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#vigilante x black reader
xenomoon · 9 months
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adrian chase/vigilante headcanons
x civilian/anti-hero reader + x black plus-size gnc reader
sfw and nsfw tones included
has these moments of cockiness and it either pisses you off or…
with that said he likes your hand wrapped around his neck
trans
adopts your phrases really quick
sounds like an echo of you sometimes
backs you up in any argument even if you’re losing
likes to stand close to you
^^sniffing your scent and/or playing with your clothes
when you guys spar he kinda pulls punches even though you don’t. taunting him makes him loosen up
enjoys throwing your body around//picks you up randomly
“look what i just learned how to do. are you looking? i’ll wait. ok ready?”
needy lil baby.
nuzzles into you whenever he’s close
clear frustration when he can’t get your attention
naps with his head in your lap and his face in your stomach
“i can hear your insides”
stares at you when you’re asleep and it scares the hell out of you to wake up with his wide ass eyes on you
forgets to take his meds a majority of the time. def ignores reminders/alarms to finish a story or joke he was telling at the time
puffs out his chest. not even for dominance or anything that’s just his posture
he has a really good arch 🧎🏿
likes to make you laugh + hear any variation of it
uses babe/baby a lot
sings in the shower
gets you to sit in his lap as much as possible
“let’s do it with our masks on”
you know he stalks you and just consider him a guard dog at some point
^actually did catch someone following you home while he was following you home and brought them to your front step all bloodied up and gagged :3
dad jokes
has this look in his eyes when you talk that gives you butterflies
you regret taking him to the club for the first time
^he became the center of multiple dance circles and kept pointing you out to join him
when your assignments are different during a mission, he makes sure to put to use the very long list of call and response phrases he’s forced you to learn
^knows he’s annoying but every time you respond, he smiles with relief
is very soft intimacy-wise
very low whimpers and light gasps
hesitant to grip you tightly at times,,,wants to treat you as gentle as possible
rough when riled up/has pent up emotions,,more of a power bottom then
favors backshots,,always melts in your grip
makes you food for aftercare
does his lil dancey dances with only his mask and normal clothing on,,,will perform multiple songs for you
ah…🧍🏿
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vigsilantes · 6 months
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No one:
Adrian, singing: Five nights at Freddy’s that’s where I wanna be, five nights a-
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apocalypse-shuffle · 7 months
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BRUCE WAYNE | BATMAN (generalized canon)
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“Staked Claim” (Bruce Wayne x Gn!Reader)
| Bruce and the Reader take stock of each other’s scars. That’s it, that’s the story.
| SFW, scar examination, poor expressions of emotion, fluff -vigilante!reader
| Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Picture source: Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice 2016 & Zack Snyder's Justice League 2021)
| 800+ words
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The barely noticeable weight of the blanket shifts when you move under it. Soft cost-more-than-most-people’s-rent sheets gliding against your skin.
The muscles in your arm ache in tandem with you reaching up to rest your palm flat against the warmth of the owner of the bed you’re in.
“What about this one?”
You watch, genuinely taken for a second, the hairs on his arm stand at the feeling of your breath ghosting across his bicep.
He doesn’t waste a beat before he answers.
“Firefly,” rumbles right after you ask. Of course. Why would he need to think that hard about the marks on his person? They might not actively be on his mind but it’d be hard to forget a memory that’s physically staked its claim on your body.
Firefly made sense though. The scar tissue was as erratically placed as the pyromaniac’s own personality. It also, like many of his scars, has the added bonus of looking twice healed over. Considering Bruce’s clear allergen to sitting idle that doesn’t surprise you.
“Why the sudden interest?”
Laying on your side you shrug with the shoulder not attached to the arm you have braced on the bed. Bruce’s eyes have sparked with a level of interest that you’ve figured out means he’s reading you. Or trying to at least.
“I mean, there’s a lot. Why? You don’t want me to be curious?”
“Most people refrain from asking questions.”
The wry lilt he takes on has you scoffing while you drag your free hand down to his abdomen. The area’s so tense that when you push down the muscles stubbornly refuse to give.
“Most people are scared of hurting your feelings.”
“My feelings?” he grunts.
You sigh out an agreeing “Uh huh,” and press down more incessantly with your fingers. Still no give but you know he gets the message when he forces himself to relax with a heavy exhale. You grin. “Not that I don’t care about your feelings, of course. I just know that if you didn’t want to talk you wouldn’t.”
If you were a different person now would probably be the moment you’d lean in to brush a kiss to the pink tissue left behind from the burn, show Bruce the little bit of kindness he doesn’t often get. As it stands you only hum, hand already moving to the next mark. Already searching for another answer, brown skin stark against Bruce’s deathly pale.
As usual Bruce indulged you.
“You’re looking for yours.”
It’s not a question. You answer him like he’d posed one anyway.
“No,” you say, but when he grabs your hand - hard earned calluses rubbing against your own similarly worn skin - you don’t stop him.
The scarred patch of skin he directs you to is on the other side of his torso, out of sight from your angle, and when your fingers brush up against it you don’t hesitate to laugh. An amused puff of air hits cool skin and Bruce shivers minutely at your warmth.
You croon lowly at him and press a kiss over the spot on his chest your breath hit. Only when he lets out a grumble of a sigh, relaxing just that much more into the bed, do you press more firmly against the knot beneath your fingers.
“This was the poison arrowhead too, wasn’t it?”
Bruce doesn’t even react in any major way, just gives you an exasperated, even slightly amused look.
“If I’m remembering constantly having to reopen the wound to flush it out correctly, then yes.”
Another grin pulls at your lips, you move your head to press another lingering kiss to the side of his neck. It’s not an apology.
“Glad I could make a lasting impression,” you say and Bruce chuckles like that was at all a sane response in the way only someone else who went around the world doing what you both did would understand.
From where his left arm is wrapped around your waist Bruce slides his fingers low and then slides them backwards until the pads of his fingers make contact with a thick line of matted skin. He caresses his physical claim on you with his own brand of tenderness.
It’s your turn to shiver then. You can feel how Bruce smiles against your head; fingers pressing down more firmly on the scar.
“Batarang,” he whispers in your ear. He noses at your hairline and presses a kiss on your temple next and it’s all you can do to keep quiet.
That peace can only last for so long once your gazes meet.
Simultaneously the two of you burst into quiet breathless laughter, curling into each other’s spaces and bodies slotting into one another like you were cut from the same cloth then mercilessly separated but had finally, miraculously, found each other again.
Palm curling almost protectively over that mess of destroyed tissue on his pelvis - your mark - you smile the realist smile you have in months, lungs aching with laughter and a comfortable warmth settling just under your skin.
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!
btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.
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Catharsis | Adrian Chase
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this fic is race/ hair type/ body type neutral; why does that matter? If you feel I’ve overlooked something in regard to this, no matter how “small”, please let me know!
@stealsteels threatened to BEAT ME UP (real) if I didn't post this so I'm doing it.
(…in all seriousness, thank you for all of your encouragement, it truly means the world ♡)
word count | 5.1k (woof)
warnings/ notes | 18+, fluff/ smut; clit rubbing/ fingering, spanking, vibrators, kink discovery/ exploration, trusting and communicating with your partner (hot), service top Adrian, masochistic reader/ sadistic Adrian if you squint. I don't write piv :)
as noted, this contains spanking. It is of course fully consensual, something reader explicitly asks for and (most importantly) NOT a punishment, but I realize it still isn’t everyone's thing, so please be mindful.
also this is incredibly self indulgent and tbh maybe a little out of character, and turned out a lot fluffier and domestic that I intended.
ao3
minors/ ageless blogs please respect my wishes and do not interact with my work/ blog. I will block you :)
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You hear him before you see him. A double shift at Fennel Fields followed by hours of shooting a bunch of appliances in the woods with Chris and he still careens into your apartment with all the intensity and finesse of a hurricane. The endless amount of energy he seemed to have was sometimes baffling, and while it was usually fun to have your own personal Energizer bunny around (especially in bed), sometimes you really envied it. 
You especially envy it on days like today when you felt like you could barely drag yourself through a comparatively low stakes and low effort day.
That feeling doesn’t last long though, because as soon as he toes his shoes off (a task that takes significantly longer than it should because he refuses to untie his laces, insisting that it’s faster even though it clearly isn’t) and rounds the corner into the kitchen, he shoots you his signature smile and you instantly feel that warmth you only seem to feel around him. 
Shoes successfully removed, he ambles over to where you stand in front of the stove, fanning yourself as you lower the heat of the burner. Strong arms instinctively find their way around your waist and he nuzzles into your side, dropping tiny kisses to your cheek. Said kisses are, of course, mostly a means of distraction so that he can reach around you to grab the spoon you'd been stirring with and stick the entire thing in his mouth, but it’s still cute enough to earn him a few kisses in return.
