed that way even when he made eye contact with the girl. She responded with the same reaction, but quickly regained her composure and greeted the other boys.
“Oh hey (Y/N),” Dick waved to his roommate, “you look great.” He flirted.
“...Um hey,” she greeted hesitantly, feeling a little uncomfortable with his usual ways in the professional setting.
“Shall we get down to business.” Bruce glared at his eldest son.
****
“You don’t have to act so grumpy.” Jason rolled his eyes as they finally arrived at their hotel in Europe after an excruciatingly long flight.
“I’m tired, I need sleep.” Not wanting to address the elephant in the room, especially when she was this exhausted, she scurried to the bathroom to slip into comfortable pyjamas and landed right into bed, “I’m having this conversation tomorrow, good night.”
The next day came quickly and (Y/N) opened her eyes reluctantly, wanting to melt in the comfortable double bed she was in. Discreetly, she peeked at the double bed facing her diagonally.
The woman frowned, it was empty.
“I’m right here.” the man voiced from behind her as he exited the bathroom.
“Jason!” she screeched, “what the hell! Don’t creep up on people!”
“Well don’t try to spy on people when they are sleeping!” he threw his damp towel to her.
“Ewwwww!” she grimaced.
“Chill, I was drying my hair with that.” he walked towards his bed, and she only now noticed that he was naked -- with a towel around his waist obviously. Steam was emitting from his skin as it glistened still.
With warm ears, she pulled the covers over her face, eyes peeking out discreetly.
“We’ve seen each other completely naked, I don’t see what the problem is, if you’re going to look, be shameless,” he moved his butt from left to right teasingly, “you can see this regularly if you want,” he chuckled.
With a sigh, she buried herself under the covers.
“I haven’t changed my mind Jason, I’m sorry, I’m not interested in commitment at the moment.”
She felt a weight on the bed and hesitantly took a peep out. Jason was laying on her bed, shirtless but with some underwear on.
“At least give me the benefit of the doubt for this trip.” he gave her the puppy eyes. Eying him suspiciously, she sighed.
“Alright, fine, don’t disappoint.”
****
A few months or so later into the relationship with Jason and gotten closer to his younger brothers, (Y/N) slipped on a comfortable T-shirt, watching herself in the mirror as she tidied her hair a bit and examined the hickey on her neck.
Swaying lightly from side to side to the song that was stuck in her head, she hummed softly to herself, setting out her clothes for the day.
“You don't have to give me anything
Just put your sweet kiss kiss on my lips now baby”
Walking back to the mirror, deciding on whether or not jewelry was necessary, the woman continued.
“Think about you almost all the time, all the time and-”
“I love you so much baby,” he breathed out from the other side of the room.
“Hmm?” she glanced in the mirror.
“Keep singing~”
“No,” she stuck her tongue out playfully, “are you ready?”
“Do we have to go?” Jason whined, marching up to her, slapping her ass and squeezing it before hugging her from behind, nuzzling her hair, his warm skin against her.
“Baby of course we do, we have to hide the fact that we’re together, plus they are fun, we’re all friends here.” she rubbed her butt against his hips and he bit her ear.
“No teasing,” he whispered in her ear, turning her around and pushing her against the dresser, “or else.”
“Or else?” the woman chuckled, “but seriously though,” her hands cupped his cheeks as he stared at her lips, “we can’t act like a couple, it’s unprofessional,”
“Technically I don’t work at the company,”
“And the person I’m working with is your dad.”
“Adoptive, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Just a coffee, maybe a lunch, and then we can come straight home.”
“Mmh, okay,” he pouted, holding her tightly as she kissed his lips and pulled away. “You sing beautifully, please do it more for me.” he pouted. She chuckled, shaking her head slightly in embarrassment.
“Put a shirt on and let’s get ready, I don’t want to be late!” (Y/N) ushered, “and the sooner you’re out of here, the less anxious I’ll be that your brother unexpectedly enters his own home and sees you in it.”
When they were ready, at a somewhat reasonable time, they drove there as quickly and responsibly as possible.
“Why is your hand still on my thigh?!” (Y/N) jumped once she realised he had discreetly snaked his hand back on her thigh when he was parking the car on the side of the road, in a surprising proximity. Slapping his hand away and giving him a look, the woman slipped out of the car and walked up the stairs, ringing on the bell.
Jason scurried up beside her, slapping her butt playfully before pushing the door open.
“Hey guys!” she grinned, not having the time to scold her boyfriend once again as she was greeted with welcoming smiles.
“How have you been?” Dick teased, having seen her just yesterday.
After playful banter, and not-so-playful for the brothers, over a nice hot drink, a new topic came up.
“How was the party yesterday (Y/N)?” Jason inquired, knowing fully well about it but trying to seem inconspicuous, “I hope no one stole your heart, that’s for me!” … or not.
She paused, giving him an unimpressed look, reluctant to answer “It was great, and no.”
“No what?” he smirked. Her cheeks burned, she did not like being put on the spot to lie, especially since this was incredibly unnecessary.
“No one did anything.”
“To who-”
“This is embarrassing, we know you two are a couple,” Damian nearly gagged.
“Huh?” (Y/N) turned to him, feeling her soul leave her body.
“How do you know?” Jason looked at him.
“It’s been a while.” Dick chuckled.
“We been knew 💅,” Tim rolled his eyes.
“Someone left someone’s underwear in an awkwardly obvious place when I came around… and you slapped her butt before you came in here, everyone saw it.” Dick explained, watching his brother.
“OH MY GOD, JASON!”
“I didn’t- wait, how do you know that it’s her underwear???”
The eldest’s expression fell and he blushed.
“I might have um-”
“He accidentally came in when I was packing my bag to leave for the business meeting in France okay?” the woman spluttered.
“You did WHAT?”
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Summary: You are forced to go on a mission with Bucky, someone you don’t really get along with. What happens when hydra men get their hands on you?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, drinking, mentions of drugging, references to rape, angst
Well this was longer than I intended. I maaaay write a smutty part 2 if enough people like this, but I hope you firstly just enjoy this little thing I thought of. Love you x
‘You have got to be fucking kidding me’ you groan as you open the suit door to reveal a beautiful room of crimson and black, the intoxicatingly sweet scent of roses wafting through the air. You narrow your eyes, taking in the black marble bathtub, the double shower heads, the ornate fireplace and finally - the source of your anger - the king sized double bed, a bed frame delicately covered in carvings of flowers, dusted in a fading gold.
‘I’m calling Tony’ you seethed, a bratty undertone to your voice as you direct it at the man stood at the doorway, noticing a subtle eye roll adorn his face. The phone rings as you pace around the room, heavy footsteps cushioned by the soft carpet beneath you. Meanwhile Bucky moved to place your bags down on the dresser beneath the window, getting one of the straps caught between the plates on his arm, cursing under his breath as he begins to aggressively pull and twist.
