#and bruce wayne is always filthy rich

[mckinlily]

Plot armor but it’s Bruce Wayne’s wealth.

Bruce is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce does not want to be one of the richest men in world.

He starts by implementing high starting salaries and full health care coverages for all levels at Wayne Enterprises. This in vastly improves retention and worker productivity, and WE profits soar. He increases PTO, grants generous parental and family leave, funds diversity initiatives, boosts salaries again. WE is ranked “#1 worker-friendly corporation”, and productively and profits soar again.

Ok, so clearly investing his workers isn’t the profit-destroying doomed strategy his peers claim it is. Bruce is going to keep doing it obviously (his next initiative is to ensure all part-time and contractors get the same benefits and pay as full time employees), but he is going to have to find a different way to dump his money.

But you know what else is supposed to be prohibitively expensive? Green and ethical initiatives. Yes, Bruce can do that. He creates and fund a 10 year plan to covert all Wayne facilities to renewable energy. He overhauls all factories to employ the best environmentally friendly practices and technologies. He cuts contracts with all suppliers that engage in unethical employment practices and pays for other to upgrade their equipment and facilities to meet WE’s new environmental and safety requirements. He spares no expense.

Yeah, Wayne Enterprises is so successful that they spin off an entire new business arm focused on helping other companies convert to environmentally friendly and safe practices like they did in an efficient, cost effective, successful way.

Admittedly, investing in his own company was probably never going to be the best way to get rid of his wealth. He slashes his own salary to a pittance (god knows he has more money than he could possibly know what to do with already) and keeps investing the profits back into the workers, and WE keeps responding with nearly terrifying success.

So WE is a no-go, and Bruce now has numerous angry billionaires on his back because they’ve been claiming all these measures he’s implementing are too expensive to justify for decades and they’re finding it a little hard to keep the wool over everyone’s eyes when Idiot Softheart Bruice Wayne has money spilling out his ears. BUT Bruce can invest in Gotham. That’ll go well, right?

Gotham’s infrastructure is the OSHA anti-Christ and even what little is up to code is constantly getting destroyed by Rogue attacks. Surely THAT will be a money sink.

Except the only non-corrupt employer in Gotham city is….Wayne Enterprises. Or contractors or companies or businesses that somehow, in some way or other, feed back to WE. Paying wholesale for improvement to Gotham’s infrastructure somehow increases WE’s profits.

Bruce funds a full system overhaul of Gotham hospital (it’s not his fault the best administrative system software is WE—he looked), he sets up foundations and trusts for shelters, free clinics, schools, meal plans, day care, literally anything he can think of.

Gotham continues to be a shithole. Bruce Wayne continues to be richer than god against his Batman-ingrained will.

Oh, and Bruice Wayne is no longer viewed as solely a spoiled idiot nepo baby. The public responds by investing in WE and anything else he owns, and stop doing this, please.

Bruce sets up a foundation to pay the college tuition of every Gotham citizen who applies. It’s so successful that within 10 years, donations from previous recipients more than cover incoming need, and Bruce can’t even donate to his own charity.

But by this time, Bruce has children. If he can’t get rid of his wealth, he can at least distribute it, right?

Except Dick Grayson absolutely refuses to receive any of his money, won’t touch his trust fund, and in fact has never been so successful and creative with his hacking skills as he is in dumping the money BACK on Bruce. Jason died and won’t legally resurrect to take his trust fund. Tim has his own inherited wealth, refuses to inherit more, and in fact happily joins forces with Dick to hack accounts and return whatever money he tries to give them. Cass has no concept of monetary wealth and gives him panicked, overwhelmed eyes whenever he so much as implies offering more than $100 at once. Damian is showing worrying signs of following in his precious Richard’s footsteps, and Babs barely allows him to fund tech for the Clocktower. At least Steph lets him pay for her tuition and uses his credit card to buy unholy amounts of Batburger. But that is hardly a drop in the ocean of Bruce’s wealth. And she won’t even accept a trust fund of only one million.

Jason wins for best-worst child though because he currently runs a very lucrative crime empire. And although he pours the vast, vast majority of his profits back into Crime Alley, whenever he gets a little too rich for his tastes, he dumps the money on Bruce. At this point, Bruce almost wishes he was being used for money laundering because then he’s at least not have the money.

So children—generous, kindhearted, stubborn till the day they die the little shits, children—are also out.

Bruce was funding the Justice League. But then finances were leaked, and the public had an outcry over one man holding so much sway over the world’s superheroes (nevermind Bruce is one of those superheroes—but the public can’t know that). So Bruce had to do some fancy PR trickery, concede to a policy of not receiving a majority of funds from one individual, and significantly decrease his contributions because no one could match his donations.

At his wits end, Bruce hires a team of accounts to search through every crinkle and crevice of tax law to find what loopholes or shortcuts can be avoided in order to pay his damn taxes to the MAX.

The results are horrifying. According to the strictest definition of the law, the government owes him money.

Bruce burns the report, buries any evidence as deeply as he can, and organizes a foundation to lobby for FAR higher taxation of the upper class.

All this, and Wayne Enterprises is happily chugging along, churning profit, expanding into new markets, growing in the stock market, and trying to force the credit and proportionate compensation on their increasingly horrified CEO.

Bruce Wayne is one of the richest men in the world. Bruce Wayne will never not be one of the richest men in the world.

But by GOD is he trying.

#batman #bruce wayne #laws of this dc universe say Gotham is always a hellcity #and bruce wayne is always filthy rich #bruce wayne is fighting with everything he has against both those facts #he’s not going to win #but he’s not going to stop either #bruce crying with fistfuls of money in his hands: take it. PLEASE #the public: donate more???

[i-cant-sing]

I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

-

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd

[floralcyanidee]

ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)

When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth

word count: 5254

author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.

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MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC

One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though. 

You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.

“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”

Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”

“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.

“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.

“Hmm. Alright, then.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.

“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.

You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.

“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.

“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”

“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”

You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.

“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.

“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”

“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone. 

“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.

“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.

“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”

You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels. 

“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.

“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”

You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”

Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”

Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”

“And why are you here, exactly?” 

“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”

“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.

“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.

“You better be glad there are people around or-”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.

“I’d fucking break you right here.”

“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”

You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”

“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”

Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-

“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.

“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”

Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”

You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”

“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.

You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”

If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. 

“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him. 

“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”

You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.

“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.

“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.

“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.

“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”

Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”

“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”

Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.

“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.

“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”

“What do you think they mean?”

“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”

You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband. 

“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”

Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”

You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”

You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic. 

Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”

Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”

You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life. 

“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.

“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.

You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure. 

“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”

“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.

Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”

“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.

Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.

You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.

“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.

You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.

“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.

You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.

“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.

“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.

“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.

Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense. 

“You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.

Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.

You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints. 

“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”

Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks. 

“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face. 

It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved. 

“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.

“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”

You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch. 

“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”

You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.

“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”

Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation. 

“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.

You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue. 

“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”

You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.

You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.

“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.

You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.

Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him. 

“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.

You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce. 

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.

He doesn’t look at you or respond.

“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.

“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”

Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”

“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness. 

“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.

Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan. 

“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.

“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out. 

Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.

“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”

Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce. 

“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”

Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.

“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”

Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.

“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”

Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back. 

“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.

Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.

“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”

Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.

“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.

“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.

Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.

You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.

“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.

“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”

“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.

“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”

You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.

“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

taglist:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader smut #christian bale #christian bale x reader #christian bale x reader smut #christian bale smut #bruce wayne x reader x jonathan crane #bruce wayne x reader x jonathan crane smut #batman #batman begins #floralcyanide writes

[zaceouiswriting]

The favorite Bat-Brother?

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Brother!Male Reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Slight Brutality

The warm summer sun shone on the beautiful world. On a day like this, you would usually have been sitting by the pool or challenging your brothers to a water fight, but instead, you were in the garage working on your car to distract yourself from what you saw the day before. 

To say you were heartbroken would be an understatement. For the first time in your life, you cried. You had felt like a schoolgirl as you stormed through the front door of your home and cried your heart out. On your way to the room, you ignored your brothers' and even Alfred's pleas to talk, but you couldn't speak. Since then, you've been ignoring everyone, whether, in your bedroom or the garage, you always had your headphones on.

So it was no wonder someone tapped you or, in this case, gently kicked your leg. That alone let you know who it was, and that didn't help your terrible mood.

As you rolled your board down, on which you went under the car, the light was blinding, but you, thankfully, didn't have to get used to it because Damian came to stand over you, blocking the light. He looked moody as always, but that day he seemed strange. Suddenly, he motioned for you to take out your earbuds, which you did, only for him to squad next to you.

“Do you remember Alek? The tall black-haired one? The one who models part-time?” Damian asked you casually. But his words broke your heart even more.

“You mean my boyfri- sorry, ex-boyfriend?”

“Whatever,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. But before you could tell him to fuck off if he wanted to make fun of you, he suddenly took your hand and played with your longer fingers. It could only mean one thing: he had done something he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

"What happened? Did he do something to you? Do I have to punch him?"

Damian looked at you questioningly, as you both knew that as the only pacifist in the Bat Family, you wouldn't do that. Still, it made Damian smile.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him suspiciously because his questionable words made you feel uneasy.

“Someone got to his car last night, you know, the red sports car, where he cheated on you with this blonde girl. That someone scratched his car paint and broke his windows with a crowbar.”

You were stunned, unable to speak, and not knowing what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful, but on the other, you were afraid that he might get negatively involved with the law, even though your family is filthy rich. However, Damian had taken your silence strangely as he was fiddling with something in his pocket while, at the same time, moving nervously and still playing with your hand. You didn't know whether he was excited or nervous.

But since you still hadn't said anything after a few minutes, Damian took his hand out of his pocket, placed it in your open palm, and dropped something into it. As he pulled his hand back, you saw something small that looked vaguely like a small pebble. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When you raised your gaze again, words were on the tip of your tongue, but when you looked at Damian's nervous face, your throat tightened.

Nothing was said for a moment, but when your eyes finally met, you saw the fear in his green orbs, letting you know you had to say something.

“What is the meaning of this?” You asked him quietly. “Why did you give me a pebble?”

Damian shrugged. "When I destroyed the dickhead's car, he was there too," he finally confessed. “He won’t be doing any more photo shoots anytime soon,” he continued cryptically. “Unfortunately, he was with a gang I was hunting for a while.”