You return to stirring (with a new spoon), humming your replies as he launches into his recap of the day’s events. The recaps are rarely linear (sometimes they're not even coherent), so by now you’re used to the way he flip flops between how crazy the recoil from Chris' Desert Eagle was (“I mean yeah okay, I shot it without his permission, but holy shit babe that thing is crazy! Maybe I should get one. I mean when you think about it it’s actually kind of weird that we don’t have matching guns. Do you think he would think that was weird? If I got the same gun as him?”), to how he’d broken a guy's kneecaps after he'd caught him pushing his girlfriend into a wall in a dark alley, to how some other guy had actually proposed at Fennel Fields (“but don’t worry babe, when I propose it’ll be somewhere way nicer. Like at least  Olive Garden or better.”)
The last bit earns him an eye roll and a nudge to the ribs, but you still can’t help the grin that pulls at your lips.
With dinner done, he finally disentangles himself from you to grab the plates and silverware and plops down in front of the tv. Tonight you’re finishing up the latest season of Barry (a show he finds hilarious, more for the gore than the actual comedy), but the second you take your seat next to him his arms immediately find their way around your middle. 
“You know you can’t eat if you’re holding me, right?” you question, arching an eyebrow at him.
Undeterred, he pulls you even tighter, insisting that he “totally can though!”
“I’ve mastered the art. See, look,” He demonstrates said “mastery” by pulling you into his chest and bringing his plate around so that it sits on his open palm in front of you. He grins down at you, hopeful you’ll just ignore the high likelihood of pasta sauce spilling down your front with one wrong move. You pat his cheek and shake your head no, moving to separate your bodies. He pouts, truly pouts at you and once again find yourself unable to hide your smile. 
“Okay okay, what about if you lay down on my chest and I put my plate on your back?” 
“Then how would I eat?” 
He ponders this for a second until you see another lightbulb go off.
“Okay, what about you sit in my lap and hold your plate and I-”
“I swear, if you suggest putting your plate on my head...”
“You didn’t let me finish!” 
Another skeptical look before you sigh and motion for him to finish.
“...But yes I was going to say that.”
The way he seems to so desperately want this to work is perhaps a little annoying, but mostly very cute and endearing. Another eye roll makes it clear that his request is out of the question, and he’ll, for the time being, have to settle for eating like a normal person.
You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see a guy's brains splatter as he gets shot in the head point blank. Despite the fact that you know about Adrian’s propensity for violence, it still gets to you and you wince. He pulls you tightly into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder and you settle into his touch, muttering your thanks into his sweatshirt and pressing a grateful peck to his chin. You sigh contentedly and press your face into his side and your eyes drift closed as you inhale his scent.
A bark of laughter jolts you awake. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but sure enough when you look up the credits are rolling. You yawn and stretch, craning your neck to look up at him and he seems to immediately sense your stare. He smiles that smile, the one that’s sweet like his normal one but also not, doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s thinking about something not so sweet, and the proof of what he exactly he's thinking is now pressing up against you. You turn to face him fully, taking in his lopsided smile and the slight splotchy blush creeping over his neck and plant a small teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Obviously this isn’t enough for him, and he leans over to gently grab the back of your neck and pulls you to him. The kiss is… kind of a lot, to be honest, but most things with Adrian are. Overeager as always he wastes no time licking along the seam of your mouth, asking for entry. You don't oblige him, not yet, opting to tease him instead as you nip his bottom lip.
You hug him closer, feeling the muscles in his back flex under your touch as he tilts your head to the side to suck at the skin of your neck. You move to straddle him but he's already getting impatient and makes a frustrated sound as he grips your thighs and pulls you the rest of the way into his lap. With you seated fully on top of him, he moves one hand to your hip to hold you solidly in place while the other snakes up under your shirt. Adrian is rarely smooth and tonight is no exception. His hands move over you as if he's unsure where to go or where to stop, touching you like it's the first time. They ghost over your stomach and up between your breasts before finally settling on your ass in a nice firm hold.
He finally frees your neck, laving sloppy kisses over your tender skin before pulling away completely. The momentary loss of contact is enough for you to come back to your senses and you push lightly against his chest.
“Hi.” Hi? You scoff at yourself. Great start. 
You have no idea why you’re feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden, especially when he's looking at you like that.
The way he noticeably focuses when you have something to say, absorbing your every word is endearing but sometimes it also feels so intense. Especially now, when he’s sitting here, half hard underneath you, eyes growing wide and curious under his large frames.
You gather yourself and clear your throat.
“I uh, I actually wanted to talk about something. To ask you something, actually. I mean, we obviously don’t have to do it tonight, or do anything tonight. I mean I know you’ve had a really long day so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it tonight, or at all even, if you don't want to. I don’t even know if it’s something you’d be interested in so, no pressure, obviously.” 
You’re way too aware of the fact that you’re rambling, which is typically more of an Adrian thing than a you thing, but despite (or maybe because of) your awareness, you can’t seem to stop. The words just keep tumbling out, and now you’re getting flustered and a little bit annoyed with yourself, in large part because it's Adrian for Christ's sake. He's never judged you for your desires and you know it's not in his nature. Even now he just sits there, ignoring his own arousal, patiently waiting for you to get the words out, tracing comforting (albeit distracting) shapes against the tops of your thighs. In spite of all this you still struggle with simply just saying what you want– what you need. You take another breath.
"I want…" 
You had what felt like the most supportive partner in the world, so why did this feel so fucking hard?
He nods, squeezing your sides, encouraging you to continue. “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.” 
"I, uh, I want you to spank me." You hold your breath, gauging his reaction carefully.
He immediately perks up at this and just like that, you’re at ease again. Not even a hint of the hesitation or confusion (or even worse, judgment or disgust) you’d dealt with the few times you’d brought it up with previous partners. Not even the well meaning (but kind of annoying) "I don't want to hurt you" you'd come to expect. Then again, this is Adrian, your Adrian, and now you’re wondering why you were even worried in the first place. 
Then again, it wasn't like this was exactly a shocking revelation. Adrian already knew you liked some pain and he’d been more than happy to give you the occasional playful spank before, in and out of the bedroom. Even though what you're asking for now was much different, his reaction is a huge relief.
For his part, he sits there, fucking beaming at you. His eyes drift to your lips again, tongue sneaking out to lick his own as he leans in to nip at you this time. For a moment he lingers, like he can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you or move back down to your neck. He goes with the former, pulling you into a searing kiss. You don’t consider yourself the type to get easily flustered, but fuck if he isn’t literally taking your breath away right now. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, payback for earlier, and you gasp. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck again, squeezing just the tiniest bit. You know he's barely using any of his strength and that knowledge makes you shudder.
“So, how do you want to do this?”
You laugh, “I um…” To be honest, you kind of hadn’t really put much thought into logistics and the kiss wasn't making it any easier to think.
You don’t have to flounder for too long though, because now that you’ve put the idea into his head, he’s running with it. 
“Want me to bend you over the couch?” 
Another thing most people don’t know about Adrian, and you’re thankful for this, is how… focused he can be. Especially when properly motivated.
“Or I could put you over my lap. Get you nice and relaxed and just… help get all the tension out. Would you like that? Hm?” Hia hands have drifted back to your ass and he pinches it now to emphasize his point, making you yelp.
You can tell how excited he’s getting both by the way he continues to ramble and by the way he’s started to absentmindedly rut up against you. You don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it because he’s still talking, seemingly completely unaware.
“Maybe we should get a paddle. I’d love to see your ass jiggle when I hit it with a paddle. Fuck, do you have one? Should we get one right now? Or a riding crop. Or- what are those things with all the tassels?”
“Adrian, do you really want to buy a flogger right now? Or do you want to take me to bed?"
“Right, right.” Without warning, he stands and you do your best to cling to him as he makes his way to your bedroom. From this position it’s harder to grind against him, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. You press your lips against the long column of his throat, moving up from his Adam’s apple to kiss behind his ear. You move back down and up again, repeating the action on the other side. He groans, deep and guttural and filthy, and you think it’s the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Stopstopstop, you’re distracting me!” He huffs, cutely, like he really has the audacity to be annoyed right now.
You grin into his neck, unable to stop yourself from softly nibbling his ear.
He places you down on the bed, crawling over you to kiss down your neck and you arch into him, hands sliding down his chest, toned muscles apparent despite the thick material of his sweatshirt, before reaching his waistband. You move to tug them down, desperate to feel him in your hands but he quickly grabs both your wrists and holds them above your head. He pulls back to look at you, smiling a very different smile now.
You try in vain to tug your wrists free, whining for him to let you go so you can touch him, but the look he fixes you with is enough to shut you up. Slowly, slowly he trails his free hand down your chest and slips it into your shorts, rubbing you over your panties. 
You moan, clamping your thighs around his hand and grinding yourself into his touch, growing more and more desperate by the second. When he finally he relents and releases your hands you're panting, but you waste no time wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his curls as he returns to your neck, kisses turning to bites.