Unsurprisingly, the phone continues to ring until you hear a voice from the other end say ‘Tony Stark is unavailable right now, please leave a message after the bee...’, before angrily pressing the red button on your phone to hang up. ‘Fuck. I am not sharing a bed with you, Barnes. I already hate you enough, no need to make it worse’ you warn him as you toss your phone onto the bed and run your fingers through your hair, a small action which you tend to do when stressed.
‘Obviously not doll’ Bucky breathed as he finally freed the bag from between the plates of his vibranium arm, trying to play it off so you wouldn’t laugh at him. You sighed in relief, a hand on your chest as you turn to look at him.‘Oh thank the gods. I’m sure you’ll be fine on the floor so...’ you started before Bucky held up a hand to shut you up. ‘We won’t be sharing a bed because you’ he explained, poking his metal finger lightly in your chest as he smiled down on you, ‘...will be sleeping on the floor’.
Your mouth fell slightly open, not from surprise though. You knew going on this mission was going to take a lot out of you. You and Bucky were sent on this mission by Tony and Bruce to attend one of those fancy rich people auctions as a fake couple. Your task was to intercept a small branch of hydra trying to sell illegal weapons on the black market. Natasha sniffed them out weeks ago, but she had to go help mother fucking Clint with some shit. I don’t know, or care. It’s Clint. Anyway, Tony promised he would book you a room with 2 separate beds, as you had specifically requested, but looks like the literal billionaire couldn’t even sort that one out.
‘You must be joking’ you snapped back in annoyance, glaring into his crystalline blue eyes which sparkled not so innocently with mischief. ‘Do I look like it?’ he replied, a smirk playing on his annoyingly perfect lips. ‘Do you really think I’m going to sleep on the floor?’ you questioned furiously, gazing upon Bucky with hatred by now. ‘I’d rather you not sleep here at all. That way I wouldn’t even have to look at your face’ he answers carelessly, shooting you a sarcastic smile. You rolled your eyes with an exaggerated flare, glaring at him before shoving past him to grab your bag. ‘Fine. You win this time Bucky. See you at the auction at 9’ you spoke calmly, making sure to bump into him roughly as you made your way over to the door. ‘Wait y/n I didn’t mean...’ you heard his deep voice grumble as you slammed the door as hard as you could. Now, how to get a new room?
——————————(<>)———————————
Pushing the door to your new room open, you were faced with a small single bed, a cramped bathroom and an old desk. It was still quite fancy compared to the hotels you stayed in as a child, but it was nothing compared to the room Bucky had forced you out of. Not really worth flashing that worker in the lobby for, but at least you got the room for free.
It was already 7:50 in the afternoon, and you had little over an hour before you had to be there. You flicked on the lights, and unzipped your bag. You were to wear a silky black dress with a low cut V, a slit down the side to reveal one of your legs and a skirt that fell elegantly to the floor, more than long enough to cover up the knife which will be strapped to your thigh. You spent almost all your time on making your hair and makeup look perfect, giving yourself just under 10 minutes to pull on the dress and a pair of strappy black heels. You lost your shit trying to reach the zipper at the back of the dress, furiously pulling up your thigh holster and sliding in your sharpest knife. You stormed out of the room, racing up the stairs in those heels like a queen to bitch boy’s room. You pounded on it with a clenched fist.
‘Open up’ you yelled through the door. It opened up fast enough, to reveal Bucky standing there in a black suit, in the process of doing up his tie, filling it out perfectly with his bulging muscles, smelling like heaven. Not that he looked good or anything. Definitely not hot. Nope. Bucky sort of stumbled over himself as you brushed past him, gesturing for him to shut the door with your manicured hand. As he spun back around after shutting the door, you caught his eyes trailing over your figure, subtly wide in surprise. ‘Eyes up here boy, I thought you didn’t want to have to look at me’ you whistled, pointing with your fingers. ‘Zip me up. Quickly’ you demanded, turning around.
There was a short pause before you felt Bucky’s warm breath tickle the back of your neck as his cold metal fingers gently brushed against your lower back. He zipped you up carefully, taking your hair in his flesh hand and pulling it gently to the side, sending shivers up and down your spine. God his touch made your skin burn. Before he could say anything else, you reached over to grab his knife, tossing it swiftly so it missed his head by an inch, tip landing firmly in the wooden doorframe. ‘Let’s go’ you motioned with your head, leaving Bucky with his mouth open, eyes burning into your back as he watched you leave, speechless.
You arrived at the auction just in time, showing your passes to the security guards positioned either side of the grand entrance. The knife was digging into your leg, but there was nothing you could currently do about it. You and Bucky swiftly entered, observing and mapping out the area in your heads in case a quick getaway was needed. There was the main stage, with strange looking items laid out across it, including what looked like the stolen tech Nat had described to you. There was the bar, with important looking business men sat beside it ordering drinks and talking about money and sex. There were relatively few women, but those who were present were dressed to the nines. Pearls, diamonds and emeralds sparkled tauntingly from their necks and ears, with dresses that cost more than your entire wardrobe.
You pushed down the tang of jealousy you felt as you thought about how easy these people had it. They can buy anything they want, do anything they want, and be anyone they want. Pulling your thoughts back down to earth, you gently reached out a hand to Bucky’s firm shoulder, pushing slightly so he would lean down to your height. He was pretty fucking tall, after all. ‘I’ll take the bar, that prick gives me hydra vibes. You go do what your good at and be a fuckboy, and try to get something useful out of the ladies. Double tap your earpiece if you’re in danger’ you whispered into his ear, plastering on a fake ass smile to make it seem to anyone watching like you’re just sharing something wonderful with your husband. Being so close to him made you feel all warm and tingly, and it made you slightly nervous. Little did you know, as much as Bucky had an affect on you, he was affected by you just as much if not even more.
You both went in opposite directions. Rubbing your hand up the suspicious looking man’s arm, you turned on your flirty charm and began working. ‘What’s a handsome man like you doing without a girl on your arm’ you drawled, noticing the man gesture quickly with a nod of his head for the man beside him to kindly fuck off. You sat down on the barstool, moving your hand to play with your hair. Men fell for that shit every time. ‘Waiting for someone like you’ the man flirted back, leaning in slightly making you want to cringe. ‘Oh please, I bet every women in here has gone up to you already, Mr...’ you trailed off, trying the most basic trick to getting a name. ‘Please darling, call me Eric’ he replied quickly, eagerly. ‘Let me buy you a drink. A body like yours should be treated with the upmost respect’ he spoke, as more off a demand than a question. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat at the mention of your body, internally screaming at how little respect he seemed to have for women.