You were stunned. Up until that point, you thought no one cared. You were always quiet and often felt left out of place. Unlike the others, you couldn't hurt a fly. At least not yet, even though you're Bruce's blood son, just like Damian. Although it didn't matter to you, all four boys were your brothers. You still looked after them, helped them when they were sick or injured, lent them an ear or your strength, whatever they needed. But all the brotherly love was never reciprocated. It was the very first time one of your brothers did something for you. And it was the baby brother of all people.

“Why?” You could only ask before a lump in your throat stopped you from making another sound.

Damian rolled his eyes again as if the whole thing was a nuisance to him, even though you knew better now. “I couldn’t hear you crying at night. You know our rooms are next to each other. I hear everything that happens,” he spoke the last part exasperatedly.

“But-„

Damian groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes so hard he bobbed his head. "Can you just accept it and not make a big deal about it?" His voice was just as annoyed as the rest of his demeanor.

At this point, you could only nod, still in a strange trance. You were sure that this had to be a dream because it couldn't be real life. Damian had gotten up again and was about to leave. But after a few steps, he stopped.

Damian was always the easiest for you to read, so you knew he was reluctant to say something. But as you knew him, he would turn around once to make a decision. And just as you thought, he did just that. Meeting your eyes, you could see his body tensing and then hopelessly deflating.

“It’s not a pebble,” he admitted strangely. Your face contorted in confusion. “It’s a tooth.”

“What?” you asked, confused. Your eyes fell on your hand. “Whose tooth is that?”

“Shouldn’t you remember that?" He asked you dryly. "You tongued it several times in the lounge,” Damian told you, suddenly teasing with a sideways smirk. Only to have his face scrunch up in realization and disgust. You could only laugh.

“And why is there red...color? I believe?"

"Oh." Damian suddenly became more sheepish. “Well, I accidentally broke the idiot’s tooth on his car. Even though I had already destroyed it before when I found the tooth, I took it and scratched it further in front of the dickhead's face, but just to be safe, I followed with a knife."

Damian tried to remain casual, but you could see a spark of pride in his glimmering eyes. At that moment, all you could feel was the same thing: Pride. With a speed that not even your battle-hardened little brother could comprehend, you stood up, scooped him into your arms, and swept him off his feet. You spun in circles, laughing as you watched Damian try not to smile.

“What did I do to deserve a little brother like you?”

You slowly stopped spinning until you placed him back on the ground. Only then did you see the blush growing on his pale cheeks. You nudged him and asked what was wrong with him. He didn't want to talk, so you laid your hand on his little head and ruffled his hair. You told him everything was fine, not wanting to overwhelm him further. You turned to your car but stopped when you heard a whisper behind you.

"What?" you asked, chuckling in delight.

“Because I love you,” Damian whispered again, but this time you heard it. When you saw him look away, his ears glowing red and tears in his eyes, your heart melted. It made you wonder if your brother had always been this cute or if this was a recent development.

Once again, you were in front of your brother before he could react. You pulled him close, his head barely reaching your chest. Tears quickly wet your dirty shirt. It was the first time he had shown real feelings towards someone. You couldn't bear to say a word, so you petted his head instead.

For minutes, the two of you stood there silently, enveloped in each other's warmth. Only when a lightness befalls the atmosphere did you dare to speak.

“And I love you too, little bird,” you whispered in return with a big smile. “And from today, I break my neutrality! You’re my favorite now!”

“Really?” he asked quickly, looking up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were even redder than before.

Instead of saying anything else, you kissed the top of his head, ruffled his hair again, and turned away, only to burst into silent tears. You just couldn't let him see you like this, you were still sore from the heartache you had just endured.

***

Damian took it as a sign to leave, but not before hugging you from behind, giving you a tissue, and running away. He went outside and walked back to the main house from the back. When he went back into the main living room, he found Jason and Dick there. He didn't care that they saw him in this mess. Instead, a devilish grin crossed his face.

Both older brothers looked questioningly at the boy, who they believed was the devil reincarnated.

“I’m his favorite!” he announced proudly. His two older brothers looked at him stunned. Then they looked at each other, wondering where Damian had come from. At the same time, something clicked within them. They both stood up simultaneously.

“You liar!” they shouted, not angry but more panicked.

"What did you threaten him with?" Jason asked further through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on the little boy.

Damian shrugged. "I just helped him get rid of a little sadness by beating up his ex," he told them, equally proud. He bathed in their stupid looks before he started whistling and walked away completely relaxed.

The information left the two older brothers speechless, thinking you didn't like brutality. But maybe they had the wrong idea.

Dick jabbed his elbow into Jason's side with a mischievous grin, and when their eyes met again, he couldn't hold it back any longer. “I told you we should have done it ourselves!”

Jason mumbled something incomprehensible before leaving. Dick never thought the other one would be the soft one since he prevented them both by going after your ex, but he had a feeling another chance would soon open up. After all, you're handsome, intelligent, and a Wayne. There are other fish in the sea for you. Maybe, if he finds your future husband, he may finally become your favorite, everything he ever wanted to be. And all your brothers fought about. Only now the war has really begun.

[Masterlist]

#damian wayne #male reader #x male reader #dc x male reader #dick grayson #jason todd #batfam #dc #fluff #sad #heartbreak #bat brothers

[ao3feed-superbat]

play me 'til your fingers bleed

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/WCSXDGp by BisforBread Batman was right, as always. He’d let his prejudice against the filthy rich cloud his judgment because he is on a rooftop in the middle of the night, speechless. And Bruce Wayne is in front of him, crying. --- Bruce Wayne is hit with a truth spell. Clark Kent learns more about this untouchable billionaire than he ever imagined. Words: 1719, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 5 of My Darling, My Dearest, My Heart Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Love Confessions, Truth Spells, Mutual Pining, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Clark Kent Loves Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Loves Clark Kent, Identity Reveal, Angst with a Happy Ending read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/WCSXDGp

#ao3feed #superbat #world's finest #Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

[gaypirate420]

Tell me three songs from Nirvana // Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne x male!reader.

Part 2 of homophobic.

Summary: Bruce takes the first step.

A/N: this doesn't follow canon, this is going to be fluffy and funny as possible.

Bruce stared at the screen of his phone.

He has seen your story at least 5 times now, not knowing what to do, respond to it? If yes, what should he tell you? That you look handsome?.

Or maybe just hearth it, but that won't make you talk to him.

He sighed.

He was a fool for thinking you were going to actually dm him.

Should he make the first step?

He looked at the picture once again and he finally knew what to say.

"Nice shirt"

You looked at your phone while you brushed El Gato, one of many of Selina's cats.

You didn't pay attention to the message, everyday you have men responding your stories.

Holy shit that's Bruce Wayne.

You let El Gato down and grabbed your phone immediatly, shaking your hands with emotion, you took a deep breath.

"Okay!Um, what do I do?!" You asked to the kitten, he looked at you and started liking his paw.

"Meow"

"Right, so wise as always" You said, you double tapped his message.

"Thanks :)"

Bruce looked at his phone again, his eyes shifted quickly from the screen to Alfred.

"Do you need something, Master Bruce?" The older man asked, Bruce shake his head and tried to hide his embarrassment.

"What's your favorite song of them?"

God, he is so embarrassing, is that how you even speak english? Should he delete the message? He sounded like an old man.

"Oh never heard them, besides that song I put on my story, lmao, Do you like Nirvana?"

You were shaking, why were you shaking? He is Bruce Wayne, your chances are low, he probably has like a thousand message requests telling him how cute he is and marriage proposals.

Selina opened the door of the apartment.

"Why are you so happy about, pretty boy?" She asked putting the bag of groceries on the table.

"BRUCEWAYNETEXTEDME" You said quickly, Selina looked at you.

"Yes, it's my favorite band"

"ANDHELIKESNIRVANA" You said looking up.

"Did you really send Bruce Wayne a message?" She asked, you giggle.

"Better! He messaged me!" You said excited.

"What's your favorite band?"

You looked at your phone, Selina only rolled her eyes but still had a smile on her face.

"My chemical romance"

"I like mcr too, I used to go to every concert I could"

Bruce smiled at the memory of trying to explain Alfred what MCR was and how much he needed to attend the concert.

"Oh my god?" You said low, El Gato jumped to your lap.

"Ayo? Mister Wayne You used to be an emo????"

Bruce chuckled softly, Alfred looked at him from above his newspaper, the older man smirks.

Bruce was a little smile on his face.

"Kind of"

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

Hours passed by and Bruce was getting ready to get out and start his shift, he has been talking all day with you.

You sent him a photo, it was you with your make up done, shirtless, and holding a little kitten.

"I'm getting ready for work ;)"

Bruce started at the picture again.

"You look really pretty"

You screamed, Selina peaked inside of your room.

"Are you oka—"

"He said I'm preTTY!" You interrupted her, she rolled her eyes.

"Ugh—" she groaned.

"Seli, baby, support me, I could be Mister Wayne and we'll be filthy rich!" You explained, she chuckled.

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

Batman and Selina stepped inside the apartment again.

You were eating takeout while you watched the TV, you looked at them and waved.

"Hello, Batsy, Hi Catwoman" You said.

"Really?" Selina said, you chuckled.

"Yes! You can't just be Selina or just a nameless girl!" You explained, Batman opened a laptop next to the window.

"But why Catwoman?" She asked.

"Well, you have little cat ears on your hat, like Batsy has the bat on his chest, the little ears, the cape,so he's Batman and now you're Catwoman" You said looking at Batman for support, Selina meets his gaze.

"He has a point." He said softly, you smiled and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh! Batsy! Turns out Bruce Wayne isn't homophobic." You said looking at your phone, re reading the last text he send you.

Batman felt his cheeks warm, you looked so adorable smiling.

"I was right then." Batman said serious, you giggle.

"But is he you know?" You asked arching your eyebrow.