He rucks your shirt all the way up and you lift so he can finish tugging it over your arms. You shiver, fully exposed to him now and he bends down to take one nipple in his mouth, alternating between gentle bites and sucks while circling the other with his thumb and you sigh dreamily, pushing up into his touch.
Your hand drifts back to the nape of his neck, absently dragging your nails up and down the back of his scalp, dark curls running through your fingers and he groans against your skin. You move for his pants again but he bites your nipple that much harder; a clear warning.
He releases your nipple and you think he's switching to the other one but he instead fixes you with another stern look. His voice is lower this time when he speaks.
“Are you gonna behave, or do I need to tie you up?”
You can’t help the shiver that runs through you, or the whimper that escapes your lips at his words.
As enticing as the offer is, you’re starting to get antsy. You nod your head and mutter your assent and he smirks, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 
The look he gives you this time is much softer but it still makes your blood run hot, makes you feel like the electricity in your nerves is sparking just under your skin. You turn your head to the side and without missing a beat he grabs your chin lightly, guiding your gaze back to him.
Heat rushes up your neck to your cheeks, but you make yourself hold his gaze. His pupils are almost completely blown black now, cheeks ruddy and lips set in a firm line. 
"I care about making you feel good.” The sincerity in his voice floods you with warmth.
“Are you gonna let me?”
You whimper, wishing he’d just go back to kissing you, but you know the question isn’t rhetorical.
“Yes, yes, please Adrian just- please”, you pant, stretching up, wordlessly begging him to kiss you again, to do something, but he doesn't relent. He just holds your gaze while you pout and squirm under him.
“Now, tell me what you want.”
You peer up at him, uncertain of what he means. “I told you, I want you-”
“No, tell me exactly what you want. Be specific. Do you… do you want me to punish you?” His voice quiets a bit at the end.
“No! No, I don’t. I don’t want it to be a punishment. I-I don’t know. I just…  I do want it to hurt but... I more just want to not think, just for a while. Sorry, that’s not what you asked but-”
“No, no that’s good. That’s good.” 
He finally lets go of your wrists and kneads the muscles in your shoulders. The warmth and pressure from his hands soothes your nerves and you sigh and smile up at him.
“Alright, get over my lap then.”
You scramble to obey, already dizzy with anticipation. You feel giddy with it, and despite your nerves you couldn't deny how badly you wanted this– wanted to feel his hands on you, wanted him to make you feel release only the way he could.
You splay yourself over his spread legs, head resting on the pillow you’d grabbed. Now that you’re unable to see what he’s doing, your mind starts to race. Your pulse quickens, and you start to get that familiar floaty feeling you get whenever he takes control and you get to let go.
He puts one hand on the small of your back and with the other he finally, mercifully, tugs at your waistband. You can feel just how hard he's gotten now as he presses into your hip, but he doesn’t move. Adrian isn't much for teasing but he makes no move to touch you, so you wiggle your hips in the hope that it’ll get him to do… something. He presses firmly on your lower back and you huff, but still yourself anyway. He slowly smooths over the muscles in your lower back, pressing deeper and deeper until you relax into his touch. 
He moves lower, gripping the meat of your ass, kneading it softly, and you’re not sure if the gentle touches are genuine or if he’s trying to get you to let your guard down before he starts.
He unceremoniously spreads your legs, dipping his hand between your thighs before ghosting his fingers over your lips. He moves to circle your clit over your underwear and you moan into the pillow, bucking your hips back into his hand, searching for more of whatever he’s willing to give you.
You should’ve known better again, because as soon as you do, his hand comes down squarely against your ass. The pain isn’t so bad, but the sound is enough to make you jump. 
"Oh." he says quietly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I see."
You're not sure exactly what he means by this but you don't have time to think about it too hard before he brings his hand down again, this time on the other cheek. He stops briefly and you move to turn and ask if that's all he intends to do, but you feel another stinging slap before you get the chance.
“You said you wanted it to hurt, right?” You mumble a "yes", high and breathy, into the pillow that’s smushed against your face.
"Then ask me nicely."
Fuck.
"Adrian, please, please, fucking- just - harder please."
The pace he sets now is unrelenting. You pretty quickly become aware of the fact that he's making sure there's no pattern for you to predict and the thought makes you even giddier.
One smack, and then another, the stinging pain hovering just on the edge of too much, dulling all of your other senses. You start to get that familiar hazy feeling, and you relax into it, welcome it, will it to take you over completely.
Left, left, left, right, left again, one sharp, followed by a few open handed ones to your thigh in quick succession. All the while he's rubbing small, tight circles against your clit with his other hand.
His fingers move to tease your entrance, rubbing small circles into you and like the slaps he's doling out they seem to have no predictable rhythm.
"I think… this is really unlocking something in me," he mutters, more to himself than to you. 
You’d been so focused on what he was doing that you only now realize how embarrassingly loud your moans had been, but his comment draws something out of you. You’re whining and writhing against him, not even trying to look dignified at this point, the sensation verging on overwhelming but so so good.
Suddenly it’s gone, and you whine in protest. For a moment everything is still, and you realize for the first time how quickly your heart is beating.
“Still okay?”
You don’t think you can form words right now, but you groan an affirmative, hoping it gets your message across. Adrian gently tilts your chin so he can look into your eyes and confirm. “Yes?” he questions, and your heart warms at the way he asks, at the way he always wants to be certain. The way he's biting his lip also tells you you’re not the only one who's enjoying this.
You exhale sharply, forcing your brain and mouth to actually form words, making sure your "yes" is clear. He nods once in return and releases your chin, and you sigh as you sink into the pillow again. Once you're comfortable, he starts again.
"Good girl. Keep being good for me.”
The sharp stinging pain and the dull thudding of his open palm are starting to run together, all becoming one sensation. He grips the fat of your ass again with one hand, releases it and brings the other hand down. He repeats this a few more times; squeezing, releasing and then bringing his hand down quickly before the blood has the chance to rush back under your skin, gauging your reactions each time, cataloging every whimper, moan and twitch, every shudder, flinch and squeal and rewarding each in kind.
“You like that? You like it when I hurt you like this? You like my fingers rubbing your pretty little clit like this?”
With this he runs his fingers back through the slick between your legs, teasing a finger against your opening.
"Jesus, fuck, look at you. Is this all for me? Yeah? Answer me." You can’t help but whine at that, telling him "Yes, yes it's all for you, all for you Adrian!" hiccuping and helpless to do anything but feel him.
He continues, “I think I know what you want, but you know you have to use your words,” he chides. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, yes! Pleasepleaseplease” You’re nearly sobbing now, tears you hadn't even noticed before falling freely now.
“I think I have something you’ll like even better,” he says, and your heart leaps at the thought of what he could possibly have in mind. You move to turn to him, but a firm hand on your back keep you in place.
He draws his hand back and you brace yourself for the inevitable impact, but it doesn't come. You huff, knowing full well he's absolutely got the shittiest grin on his face but you refuse to turn around this time, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your annoyance. So the two of you just sit there, momentarily suspended, at the world’s tensest, horniest impasse. You, over his lap, your panties hanging off of your ankle, and him, with presumably one hand raised in the air and one tracing faint shapes into the skin of your inner thighs.
"You," he starts, taking a deliberate breathe like he's trying to compose himself, trying to stave off the arousal he's thus far been able to keep at bay. He’s still got his pants on, and the combination of that and you writhing and moaning on top of him is starting to become unbearable.
"You have no fucking idea what you do to me."
He sounds dangerous now, voice too measured and now the tension is really starting to get to you.
He’s moving on the bed, doing his best to not jostle you too much but you can still feel his hips and cock shift under you as he reaches over to the drawer on your side of the bed. 
You hear him rifling through it, various objects clattering as he tosses them around. You use this time to ground yourself, taking a few deep breaths but they do little to stop the way your blood is still rushing under your skin. You have an idea of what he’s looking for, but you don’t dare turn around to confirm your suspicions. 
Finally, the rustling stops and he chuckles triumphantly.
He’s quiet again. Suspiciously, unnervingly quiet. Adrian is so rarely quiet that when he is it's noticeable. He’s still lazily running his fingers between your thighs, purposefully avoiding your clit this time, despite the insistent roll of your hips. Like he’s got all the time in the fucking world.
You hear the telltale buzz of the Magic Wand behind you, but he doesn’t give you time to register it before he pushes the head right up against your clit. You cry out, the sensation immediately far too intense, but despite your struggle he continues to firmly hold you in place. You whine pathetically, the pressure and vibration too much too soon, and he eases up just a little so the vibrations are still strong, but not so overwhelming.
You keep squirming, you can’t help it, and he moves the toy from your clit. This time you chase it, now desperate for stimulation and he chuckles above you and spanks your ass again.
“Fuck!” You cry out, burying your face into the pillow again. You know how you probably look, completely fucked out, tears splilling freely from your eyes now as you sob ugly and way too loud sobs, but you can't think about that right now. You were close, so so close. You just needed that extra little push.