As the man turned to the bartender, you quickly spun your head around to try and look for Bucky. Mother fucker had 3 girls all over him. What do you care though, your not actually married and he can do whatever he wants. If the bitch boy wants to fuck them, who cares? Not you, that’s for sure. You keep telling yourself that. You shook your head, turning your attention to the man who was now holding 2 glasses of rosé. You actually really loved rosé, so at least the drink might be nice. As he tapped his glass against yours to produce a satisfying clink, you brought the thin glass to your painted lips. The rosé was delicious and you hummed contently, but there was a slightly salty taste to it. Must be an older brand. You drank and talked with the man for a few more minutes, asking him about his job and his family. You thought you were getting somewhere valuable when you suddenly felt your head start to spin. What the fuck. You knew you were a lightweight, but not like this. You felt your mouth go dry as you looked up at the man. The bitch was smiling.
‘W...what did you do to me?’ you slurred, feeling your mind cloud and your muscles weaken with every passing second. ‘It’s ok gorgeous, it will wear of when I’m done with you. Let’s take you somewhere more private, hm? the man’s voice echoed in your ear as he gripped you roughly by the waist and started moving with you by his side to the door. That’s going to bruise. You tried to move your arm to press your earpiece signalling Bucky for help, but your arm felt weird and tired, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lift it up that high. Instead, you opted for trying to reach for your knife but the man who was sat beside the other previously caught your wrist aggressively and smirked, the 2 men sharing a god awful look. It made you want to crawl inside your skin and die. It was at that moment that it dawned upon you what exactly they wanted to do with you, with your body. You had to escape, except you couldn’t. It was too late. You were outnumbered and could feel your consciousness slipping. You don’t remember much beyond that point. A gun branded with the hydra symbol. An explosion. The taste of blood in your mouth. Cold metal on your shoulder. Shouting, screaming, crying. Black.
———————————(<>)——————————
Your eyes shot open, a head splitting migraine crushing your skull. What the fuck happened, and where the fuck were you? You felt something warm behind you, holding you close and breathing slowly. It smelt heavenly. You took a moment, taking a few slow, deep breaths as you tried to calm yourself down. You pulled the blanket off of your body to reveal a human arm curled securely around your waist, your dress still hugging your body, but the knife was gone. Your mind was still foggy, and you were confused as to why a man’s arm was grasping you. Something snapped in you as some memory of what those men tried to do came back to you, and you felt tears blur your already clouded vision.
Pulling the arm off, you pushed yourself up slowly, turning to look at what was beside you. Your eyes softened when you saw who it was. Bucky was lying beside you in the bed in the original suit, still wearing his suit and loosened tie. He looked so beautiful and peaceful like this. Your look quickly turned to one of concern as you noticed his suit was covered in fresh blood, a few cuts and grazes sprinkled across his handsome face. Your gut twisted and you felt sick as you felt the pain which Bucky must have felt receiving those. Fucking empathy. You reached out mindlessly to run your finger over one of the deeper cuts, but a metal arm flew to catch your wrist in an instant, his eyes shooting open.
‘Oh my god you’re up, you scared me y/n’ he said as his face instantly relaxed and he moved his arm from your wrist to your cheek, brushing away a tear you hadn’t noticed had fallen. ‘What the fuck happened Bucky?’ you asked, hand moving to your head in pain. ‘Shit does it hurt? Are you ok? How do you feel?’ he tried to ask but you wanted answers. Why was he being so nice? You softly batted away his arm and turned to face him in the bed. He sat up. ‘What happened, Bucky’ you asked, sternly this time.
‘Those hydra fuckers must have drugged you or something. I saw them trying to touch you, carrying you out of the room, you looked like you were dead, y/n. I set of a small explosion, nothing dangerous, just enough to get all the civilians shitting their pants and running out, but the building started to collapse. When I got to you they tried to shoot me, the gunshots went of right by your ear. Might explain the headache. I got you out though, thank the gods’ he explained, genuine concern in his eyes.
‘Where are they now?’ you asked trying to get out of bed but feeling another wave of dizziness hit you like a truck. You sat down. Bucky looked down and twiddled your knife between his fingers. ‘Dead’ he replied softly. ‘I killed most of them. I couldn’t get the one who spiked your drink. The blood isn’t mine’. Your hand flew to your mouth automatically. Obviously you had killed before, it wasn’t the death that shocked you. It was the fact he had risked his life like that just to save someone he claimed to hate so much.
‘Why?’ you blurted out, reaching out a hand to tilt his head up gently to look at you. Your heart was skipping every other beat. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if something would have happened to you, y/n’ he replied simply, eyes lingering on your lips as yours lingered on his. ‘They were going to...’ you whispered, before Bucky reached a flesh hand out to cup the side of your face, quickly whispering back ‘I know doll, I know. I was never going to let them do that to you’. ‘But I thought you hated me?’ you sighed, watching conflicting emotions dance in his eyes. You didn’t notice how you held your breath, or how dry your throat was, or how your headache seemingly disappears as your lips finally brushed against the winter soldier’s when he pulled you in, answering your question.
It was so gently, his metal hand sliding down to your waist and pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your hands around his neck as you moved to straddle his lap, feeling his tongue swipe your bottom lip. You opened your mouth to let him in, moaning gently at the feeling of your tongue brushing against his. You kissed him with passion, and he kissed you with longing, both emotions mixing together and causing a comforting warmth to spread all over your body. He pulled away. You frowned. ‘Why’d you stop?’ Bucky laughed lightly and you felt the vibrations from his voice travel through you pleasantly. ‘We still have work to do’ he replied simply, pulling that dazzling smile of his you so rarely saw. ‘I still hate you Bucky’ you mumbled in annoyance.
He lifted you of him with ease, holding you up kindly and making sure you could stand on your own. You wobbled a bit on those 4 inch fucking heels he hadn’t bothered to remove from your feet, but gained your balance and reached for your knife that lay dangerously on the bed. Bucky began to walk to the door. ‘Wait...we aren’t gonna talk about...’ you didn’t finish your sentence, as Bucky had turned around and interrupted smugly ‘about you wanting to fuck me? Later doll, we have shit to do now’. It was his turn to leave, and your turn to watch him walk out. ‘Fucking wanker’ you muttered under your breath as you followed. ‘I heard that’ he shouted from outside the room. It was time to kill the fucker who dared to drug you.
#bucky barnes#fanfic#bucky#bucky barnes imagine#smut#bucky x reader#avengers fanfiction#hydra#captain america#the winter soldier#marvel angst#black widow#tony stark
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞
____________________________
𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut 18+, angry makeout turned soft, gross fluff, bit of angst?
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst? (i still don’t really know what classifies as angst), confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean
𝐀/𝐧: i literally cannot help falling in love it’s literally a problem. like words of affrimation is my one of my love languages. i’ll try not to include the next angst/smut lmao
_____________________________
(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞)
“Wow,” Steve sighed.
Bucky had told him everything; not detailed but what he should know.
“Is it love?”
“I don’t fucking know, man. And it’s pissing me off,” Bucky sighed dramatically, making Steve chuckle.
“That’s crazy, man. Weird to think about; like you and her…” Steve gestured his hands together then cringed.
“Can you not?” Bucky laughed.