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

A/N: heyyy, so this is part twoooo, took a while I know sorry, hope you like it, I'm really trying to keep it soft.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne #batman x reader #the batman x male reader #the batman x reader #battinson x reader #battinson

[dairy-farmer]

Hi! I love reading your work 😊. I have an idea 😃. Imagine Tim as a gold-digger. He's always been more into being filthy rich with practically no work. He loves being rich!! And then his mommy and daddy die and he can't access the trust-fund until he's 18. He can't handle that!! He's so used to expensive things, he doesn't want to eat cheap frozen meals you heat up in the microwave and drink alcohol from convenience stores!! So he decides, (Jason doesn't die here please 🥺) he's gonna bag a wayne (adoption or boyfriend, either way he is happy.) Or he'll trade his secret for a life of lavish.

no because listen if tim were only SLIGHTLY more selfish a lot of the bad things that happened to him would've never have occurred. tim is a very out-of-the-box thinker with a rich determination and a dedication to seeing things through. if he didn't have such a heart of gold he'd have lived a very different life and honestly tim could've been a very spoiled child (maybe he is in some ways that we don't see?). at 14 both his parents die and he has just enough ingenuity to fake a drafted will in his father's office about an uncle who will care for him. and tim's dad and lawyer had always been very close so even though the will isn't enforceable they put tim in the custody of his 'uncle' rather than the state.

but there is no uncle. and what little money tim found around the house and that he had tucked away will run out.

tim knows he won't survive until 18 with his usual standard of living (if he sticks to cheap boxed mac and drinks filtered water he'll make it but he'd rather DIE than do that).

tim knows he's pretty. he has a cute eyes and a nice voice and while his parents were out of gotham he'd sneak boys back to the house every other day.

tim would pick boys from the 'other side of the tracks' boys fucked hard, fucked fast, and bossed tim around because they loved riding the high of fucking some little future socialite and getting their dirty paws all over them.

gotham academy boys all loved to brag and the last thing tim wanted for the rumor mill to spit out that he was a slut that banged a different boy each week.

what could tim say?

he liked the way cock felt hammering into his little pussy.

tim doesn't mourn his parents in the typical fashion. he's sorry to see them go, he misses them fiercely but at the end of the day they'd never really known tim. and he hadn't known them.

tim was sure if they were still around they'd be in support of his endeavors. they'd always wanted the best for tim. indulged him and provided for him in ways most people could only dream of.

tim knows they loved him. as distant as they may have been. tim knows they wanted to provide for him and make sure he lived and safe and comfortable life, that much was evident from the amount of zeros sitting in a trust for him.

all he had to do to revel in that love was survive until 18 without giving up the life he'd grown used to.

tim was a little spoiled he knew that. you don't get used to the finer things in life and NOT come out a little spoiled.

if anyone could attest to that it was the waynes whose lavish and luxary never failed to astonish even the most seasoned socialite.

waynes.

well now there was an idea.

bruce wayne was still a bachelor. he had a son that lived outside the city that rumors said he was estranged from. he had another son that went to tim's school. jason todd. tim had heard rumors about him, he'd been a hot button topic when he'd been adopted.

but he was also a loner- he didn't even participate in afterschool extracurriculars.

tim has the beginning of a plan of an idea. he's a sad, poor (very poor) little orphan who is only scraping by with the yearly payout to his "uncle" for his care. he's a very pretty, sad little orphan with the best pussy the east of gotham.

tim knows that if his mother and father were around they'd smack him over the head and scold him to high heavens for even thinking of being a good-for-nothing golddigger.

but tim's in a sinking boat.

and if being a good-for-nothing is what we'll get him out of his leaking raft and onto the yacht passing by- he'll do it.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

[rezhood]

But imagine teenage Jason Todd and Jase (Tim) Fox being friends.

Imagine the degeneracy. Imagine the selflessness. Imagine the coming of age. Imagine the pure unconditional love of two genuine friends who don’t have anyone else. Tim/ Jase the always rich kid that can’t help but feel sympathy to the disenfranchised, to the point he feels drawn to counter culture despite being sheltered from it his whole life. Then Jason who’s just gone from dirt poor to filthy rich over night and he can’t seem to relate to anyone around him anymore. Imagine if they had been friends. Imagine them being absolute menaces at school. They play fight but it just turns into genuine sparing. They race their bikes so fast it gives Lucius an absolute heart attack the first time he sees. Tim is constantly asking to learn fighting moves from Jason, which Bruce isn’t thrilled about but Jason promises not to teach him anything too crazy. They hang out at the library and Jason is the only person who can get Tim to study. Tim is the only person who can get Jason to socialize. They would have joined the recycling club. They would have made police offers cry. They annoy the hell out of their older brothers. Bruce and Lucius make the mistake of leaving them alone at Wayne tower during a board meeting and when they got out the boys had created go carts out of scraps they found in the lab. They’re racing in an empty conference room. They’re in so much trouble. They fight each others dads almost as much as they fight their own. Then when Jason and Bruce start having real issues Tim screams at Bruce and gets banned from the manor. Bruce didn’t actually intend for it to be a permanent thing, but Lucius is so concerned for Tim getting too close to the vigilante stuff he sends him to boarding school. Jason goes to Ethiopia. Tim changes his name to Jase in memorial. They both start down their own warpaths. Years later the two of them meet again only to realize they’ve developed into incompatible people. Childhood friends who can never be close again, not in the way they were.

#fluff and angst #jason todd #tim fox #Jase fox #dc comics #Bruce Wayne #lucius fox #dc headcanons #oh my prodigal sons #future state isn’t enough I need middle school photos of them

[failedcrown]

SHE’S MADE UP LIKE a one trick pony. The second strongest supe in the world, and she can’t even pick out her own goddamn lipstick. The one deemed acceptable by Vought matches the muted red hue of her hair, which falls in its trademark curls across her shoulders. Her armor feels more like a costume these days, but she wears it proudly anyways, thankful as fuck not to have to slip into a backless dress that teases the crack of her ass. She walks around the gala with a shit-eating grin because anything less doesn’t sign her paychecks. Her fingers are always wrapped around the stem of a cocktail glass, one that she could shatter so easily if she felt like it. But that wouldn’t sign her checks either. Smile, nod, and drink. That’s her motto. She drinks this cocktail and then another, the truth being that she can only stand to be herself these days when she’s pumped with alcohol. It’s heavy on her breath. 

She’s working the room so much that it takes several moments for her to find her actual target. Bruce fucking Wayne. The billionaire who’s gonna make Vought even more filthy rich. Does he know how much blood will be on his hands? Does he care? She seriously doubts it, and frankly, she’s not in any position to judge him. She takes their money, too. 

She walks over to Mr. Wayne, grin plastered on glossy lips. ❛ So, I hear you finally made a deal with the devil. ❜ Not exactly what Vought had scripted her to say to their newest partner in crime, but it will have to do. 

@chauvesourisnoire​​

#chauvesourisnoire #Main Arc 1 / We find death in our magnificence. #Writing / i hate the blubbering speeches.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

play me 'til your fingers bleed

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/SnRBatm by BisforBread Batman was right, as always. He’d let his prejudice against the filthy rich cloud his judgment because he is on a rooftop in the middle of the night, speechless. And Bruce Wayne is in front of him, crying. --- Bruce Wayne is hit with a truth spell. Clark Kent learns more about this untouchable billionaire than he ever imagined. Words: 1719, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 5 of My Darling, My Dearest, My Heart Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Love Confessions, Truth Spells, Mutual Pining, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Clark Kent Loves Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Loves Clark Kent, Identity Reveal, Angst with a Happy Ending read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/SnRBatm

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the caped crusader #the dark knight #dcu #ao3 #ao3feed

[caesartrinity119]

I WONDER WHY BRUCE WAYNE IS SOOOO FILTHY RICH ... AND CARES NOTHING ABOUT THE PEOPLE AT HIS PARTY... EVER ... HE ALWAYS WALKS AROUND THEM ... HE ALWAYS TRIES TO GET AWAY

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈

Yandere Dick Grayson x GN Reader

❥ Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: Wanted to write a platonic older brother Dick Grayson story, but depicting his spiral into yandere-hood. Tumblr can’t handle my swag AO3-length writing, so multiple parts it is!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: platonic sibling yandere content, older brother Dick Grayson, younger sibling reader, non-vigilante reader, adopted reader, slow burn yandere(?), the pacing is very a-day-in-the-life-esque, kind-of stalking, unsettling build-up, Dick isn’t a full-blown yandere yet, starting off tame, biblically accurate Batfam, CLIFF HANGER!!

❥ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃.

Richard Grayson didn’t really like you.

He never told you outright, but you knew. It was painfully obvious during your initial meeting (one that was “long overdue,” according to Bruce), back when Alfred dropped you off at his Blüdhaven apartment with all your belongings. Though he offered a welcoming smile with complimentary dimples, something dark swirled in his sapphire eyes, a stony cold stare contrasting with his warm greeting of, “nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t know that much about Richard Grayson, other than his role as your pseudo older brother (and the fact that he was Robin, and now Nightwing, but you were still wrapping your head around the idea of your filthy rich adoptive father being fucking Batman, so… there’s not much you could say on that). He seemed friendly enough in all the gala interviews you’ve seen, but you were starting to realize to not take someone’s press persona as gospel: after all, Bruce Wayne seems much more put together in front of the cameras than he does in the manor. So, while unsettling, you couldn’t say you were too surprised by this official first impression.

Maybe he was just tired, you told yourself. He probably doesn’t get much sleep, with the whole crime-fighting thing and all.

(Yeah… crime-fighting thing… y’know, cuz your pseudo older brother is Nightwing, and your filthy rich adoptive father is fucking Batman.)

However, after getting all your things settled into his spare bedroom — Alfred being a big help, as he always was — you were getting the sense that your gut intuition was right; Richard Grayson didn’t really like you at all. He may have acted all cordial, giving you a tour of his apartment and making polite jokes, but as soon as Alfred left and he excused himself to make a phone call in his room, his true feelings on your collective predicament became painfully apparent, as thin walls did nothing to hold in his heated argument with Bruce.

“B, why the hell are you doing this to me?! ……. No, they’re in their room. Getting all their stuff settled in right now. ……. I know I did, but now that they’re here, I just—!! ……. No, they’ve been okay so far, it’s just— come on, B, I know you’re an empty-nester, but if you weren’t ready to take in a kid, why’d you—?! ……. Really? So adopting orphans is just a hobby now?! ……. Yeah, and it’s really unfortunate what they’ve gone through, but you can’t just pick up every stray you see, especially if you’re this fucking paranoid about them wanting to—”

This was the only time you could understand Bruce’s response over the phone; “I DON’T WANT ANOTHER DEAD CHILD, DICK.”

… Ah.