“You’re doing so well baby. Can you take a few more?” and he asks so sweetly you can't even think about saying no.
Adrian returns to rubbing the small of your back, his voice a little softer now. He knows the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, and he always knows how to get you over the edge.
You gasped an “uh-huh”, arching into his touch and this time he allows it and repositions the toy directly against your clit again. Despite his softer tone, his hand comes down again just as hard and unrelenting as before and you’re honestly glad he isn’t going softer now that he knows you’re close.
He turns the vibration up a little more and the extra stimulation is exactly what you need. You feel your body seize momentarily as you clench and shake and for a split second everything feels still before your orgasm crests and breaks over you. 
You hold onto that feeling for as long as you can, letting the wave break and settle and feeling your brain go blissfully hazy.
You feel floaty, your body feeling absolutely spent, wrung out completely and everything in that moment feels so perfect.
Adrian slowly ghost gentle touches over your back and down over your ass and thighs. You feel something cool and sigh contentedly as he rubs lotion into your stinging flesh.
You work to steady your breathing, reveling in the feeling of his gentle touch and the sweet praises he mumbles.
He knows you sometimes get a little dizzy and fucked out after you cum, (loves it, really) so he waits for you to gather yourself. Once he finishes you roll onto your stomach.
You wouldn't blame him for being self satisfied or even cocky in this moment, but the smile he wears now is anything but. It's just warm and sweet, like him. 
He grabs one of the small hand towels you keep in the bedside drawers and gently wipes you down, knowing how much you hate the feeling of sweat on your skin after and helps you pull a fresh pair of underwear and one of his oversized shirts on as you settle into his lap.
“Was it.. was it good for you? Was it too hard?” You hear the little bit of worry start to creep into his voice and you’re quick to reassure him.
“No, no not at all. It was perfect Adj. You know I would’ve stopped you if something was wrong.”
He visibly relaxes at this, and resumes running his fingers over your tender flesh, humming softly.
It’s quiet, and for a while the only sound you’re aware of is your breathing. When he speaks again, it’s like he’s already in the middle of a thought.
“But seriously. Whatever you need, you know I’m happy to do it for you. And you know how much I love taking care of you. I just always want to make sure I make you feel good, you know?”
You smile at his confession. “Yeah, I know. And thank you. Seriously."
You clear your throat. “It's just nice to have someone who cares, you know?”
He hums thoughtfully, still rubbing your skin gently.
"I know you care about me as a person, and I'm not saying you're the only one who does. I meant more, it's nice to have someone who cares about making me feel good. Not to say that other people were just using me for sex but… with you it's just,” you go quiet again. “It’s just different."
“So thank you. For… this. For not being weirded out by it, I mean. And for doing it, of course.”
You sit up so you can look him in the eye now and he pulls you into him fully, arms tight and secure. The last thing you're aware of before you drift off this time is his scent as he kisses your temple.
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amhrosina · 2 years
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The Four Times Frank Almost Asks You to Marry Him, and the One Time He Does. (Frank Castle x Reader)
MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM
A/N: I love Frank Castle so much, I just want to cry. I'm currently watching the Astros lose to the Mariners, so here's some soft!frank to make everyone feel better. This is just a reminder that if you get a response from @yourfriendhenrywinter, that's me on my main account! They're linked together so I can't reply to comments as amhrosina atm!
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Summary: I feel like the title of this makes the summary self-explanatory. This is four times Frank almost asks you to marry him, and then the one time he actually does it.
(Warnings: vigilante!reader (similar to Black Cat, but not actually Black Cat lol), socialiate!reader, mentions of cuts/blood/bruising - the usual Frank stuff, mentions of grief/death, guns, soft!FrankCastle, a wild Matt Murdock briefly makes an appearance)
The first time Frank almost asked you to marry him was after he’d shown up on your doorstep, beaten and battered to high hell. You’d ushered him in the door, still wiping the sleep from your eyes. It was almost four in the morning, and you had to be up in two hours to get ready for a meeting with your agent, but you didn’t complain to him about it once.  
You did, however, tear him a new one for patrolling without backup. He tried to hide his grin as you stitched a particularly nasty cut up, being so gentle with your hands and so stern with your mouth.  
“Frank, it’s dangerous. I mean,” you shook your head and grabbed another piece of gauze, “you could’ve called, you know? I would’ve met you somewhere. Watched your back. Shot a few guys.” You shot him a pointed look as you focused your attention on a small cut under his jaw.  
“I didn’t want to bother you unless I had to. You have work soon, sweetheart.”  
“I don’t care. Better for me to be tired than for you to be dead in a ditch somewhere.” 
He watched you as you moved from injury to injury, cleaning, patching, and even suturing a few cuts. Your fluidity was graceful and enamoring, something Frank adored about you. How it looked like you flowed from room to room, barely placing your feet on the ground before you were already taking your next step. How you could take out a team of trained gunmen without ever having to touch the ground. And when you turned that graceful attention on him, he was a goner. He had never felt something as gentle as your hands, except maybe your love for him.  
You began to clean up your bathroom counter, scooping empty gauze packages into your trash can. He rose to help you, but your stern gaze had him promptly sitting back down. 
He murmured your name, intent on grasping your full attention so that he could tell you just how much he loved you. How his heart ached for you when you weren’t with him. How your love had burrowed its way into his soul, healing the missing piece of his heart. He would always love Maria and his kids, but he also knew he couldn’t sustain himself on anger and vengeance forever.  
A knock sounded at the door before he could figure out where to begin. You made your way to the door, grabbing your gun off your side table before looking through the peephole. Frank was right behind you, hand resting on your waist, ready to pull you aside if the person at the door meant any harm.  
You sighed, uncocking your gun and opening the door.  
“Hey Devil Man.” You smiled. Frank narrowed his eyes at the man dressed in red.  
“I smelt blood.” You nodded, like Matt’s timing wasn’t completely inconvenient, and opened the door wider, inviting him in.  
“Since the whole gang is here, I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”  
You walked into the kitchen, tinkering around for coffee mugs and creamer. Frank continued to glare at Matt, who was grinning wide like a cat.  
“Cockblock,” Frank grumbled, rolling his eyes.  
//
The second time Frank almost asked you to marry him, you were standing over an unconscious Russian mob member, panting because you had just whacked said Russian in the temple with your gun.  
“That’s what I thought you said,” you huffed, stomping away from the guy, who was tied to a chair and missing most of his clothing.  
Frank hadn’t expected you to lash out the way you did. The Russian was going on and on about Maria, Lisa, and Frank Jr., saying they deserved what they got, calling them weak. Frank was beyond letting some mobster rile him up about his past, but it apparently didn’t sit right with you.  
You had stalked towards him, predator stalking prey, and asked him to repeat himself, a little louder so you could hear him. The guy had said three words before you raised the gun and smashed it into the side of his head.  
Frank grinned, watching you stomp around and mumble to yourself. He heard parts of your rant; picked out words like “common decency” and “how dare he”.  
“What’s so funny, big bad punisher?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 
“’s nothing, sweetheart. I just love you.” He averted his eyes from yours out of habit, but you didn’t mind. Frank’s been betrayed so many times in his life that allowing himself to be vulnerable and trust anyone was a feat, let alone confessing his love for you so openly. You returned his smile, leaning over to poor a bucket of water on the Russian, who came to kicking and sputtering.  
‘Right,’ Frank thought, ‘back to work.”  
//
The third time Frank almost asked you to marry him, he was sitting on the floor of your apartment, watching you answer questions on the morning news. You were pretty well known around New York. Your parents, who were wealthy real estate investors, had left you everything they owned in their will, which skyrocketed your status among New York socialites. If only they knew what you got up to once the sun went down.   
A photo of the two of you holding hands outside of a bar was leaked online, causing all kinds of controversy among the elites. Your relationship with Frank had been kept from the public, which served both of you guys well, but when the photo had been released, your agent demanded that you make a statement, denying any type of relationship with him.  
Frank had walked you to the door that morning, kissing you on your forehead and telling you to do whatever you needed to do. He wouldn’t let elite assholes hurt his feelings or his relationship with you. 
You walked on set confidently; chin held high as you were bombarded with questions about your relationship with the vigilante Frank Castle. You cleared your throat, silencing the questions.  
“I know you have many questions. I wish I could say I cared enough to answer them,” you paused, “My privacy has been violated. A private moment that I was sharing with my partner has been turned into a...a shitshow, really.” Your voice was crisp as it came through the tv speakers. The corners of Frank’s lips turned up. You had just cursed on live television, and that wasn’t even the worst thing you had done yet today. 
“Frank Castle is not a bad man.” Your firm voice boomed across the silent set. “Frank Castle was abandoned by his country. The country that he served, with honor, for eight years. The country that slaughtered his family in broad daylight.” 