“I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t want to fight anymore but she doesn’t know that and I can’t just say, ‘Hey, when we slept together I realized I don’t fight you anymore because I think like you?’ She’ll kill me!”
“Who’ll kill you,” Nat said, returning with Tony, Clint, and Sam from the Hydra base.
“Nobody,” Bucky mumbled.
“Ok,” Nat continued walking to the medbay where you, Banner, and Cho were while Sam stayed with the boys.
“How is she doing?” Tony asked.
“Not good,” Banner said, biting his nails.
“What?” Nat gasped.
“She was in an extreme critical condition and no one was here to give her blood. Cho doesn’t share blood type, I’m radioactive, you guys were gone, and Steve and Buck have the serum,” Banner said.
Tony and Nat looked at each like they had something to say.
“What?” Banner asked.
“You’ll never guess what we recovered at the base,” Tony said, opening a slot in his suit.
He pulled out a tube similar to the shape of a pen that contained familiar blue liquid inside. Banner’s head shot up again looking back and forth between Nat and Tony.
“Will it work?”
“This could save her life,” Bruce whispered.
ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ
You grabbed our basket of laundry and walked back to your room. You turned the TV on and folded your clothes. You were still recovering from the last mission you went on with Bucky; you haven’t really spoken to him since. You two haven’t even fought since the day you came back.
Banner and Cho had injected the infamous super soldier serum Hydra refined. Apparently the entire charade of a fundraiser was to present a new type of serum to a shitty ‘board of directors’ a part of Hydra.
And now you were the only human being on earth to have it in your system.
Tony and Bruce were constantly running tests and safety precautions on you for the past three months and you were feeling fine. Better than before; maybe a little taller.
The effects heightened senses similar to Peter’s radioactivity, enhanced strength like the boys, and intelligence; by that you were able to retain more information and perceive complex data.
This was on top of what powers you already possessed. So now you were basically Tony, Peter, Wanda, and Steve wrapped up in a beautifully dainty bow.
Natasha has been re-training you alongside Steve, and you were slowly becoming stronger than them surprisingly. Wanda was still way more powerful than you though.
You finished a session with them and they advised you to rest but with the serum you practically didn’t need recovery time; maybe just a hot shower.
So here you are folding your clothes filling the time.
A light soft knock on your door disrupted you. You walked and opened the door finding none other than Bucky; truthfully the last person you expect.
“Can I come in?” he asked you.
“Uh sure. I’m folding laundry,” you said, stepping to the side to let him in.
“That’s alright.”
“What’s up?” you continued folding your clothes after turning the TV off.
“How are you doing?”
“Alright. Kinda feel better than before,” you smiled softly.
“That’s great.”
There was silence that coated you two. You were getting slightly annoyed as to what was going on with him. He’s been weird since the night you two hate fucked. And you weren’t having his shit anymore.
“What’s wrong with you?” you asked bluntly.
“What do you mean?”
“Why have you been acting this way? Why aren’t we fighting?”
“I thought you didn’t like fighting.”
“I don’t which is why I’ve always hated you and vice versa,” you started to raise your voice in frustration.
“Maybe I don’t want to hate you anymore.”
“Why? Buck, we don’t fucking like each other! Sometimes people don’t get along and that’s us!”
“Fuck, Y/n. You’re so fucking stubborn. Don’t you realize how exhausting it is. We’re always yelling and fighting and throwing shit at each other. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. These past three months we haven’t fought-”
“We haven’t talked in three months!” you yelled. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you flushed against him.
“Godammit, woman.”
“Fuck you,” you said.
Bucky kissed you and you tried to push him away only making him grab you wrists and push against the wall. You furrowed your brows kissing him back however. He was so addicting and you hated it. The kiss slowly turned soft and sensual; your tongues swirling around each other.
He pulled away and found you had your eyes still closed. He went in for another kiss but you turned your head away; him not knowing that you didn’t want to give in again. You could hear and feel his heartbeat beating incredibly fast; as was yours.
“Can we start over?” he whispered against your ear, his forehead resting against your head.
You didn’t respond so he got off you and walked out of your room closing the door behind him. You wished then you would’ve said something. You breathe out not realizing you were holding your breath.
You went to finish folding your laundry but another knock echoed in the loud silence. And you knew exactly who it was.
You opened the door meeting your eyes with his.
“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiled.
“What are you doing?” you tried not to smile.
“I heard you were moving in today and thought it would be neighborly to drop by and say hi.”
“I’m not playing this charade with you,” you cracked a smile as he stepped closer to you.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he whispered before grabbing your face and kissing you devotedly.
You laughed in the kiss and Bucky kicked the door closed with his foot. You wrapped your arms around his neck basking in the kiss. He pushed your basket of clothes to the floor, neither of you really caring too much if it landed alright.
You’ll make him redo it if not.
His hands brushed against your hot skin under your shirt after he laid you gently on your back. Not long after he whined, a way of begging you to take your shirt off. He tugged at it and you sat up finally letting him take it off.
His hands cupped your breasts while trailing kisses down your jaw and neck. He moved down your body and down the bed, standing up to strip himself of clothes. He did the same to you after he was bare. He settled between you and just watched your face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
“God, our fights killed me every fucking day. You’re so sexy when you’re mad,” he joked.
“Shut up,” you laughed turning your head away.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked seriously and gently.
“Yeah, I don’t want to fight anymore either,” you cupped his face.
“Ok,” he kissed you. He gently flipped you onto your stomach.
“Bedside?” he asked referring to condoms.
You nodded biting your lip, bringing your knees under your hips pushing your ass up for him.
Bucky wrapped his dick and pumped it a few times, rubbing your back softly with his other hand. He looked at your glistening pussy smiling knowing how wet you’d gotten because of him. He lined himself with your entrance and pushed himself in.
He stopped when he felt your body ever so slightly tensed up. You breathed heavily but urged him to continue. He moved in and out of you moaning. His hands rubbed up and down your back and your body trembled under him.
He leaned down and pressed kisses on your back slowing down a bit. You wiggled your hips wanting more and Bucky moved his hand up the front of your body. He pulled you up so you were pressed against his chest kissing your shoulder.
He moved widely fast in and out of you chasing his high. You were shaking against him, feeling your oragsm approaching insanely quick. You threw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. One of his hands played with your breast while the other reached down and rubbed your clit.
When he did, your body jerked and you moaned louder making Bucky smile. He moved faster and seconds later you both tumbled over the edge. Bucky moaned your name and bit you shoulder trying to suffice his moan. You didn’t give a shit though.
Your eyes rolled back and your hand wrapped around to grab Bucky’s face while the other around his hip, pulling and scratching him pleasurably. You moan, not you practically scream at how intense your oragsm hit you.
He fell forward softly trying not to crush you and kissed along your shoulder blades. You panted heavily under him, desperate to catch your breath. You laughed a bit after making him laugh too.
“That was … holy shit, wow,” you gasped.
“Good,” he smiled at you.
“What on earth do we say to others?” you rolled under him so you laid on your back.