There was a beat of silence before Bruce continued, though his softer tone made it impossible to make out what he was saying. He went on and on until Dick sighed. “Bruce, I want them to have a happy home. And, yeah, I sure as hell agree that the manor might not be the best choice, but I’m off doing my own thing just as much as you are. At the very least, Alfred— ……. What would’ve been good for both of you was to not sign the papers in the first place. You’re still healing, and they need someone who can be there for them. ……. No. No, they’re already here. I’ll stay true to my word, B, but they can’t stay here forever; you know that. It’s just not healthy for all of us. ……. Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best. Look, I gotta figure out what I’m gonna make this kid for dinner.”

And then, without a single goodbye exchanged, the call went dead.

So, yeah. Richard Grayson didn’t really like you.

Which was fine. Really, it was. You weren’t even his sibling by law, as you learned from Alfred that Bruce technically never even adopted him, yet here he was being asked to take care of you, a reminder that he can’t escape Bruce Wayne or Batman no matter how hard he tries. While you were still learning the full situation (again, your filthy rich adoptive father is fucking BATMAN), what you already knew didn’t paint a pretty picture. Honestly, you didn’t blame Richard Grayson for being a little spiteful towards you. It did make sense.

You just wish it didn’t make you feel so… unwanted.

“How was school, kiddo?”

A questioning hum was startled from your vocal chords. The car ride had been so silent, you found yourself lost in your own thoughts, almost forgetting that you were buckled into the passenger seat of Richard’s — Dick’s, rather; he told you to call him Dick the day you moved in — older, copper-colored car. After taking a few moments to collect yourself, you threw your temporary guardian a glance only to find he was pointedly staring at you (which was concerning, as he was driving).

“Uh…” your voice faltered a bit, forcing you to cough in your fist. “It was alright.”

His eyes lingered on you for a bit longer before returning to the road ahead. You thought that was the end of the conversation, but then he spoke up again. “Did you learn anything?”

A bit of an awkward thing to ask, but at least he was trying. “Factoring in algebra. And I guess a little about the Mongol Empire.”

“Factoring,” he said with distaste. “Wasn’t a fan of that. Though it didn’t really help that I had the worst algebra teacher. Ended up with a 70 in that class by some miracle.” A small beat of silence. “Do anything fun with friends?”

You grimaced. Though you tried your best not let it show, you knew Dick probably caught it through the rear-view mirror. “I, uh, haven’t made any friends yet.”

“It’s already October,” he skeptically stated with a quirked brow.

“I know. It’s just…” you clutched your book bag closer to your chest. “It was my first day here, so… gotta make new friends.”

“… Oh.”

As much as you wanted to dryly chortle at his reaction, you refrained. It probably wasn’t his fault he didn’t know about being transferred from Gotham to Blüdhaven Academy, since Bruce apparently had a habit of keeping people out of the loop with things. For all you know, Dear Ol’ Daddy Bats just gave Dick an address and said, "drop off at 9, pick up at 3:30," leaving your pseudo-older brother to fill in the blanks from there (“this is an address to a school, so I’m assuming this is where they go to school,” or something like that).

So, all you could do was shrug. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tighten. He seemed to be deliberating on something, eyes burning holes through his windshield as he let out a sigh. “So, guessing you have no one to stay with for the night?”

“Stay with?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean, stay with?”

“Well, I’m gonna be out tonight,” he explained, his tone sounded a bit exasperated. “Can’t just leave you on your own. Do any friends from your old school live near by?”

You were at a loss for words. He wanted you to stay with someone? For the entire night? “Wait, hold on… you just wanna dump me at a friend’s house anytime you do your hero shit—?”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, kiddo, but we’re in Blüdhaven,” he spat at you. “And my apartment isn’t exactly in the nicest part of town.”

“But— it’ll be fine, ‘cuz you have a Bat-level security system,” you protested.

His grip got tighter on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t matter. You’re used to the manor, not street-level crime, kid.”

“I grew up in Gotham,” you retorted. “I’ve known street-level crime way longer than I’ve known the manor.” Before he could say something to that, you beat him to it by following up with, “and besides, all my friends from Gotham live in areas that are just as bad as your apartment. Wasn’t all that popular with the socialite kids with mansions, you know.”

No response for several seconds. Dick’s expression was far from pleasant, and you were starting to worry if you were getting yourself into some sort of trouble. Eventually, however, he let out a frustrated sigh, his cold eyes snapping towards your figure. “You make one hell of an argument, kiddo. But listen. We’ve gotta go over home-alone rules when we’re back to the apartment, alright? I don’t want anything happening to you under my watch.”

“Fine by me,” you shrugged.

The conversation was then dropped.

A small smile started to bloom on your face. He really thought he could rid of you like that, didn’t he? You knew he didn’t really like you, but using it’s not safe as an excuse to a Gothamite? Really? Yeah, that’s a bunch of bogus.

… Though, you had to admit, it was nice that he at least sounded considerate.

You woke up to the sounds of disgruntlement coming from the living area.

It wasn’t too loud, as you couldn’t exactly comprehend what was being said, but it was loud make you realize the disgruntled party was extremely ticked by something. Getting out of bed, you put your ear to the door for better listening.

“I already told you, I can’t. I’ve been leaving this kid home alone far too often for my liking. ……. Where, Roy?! Where can they stay?! Bruce isn’t in the right headspace to have another kid in the manor, and— ow, fuck— it’s not like they have any friends to crash with for the night! ……. Transferred schools. Would’ve been nice if Bruce said something about that, but— ……. Said their Gotham friends live in areas just as bad. Besides, there’s no way in hell I’m letting them step foot back into that hellhole without me being there. ……. ‘Cuz it’s fucking Gotham, Roy! It’s only city in the world that has a death by killer clown statistic!!”

Ah. Another phone call. Dick had been making a lot of those, recently. You never knew who was on the other line, except if it was Bruce or (by rare chance) Alfred, but you had a general idea that it was always one of his super hero friends. Not very many people casually talked about beating up thugs and criminals, after all.

“No— absolutely not. Bruce would be pissed if he found out!! He’d think I’m trying to make them into my sidekick or something, and god knows what happens to them after that. I’ve been through the system, Roy. While I’m not too keen on keeping a kid around, putting them back there is not an option. ……. They’re just— safer in my apartment than anywhere else right now. I can’t have anything happening to them. Not after Jason. Bruce would never forgive me, and I— I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. ……. I’m sorry, Roy. Maybe next time. ……. Yeah. Tell the other Titans I’m thinking about them, okay? ……. Yeah, good luck tonight. Try not to show up on the news. ……. Yup. See you.”

Your ears picked up on a low beep, heralding the end of the call. As Dick let out a string of curses, you couldn’t help but feel… empty. You were more than just a pain in the ass for Dick; you were a full-blown problem. It wasn’t just the fact that you were keeping him from having hero fun. Even if he wasn’t all that fond of you, he still considered you his responsibility, and seemed genuinely worried about your safety when he wasn’t there. You were under the impression that he went out at night to forget you existed, but…

Jason…

Jason was a name you were only vaguely familiar with, usually used as a heavy blow in a Dick v. Bruce argument. While you don’t exactly know the full context, Alfred did make mention once of a kid who lived in Wayne Manor before you (the one who is “no longer with us,” as the butler solemnly said), and upon stumbling into the Batcave by accident, some of the only coherent mutterings he offered were, “Jason,” and “no, not again.”

Again, you didn't know the full context, but it's easy to put together the pieces from there.

A particularly loud curse from the other side of the door brought you back to reality. You at first wondered if you should go out there and make sure your current guardian-figure was okay, but you decided against it, as A.) he was probably just patching himself up from a particularly rough skirmish, and B.) he didn't seem like he was in the mood to see you. Besides, with your thoughts on this Jason kid, you didn't know if you had enough self-control to keep your burning questions locked away on your tongue.

So, instead, you decided to lay back down in your bed, brainstorming ideas to get Dick to talk about Jason.

This was… kind of a terrible way to ask.

Sure, you were curious. The thought had been haunting your thoughts since Bruce’s breakdown, and being out of the loop was slowly eating away at your mind. But maybe you could’ve been less… abrupt… and given Dick a little bit more time to be mentally prepared. It was an extremely sensitive topic, after all, and you knew even he was healing from the aftermath.

You hoped he understood your question wasn’t just morbid curiosity; Jason’s death is in-part the reason you’re here, after all.

Dick stared at you across from the dinner table. His fork had a few pieces of macaroni skewered one the prongs, half-raised to be shoveled into his mouth. Blue eyes stared right through you, blinking owlishly as he presumably tried to process what the fuck you just asked him. All you could do was hunch into yourself in your seat, mentally scolding yourself for how fucking rude your question probably was. Painfully long seconds ticked by with no sort of response, and you eventually decided that the best course of action was to do some preemptive damage control.

“You— actually, you don’t have to answer,” you weakly sputtered. “I’m so sorry, that’s— that was so uncalled for. I’m really sorry, Dick.”

He set his fork down. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… did Bruce not— he never told you?”

You shook your head.

“… Ah,” was his reply. His eyes wandered towards the window, an unreadable expression falling onto his face. He seemed a bit… lost. Which was understandable, as you didn’t exactly give him prep time for a conversation like this. You gave him as much time as he needed to put his thoughts in order.

Finally, he gave an answer. “Killed in action. Ended up in the hands of the Joker, and… well, he didn’t come home. No Robin ever since.”

The flat tone that carved through his words caused your hair to stand on end. He kept the details vague, but you didn’t find yourself minding all that much. If the Joker was involved, it probably wasn’t that much of a lovely story. “So, he was Robin after you?”

A hum of confirmation came from Dick. “The mantle was open, since I took up a new name. After finding out that Bruce was Batman, he practically begged to be trained as Robin.” He slowly brought the fork to his mouth. “That’s what Bruce said, anyway.”

It was then you noticed the silverware rattling from some sort of rhythmic thumping. After a few moments, you realized it was from your knee hitting against the table, causing you to will your legs to stay still. “Um…” you cleared your throat. “Were you… close with Jason?”

“I mean, we were friendly.” He still neglected to make eye contact with you. “I tried to be a good example to him, but I was busy doing my own thing here.” His gaze dropped to the linoleum floor. “Didn’t spend enough time with him.”