Frank swallowed thickly. This was not on the script your agent had sent you. 
“I think most of you don’t even care that I’m dating Frank. You just want a story that will sell papers.” You rolled your eyes. "Anyways, my point is, if any of you went through what Frank went through, you would wish you had the courage to do the same thing he did.” 
The questions started up again, and you sent a sympathetic look towards someone off camera, no doubt your agent who was likely fuming.  
“My relationship is my business, but for those who are wondering,” you slightly paused, making eye contact with the camera, “I’m in love with Frank Castle, and I don’t really care if anyone has a problem with that.” Your voice was soft, flittering through the speakers directly into Frank’s chest.  
He knew that this would likely damage your reputation with the elites, but it was clear that you didn’t care. He let out a hearty laugh, sipping his coffee and getting up to make you breakfast. If he had been able to go with you to the news station, he would probably be on his knee right now, begging for your hand.  
‘Another time, then,” Frank grinned, ‘another time.’ 
//
The fourth time Frank almost asked you to marry him, you were knelt down, knees in the soft ground, cleaning a particularly difficult glob of sap off a gravestone. He was not expecting to find you here, among his family’s graves. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find you cleaning the gravestones.  
Frank had come by to talk to Maria, which always grounded him. He wanted to apologize to his kids for not protecting them when he should have. He also wanted to ask Maria for her forgiveness for loving someone else after her passing. It wasn’t a conflict in his head; he knew that Maria would have wanted him to find happiness, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about how deep his love for you ran.  
He inhaled sharply when he realized what you were doing. Your voice carried down the hill a little bit, hitting him squarely in the heart. You were talking to Maria.  
“Was he always this grumpy?” You asked her, smiling bashfully. “He likes to act tough, but I know he’s a big teddy bear inside.” You wiped the top of the gravestone off, sitting back on your heels to observe your work. Sighing, you leaned back, moving into a crisscross position. 
“I’m so sorry this happened to your family, Maria.” You paused, resting your chin on your hands. “I hope it’s okay that I love him. I really do. He’s...happier than he used to be. When I first met him, I mean.”  
Frank blinked the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Overwhelmingly, and simultaneously, grief and love passed through him like a wave, nearly knocking him over.  
You tilted your head, looking at the two graves next to Marias; Lisa and Frank Jr.’s resting places.  
“Your dad misses you. You probably know that, but I see it in him all the time. The way he lights up when he gets to talk about you guys. I hope he never stops. Weirdly, I feel like I know you, even though we never met.”  
You leaned back, searching through your bag for something. It nearly broke Frank when you pulled out a bouquet of peonies, Maria’s favorite flowers.  
“I’ll take care of him,” you promised, setting the flowers down at the base of Maria’s grave. You ran your fingers over her name, etched beautifully into the stone.  
Frank’s knees almost gave out. He fumbled with the little black box in his pocket, vowing to ask you to marry him as soon as he finished talking to Maria.  
Your phone began to ring, startling both you and Frank. You held the phone between your ear and shoulder and began to pack your things away, chattering to whoever was on the other end of the line about a contract you hadn’t signed.  
Frank was a little ashamed that he hid from you as you made your way towards the exit of the cemetery, but he figured that your conversation with Maria was something you didn’t want him to know about. He was so sure about his decision that it choked him up. He was going to ask you to marry him very soon. That he was sure about.  
When Frank asked you to marry him, you were being coaxed awake by a soft voice, hands wondering over your back and brushing the hair from your eyes.  
“Sweetheart,” Frank’s voice was like honey to your ears, “I’m sorry for waking you, but this is too important to wait until morning.”  
You rubbed your eyes and clicked the lamp closest to you on. Frank was crouched down by your bed with a small smile on his face.  
“What’s wrong, Frankie?” You asked, sitting up and checking him for cuts or bruises. 
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh. “I just wanted to ask you to marry me, that’s all.”  
He slowly set an open ring box on your lap. Your eyes went wide, searching his face for deception.  
“What?” You gasped. This was unexpected, to say the least. 
“I don’t think I could take another day without putting a ring on your finger...” he searched for the right words, even though he had been practicing this speech for hours, “I don’t have much to offer you, but I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”  
Your eyes grew teary as you smiled, palming his cheek.  
“Oh, Frankie,” you mumbled, “Of course I’ll marry you, you beautiful, beautiful man.”  
Frank let out a sigh of relief, tension leaving his shoulders, and smiled wide. Your grin matched his.  
He plucked the ring out of the box, grasping your left hand and pushing the ring onto your ring finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you and kissing his cheek.  
“I love you so much, Frank,” you mumbled into his shoulder.  
“I love you, Sweetheart.”  
Frank’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as you jumped out of bed, hurriedly running towards the kitchen. 
“Where are you going?” He called after you. 
“I have to call Karen and tell her!” You responded, voice carrying across the apartment. 
“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” he said, laughing, “Can’t it wait until later?”
End Note: I love the idea of Frank finding someone who he can trust and fully love after Maria's death. I hope if we ever see him in the MCU again, he'll be happy and healthy :'). Thank you for reading!
Requests are open!
Tag List:
@alexxavicry
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snowywolf1005 · 4 months
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NEW HEADCANONS TODAY!!
1.
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VIGILANTE DEKU X VILLAIN FEMALE READER
2.
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ASL X MOTHER BLACK READER
3.
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SANJI X WEDNESDAY ADDAMS READER
4.
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HOSHIUMI X READER X HINATA
5.
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MHA X SINGER READER (UTA POWER FROM ONE PIECE)
6.
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HAIKYUU X HISPANIC SINGER READER
7.
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KAGEYAMA X HISPANIC SINGER READER
8.
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RENGOKU KYOJURO X BLACK WITCH FEMALE READER
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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years
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mad at god - Matt Murdock (Masterlist)
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Pairing: Daredevil x Exodus (Matt Murdock x Reader)
Summary: (enemies to lovers) Y/N and Matt were friends since college, though they both have a secret from one another. When the sunsets and the Devil roams Hell’s Kitchen, there’s one person who seems to get in the way, Exodus.
(1) God Complex - Y/N is back in Hell’s Kitchen and is on a mission to protect girls from her same fate. But when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen gets in her way, a rivalry blossoms. (MINI-PREVIEW)
(2) If Walls Could Talk - Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson weren’t always a duo. Back at Columbia, they were a trio that included Y/N Y/L/N. (MINI-PREVIEW)
(3) Traitor - The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had become some sort of unofficial partners with Exodus, but Fisk’s games nearly tears them apart. Does she have any loyalty to the Devil or is she willing to throw him to the wolves? (MINI-PREVIEW)
(4) Crisis - Inch by inch, Exodus creeps her way into Y/N’s everyday life. When an unexpected project throws her friends into the fire, she has to make a decision to pack up the suit or keep this secondary life alive. (MINI-PREVIEW)
(5) Till It Doesn’t Hurt - Matt tries to figure out the best way to go about the Fisk situation. But in the process, Matt realizes that it’s not as simple as he thought it was. (MINI-PREVIEW)
(6) Not Friendly - Things are revealed, but not exactly in the way Y/N expected... Now she has some serious explaining to do. (very brief SA reference. blink and you’ll miss it) (MINI-PREVIEW)
(7) What If It Doesnt End Well - Sudden changes can be oh so dangerous for the life of a vigilante. How can Y/N possibly cope when her entire world shifts beneath her feet? (MINI-PREVIEW)
(8) Mad At God - One can only take so much pressure until they pop. Exodus finally snaps and takes a chance, but what does that mean for her and The Devil Daredevil? (MINI-PREVIEW) (SUIT EXTRA)
SEASON TWO
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hi-whore123 · 29 days
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Lately I’ve been feeling so burnt out I have a lot of ideas but I can’t finish them I know this is a regular thing but I can’t to feel like I’m a bad writer for not consistently writing and posting
This post was made to just vent really it really is hard to to balance school and writing
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yourmommasworld · 2 years
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Villain Reader
Basically a red hood reader ( also your quirk is teleport i’ll show you how useful it is)
‘‘Why do you guys always blame me, you guys always blam me for shit I didn’t do’’ you yelled. ‘‘Who else would have done this I know Bakugou is bad but his is not this Cruel’’ Momo shouted. ‘‘Why do I always get blamed for someone’s actions this is not fair’’ you said  quietly.  you were about to leave the room when you were grabbed by your arm. ‘’You can’t just walk everything you have done hero’s don’t do that ’’ iida sternly said. In a fit of rage you said ‘‘ you’re one to talk, trying to kill villain isn’t the hero way either. Iida was about to hit you but you teleported away faster. You just need to get away from that school get away from those people. So you teleported to the only place you cared about your grandma‘s house.  if anyone was able to give you advice it was her. You teleported to her house , but you didn’t see the house you know and love instead you saw a police cars and fire tracks and everywhere. You look to see where your grandma house was it to see it was burning. You didn’t know what came over you but you were running in the house with police and hero’s shouting for you to stop. You ran up stairs to your grandmas room to find her there coughing she looked like she was about to die. you held her and you teleported her and you outside. You were hugging her when she suddenly got pulled away from you. she was getting sent to the hospital while you were getting a stern talking bye the police. They called all might to bring you back to UA dorms. You felt bad for all might having to wake up this late. When he got there he apologized to the police and Took you back to the dorms. While you guys were in the car toshi was asking why you did that and babbling about how dangerous is to do that. But you weren’t listening all you can think about is if you never went to your grandmas house she could have be dead. All because those policemen  decided she wasn’t worth saving and it made your blood boil. Iida was right you couldn’t be a hero. Because if heroes couldn’t even save a woman from a fire then why do we need them. You are so lost in your own thought that you didn’t realize all night was trying to get your attention.  ‘‘hello?’’ He said trying to get your attention. ‘‘ you need sleep you can nap on the drive there I’ll get someone to carry you to your bed’’he said. ‘‘Thank you’’ you said tiredly. You were getting a little tired so you decided you’ll think about what you will do tomorrow. As you started to fall asleep you saw a flashing light almost like the one on a truck.