“Eh, let ‘em figure it out,” he buried his face in your neck making you laugh.
You two went another round or two... or seven, until you guys finally rested and slept for the night. Suspiciously no one came looking for either of you.
The next morning you woke up in Bucky’s arms feeling strikingly sore. You never got sore. But considering you and Bucky are both enhanced and went on for hours last night, it doesn’t actually surprise you too much that that’s what it took to get you sore for the first since you've been enhanced with the serum.
You rolled over seeing Bucky still asleep. You were so confused.
Bucky stirred before opening his eyes meeting yours and smiled pulling you close again. He closed his eyes again and traced little patterns in your skin.
“What going on in that pretty head of yours, baby girl,” he asked.
“We hate each other,” you whispered.
“We don’t have to,” He opened his eyes again.
“This is a very slippery slope we’re approaching.”
“I know, but I want it. Do you?”
“Yeah,” tears formed in your eyes.
“What if this doesn’t work out though? We’ll hate each other even more,” you said, your voice breaking.
“I don’t know, I don’t think I could ever hate you again. I don’t think I ever really did. Disliked, yeah. But not hate.”
“I’m sorry i treated you like dog shit,” you sniffled making Bucky laughed.
“I’m sorry too.”
“Bucky?”
“Y/n?”
“I hate you,” a tear fell slowly down your cheek.
“I hate you too," he chuckled, kissing your temple before closing his eyes again.
TAGLIST FOR SERIES:
@hoeforcuteguyswithcharmingsmiles
@sweetlikesugar9
@thefifthweasley
@thefallenbibliophilequote
@perfectlymaximumphilosopher
@kenopsiababe
@montypythonsholysnail
@smoochesfroggos
@emmabarnes
@furiouscopshepherduniversity
@ddowii
@mrsdancing
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky fluff#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#marvel smut#enemies to lovers
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Can the Batman get flustered ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Synopsis : Batman has a reputation of always being impassive. Of being very in control of his emotions. But of course, you being his wife, you know his secrets and weak spots... And apparently, sending him dirty texts while you guys are in public definitely works very well to fluster him /Drabble-Minific.
You know that Tik Tok trend where people send a dirty text to their s/o while they’re in public ? I don’t know why I find it so funny and all, but today during my lunch break I was scrolling through the app and fell on a few of those and...boom. This story was born haha. Written in half an hour while I was eating pasta, I hope you’ll like it nonetheless :
TW : SLIGHTLY Nsfw. I mean. The subject itself is “dirty texts” so ya know haha. No actual texts will be shown, but insinuation will.
My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives
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******
Not amused.
One. Two. Three. Fo-
Here it goes.
He hears the little “beep” of his phone, notifying him that he just received a text.
Not any text though.
A text from a family member. It was a very specific “beep”, for when one of his kids, you, or Alfred were sending him a text.
You’re a little disappointed he changed the alert sound back to that boring “beep” it has always been.
You rather liked, when Jason pranked him and instead put a recording of himself saying “dingityding motherfucker, ya got a message from one of us”.
It wasn’t very tasteful for sure, and yeah, you probably shouldn’t’ve found it so funny...But solely for the face your husband and the people he was talking to made, it was all worth it.
So what if you were nodding along to Bruce’s sermon as he was scolding your son, while simultaneously, when your husband wasn’t looking, giving two thumbs up to Jason ?
Anyway. Here was the family “beep”. And here it goes.
A smile to the people he was talking to meaning : “Apologies, I have to take this.” as he takes his phone out of his pocket.
Not that it surprised anyone. He was Bruce Wayne, a busy billionaire who owned multiple enterprises and who was constantly on the move to something new. His phone ringing wasn’t exactly something special.
Him answering during a conversation wasn’t either.
Not only did he have the reputation of being a rather busy bee, but he was also known as quite a protective father. His children were not present at the gala that night, meaning any calls or texts could be an emergency from them.
Of course, nobody even suspected himbo Bruce Wayne to be the scary Batman, so no one could quite understand how worried Bruce could get about his kids. Yet Bruce Wayne has been a family man long enough by then for everyone to know he was a “doting father”.
The fact he always protected them from too much media coverage, or how angry he would get when someone would be a little too chummy with them purely by interest...
You always found it sweet.
That he cared so much about his family that even those not knowing him at all, even those only seeing his “Brucie Wayne” persona (minus the Playboy side he gave up long ago when deciding to make it official with you) noticed.
Of course, you knew he wasn’t always the perfect father. Or husband. But the fact he always tried so hard, and no matter what, always cared so much (maybe even too much ?) made everything worth it.
Ah, but today wasn’t about how sometimes, it was a little difficult to be Batman’s wife.
Today, it was about how fun it could actually be.
Like right now, as he excused himself and took his phone out to see what the text he just received said.
He was reading it now. And suddenly...
His eyes widened, his face turned a light shade of red, he hurriedly hid his phone’s screen, and cough a little to hide how hot he suddenly felt.
“Are you alright, Bruce ?”
One of the man he was talking to asked, and with an awkward smile (very unlike him), he answered :
“Yes, yes everything is ok. Haha. The um, the children.”
The man nods, and says something like : “Aaah children, never cease to worry us right ?” and Bruce chuckles. Of this utterly fake chuckle only you knew was fake.
His real laugh sounded nothing like that.
A few more seconds pass, before Bruce excuses himself, saying he has to go check something, and...Finally.
Finally, his eyes are searching for you.
Finding you easily amongst everyone else.
His slight frown, his rosy cheeks who would stay this color for a little while still, and the way he walked towards you with incredible resolve...How adorable.
“I bet you find this funny, mm ?”
“No idea what you’re talking about, dear.”
Your small smile is infuriating. And oh, oh how Bruce wished he didn’t love it as much as he did. Oh how he wished he could actually be mad at you for sending him such a thing, in such a public place.
“You need to stop doing that.”
“Doing what, exactly ?”
“Sending me -he lowers his voice and continues- sending me those, things.”
“Things ?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You smile at him, coyly. But he can see the mischievous spark in your eyes. And he scoffs, frustrated that you always seem to easily get to him.
Nobody does that. Only you.
Sure, his kids will sometimes get under his skin just for the sake of it. Or could have rather hurtful words if they weren’t feeling well. But he was always able to control his emotions in those cases.
The Batman was always so impassive. He always looked so in control of his emotions. And Bruce worked for years and years to achieve this. To be able to hide it all deep within him, to pretend he’s not feeling anything, and stay neutral.
But you...You always burned through his very being. Wether it was because you smiled at him, or send him a rather dirty text in the middle of a crowded charity ball, as he was talking to some of the most powerful people in Gotham.
Oh. Oh this was a treat. A flustered Bruce. It wasn’t often, you could get him like that. And it was such a treat.
He can see you’re enjoying this. And passed the initial shock of you telling him such dirty things in your texts, he can see how funny and rather sexy this entire thing could be.