A heavy pressure crushed down on your chest. While you didn’t know Jason personally, you were no stranger to the concept of loss, and the more you learned about his death, the more your current situation was starting to make sense. Jason discovered Bruce was Batman. He wanted to be Robin, and Bruce let him. Then he died as Robin. Bruce’s adopted son died on the field, in the costume.

So, after you found out Bruce was Batman… it probably felt all too familiar.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you practically whispered.

Dick only sighed. “It’s alright, kiddo.” Finally, he raised his eyes to look at you. “Say, how are you doing in that chemistry class?”

… Huh?

The abrupt change in subject was… interesting. But definitely understandable, as talking about Jason’s death probably wasn’t all too pleasant. Guilt started to eat away at your conscious, the thought of making Dick uncomfortable by reminding him of his grief and regrets making your heart feel heavy. So, you merely offered a shrug and said, “uh… I’m doing fine.”

“Thought you were having trouble with valence equations,” he mused.

You could only dumbly stare at him. Okay… this was new territory. Sure, he always asked how school was while picking you up, but this was the first time he’s talked about it at dinner. Then again, this is the first time you two have talked at dinner period, since most dinners were spent eating in total silence, so maybe he was just trying to cleanse the awkward air that you created from randomly inquiring about Jason (because you can't do anything right, apparently).

So, ignoring the warmth that swirled in your chest at the thought of him actually caring about your life outside of the polite, seemingly obligatory after-school exchanges, you indulged.

Blüdhaven nights weren’t all that different from Gotham’s. They could get noisy, the sounds of the city mixing together into one cacophony. You’ve learned how to sleep through it all, and it’s not like it’s all high energy for the entire night; around 1 in the morning, there’s a lull in activity that yields little to no sounds to disturb your slumber. Some would even call this hour the most peaceful that places like Gotham and Blüdhaven can get, despite all of the dubious activities that are probably happening.

So, something like the sound of a window sliding opening is enough to disturb this peace.

It was your window. It sounded like it was right in your room, so it had to be your window. You stayed as petrified as a statue in your bed, the fog of sleepiness immediately airing out of your brain from your nervous system screaming, holy shit, someone is opening my window. Well, maybe, if you continued to stay still, they wouldn’t recognize the obvious lump in the bed, take whatever the fuck they wanted, and be on their merry way. With any luck, Dick was done doing his hero shit, and the unfortunate sap breaking into the apartment would have a run-in with Nightwing.

That’s when a your bed began to creak from a new weight being added to it.

… Ah, shit.

You didn’t move. There was no way in hell you were moving. Even if the intruder seemingly knew you were there, you could do nothing else but stay stagnant in place, waiting for them to make the next move. Maybe, if they touch you, you could swing your arm to hit them and catch them by surprise. That might give you enough time to run, find Dick’s room, and pray to god he’s home. If not, then you could at least lock yourself in his room and hold out until he does.

Your thoughts were cut short when a familiar voice rang out.

“You didn’t lock your window.”

… That bastard—!!

Relief crashed through your body like a tidal wave. A heavy breath tumbled out of your lips — one that you didn’t even know you were holding in — which alleviated the growing pressure in your chest. Now that you could feel your limbs again, you willed away the shiver that wanted to travel through your body as you turned to face this so-called intruder. “Kind of an unconventional way to come home, don’t you think?”

Your eyes met the pearly white lenses of a domino mask. The shadowy figure sitting on your bed had his arms crossed over the unmistakable azure symbol of Nightwing, which, oddly enough, had an intriguing iridescent shimmer under the moonlight. Huh… none of the cameras really pick up that detail, you mentally noted, glancing back and forth between the contrast of matte black and shiny blue. You were no professional superhero costume critic, but it was a nice little touch.

Dick’s tired sigh snapped you out of your thoughts. It was a grim reminder that — oh, yeah — you’re about to get chewed out by your vigilante kind-of-older-brother… at an ungodly hour. “Kid,” he began, the chastising tone you were becoming more and more acquainted with lacing every word, “you can’t keep forgetting to lock everything like that. What if I was some crook, or kidnapper, or worse?”

“Good thing it was just Nightwing coming through my window to give me a heart attack,” you humorlessly mused.

Though you couldn’t see underneath the mask, you knew he was giving you that one unamused stare you’re all too familiar with. “(Y/N), I’m serious. This is about your safety, your life, even. If something bad happens while I’m out, I won’t be able to protect you. For god’s sake, kid. I could be on the other side of Blüdhaven while you’re getting taken, or murdered, or whatever!!” He took a moment to heave another sigh. “Just… promise me you’ll lock your window next time, alright? Please.”

All you could do was wordlessly nod. After taking some time to process what he was saying, you admittedly felt bad. He was right; neglecting to lock your window like that could very well mean death in Blüdhaven. It’s not like growing up in Gotham is any different, so you knew this fact very well. Maybe your time at the manor caused you to become less careful, as it’s unlikely any criminals are hitting up the Wayne residence anytime soon; and it’s not like any of them know about the Bat-level security, either.

A springy click echoed through your room, and you looked up to see Dick inspecting your window (you’ve long stopped questioning how he just teleports like that). After deeming it to be safe, he softly padded towards your door. His hand was on the knob, but he seemed a bit hesitant to turn it. Then, almost as an afterthought, he looked at you over his shoulder and said, “goodnight, kiddo.”

“… Goodnight,” you mumbled.

He was out the door.

Click.

Now alone in your room, you could finally replay what just happened. Dear Big Bro Dickybird just gave you the scare of a lifetime, chastised you about being irresponsible, and left to assumingly go to bed (though you’re not sure if that man actually sleeps or not). The conversation — well, more like lecture — played in your mind, repeating on loop like a broken record… because of course your mind wanted to make you feel guiltier than you already did.

That’s when something weird stuck out to you.

“You can’t keep forgetting to lock everything like that.”

… Keep?

As far as you knew, that was your first time actually forgetting…

So... how did he know?

Thwack.

Before you could even begin to register whatever the fuck just hit your forehead, a teasingly dry voice rang out from above. “Your handwriting really sucks, y'know."

With furrowed brows to showcase your confusion, you forced yourself to sit upright on the couch. A small notepad fell from your chest to the floor, the pages sprawled out from the metal spiral to reveal your list of things you wanted from the store. “I was writing fast,” you grumbled.

"Sure you were," cooed Dick with a less-than-friendly smirk. He then cocked his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest. "Wanted a change of scenery or something?"

You felt your face scrunch up. "What does that mean?"

"You usually watch your dumb little YouTube videos in your room," he explained. "Not sprawled out on my couch."

Honestly, you weren't even going to question how he knew that. Maybe it was that dumb Bat-detective intuition, or the fact that you probably need to start turning the volume on your phone down a notch (thin walls, remember?). Rolling your eyes, you situated yourself so that you were once again lounging comfortably on the couch. "Trying to tell me something, bucko?"

"Yeah, actually." Before you knew it, you were being ripped away from the cushions, an indignant yelp leaving your lips as you dangled mid-air from your legs. You had to adjust to your new upside-down view in order to throw Dick an incredulous glare. The bastard merely offered a shit-eating grin, simply stating, "get off my couch."

"... Could've just told me that," you spat out.

He began to walk you out of the living room. "You wouldn't of listened."

"Wha-- I totally would've!"

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Whatever retort you wanted to throw at him dissolved into a heavy OOMF as he dropped you onto the floor. You found yourself glaring up at him once more as he swiped invisible dust off of his hands, giving you a champion smirk before heading back in the living. You managed to orient yourself into an awkward squat just in time to see him confidently throw himself into the couch cushions.

That asshole just kicked you out of your spot.

You were not about to let that slide.

With an animalistic yell, you began to gallop — yes, gallop; it was a weird mix of running and crawling, as you were already on the floor — at him full speed. He barely had time to react to your charge (as you victoriously noted from his surprised OOF as you pounced on him), and within seconds, the both of you were locked into a fight to the death. Dick might've had the upper hand when it came to combat technique, but what you lacked in experience, you made up in dedication as you tried your damned hardest to push him off of the couch.

"Hey," he wheezed out. "Quit it, you little freak!!"

"You quit it," was your breathy reply. "I was here first!!"

"But it's my couch!!"

"Didn't see you using it!!"

"Just 'cuz I was getting your dumbass groceries!!"

"You were out for a whole-ass hour!!"

Despite giving it your all, the battle was beginning to turn against you as Dick managed to wrestle your upper body between his forearm and bicep. He eventually managed to pin your viciously kicking legs under his arm, and looking back on it, the scene probably looked reminiscent of a zookeeping holding down a trashing crocodile. This didn't deter you however, as you began to gnaw at his forearm, drawing a sound of disgust from your captor. "I had to spend, like, 30 minutes trying to decipher your shit handwriting," he scoffed. "Now can you just accept defeat and stop biting me!?"

You tried to respond with something along the lines of, "not until you give me my spot back," but it came out as garbled nonsense with your mouth full of his forearm. He aggressively told you to repeat yourself (probably under the pretense that you were giving him some major lip), and during the time you relieved his skin of your teeth to say something much worse than you initially did, a cheerful little tune began to play from Dick's pocket.

"... Hold that thought," he murmured.

Respectfully, you kept still and allowed him to use one of his hands to fish his phone out of his hoodie (you thought about using this as an opportunity to escape, but that would go against the unspoken rules of battle). He squinted his eyes to read the caller ID, only to heave a frustrated groan. “Bruce,” he curtly informed you. You were about to ask if he wanted some privacy, when he suddenly released you from his hold and sent you careening towards the ground. So, taking that as an answer, you scrambled off of the floor and headed towards your room, phone somehow materializing in your hand in the process.

From your room, the call sounded so faint.

… Maybe the walls weren’t as thin as you initially thought they were.

You let out a jet of hot air through your teeth. “The hell is taking him so long?”

The time was 3:50, but Dick’s old car was nowhere to be seen in your school’s parking lot. You shot hit a text 5 minutes ago that has yet to be read, and if you were being honest, you were more anxious than annoyed. Dick was never late to pick-up. Late to drop-off, sure (there was one time you showed up to school at 11:25 due to him sleeping in from a late-night drug bust, and you got the pleasure of making up an embarrassing excuse at the expense of Dick’s pride to the front office), but never pick-up.

So, this meant one of two things; he’s finally forgotten about you, or there’s an emergency.