Y’all I just realized the mistakes I am so sorry
RIP to the queen 💀 
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nobitchs-world · 14 days
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No problem! It's called Every Rose Has it's thorn.
You don’t understand how thankful I am right now
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xenomoon · 10 months
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adrian chase/vigilante headcanons
forgot how much of a bbg he is ugh
black plus-size gnc reader
includes sfw and nsfw situations
listens to music inside his helmet
loves to collect those aprons with bodies printed on the front—any type of body at that
neurodivergent !
rambles a whole lot about random shit and redirects the conversation at least ten times before getting back to the main topic
he’s so sassy like you really can’t be going back and forth with him and expect to have the last word
sandals w no socks + flexes his toes a lot (stimming)
so papa-coded
mask on/off sfw = heavy eye contact
if he’s flustered with his mask on/off he’s gonna look everywhere but at you and will be sneaking glances
^actually it depends. he can be very heavy eye contact being flustered tew hmmm.
he’s so feral and unhinged
likes to bite you
is a jokester mostly but can turn it off in an instant once you give him a certain look
giggles a lot
touch starved lord. when’s the last time he got a hug
^gives long tight hugs + buries his face in your neck
likes to touch but the first time y’all went out his hands only hovered near your body, his demeanor hesitant
very clingy—both as a companion and as a lil boo ting
likes pda when it’s initiated by you
a brat. kinda hard to tame lmaooo he’s a good tease.
^starts off talkative then turns into a mess of whimpers and incoherent words.
begs easily. like you really don’t gotta do much intimidation once his brat battery runs out
sleeps with his mouth open
actually purrs when y’all cuddle
good big spoon and little spoon
checks on you a lot when y’all decide to sleep separately
is a really good cook—watches the cooks at the diner he works at a lot
loves to feed you + watch you eat
easily flustered by ordinary things you do
definitely gets turned on by your bouts of aggression and moments when you take control (outside of intimate settings)
so when y’all are on missions, his adrenaline gets paired with arousal
and after he’s v unhinged have mercy
gives off stalker
that's bc he is! and he doesn't deny it when caught
ending it here but more parts are to come :3
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apocalypse-shuffle · 2 years
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ADRIAN CHASE | VIGILANTE (peacemaker)
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“Interesting” (Adrian Chase x Gn!Reader)
| Vigilante begs you to team up after seeing you fight once. He stalks you and then refuses to stop bothering you for the rest of one night, so you decide to take him along on a mission. It’s better than the alternative at least.
| Reader is always black unless I say differently
| NSFW, (TW: no sex or sexual hints, canon typical violence and language. Race issues and police brutality discussed some throughout.) - v/n = vigilante name; I just left that up to y’all
| 3k+ words
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“Fine, how about this. If you help me out for the rest of the night maybe I’ll consider actually teaming up.” He fist pumps the air and you roll your eyes. “But no more of that black people image stuff either. Stop that shit.”
“Ohhhh. I didn’t mean it like that. I think you’re awesome as fuck, it’s just also good for my image if people see me with you and stuff. I just don’t hang around a lot of black people so I didn’t know how it could come off.”
You nod. Slowly.
“I hope you don’t wonder why.”
Your answer, for whatever reason, makes him crack the hell up. The man quite literally bends over to slap his knee.
You purse your lips with a nod. Okaaaay. Clearly this was going to be a long rest of your night.
You sigh, “Vigilante?”
He straightens up and cocks his head, you get the distinct impression that he’s smiling at you.
“What’s up?”
“The next time you feel like stalking me I will stab your ass.”
“But…what if I shoot you on reflex right before you stab me?”
“That-“ you shake your head and blow out air from you nose. “Alright, fair enough, but stop stalking me.”
Vigilante stands straighter and holds up his right hand. “I won’t stalk you outside of uniform…anymore.”
You stare at him.
“You’ve stalked my civilian identity?”
He laughs, it squeaks out of him.
“Of course noooot. Heh, that would be crazy. It’s not like you go into an alleyway in costume and then leave in civilian clothes out of the same exact alleyway all the time. Which you should probably work on by the way. But nope I’ve totally only trailed you in uniform.”
He nods resolutely as he finishes. His left hand’s also behind his back.
Your lip twitches into a scowl.
“Somehow I don’t believe you, but I refuse to touch that right now,” you turn on your heel and start climbing the fire escape to the roof. “Just don’t get in my way.”
You hear him climbing after you, “Alrighty!”
In your head you start shuffling things around. Vigilante, or anyone else, was not a part of your plan tonight. You worked alone, mostly diffusing couples disputes and small crimes here and there. Mainly what you focused on was fucking with the police officers that came to your side of town looking for something to piss them off. It made you extremely unpopular with them, but that fact made your day regularly. Better you had their attention than some unlucky black kids.
That was your main problem with Vigilante. He might not have realized until recently, but the stuff he killed people for did look bad, and the types of people looked even worse. But you were good at diffusion and subversion, and if you could just get his ass to think some more you could eliminate one more problem.
That would be a win for you.
And you liked to win.
You hop over the corner of the roof, landing silently and making sure not to cast shadows as you run to the other side. You’re glad Vigilante caught on and was moving through the shadows in a similar manner as you.
You need to get closer to the junction between west and south so you hop rooftops and skywalks to get there, almost daring for the other to keep up with you as you flip through the sky. And the man might not be particularly graceful, but he keeps up with you just fine, and he’s got envyable balance.
Sometimes.
He does slip on an ac unit he didn’t make out in the moonlight at one point. You’re fast enough to catch him, but not strong enough to pull his heavy ass back up, so it takes about three minutes off of your initial schedule before he’s able to catch his footing and use you to pull himself up.
Normally, since you always planned ahead, three minutes wouldn’t do a damn thing to hinder you. Vigilante had messed with that spectacularly though. You’d had to take a few minutes to assess what to do after noticing him following you, divert your path so you could corner him, and then take even more minutes finding out what his deal was. In total it’d taken you roughly 30 minutes to get back on mission, and the three wasted just now tick down in the back of your mind.
You naw on the inside of your lip while walking off. You’ve reached your destination, the cut off between the west and the beginning of the small patch of suburbs that took over some of the south side.
“Good?”
“Yup! Thanks for that, you’re pretty strong.”
“Not strong enough to save time,” you chirp back.
“Save time?”
You nod, stopping in the middle of the roof, Vigilante comes up beside you.
“Yeah, I like to plan. You gotta be able to throw away a plan when it’s hindering more than helping, of course, but they keep me from going in blind. Keep me from getting killed.”
He lapses into silence and so you move past his question and gesture him to the far side of the roof. You both hunker down and look over the edge.
“So did I like…mess with your timetable?”
“You did indeed,” you tap the side of your head. “But I planned for this possibility so I’ve traveled from curbing the urge to kill you to curbing the urge to maim you. So you’re fine enough for now.”
He nods, “That’s good.”
You scoff, “Sure.”
He doesn’t mind your tone, instead softly clapping his hands and then rubbing them together.
“Alright so since you haven’t told me yet, what’s the plan?”
“Don’t remind me,” you murmur.
Vigilante was an unknown you wouldn’t have normally let slide, but you had zero idea how to get rid of him without getting yourself killed also. So you’d let him follow you some more, but at least you could see him this time around.
You suck your teeth. Why was today so goddamn irritating.
“You see the house across from us? It looks kind of decrepit but that’s just the outside, on the inside is where all the really corrupt cops hang out. Now, I think the whole systems fucked beyond repair, but these guys definitely got to go,” you watch him as you speak. The mask isn't giving you much but he hasn’t stopped nodding along with you so you take that as a good enough sign.
“You still with me?”
“Yup! Cops suck ass, these ones suck harder, you want them outta your way.”