If only, if only he could control his emotions when around you.
But he can’t. He can’t because he loves you too much. And because you know exactly how to play him (to be fair, he also knew exactly how to play you, and could drive YOU crazy if he wanted to, too...each had a turn, you guess).
He bites the inside of his lips, as he usually does when he’s slightly amused, yet a bit annoyed. Yes. That was a mood that was fairly frequent with Bruce. Especially when it came to you.
You always knew exactly which buttons to push to rile him up, to fluster him, to exasperate him to no end, too.
And when he bit the inside of his lips, it was when he felt a mix of amusement, and annoyance.
To be honest, that was exactly what you were looking for to get out of him.
And sending him a dirty text in public always worked. You loved, the flustered way he reacted. The flushed cheeks, the blabbering and how it took him a little bit to regain countenance while usually it’d only take him a few seconds to hide his feelings.
You smile at him again, happy you still have any effect on him and...
Ah. And there it was. Passed the initial shock of receiving such a text, and the slight annoyance at you trying to fluster him...the smile. A genuine and soft smile. One only always directed at you. One that showed you, and everyone around, just how much Bruce Wayne loved you.
He throws an arm around your waist, and says :
“So. Should we get out of here ?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Another smile. Genuine. Making everything worth it.
The hardships, but also this sort of simple moments.
When Bruce Wayne could act like a “normal” man, and get flustered as his wife send him sexy texts while they were in public, and very crowded places.
Bruce smiles at you. Genuinely. Yes. You could always get to him. And, frankly, even if he loved to complain about it...He wouldn’t have it any other way.
And now ? Now he was definitely ready to go try out what you suggested in that god forsaken text.
Why do you chose such moment do to this ?!
One. Two. Three. Fo-
Like clockwork.
He was in an important business meeting, but everyone here recognized that special “beep”, the one Jason oh so loved to change up to ridiculous things.
It was even worst lately, as he started a “game” with his siblings : “Whoever can get their hands on dad’s phone and replace all his notification sounds with something stupid, wins”. Needless to say, your children’s competitive side was driving your husband crazy.
It was rather funny, to watch him, each mornings as he was getting ready to leave for work, getting slightly unnerved as he made sure his alarms hadn’t been changed (your children could be sooooo sneaky).
Tim won, when he slyly and sneakily replaced the “beep” with...that same “beep” a few times, as to not make his father suspicious, only for, after the third “beep”, the phone screaming the main theme from the “Barbie : Thumbelina” movie. Damn.
Your kids were geniuses.
It was hilarious, to see your husband’s face suddenly turning pale.
Ah but your children, all genius that they were, were still amateurs.
They couldn’t get him to feel as mortified as you could, when you pulled this particular little trick on him...
Annoying him ? Making him feel embarrassed for a few seconds ? Exasperating him to no end ? That, they were always good at. But he would always regain his countenance fast.
But what you did ? Haha. Aaah it would stay on his mind for long after the event, and would most definitely...Fluster him.
Flustered.
Not a state the great Bruce Wayne was in often.
And most of the time, you were the source of the “flustering”.
Like right now, as he was in an important meeting, and heard his phone “beep”.
The “family beep”.
Unfortunately for him, it was one of “those texts”. That you just send because well, maybe you were a little evil ? Maybe you liked, to fluster him when he was in public ? To show people he was actually human ?
He looked at his phone, straightened up in his chair and...Of course, he guessed that you must be around.
And there you were indeed. Right outside the room.
He quickly glanced at you through the glass walls of the conference room.
You saw him readjust his pants, and you knew you definitely got to him today. But his reaction wasn’t that grand. Maybe he had um...A little “pants being too tight” problem, but it was clear he could easily hide it. And he got hold of his face rather fast.
Still, it was very entertaining, how clearly bothered he was. How unable to focus on the meeting he was. Only you though, who knew him better than anyone else, would notice the shift in his behavior.
It wasn’t enough, though. And he wasn’t looking at you anymore. That wouldn’t do.
You decided to give him the coup de grace and slipped to the restroom to um...Take a nice picture of yourself, let’s say that.
You went back to wait outside the conference room, where you’d have a GREAT view of him. And of his reaction. That was certainly going to be...Something.
“Beep”. The family “beep”.
It’s uncanny, how Bruce never suspects you’re going to trick him TWICE in a row. He should though. You often do it.
Ah but his fatherly instincts always get the best of him, and when he hears that specific “beep”, he can’t stop but look. In case anyone needs him.
He should really find a “beep” just for you, shouldn’t he ? Then again, even then, even with the knowledge that you LOVE to send him dirty text while he’s in public, he’d still jump on the notification. Just in case something happened, you know ?
Nothing happened today. Well. Except for your little restroom trip.
He barely takes a look at the photo you send him, that his eyes widen, he spits the drink he was taking all over the papers in front of him, and he slams his phone screen first on the table (shattering it in the process).
“Um...are you okay, mister Wayne ?”
His associates and employees are concerned. For good reasons. And Bruce hastily tries to dry his paperwork, and apologize saying it’s nothing, that they’re all doing a great job and to continue, please.
They do. Writing this incident off as yet another one of their boss’ eccentricities (as far as they were concerned, there were lots of them).
And you are LIVING. It’s always nice, you can get such reaction out of him.
He looks at you again. And as the meeting went on, for ten more excruciating minutes, he kept looking at you, although he tried really hard to focus on what was being said.
Oh well. He’d ask Lucious for a recap.
His eyes also kept going to his shattered phone, playing that photo over and over in his head...Finally, the meeting was over, and he rushed out.
No one was surprised, they all saw you waiting patiently (haha) outside. They all liked “Mrs. Wayne”, you were nice, and always lifted their boss’ spirit.
And they knew that when you were around, it was usually to pick him up. So yes. It wasn’t a surprised when he hastily said goodbye, and went to you.
“You need to stop doing that !”
You don’t even bother answering, smiling at him in a mischievous almost evil way. And you kiss him on the lips. A simple, very chaste peck. That light his heart on fire.
It’s crazy, the effect you have on him. No matter how much he tries to keep himself in check. Of course, he has the same effect on you. And to be honest, he flusters you much more than you fluster him.
After all, rare are the perfect occasions to send him dirty texts in moments that will fluster him. If you did it in any other time, he’d just smile and immediately go to you. Or answer with an equally heated text (when he was away, sexting was totally a thing).
More often than not, he was the one in control. Oh but when you could get to him...When you could get to him, you REALLY got to him. And if anyone else would notice how truly flustered he got, they wouldn’t recognize him.
But you knew him. You knew how sweet and soft he could be. How many people had the wrong ideas of him. And how adorable it was, when you got him all hot and bothered in that way.
How, no matter how much he tried, you always got to him, during those moments. And how much it meant.
How much it meant.
It meant that you were his only one. That nobody understood him more than you. And that honestly, no matter how annoyed, flustered and such he would get...he was just always feeling a little happy nonetheless.