Just as you were debating on checking the local news, your phone buzzed in your hand, screen lighting up to reveal a message from Bastard. You could feel your apprehension melting away as you unlocked your phone to read his message:

robbery going on

… Ah. That explains the spike in police siren activity going on around you.

You were about to shoot him a classic, “what the fuck” text, but his typing bubble popped up. After a second, another message followed:

gonna be late

Okay, now you decided to send your, “what the fuck.”

The read status under your text didn’t show up until a few minutes later (because that’s what you needed in this moment; more anxiety), and he immediately got to typing.

sorry kiddo

stay put

be there in a sec

Your shaky fingers managed to type him a message along the lines of, “be careful, good luck,” which was left unread by him. A snake of apprehension began to squeeze at your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. You had to force yourself to suck in a good bit of air to calm your nerves. Maybe he was just busy kicking some ass, that’s all. He’s stopping a whole-ass robbery from happening, so it’s not like he can keep up with your messages. Besides, he told you he would be there “in a sec,” so he’s probably wrapping everything up now.

Calm down, (Y/N), you scolded yourself. Your brother is Nightwing. He’ll be fine.

That’s when you witnessed an explosion light up the sky.

It was distant, but big enough to send a low rumble through the ground. You watched in absolute horror as the violent orange and yellow dissipated from behind the cityscape, leaving an inky trail of smoke behind as its calling card. More and more sirens of different origins — police, fire, ambulance — were overlapping in a terrible harmony, though it was hard to process from the brazen ringing in your ears, clogging your brain out from the outside world.

Oh, shit.

What if that was—?!

You desperately fumbled with your phone, unlocking it to reveal your still unread message to Dick. You were hoping for some sort of sorry about that text, or at the very least to see his typing bubble, but you were met with radio silence. Apprehension became pure fear when your thoughts began to race. Something bad happened to Dick. There’s no way in hell an explosion happened coincidentally, so something bad just happened.

Not good, not good, not good at all…!!

It took longer than you wanted to get your fingers to type something:

Dick??

Dick, you okay??

I saw that, are you okay??

Dick??

Dick??

… Nothing.

You resorted to calling him.

… Beeeeeeeeep…

… Beeeeeeeeep…

… Beeeeeeeeep…

“Come on,” you muttered. “Come on, come on, come on, pick up—!!”

… Beeeeeeeep…

…

“Hey, you’ve reached the voice mail of Dick Grayson, just shoot me a text and I’ll—”

You hung up.

This was bad. This was so bad. Something bad is happening, and you’re not even sure if Dick’s okay. Hell, you saw how big that explosion was. Is he even fucking alive?!

You couldn’t help but utter a watery, “no…”

You’re not going through this again.

Without a second to spare, your legs began to carry you forward in a full sprint. You weren’t exactly sure where the explosion went off, and it’s not like you’re all that familiar with Blüdhaven just yet to know where any possible candidates for a robbery could be, but you followed the smoke pillars like a beacon, gauging how close you were based on the surrounding sirens. People stood like statues on the sidewalks to ogle at evidence of destruction wafting through the sky, and no cars dared to run you over as you cut through the streets.

“Come on, Dick,” you said between huffs. “Please— please be okay..!!”

He had to be okay.

You couldn’t lose someone else in your life.

#❥ TW: YANDERE #❥ LIFE WITH OLDER BROTHER #❥ YANDERE CHARACTER #❥ PLATONIC YANDERE #❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON #❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON X READER

[itsnothappening]

an...interesting reunion | timinette

Word Count: +1.5k

summary: tim and marinette attend marinette's class reunion.

ao3 | wattpad | masterlist | prompts

part 2

Marinette Drake sighed and stared at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a black dress paired with heels of the same colour.

”I think you look amazing bean,” her husband Timothy Drake-Wayne said, coming up from behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, said.

Marinette smiled. Tim could always make her smile. “Thanks Tim, but it doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.” She was going to be attending her collége reunion a.k.a the class (with the exception of Kim, Alix, Max, Nino, Sabrina, & Chloe) which abandoned her when the next, new shiny thing came, the class that bullied her relentlessly for one year until she transferred out. Marinette took in a shaky breath.

Tim, sensing her nervousness, soothingly ran his hand up and down her back. “It’s going to be fine bean, besides, remember why we’re going?“ A wicked smile crossed his lips. “We’re going to see how your idiotic former-friends have failed in life.”

Marinette grinned at that. “You’re right. Let’s go.” She grabbed her black clutch and together, they walked into the limousine they had borrowed from Bruce for the effect.

◇─◇──◇─◇

When they entered François College Dupont, everyone of Bustier’s stopped talking to stare at them - or more specifically, the limo that had just stopped at the steps. It was far more impressive than the ones Adrien used to come into for school. This one was much larger and much more intimidating. Who they saw coming out shocked all the students of the class with the exception of Chloe, Nino, Kim, Alix, Max, and Sabrina who knew exactly who it was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng walked out with some man holding her hand. The former class of Ms Bustier was stupefied, including said teacher. They couldn’t believe the bully - in their minds, of course - of their class was filthy rich. ◇─◇──◇─◇

Alya Césaire was not happy. First, Lila Agreste (ha! Take that Maribrat!) promised to send Lois Lane a request for an internship in the Daily Planet. But after 3 weeks of hours of waiting, Lila comes back, with tears pouring down her face and says “I’m so sorry Alya! I tried asking Lois to give you one, but she was so, so rude to me and said no.” Alya hugged and comforted her, because Lila didn’t deserve to be treated that way. So, Alya applied for an internship in the Daily Planet so that she could 1) get a job (money was running low) and 2) become a better reporter than Lois Lane herself, to spite her, of course. But when she got her reply with her portfolio (mind you, which included her blog, the Ladyblog, which was now mostly about Lila’s latest exploits), it said “You are unfit to become a reporter, let alone an investigative one.” And that was only a few weeks ago. She was lucky she didn’t quit her current job. Now, Maribrat was living in luxury?

◇─◇──◇─◇

Mylène and Ivan Bruel were severely annoyed. They were failing miserably. After graduation, they had gotten married with most of their classmates present, but after that things had gone downhill. Their idols were absolute jerks. When Lila, sweet Lila, asked for just one favour, they refused her and kicked her out. After everything she had even done for them! And now, poor Lila had to endure her bully coming to their class reunion.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Rose and Juleka Couffaine were miserable. Nothing was going their way. All of Lila’s connections had gone down the drain when she promised to help them get the jobs of their dreams and then Prince - now King - Ali cut off all ties with them for “slandering his name” whatever that meant. And suddenly Lila’s childhood bully came up flaunting her money? ◇─◇──◇─◇

Timothy Drake-Wayne was disgusted. He was disgusted by the former-students at the reunion, he was disgusted with the teacher at the reunion and he was disgusted with their coffee too.

He and Marinette had caught up with all of their old friends. It seemed relationships had blossomed with children on the way too. Chloe Lahiffe was pregnant with her first child, along with Sabrina Kanté too. Alix, on the other hand, was a sportswoman who decided to have children later. He and Marinette had also decided the same because both of them were so busy with their jobs, there would be not time to spend with their child.

Speaking of Marinette, there was a blonde guy walking over to her, eyes glued on her. Tim did not like this person. He asked Marinette “Who’s the blonde guy walking to us? He seems to have some special interest in you.”

Marinette’s expression darkened. Uh-oh. That meant he was bad news. She replied “That’s Agreste.”

Now Tim was pissed. “The same one who stood by and did nothing while Lie-la lied?”

Marinette nodded. Tim tightened his arm around her waist as he came closer. The others finally noticed him once he arrived right in front of them.

“Agreste.” Marinette greeted curtly.

◇─◇──◇─◇ Adrien was proud of himself. He had managed to keep the peace in the class and not reveal Lila too. Really, he wouldn’t have married her otherwise, she was far too fake.

But when he saw Marinette smiling and laughing with the blue-eyed, handsome man next to her - Timothy Drake-Wayne he thinks - he felt that he should try to encourage her to talk to her friends so that everything went as it was before! Without the Wayne.

He grew annoyed when he saw the Wayne look at him and whisper in his good friend’s ear. Then Marinette looked at him and whispered back into his ear. It seemed that this would be harder than he thought. And what was the twinge in his stomach?

When he arrived though, Marinette suddenly wasn’t the smiling and laughing girl he knew. She was cold. Nothing like the warm, Everyday - Ladybug of their class.

“Agreste” she said.

Adrien smiled happily. “Marinette! Chloe! Nino! Guys, how’s it been going?”

Nino narrowed his eyes had Adrien. “Is there anything we can help you with Agreste?”

Now Adrien was taken aback. He knew he and Nino hadn’t parted on a good note, but this was something completely different. Something like…hate…no that wasn’t possible.

Adrien, nevertheless, continued smiling, but before he could reply, his wife slithered up his arm and said “Adriboo honey, why are you talking to Maribrat and her crew of bullies?”

Marinette scoffed at her. “Wow Lie-la, clearly you haven’t matured in the recent years.”

Adrien tried to plead with his eyes to not antagonise her. She didn’t need to ruin the reunion! But his line of sight was blocked off by the Wayne glaring at him. Adrien involuntarily took a step back. His glares were scary.

Alya came up behind with the rest of the class and said “And who’s this Dupain-Cheng?” Pointing at the Wayne. “Someone you paid to be your date because you‘re too pathetic to actually get a boyfriend, let alone a husband?”

◇─◇──◇─◇

Tim was pissed to the point where he was aching to punch that woman in the face. How dare she insult his bean like that?

He could see his bean getting annoyed by them, so he whispered loudly into her ear “Go somewhere to cool down bean, I’ll take care of these idiots.”

She looked at him in the eyes and nodded, but said “Don’t kill them.”

Tim widened his eyes innocently. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing bean. I’m not Damian or Jason you know.”

She rolled her eyes at him and dragged Chloe and Alix to the bathroom with her.

Once she was out of earshot. He turned around and glared at her stupid classmates. He could hear them muttering about how Marinette was a liar and absolute rubbish.

“One,” he interrupted with a politeness he did not feel. “It’s not Marinette Dupain-Cheng now. It’s Marinette Drake-Wayne.”

The ex-class’ face became slack. Then the same woman from before said “Pffft as if. Marinette’s couldn’t even get Adrien’s attention, how would she get a Wayne’s?