Behind your mask your eyebrows raise excitedly. “Exactly.” Your brows furrow soon after. “You don’t want to know what they’ve been doing?”
Vigilante shrugs, “Not really. If you say they’re bad guys I trust you.” He waves his hands. “But by all means if it fits with your plan you can run me through it. I got a pretty good idea already though, but it’s not like I can go after almost a whole precinct by myself so…”
He shrugs again. You just look at him.
Well.
“Interesting,” you snort and lean into his space. “Hmm. You’re workable yet, Vigilante.”
“Hmm good or hmm bad?”
“Hmm, undecided,” you murmur. He’s watching you just as hard as you're watching him before you blink yourself out of it.
You turn your head, “Let me get through the rest of the plan and then follow my lead. Got it?”
“100 percent, Temporary Boss.”
He even adds a little solute. Cute.
- - -
“Holy balls!”
From the back room you’re in you hear Vigilante yell and the sound of wood crashing against the wall a second later.
Seems like he’s having fun.
You shuffle backwards, dodging the meat cleaver in the hand of one of the three men that liked to ramp up and down your neighborhood causing trouble the most. You crouch, move to punch him in the dick, and when he keels over you pick up the cleaver he dropped then roll to the side.
When you bounce to your feet the redhead’s recovered enough that he’s standing (?). Though he’s bent over, halfway between the desire to lash out at you and to protect his nethers. You laugh and then fling the cleaver.
Before he can react it plants itself into his skull. He keels over. You go to stand over the man and watch as his body twitches and his eyes rove around. You spit. The thick glob lands on his chin and begins dripping into his clavicle as someone screams out behind you.
You whip around to face the source.
“You're crying out for this piece of shit?”
Taking in the badge clipped to her belt you scoff. “Well yeah makes sense.”
A dagger flies out of your hand and into the muzzle of her gun as she fires the firearm a blink later. The gun explodes and the woman screams. You move closer as she’s busy being distraught over her mangled hands and kick her in the face. She falls back in the doorway and you pick up one of the burning hot pieces of what’s left of your dagger and shove it deep into her throat.
You leave her to die to turn your attention to the man you saw run into the closet when you broke down the entrance.
Snatching the doors open you watch as he frightfully takes in your dark silhouette staring down at his huddled form.
“Please I didn’t do anything to him. That was just them.”
Your jaw ticks as you study him.
“But you did stand there and watch, did you not?”
He did. You’d fucking seen him not do anything as Khalid screamed, as Fatima screamed with her son. The police had confiscated the video from his father’s phone, but you’d gone into evidence to find it.
He shakes his head, “I -I uh.”
You roll your eyes, already knowing whatever excuse he’s searching for is irrelevant.
One of your daggers cuts through his shoulder as you hear Vigilante come up beside you. He shows up in your peripheral with his gun drawn and you both watch the man struggle, weakly reaching for his slippery shoulder as he wiggles around.
You sigh, “Last week he watched a child be beaten to death with a smile with everyone else in this house. Some of them held back the people trying to get to Khalid as the big guy over there-” you nod to the redhead with a cleaver in his head. “killed him. Then of course some of them simply didn’t do anything.”
Your voice takes on a mocking edge towards the end as you revel in the man staring down the barrel of Vigilante’s gun.
“Huh,” said man grunts before you hear the click of his weapon. “Sounds like a bad guy to me.”
You don’t fight the smirk on your face as the officer looks up at you two with wide shining eyes. The gunshot rings around the space alongside the sound of his body thumping softly on the floor.
You get your dagger back from him and then you both start to leave the room.
“So you do all of this to get back at these types of guys?”
“For the most part, I guess. It’s not the kind of vengeance Fatima wants, and she’ll pray for them a little, yeah, but she won’t miss them. What I do is draw attention so that she can fight with the courts, and the precinct is so busy dealing with me they can’t start forging shit and forcing false confessions.”
“What I do is a distraction, it's not a solution. I just make it a little easier for the people that have a solution to get shit done,” you smile. “And abate my own separate…needs.”
“So…what’s that mean exactly?”
“It means I’ve got a lot of anger and the cause of some of it is ripe for the picking. Call it reparations. Or don’t, I don’t give a fuck.”
You bend down to retrieve another one of your daggers in the doorway. You’re fully aware that what you do isn’t some righteous deed, but it’s not meant to be. A good part of what you do is because things need to change, but some of it is your own penchant for violence. You’d be doing things like everyone else if you didn’t enjoy killing.
But people didn’t become vigilantes because they were mentally stable.
Vigilante nods slowly, “Well I kill because it’s fun. But only bad guys.”
“I did catch that, yes,” you respond while yanking your dagger out of the woman you took care of after you cleavered the big redhead.
You both step over her to get to the main room.
He stands at the back door while you take another knife out of someone else you took out. You take in the six people he killed.
“You are excessively violent…creative even,” you tilt your head, taking in the deliberate way one person is skewed through with two wooden armrests. “Really creative.”
Vigilante shrugs.
“Yup, and youuuu are very sloppy. Though you have amazing aim.”
You wipe the blood from the third knife on your pant leg.
“Well not everyone went to school for this shit,” you shrug. “But thanks.”
“You’re very welcome, and I didn’t go to school either.” He pauses. “I’m just a natural badass.”
You make sure to look right at him as you roll your eyes. It’s a full body action and he laughs.
You both briefly lapse into silence. You grab and sheath a fourth knife as he watches you.
“You know who I think we’re like?”
You grunt at his words, busy going back around to pick up your throwing knives. You pull a fifth one from some guy's jugular as you answer him.
“No, but I know what you’re like: Goofy. Now are you gonna help me with this or not?”
Vigilante snorts quietly but starts pulling knives from bodies without complaint. You murmur another thanks to him.
“You think I’m goofy?”
You hear him grunt a little as he bends down to dig one of your weapons out from where it's embedded into a woman’s stomach. At his tone you glance over at him and see he’s more hunched than he should be even as he stands to get a second knife.
Did he just sound disappointed? You sigh, a few hours ago you wouldn’t have been able to toss out a stray fuck towards this jackass’s feelings and now here you were.
“I mean, not in a bad way, you’re just unfamiliar.” His head’s still hanging off his shoulders though, so behind your mask you huff and try again. “You’re surprisingly fun Vigilante, and I’d be up to doing this again if you are.”
Physically the change isn’t egregious but the way he visibly perks to listen more closely is. So is the way his voice lilts up.
“Really?” The next knife he pulls out he then flips, blood and sinew splatter on his suit. It doesn’t make much difference.
He sounds like he’s shocked but you figure that’s fair, you hadn’t exactly wanted him anywhere near you two hours ago.
“Mhm,” you nod, twisting a knife from someone’s neck and watching the blood spurt weakly out at you. Fun. You wonder if he choked to death before the blood loss got to him.
You’re startled from your light musings when Vigilante cheers.
“Oh yeah, you like me! V/n likes me!”
You chuckle and point at him as you pull your last knife from someone’s femur.
“I'm giving you a chance,” you correct in a similar musical tone as him.
He doesn’t at all stop his celebrating, just points back at you after dancing in a circle.
“You’re giving me a chance!”
It’s a ridiculous dance and it goes on for almost two minutes. You join in at around the last 30 seconds. It’d have been pretty lame to just stand around watching him dance like a killjoy. Which is absolutely the main reason you joined in.
The only reason.
Hem.
He hands over your knives in varying states of covered in blood and eventually you both resettle, you morso than Vigilante, who keeps dancing while he talks.
“So we’re officially doing team ups now, right?”
You narrow your eyes at him, jaw working for a couple moments before you nod once.
“As long as we work on the way you chose your targets,” you speak over his now whispered chant. He nods, helmet rattling some at the speed, while still doing a tamer version of his happy dance.
His whole body is vibrating with energy when he holds out his hand for you. You don’t think too long before you clasp it back.
“Deal!”
The two of you shake on it.
You wouldn’t mind having his energy bothering you more often. You suppose he’s not too much of a problem.
For the rest of your time you do a typical circuit route.
You help Max and his grandfather move supplies into their family shop, Tamar breaks her foot and she lets you carry her back to her mom (Vigilante carrying her scooter).
Trinity and Iyaka tip you to escort them to their cars, which you would’ve done for free, but you weren’t gonna pass up money either. They watch Vigilante funny but otherwise don’t speak on it, sticking closer to you. If the other notices he doesn’t comment.
You go to the grocery and Mrs. Linda waves at you from the main register, you buy a candy bar for one of the little kids so Mr. Jackson will stop staring at him so hard (technically it’s Vigilante’s money but still), and you get sandwiches to give to the group of kids that are always playing at the community park.
Throughout the morning Vigilante almost stabs himself in the foot, you laugh, you trip over some uneven sidewalk and he returns your same energy in kind, then the quiet of early morning turns to the stirring noises of daybreak and you wind down.