Yes.
It meant a lot, that you knew him that well. And that only you, with a few well placed words, could fluster him so.
In the Watchtower.
This was rather dangerous.
Which added even more spices to everything.
Not that usually, it wasn’t “dangerous”. So far, you did it to him while he was in a meeting, at a gala, not far from many paparazzis...
There had always been a sort of danger, to you sending this kind of texts to him while in public.
But today...Ah today there was even more.
Because today, you guys were in the Justice League’s watchtower.
And there were MANY people, in that place, that could easily take a peak at what Bruce had on his phone. And that would NEVER leave it down that the Batman was receiving such filth from his wife.
That’s why you did it. And also because that very same morning, Bruce had been a little too grumpy and unpleasant, and you wanted to take a little revenge on him.
It was rare, really, that he would be a jerk to you or his kids nowadays. But sometimes. Just sometimes...Well. He wasn’t a perfect being. He had many flaws. And he could be a bit of a dick, at times. Even to you and your children.
Hence, the well deserved little revenge you were about to get (not that you really needed a reason to want him flustered...but here, with all your superhero friends, it was a particular treat).
One. Two. Three. Fo-
“Beep”. The specific family one.
Batman was sitting at the tip of the meeting table. You were sitting a few seat from him, a wide evil grin already plastered on your face. And all your best friends were around the table, discussing plans to secure Earth a little more from intergalactic attack.
“Excuse me for a minute.”
Your husband says. And no one is surprised. They all recognize the “family beep”. And despite the reputation he dragged for years, they also all know what his family means to him...
Clark is right there, slowly leaning towards Bruce, and you know he’s about to ask if the kiddos are alright. Turns out, Clark Kent is an amazing uncle. And friend. He worries a lot about “y’all”, very often.
And oh, oh this was going to be fun.
At the very moment Bruce’s eyes see your name on his phone, and what is the content of your text, his eyes widen, turn to Clark and...
“What the hell Bruce ?”
Your husband, by pure instinct, shoved Clark’s face away, while at the same time hiding his phone in his pocket again.
Clark could’ve avoided it easily, you knew. But he probably wasn’t really expecting the Batman to get weirdly panicky and shove him away like that ?
“You were-...Too close.”
Bruce says a bit abruptly, trying really hard to hide how worked up he feels after he read what you send him. He avoids your look like the plague, and pretends as if this little incident didn’t happen, returning to discussing plans.
The incident passed fast, and although Clark was a bit sour about it, he didn’t ask further. He guessed yes, he was a little too close ? He just wanted to be sure whoever send the text was alright.
And oh. Oh that whoever was definitely alright.
Because it was you. And this entire scene unfolded to your utter delight. Bruce abruptness and such was very much like him to all his friends. But you...You saw beyond that.
You saw how rosy his cheeks got under his mask. And how his eyes kept wandering to you, even as he was working on something very important.
You saw how truly flustered he got. So flustered in fact, that he couldn’t think of a clever way out of why he shoved his friends away, but that he was “too close”.
A little unlike Bruce.
Or was it really ? Was it truly unlike him, or just unlike the idea so many people had of him ? Because you...
You knew the real Bruce. And sometimes, he could be clumsy and shy and stumble on his words. He could be awkward and cute, all flustered and blushy.
He could be...He was so many things.
And so many sides of him were absolute secrets. Secrets only you and your children knew.
You were privy to the most secret parts of him.
The adorable ones that would get flustered by a dirty text send in public.
But also the very sexy one that would later act upon it...
He could act annoyed, embarrassed and like he was mad at you all he wanted. You knew he secretly LOVED it, when you took this kind of risk.
And oh. Oh how you knew.
Really ?! In front OF MY SALAD ?!
It was a “family and friends” barbecue. One of those occurrences that happen very rarely, when your entire circle of close friends and family is free.
One of those very rare occurrences where you could all meet up, and have a relaxing time. Today, a barbecue.
The summer heat was heavy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at your kids and Clark’s son, Jon, playing in the pool.
Jason and Jon were having a fight against Tim and Damian, and you weren’t sure it was a very fair one...Up until Tim kicked his brother in the nuts, and Jason fell in the water, cursing him.
You probably should’ve told them to “play nice”, but then Jason emerged from the water and grabbed both his little brothers and...It was clearly all in good fun. Jon was bursting in laughter, cheering along with Duke and Cass for whoever they were siding with to win.
Ah. Ah you lived for days like this. When you could all pretend to be normal. Then again, you would change your lifestyle for no others.
The vigilante thing, making Gotham (and by extension the World) a better place...this was what you chose. What you all chose.
You turned away from your children playing in the pool, screaming (you were pretty sure they could be heard all the way in Downtown Gotham) and having fun, to look for your husband.
And there he was. Flipping some burgers on the barbecue. Looking hella fine in his polo shirt and cargo shorts. Then again, that man could wear a burlap sack that he would still look good.
You were shamelessly staring at him when he turned to look at you, giving you the smuggest look you’ve seen on his face in a while.
Oh. Oh the bastard. He knew the effect he had on you. And he loved it.
Mmm.
That sort of called for a little lesson, right ? Punishment, perhaps ?
And the environment was perfect. Here he was, taking care of the barbecue, while surrounded by friends asking for burgers...The perfect setting to fluster Bruce Wayne.
You took your phone out, and wrote everything you wanted to do to him. The way that polo shirt was clinging to his muscles definitely fueled your imagination.
You pressed send, and sat back in your chair, sipping on your non-alcoholic cocktail. You smiled at Lois and Dinah as they came to sit next to you, and took part in their conversation (they were talking about how annoying Oliver and Clark could be, yet how great they were too, and ah you could relate to this haha). But you kept a lookout for Bruce.
His phone rang. The infamous “family beep”. But he didn’t immediately react. Probably because his entire family was reunited here, and he could see none of them were in trouble.
He was probably thinking it was you sending him a text about how well you wanted your burger. Or something like that. And that’s when...
Your oldest son was coming with a plate full of uncooked food for the barbecue, and was about to settle it on the table next to his dad, but his phone was in the way. So he took it in his hand, and as he settled the plate Bruce’s phone rung again.
You stood up, and called out, a little panicked :
“No no no wait Dick ! Hey ! Don’t look at-”
Too late. You could see, as your son turned very pale, eyes widening and looking very ill, that he saw what you send your husband...
Damn it. And it was a very imaginative one at that, today...You sighed, knowing what was about to happen.
“WHAT THE FUCK ?!”
Dick turned towards his father, looking as if he had just been betrayed. And Bruce has no idea what’s happening.
“WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE YOUR PHONE OUT LIKE THAT IF THIS IS WHAT YOU’RE GONNA RECEIVE ?!”
And suddenly, your husband understands. And he’s not sure if he’s amused or if he wants to frown at you. He gives you a quick glance, and you shrug. You definitely didn’t intend on traumatizing your son with this...