Tim was rapidly losing patience and so were Kim and Nino. “And two, listen up you idiots. Marinette is not a liar or a bully. She is one of the kindest people in existence and too good for this world. So shut up and get lost.”

The same woman - Cesaire or something - says something else and Nino and Kim retaliate, but Tim ignores them because he has just had an amazing idea.

When Marinette comes back with the girls, he says loudly “Bean, do you mind going home right now? I didn‘t get much sleep last night.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him and asked “Exactly how much sleep did you get last night?”

Tim shrugged sheepishly. “Maybe two hours?”

“WHAT?” she yelped. “TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE, we are going home right now.”

That was totally worth the shock on the stupid class’ faces. As they were leaving - or more like Marinette dragging him - Tim mouthed to the others ‘record it’.

The video was going to be epic.

#mlb #class salt #timinette #lie-la #lie la #chloe bourgeois #alix kubdel #le chien kim #sabrina raincomprix #max kante #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #tim drake #tim drake wayne #maribat #adrien salt #tim x marinette #marinette x tim #lila rossi #nino lahiffe #alya salt

[statticscribbles]

Spoon

Summary: Stiles/Male!Reader; they need to study but all reader wants to do is cuddle/be the little spoon

Stiles had invited you over to work on an english project he had; you’d already finished so you knew you’d just be a sounding board for him. Despite having been dating for almost two months you were still nervous when you opened the door; his dad seemed to love you; even if you had been convinced that he was going to hate Stiles for being into guys and you for ‘turning him’ instead he seemed to overcompensate; relieved Stiles finally had someone he liked. Going overboard; as Stiles had warned was awkwardly giving you both the sex and drug talk before offering to buy pizza and then leave to work a night shift.

Still you had grown to love him and you don’t mind his odd behaviour when Stiles drags you upstairs.

“You dad said he had pizza!”

“I brought it up already.” Stiles grins kissing you; you try to deepen it but he pulls back offering a slice of pizza as he pulls over the outline he’d done in class.

“Oh we’re actually working?”

“Yeah this is due in a week and I have nothing typed up.”

“You have everything done in the outline; you literally just have to type it up.”

“I know which is why you’re here.”

“To make you type up your report?”

“No to be my reward for typing it.” Stiles turns his computer on and you lose him to the glow of the screen as you eat half of the pizza.

“Do you think Batman and Robin have like regular dad and kid stuff?”

“What?”

“I’m just saying; like imagine Dick is getting bullied in school; i mean his name is dick; and he can’t just be like ‘fuck all y’all I’m Batmans kid’ cause superhero identities so like does Bruce Wayne have to show up and be like “listen there’s only so much funding i can put into parenting centers and hospitals and anti bullying campaigns and free therapists; but if any of those kids upset my son i will call batman. And then the kids freak out cause ‘omg dick i can’t believe your dad knows Batman’; and then that create an entirely new problem and-”

“Y/N; stop; I can feel you getting closer; you’re like a furnace; and while i love you, and cuddling we have school work to do; you can’t distract me with batman.”

“What if I let you be the big spoon.”

“I’m always the big spoon.” Stiles narrows his eyes and back himself up to the headboard of his bed.

“I know; because you like it so much, besides I’m cold.” You pout and Stiles glares over the top of his computer.

“No I have like three more paragraphs; seriously can you just wait that- oh my god you’re worse than a cat…” You grin where you’d carefully pulled the computer away from him. You save the document he’s working on and then grab at him arms tangling him into a hug.

“Y/N; Jesus; i have like three paragraphs that’ll take like fifteen minutes.”

“After a break; you’ve been working too hard; and; you never answered my question!”

“About Batman and Robin?”

“Yeah!”

“Well uhh I mean I feel like most of the kids would know if Dick was at there school that Bruce Wayne was his dad; and since Bruce Wayne is filthy rich there’s no way he wouldn’t know batman…” Stiles shifts allowing you to press your face into his shoulder before you kiss his cheek and his arms drape around your waist.

“So going by that logic; i mean they’d be excited but since most people know Bruce Wayne i think the kids wouldn’t like bombard him right away; maybe they’d actually befriend Dick and then like one day Batman shows up to Timmy’s birthday party because wow Dick forgot to get a present; you know things like that. Do you think Bruce Wayne would-” Stiles pauses and you take the opportunity to kiss him; he returns the kiss; deepening it slightly before you both lie back on the bed and relax.

“I was supposed to be doing something.”

“Me.” You grin at him and he huffs shaking his head.

“No before you; that was reward for- MY ESSAY” He grins at himself and you whine as he untangles your arms and pulls the computer over; you shove yourself between him and his laptop once more and he sighs reaching over you to type.

“Okay now I have two paragraphs left; and then I’ll do you.”

“Don’t you mean we’ll do whatever i want?’ You grin and he shakes his head.

“No, I finished my essay so I got to pick; and I want you.”

“But I sat and let you finish; I barely interrupted.” You nod to him and he gives you an unimpressed look at where you rest between him and the computer.

Support My Writing?

#stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x male reader #stiles x you #stiles stilinksi x reade #rstiles x y/n #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinksi imagine #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #stattic

[anothertimdrakestan]

How DARE You Go And Die On Me???  - Jason Todd x Reader Soulmate AU -

Words: 2.1k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Jason Todd x reader soulmate AU pleasssse where when you touch them with skin for the first time there’s sparkly lights that only you and your soulmate see or something and you feel really warm and your soulmate glows or something? Thank you ❤️”

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I love this request. So much. I hope y’all enjoy this one because I really got to live out my famous science nerd dream. Thank you for the amazing request! I secretly love soulmate AU’s hehehe so please send more! Y’all are so creative with them too :)))

Soulmates were a sore subject for you. At a young age you glowed bright red, and it was the most crushing moment of your life. Soulmate glows only occurred when you touched your soulmate for the first time or when they died. Knowing this meant you would never meet your person was hard, but you hoped maybe you’d be one of the lucky ones who got a new soulmate, seeing as you were so young. But years later nothing had happened even though you stayed hopeful. Unlike so many who go off the rails once they realize there’s no one for them, you dedicated your life to researching soulmates, and it was incredibly fulfilling. As a high school intern working under a group of molecular biochemists, world renowned computer scientists, and psychiatrists you were worked towards creating a drug that made you glow in your soulmate color, it would make finding soulmates much easier and from there you could maybe make a sensor and go international with your research. Who wouldn’t want a drug that finds the person you’re meant to be with?

You’d been tracking soulmates to see if there’s any tell before they find out they are soulmates besides the glowing. It was painful to watch thousands find their life long partner but part of you hoped that by finishing this research you would be able to figure out if your soulmate was really gone, or get filthy rich trying. As just a teenager you planned on working for the company for the rest of your life, staying involved as you pursue your degree then returning, this project was growing up with you. 

As far as you knew, soulmates were drawn together. That was the only explanation as to why so many people in your tests were soulmates. There was something almost magnetic about finding your other half, and you were convinced it was chartable. There was a scientific explanation for everything. 

Finally the drug was ready, after months of blind trials and high highs and low lows it was time for the first wave of real life test runs. Grouping a couple thousand eager participants together, your team split into groups. Taking each participant into a room you gave them the drug and filled the color they glowed, and if anyone matched you’d bring them together. Of course all the interns on your team wanted to try too. 

Stepping up you couldn’t hold in excitement. Since you were only newly a teenager you hoped your soulmate color would be cool. You’d seen some amazing colors and meetings all throughout the day. It couldn’t get more exciting.

Stepping up, you took the drug and waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

But you didn’t glow. “Hey uh Y/N you did say you glowed when you were little right? Sorry to break it to yah kid but yours is gone, we’ve got a couple hundred more tests why don’t yah go home?” a voice came over the intercom, and your heart sunk. Sure some people didn’t glow either, and they all had flashed at some point. Your hope was clearly misplaced. And with a broken soul, quite literally, you went home.

Years later you’d kept with the team. The drug was almost ready to be released officially, and the public was beyond excited. You were 25 now, a huge public face for the soulmate finder, you’d stuck with the program and it had made you practically famous. Doing PR you’d brought the drug on talk shows, finding strangers their soulmate on live TV, you made special appearances to celebrities to find and log their soulmate color. Everyone that took your test had their specific color logged in a huge database, so when you tested if your perfect color matched somewhere your soulmate would get alerted. It was perfection.

Tonight you were going on television to do another round of soulmate finding with a late night host. Nothing new.

“And please welcome, Cupid Herself, Y/N!” The crowd was always full wherever you went, everyone wanted a chance at love as soon as possible. “Now I’m very sorry to disappoint the crowd but we’re bringing out some celebrities who’ve requested a chance at love... I bring you THE WAYNES!” You were a little shocked, you probably should’ve read the brief but no difference, you had enough for about ten people. Standing up you shook Bruce Wayne’s hand, moving onto the chair at the side while Bruce and three of his children walked in. “Hello! Mr. Grayson, Todd, and Ms. Brown right?” the host greeted the three and shook Bruce’s hand, no need for his introduction. 

“These three couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. As you know Mr. Drake-Wayne has found his soulmate and now husband so we couldn’t bring him! And my son Damian was erm- busy.” You saw Jason Todd snort, slightly taken aback by his actions on live television. “Can I just say, I am super excited to be here! It’s a huge honor Ms. Y/L/N this is too cool!” Stephanie got up, giving you a quick hug, you smiled, happy that she was so kind. 

“Well lets get this show on the road! I’m sure millions want to know if any of the Wayne’s are their soulmate!” the host waggled an eyebrow as the crowd cooed. This was basically a chance at the lottery, a Wayne was a ticket to riches for life. Taking the lead you gave your pitch about the drug, taking consent before grabbing a serving for four. Walking up you handed a glass to each boy, finishing with Bruce, but he refused. “Oh no, I don’t want to know” he said softly. The crowd booed, and in a bit of a panic the host said “well then how about the lovely Y/N takes a drink? We all want to know if the creator has a soulmate!” you politely told him and the crowd you’d tried before, but there was no light, explaining how you lost is when you were younger. As you saw the crowd looking upset you decided it was better than nothing.

“How about I try it guys! Maybe something’s changed - find out live here on Late Night!” you pitched into the camera and the host nodded, cutting to an ad-break.

“Does this shit actually work?” Jason turned to you, swirling the liquid around cautiously. “Yes! We’ve been error free for five years!” you said proudly, this was your life's work after all. “And we’re back! How ‘bout we get this show on the road! Grayson you first?” 