It’s not until the light starts peeking in the horizon, you’re out longer than usual and you're taking in the sun cresting in the sky that you usually don’t see, that he remembers what he was going to say earlier.
“Oh!” He bumps your shoulders while you two are walking to his Vigilante Mobile (which you quickly find out is just his regular ass car -and he was talking to you about keeping your secret identity safe). “Earlier I was trying to say that we’re like Kirk and Spock. Oh! Or like Han and Leia since she’s a lady and they’re cooler.”
You huff, but a smile still manages to etch itself to your face.
“Whatever floats your boat, Vig.”
NOTE: I’m just telling a story. You make your own decisions and form your own options. Bye. Hope you enjoyed!
Is this too much? Not enough? Constructive feedback would be lovely.
And my gun knowledge is rudimentary at best just so we’re all adequately aware.
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highfantasy-soul · 1 year
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Looking for another Namor fic?
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Well, I wrote one and posted over on my other blog (which I think I'll be using for all of my writing). It's amethyst-birch-writing...
Here's a blurb to get you interested!
What's Worth Saving
Summary: You’re a vigilante who haunts the streets of New York City with the likes of Daredevil and Jessica Jones, so what are you doing floating on the wreckage of your getaway ship in the middle of the Atlantic? You’ve never bothered yourself with world powers before, but suddenly, you’re made aware of a lurking threat to the surface-world. Hidden under the sea is a whole civilization ready for war, a war Wakanda is trying to stop. But with every new revelation about what those on the surface are doing, you begin to wonder: should you stop this K’uk’ulkan or should you burn the world down with him?
Warnings: ~Let's just say for simplicity's sake, 18+, minors DNI from the bat ~ some graphic violence, reader kills people, torture, allusions to sexual encounters, 18+ smut starting chapter 17, cursing, injuries, life-threatening danger, drinking, harm to animals, harm to children (not detailed), pretty much if you’ve seen the Daredevil Netflix show it’s that level of intensity/violence plus a scattering of sexually explicit sections though that’s not the focus. I’ll give more detailed warnings every chapter.
Pairing: Namor x Vigilante!Reader, MattMurdock(Daredevil) x Vigilante!Reader
Find the fic HERE! Well, the intro and chapter 1 that is...chapter 2 is ready in the wings if y'all like this...
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an0nimowe · 11 months
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Eu te convidava para sair! ( Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader!Viúva Negra)
Talvez uma série sobre isso.
Reader: Natasha Roger
Avisos: menções de morte, mansões de sangue, de luta, inimigos para amantes?.
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O silêncio poderia ser considerado, um pouco, perturbador. A falta de multidões de pessoas reunidas, para um protesto ou algo do tipo, facilita o trabalho de Natasha.
A mulher de cabelos ruivos, vestida com um traje, com a arma em mãos, só precisava matar e sair. Sem testemunhas. Ou pelo menos tentar, já que o alvo era um vagabundo de merda. Com um ou dois seguranças musculosos e armados. Ela conseguiria, se o vigilante não entrasse na briga e acabasse com tudo. Um pé no saco.
Pegando uma faca e se escondeu atrás de uma parede, esperando o momento certo. Logo depois chamando atenção de um dos seguranças, que caiu como um patinho. A mulher cravou a faca no pescoço do homem, enquanto o outro vinha em sua direção. Que sem esforço nem um, o derrubou no chão e o matando com golpes no rosto.
Seguindo um corredor, em direção a uma porta, para finalizar o trabalho. A ruiva não acreditou no que viu. Sangue espalhado pelo chão, ela não fez isto... 'Porra vigilante!' ela pensou. Acabaria com isso de vez.
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Se ele não tivesse visto, ela só o mataria sem dificuldade, mas ele viu. Agora, a Viúva negra se encontrava lutando contra o Vigilante. Que por alguma razão não calava a boca. Mesmo se levasse um soco na cara ele falava " isso doi, viúva " isso a irritava ainda mais!
Quando finalmente o derrubou no chão, ela subiu em cima dele, ambos cansados. Uma luta desesperadora. Mas uma vez a faca nas mãos da mulher, erguidas para cima.
- Uau, você vai me matar?- A voz sou como.um deboche
- Eu vou!- Ela disse, confiante. Por mais que fosse por isso que estava ali, ela não conseguiu. E abaixou a faca. O homem se aproveitou do momento, trocando a posição e ficando sobre a mulher.
- Sabe. Se você não estivesse tentando me matar,eu te convidava para sair. - Isso a chocou um pouco. Não era todo dia que seu inimigo a cantava.
- Estou aberta para negócios, Vigilante. Só... saia de cima de mim! Está me sufocando com seu peso! - Ele caiu para o lado, e ajudando a mulher a se sentar. Depois olhando ao lugar da antiga luta. Tudo acabado, buracos de tiros e facadas, móveis em todo canto, tudo espalhado. Uma verdadeira zona de guerra.
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Anotação da autora: primeira vez escrevendo. Tá uma porcaria, nós relevamos. Começar a postar com frequência aqui vários temas. Beijinhos, bey bey.
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orionremastered · 3 months
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could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep
this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have
Masterlist
Oblivious
Dick Grayson
The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.
Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.
"What are you doing here?"
The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Where is he?"
You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.
"He's grocery shopping."
"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.
Jason Todd
A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.
You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.
"What are you doing in my house?"
The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.
"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."
"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."
Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.
Tim Drake
Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.
After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.
You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.
The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.
In your bathroom.
"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"
"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.
"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."
"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."
"You never told me that," you say.
"It's a recent thing. Sorry."
You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.
Damian Wayne
"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."
Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.
When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.
You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.
Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.
"Oh. Oh."
It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.
It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.
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lunasfics · 7 months
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Found Family
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
word count: 8.2k
preview
a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)
reblogs are appreciated!
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“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 
“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 
“Good. Nightwing?” 
“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 
“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 
“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 
“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 
Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”
“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 
Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”
He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 
Attempt 1: G6B24 
Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)
Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 
Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision
‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 
“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 
Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.
His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 
“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 
“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.
Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 
“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 
The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.
You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 
“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.
You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.
“Batman?” 
Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.
Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 
You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 
Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 
"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.
He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."
You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 
When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.
They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 
“Hello?” 
“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”
“What’s going o-”
He hung up. 
Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 
Damian covered his laugh with a cough.
You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 
Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 
Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 
Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.
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Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 
He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”
You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.
Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 
Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 
You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 
Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 
“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 
You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?
“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 
Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 
At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 
Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.
Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 
You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.
“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  
Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 
You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 
“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 
“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 
Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 
“Wayne.” 
He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”
“Wayne.”
This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”
The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 
Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”
“No.” came their simultaneous response. 
Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 
Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 
Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 
Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”
Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”
Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”
You nodded, “I like it.” 
Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 
Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 
Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 
Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 
Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 
You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 
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You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 
“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 
“They’re fine…Thank you.”
He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 
You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 
You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 
Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner
You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 
You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 
Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 
Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 
“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.
He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 
You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 
“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.
His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 
“How?” 
All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 
“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 
Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”
“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 
Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 
Bruce simply gave a nod. 
Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 
Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.
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Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 
Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 
She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 
Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”
“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.
Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”
You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”
“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 
Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 
He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”
“Sounds about right.” 
Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 
The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.
The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.
Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 
“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  
The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 
“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.
“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 
You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 
Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 
You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 
Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.
Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 
“This better be good.” 
Tim mumbled, “Finally” 
“Miss me Timmy?” 
“Quite the contrary.”
The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 
His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 
“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 
Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 
“Holy shit, man.” 
“Jason, will you shut up?” 
“Never.” 
“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 
“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 
“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 
“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 
“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 
Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 
“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 
“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 
“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 
Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 
Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 
“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 
Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 
Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 
“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 
She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 
“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 
Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 
“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 
“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.
“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 
“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 
“I want time with her, Bruce.” 
“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 
Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 
Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 
You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”
She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”
You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Clark gave you a fond smile. 
Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 
The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 
“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 
You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 
It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 
You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 
He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”
“I suppose so.” 
“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 
“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 
“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 
Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 
A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 
You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 
Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 
You nodded, “Yes, please.” 
Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 
“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”
Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”
Cass nodded in agreement. 
“We’re just buying training clothes.” 
“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 
You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 
“See?”
Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”
Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 
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When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.
Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 
You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 
The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.
He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 
He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 
The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 
By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.
The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 
When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 
The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.
As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 
You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 
He nodded, walking away to change as well. 
You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 
“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”
You nodded.
“Let’s see it.” 
You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.
Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.
Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”
He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
You nodded. Made sense. 
“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 
You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.
Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 
You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 
This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 
Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 
You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.
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The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.
He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 
And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 
“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 
You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 
You nodded, “How are we doing that?”
He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 
You nodded. 
“Okay… and…. Go!”
You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 
“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 
You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 
They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 
That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 
They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 
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The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 
Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 
Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 
You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.
Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 
Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.
Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 
You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.
Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.
Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.
True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.
Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 
You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.
Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 
You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.
Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’
Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 
Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.
These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.
These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.
And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.
You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.
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