Dick takes hold of his salad bowl, looks at his father straight in the eyes and says :
“You disgust me.” Oh, but it was said in such an overdramatic, over the top way. It was impossible for you not to grin.
And on that note, absolutely outraged and rather grossed out, Dick leaves to go grumpily eat his salad, alone at one of the outside table. Slowly, his siblings go to him, wondering what happened and why he screamed like that.
But as they see you slowly laugh your ass off, as they see their father who’s not sure if he should be flustered, ashamed or amused, and as they see Dick’s face...They all understand the subject of it all. They don’t know the exact things that happened. But they know their parents enough, and particularly the way you sometimes couldn’t get your hands off of each others, to know what this all was about.
Cue a bunch of “oh no ewwwww”, and a few “in front of your salad ?!” doubled with “this is a family event...”, and you definitely can’t stop laughing.
You feel a little bad, because you really didn’t intend on your son seeing what you had to say. And this was definitely one of the worst thing that happened on the spectrum of “my parents are gross...ly in love”. But you can’t help it. Your kids’ faces are just too funny.
And the way Bruce tries to resist looking at his phone to see what you said, while obviously being very curious (and feeling a little hot, the heat outside not being the reason)...it was just the icing on the cake.
So what if you were a little evil, and liked to tease him a bit too much ? And what if there were some little collateral damages along the way ?
As you always said, nobody was perfect.
Sometimes, it is welcomed.
Oh but there are days. Harder than others. Where you do it, not to fluster or annoy him, but to take his mind off of his troubles.
Like right now.
You could see him, in the middle of this sea of people. Not feeling like he belongs. And dwelling on painful past events.
You went to get him a drink, for once. You left him alone for a few minutes, as you made your way to the bar and ordered the usual non-alcoholic drinks you two got. But when you turned around...
Here he was.
Lost. In a place he did not want to be in, but had to so he could keep the “Brucie” facade he put up all those years. So the suspicion about him being Batman could never even start. And so he could put his money to good use.
Charity, rebuilding the city, funding schools, hospitals...All of this required his presence.
But oh. Oh he really didn’t want to be there. If it was up to him, he would probably be home, with his kids, in front of a movie they chose. Bonus point if you were snuggled up to him.
This was his “one night a week” he HAD to not go out as Batman. And it killed you, that this night was too often used for such events...
But alas, choosing the life you both chose required certain sacrifices. Including a few hours mingling with people you don’t even like, to try and make your city a better place.
There was, however, something you could do for him. Something that would cheer him up, in this moment of “I wish I was somewhere else”.
The “dirty texting to fluster Bruce” tactic wasn’t only used in mischievous way, to make him fluster and blush and such.
No. No sometimes, sometimes it was used to cheer him up.
Like now.
Bruce’s mind was elsewhere, drowning in this sea of people he couldn’t even remember the names of.
Until a familiar “beep” resounded in his pocket.
The family “beep”.
Without a second thought, he takes his phone out and...
Yes. There are certain moments, in which you sending him the dirtiest text he ever read (and being the “most eligible bachelor” for quite a while, he already received quite the saucy sexte), while you are in public, instead of flustering him would...
He finds you in the crowd easily.
He always found it easy, to single you out. Even while amongst this many people. It’s because to him, you shine. Almost quite literally.
He never had any difficulties finding his way back to you, even in the most crowded places...Sometimes, he joked that it’s because he could feel his love for you guide him. When he feels extra sappy, he says it with a serious tone.
And he means it.
He does.
It’s easy, to find you. Because he knows where to look. As if instinct linked you to him all those years ago. And he knows. He knows it’s because he never loved anyone like he loves you.
And right now, as you sent him a particularly graphic text in the hope to take his mind off of whatever dark thoughts he was getting lost in, he definitely finds it extra easy to find your face.
There you are.
And he smiles at you. Widely. So pure. Rare, for a man like him.
Because he knows. He knows this time, you didn’t send this to him to fluster him in front of people, but to distract him.
And it works. Oh damn it works.
His smile turns “sexy”, as anyone would say, and he looks very smug, as you walk towards him.
In truth, whenever you send him such a text, he always feel a little rush. Wether you’re trying to fluster him, or just cheer him up.
That man was as in love with you as if it was the first day, forever stuck in the honeymoon phase...Why wouldn’t he appreciate receiving hot texts from you ?
Even when you were purposefully trying to make him blush, there was a little part of him, although it was infuriating how satisfied you look that you ALWAYS succeeded, that just loved those texts.
You’re right next to him now, handing him his drink. He takes it smoothly from your hand,
“Thank you, my love.”
You wink at him, reveling in his warmth, snuggling a little closer albeit staying rather discreet, as this was an official event, after all.
His hand squeeze your waist a little, and you know what he’s about to do. He bends down to your ear and whispers, all suave and smug :
“What was this about needing um, a little disciplining ?”
You smile, knowing your mission was a frank success as he’s definitely not thinking about not wanting to be there anymore. Well. He most likely does. But he’s not dwelling on pain and misery for sure. And he’s not thinking those dark thoughts he can have sometimes...
You give him a coy look, and then you say :
“When we get out of here, I’ll show you.”
Oh you make him melt. Unable to hide his bedroom eyes, he gives your forehead a chaste kiss in the hope to regain countenance.
But it’s too late. You successful diverged his thoughts from any darkness...But now all he can think about is you.
And what you told him you wanted him to do to you.
Yes. Sometimes...Sometimes, you sending him absolutely dirty texts in public was everything he needed to come back to life.
As ridiculous as this sounded.
You were his lifeline so many times...He had no idea, at this point, what he would do without you. He couldn’t go back to the way he lived before you. No. He couldn’t.
And you wouldn’t let him anyway. Because no matter what, you were here for him. Your unconditional love, and self-admittedly cheekiness was here for him.
Ah. How good it felt, to be the only one in the world that could show off about being able to “fluster” the Batman himself.
_________________________________________________
I think I haven’t written something that short in like...ever haha. I haven’t re-read myself, this is just a quick bonus story :). It’s really just a little fun thing to write, nothing too serious or detailed or with too much feels ^^'. A quick drabble written for the sake of writing haha. I hope you liked it anyway, and aren’t disappointed or something ?
Just wanted to show an unknown almost “evil” side to Batmom ? Hahahaha. Anyway : Any comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated ^^. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with an actual story ! There’s one coming just this week-end ;).
#Bruce Wayne x Reader#Batman x Reader#Batmom#Bruce Wayne imagine#Batman imagine#Batmom x Batfam#Batfam#Batfamily#DC reader insert#DC imagine#DC comics imagine#Bruce Wayne#Batmom x Bruce Wayne#Batmom x Batman#drabble#nothing too elaborate eh#just some Bruce love#Richard Grayson imagine#Jason Todd imagine#Damian Wayne imagine#Tim Drake imagine#Cass Cain imagine#Duke Thomas imagine#they all appear#fleetingly but still#batkids#Fem!Reader
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