With a shrug Dick threw the little up back, and in a few seconds a cerulean blue glowed around him. The crowd oohed and ahhed as Dick smiled. “Any matches?” He looked to you. Glancing over at your guy who had snapped the exact color he shook his head. “Not yet! Dick Grayson-Wayne’s soulmate is still out there!” the crowd rumbled in excitement, everyone wanted a test now.

“Ms. Brown! Care to drink?” Stephanie drank eagerly, and quickly shone a deep royal purple and the crowd cheered. “No match!” you let everyone know and there was another cheer.

“Mr. Todd, you next?” Jason didn’t waste a moment, drinking the liquid he shone the brightest red you’d seen in a while. For a moment it reminded you of your red all those years ago. Looking over it was another no, and the crowd was almost losing it, many girls in the audience begged for a drink to see if they were his lover. 

“And lastly Ms. Y/N! Ready to see the creator try her own drug?!” You corrected him, taking a moment to shout out all the amazing scientists, interns, and volunteers you’d worked with over the years. The crowd cut you off, chanting “DRINK DRINK DRINK” urging you to throw the cup back, the liquid tasted way better than the last time you’d tried it in the trial run. You help out your hand to show the lack of coloration and the audience sighed. Smiling sweetly you began to talk about the drop date.

“Thank you all so much! I’m so excited to release this with my team in just a month. I’d like to once again thank my tea-” you heard a shriek “OH MY GOD THAT’S JASON’S COLOR!!!” and the audience lost it. Confused you saw Jason’s jaw drop, and you looked at your hands that now radiated the same deep red from all those years ago. 

“UM WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK!” the host shouted over the chaos. You immediately got up, rushing to the color scanner. “Holy shit Y/N it’s really Jason’s color.” he confirmed your suspicions and without thinking you sprinted back up to the sofa. Connecting your hand to Jason’s cheek the two of you began glowing the same color. Locking eyes with Jason, you couldn’t help but start crying. The aura radiated between the two of you and Jason pulled you into his chest. 

The camera came on after the 20 second impromptu break. And what they saw made the news that night. “JASON TODD FOUND SOULMATE LIVE ON LATE NIGHT” “CAMERAS TURN ON AND JASON IS HOLDING HIS GIRL - TOO CUTE! CLICK FOR PICS” “JASON TODD CUFFED! SEE THE PICS HERE!” In just the few seconds before they could cut the cameras, millions of viewers saw Jason holding you, the bright red shining around the two of you while you clung to him. And the pictures were everywhere. Pulling you off stage you couldn’t wrap your mind around what had just happened. 

“My- my soulmate died years ago. When I was a kid I took the drug and didn’t shine! This doesn’t make any sense!” you looked up a Jason and practically saw a lightbulb go off. “Well um, were you around 13 when your soulmate died? [ you nodded ] And you were about 14-15 when you tried the drug? [ again he was right ] Okay well long story I died and came back to life. And you must’ve tested when I was still gone” he finished and you almost passed out. “YOU DIED?” you screeched. And he clamped a hand over your mouth. 

“Shh princess that’s valuable knowledge for family and soulmates only” it was slowly starting to register that you were in fact his soulmate. “Soulmates” you whispered, leaning in to hug him again. “Soulmates.” he confirmed. 

“God I have never seen Jaybird this sappy in my life, you might be magical” Dick came up to you, shaking your hand and pulling you in for a hug. “You got a good soulmate Jay. By the way, can I have a couple servings early I’ve got a bet with Timbers that Damian’s soulmate is Jon and I need some soulmate help for myself?” you rolled your eyes and Jason tugged you back to his side. “Back off Grayson she doesn’t even know you!” 

“A little protective already Jay? Poor Y/N get used to this sweetheart” Dick winked at you and you felt Jason tighten his grip around your waist. Dick backed off and Stephanie bounded up to you. “Oh my god Tim’s gonna die he’d totally wanna be here! Plus I bet Bruce is gonna have to do all sorts of interviews now hahaha. How are you doing girl? This is a lot! Welcome to the Waynes!” she said, pulling you in for another tight hug, and the seriousness of finding your soulmate hit you. “Oh my god I’m gonna have to do so much press. How did I not think of this. What are the odds oh no this is gonna be a shitstorm fuck fuck fuck” Jason interrupted you by squeezing your hand. “Uh I really hate press too, I mean Bruce owes me patrol for like a week for just tonight but, if you like, need me for something I can go... does that help?” he looked lost, but it was clear that he wanted to help, and it was adorable. 

“I would like that. And it’s late. I’m exhausted. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow somewhere private? We’re gonna get stalked so maybe you can come over to my place?” you realized you just had to take it step by step, and finding a soulmate was the best first step ever. “Yeah, that seems easier.” Jason sighed, and the two of you exchanged numbers.

“By the way, what does patrol mean? And does the color red mean anything to you cuz it doesn’t to me and usually the color means something but it could not?” You saw Jason’s eyes widen.

“Erm, I’ll tell you tomorrow. It’s another one of those ‘family and soulmates only’ facts. If that’s okay?” you nodded, just happy to have a soulmate.

“Of course Jason, but just know I’m gonna give you a hard time for going and dying on me. Idiot” you stuck your tongue out as he winked.

“Only to make a perfect love story for you princess” and you groaned, but he wasn’t wrong. This one truly one for the books. 

#jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd x y/n #jason todd overprotective #soulmate au #dc fluff #jason todd soulmate #batfam fluff #batfam headcanons #batboys #jason x reader #jason todd au #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you

[mylifeincinema]

My Week(s) in Reviews: March 20, 2022

Sorry I missed last week, but I only had The Batman, and figured with the absurdity of the recency bias surrounding it online, y’all wouldn’t really care about my thoughts on that middling, already astoundingly overrated film. Anyway, let’s get into it...

The Batman (Matt Reeves, 2022)

The biggest problem with all the comparisons to Se7en and Zodiac is that they are both far superior films to Matt Reeves' The Batman. Unlike the two Fincher films, which are each its own unique masterclass in pacing, the pacing here is all over the place. Reeves either rushes through or drags through scene after scene, robbing them of any emotional depth, tension or thrills.

That's not to say it's all bad. The first half or so is really pretty great. It's always awesome to see Batman doing some actual leg-work, and the early Riddler kills are some pitch-black shit. But by the time we get to the all-around disaster that is the final act, it's far gone from that effectively bleak serial killer mystery. And the final act itself, with the Riddler’s unnecessarily grand finale, an incel army, its series of overly rushed character moments and poorly shot/edited action, is just painful. Don't even get me started on that hilariously bad character tease in Arkham.

The cast is pretty damn fantastic, though. Pattinson makes for a pretty badass Batman; focused, imposing and thoughtful, he works each scene like the brilliant detective he is (or rather... is becoming). As Bruce Wayne, however, he's too awkward, making those scenes uncomfortable and flat. Colin Farrell's Penguin deserves his own movie. And really, so does Jeffrey Wright's Gordon. Zoë Kravitz made for a solid Catwoman, but too much of her dialogue was painfully bad. Paul Dano was effective as the Riddler until we get to that final act, where he gives in too much to the script's dialogue. But that's no fault of Dano's; it's just another case of the really bad dialogue that too much of this film's second half is drowning in. Also, I missed that John Turturro was in this, so it was a treat seeing him as Falcone.

Reeves’ Apes films were uniformly fantastic, but here his work seems unfocused and lost in itself. Fraser’s cinematography is solid but robbed by the film's editing. Giacchino's score is unsurprisingly awesome. But it’s the production design that (probably) steals the whole damn film. Gotham is such a rain-soaked, filthy, dismal shithole, here, filled with character fitting of such a city.

A lot of that sounds more harsh than it maybe should. Truth is, I mostly enjoyed this despite its flaws. Until that final act, at least. - 7/10

Turning Red (Domee Shi, 2022)

The intro to this film is the single worst thing Pixar has given us... period. Thankfully, aside from a few characters that are Illumination-level annoying, once we’re past that intro we’re given the exact type of heartfelt story Pixar has so consistently delivered over the years. Turning Red tackles the changes of growing up in a way that sensitive, thorough and creative. Plus, the character design on Mei’s Panda is just adorable. This still falls firmly within the bottom-tier of Pixar’s filmography, but that doesn’t stop it from being an insightful, emotionally rich piece of coming-of-age filmmaking. - 6/10

The Adam Project (Shawn Levy, 2022)

Well, damn. Sure, I get all the hate for Reynolds. The thing is, I also wholly disagree with it. Yeah, he’s a one-trick pony, but it’s a likable trick and with the right material and actors to work with, his earnest face and emotional connection to the material elevate said trick. That’s what happens in this shockingly emotional sci-fi/action flick. The chemistry between just about every actor/character is fantastic. The heavier moments work thanks to said chemistry and Levy’s balanced/grounded approach to bringing the screenplay to life visually. And the story itself excites and pulls on the heartstrings in a way that makes the plot-holes almost entirely forgivable. This was a surprise... an absolute treat that was at once fun and shockingly emotionally shattering. - 8.5/10

Fresh (Mimi Cave, 2022)

Love that the opening credits don’t drop until 33-minutes in. Love how twisted Sebastian Stan’s character is, and how fun he’s having with him. Love that it keeps a very dark humor throughout the whole film. And I especially love how brutal the final act gets. This wasn’t quite the film I was expecting going in, but then it ended up being even more enjoyable whatever that film was. - 7.5/10

Mass (Fran Kranz, 2021)

The cast is great. Really needed about 20-minutes cut (especially that sluggish, unnecessary opening) and better direction to really do the dialogue and performances the justice they deserved. - 4/10

Kimi (Steven Soderbergh, 2022)

Fantastic. Easily Soderbergh’s best directorial work since Contagion, or at the very least, Side Effects. David Koepp’s screenplay is incredibly taut, intriguing and paired with Soderbergh’s work, superbly paced. And Zoë Kravitz is just so damn good; her frustration and fear blend and transform throughout in a manner as riveting as it is authentic. This not only does its inspirations justice, but does so in a way that makes it stand up tall on its own. - 9/10

Enjoy!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

#film #movies #cinema #the batman #turning red #the adam project #fresh #mass #kimi #movie review #movie reviews #film review #my week in reviews