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klemen-tine · 3 months

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White Whale Part 2

Platonic! Yandere Batfam x Deaf!Male Reader

A continuation of this one.

https://www.tumblr.com/klemen-tine/736839222321922048/white-whale

Thoughts

Sign/Morse Code

Speaking

Trigger Warnings: Disability Discrimination and a mention of suicidal thoughts. Its like on sentence.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Y/N sat near the window, his processors off and a book on his lap. His attention was drawn to the snow falling outside and covering the ground in white, watching Damian walk Titus around the yard to experience the frozen water. Not like the giant dog hasn’t walked in snow before.

He pressed his forehead against the glass, feeling the freezing melted sand press against his skin and without a doubt making it red. His tan was slowly fading, which made him all the more depressed whenever he looked in the mirror, now resulting in him wearing long sleeves in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to see it fade faster. His finger running down the spine of his book over and over again, tracing over the embroidered words and his short fingernail picked at the strings.

Y/N pulled away from the window, before Damian could see him, and he set To Kill a Mockingbird down on the lamp table beside the small nook near the window. It was his secret little stowaway, one Y/N knows that if they wanted to, his family could find it easily. There is nowhere in this manor that is unable to be discovered by them. He thinks Alfred is helping in keeping this spot a secret. Assuring the bat family that Y/N is safe and there is no need to tear apart the library to look for him.

All the windows in the library are sealed besides three, and those have sensors on them. Even if they didn’t, Y/N wasn’t stupid. He knows that those trackers he had dug out from his body are back in him. There is one in his inner thigh, deep enough that if he were to take the same scalpel he used the first time, the chance of nicking his artery was a higher possibility than he felt was worth risking.

Sometimes, when he presses down on the soft skin, he could feel the cold metal sear his muscles and capillaries, reminding him of his captivity without the chains.

Y/N connected his external processors, and winced when the world began to make noise. There was the buzz of some lightbulbs the hummed in the air and the heater was making a thrumming noise. Before his ‘trip’ to the Dominican Republic, Y/N would have thought that this was quiet. He would have believed that this was almost silent and there was little chance of it becoming any more quiet.

Now it was just loud. Obnoxiously so.

Looking out the window once more, Y/N couldn’t help the turn of his eyebrows and the downturn in his lips. Even his safe place felt like a cage.

Walking out of the room, he zigzagged through the bookshelves and into the main room, where the large couches, the fireplace, and coffee table are. The fire was crackling and popping, the bright oranges, reds, and yellows casting a warm glow on the sofas.

“I was wondering when you’d come out.” Y/N didn’t even look at Tim, his gaze still on the flames and the burning embers of the fire. It matched the heat that was beginning to burn in his chest whenever he was around any of them. It’s embarrassing, but it took Y/N a few days to realize what exactly it was he was feeling towards them.

Anger. Y/N was so, undeniably, pissed at all of them. It got to the point that he wouldn’t even eat with them. Alfred, the kind man he is, would bring his meals to his room and Y/N would eat there. Dick once tried to drag Y/N out of his room, but he got a solid kick to his leg and Y/N’s enraged voice screeching at him to get the hell out of his room.

Even Jason was receiving the cold shoulder. When he tried to read to Y/N, taking their usual spot and position, Y/N just scrunched his nose and moved. Ignoring his twin’s call and slamming his door hard and loud enough that it made his processors ring.

Tim sighed, watching his brother stew and brew like a shaken pepsi bottle, ready to erupt with words that will stick to the skin. Y/N didn’t acknowledge him, his jaw clenching and nose scrunching, before he turned away and left the library. Tim stood up and followed him, jamming his foot in between the door and the door frame to stop Y/N from shutting him out.

“Go. Away.” Tim pushed into the door, and even though he and Y/N are about the same size, Tim is Red Robin. A vigilante used to put down villains twice his size and three times his weight. Y/N is just… Y/N. He muscled through, inviting himself within Y/N’s room which he took a scan of.

The window was closed, the bed was made, the desk clean, and the laptop locked. When he had gotten back, his laptop had been installed with monitoring software, allowing everyone access from the Batcomputer to see what Y/N was doing. His phone had been given the same thing, only the child settings were enabled. His bags, duffle, suitcases, backpacks, all of them had been taken and if he ever needed them then he would need to go to Bruce.

If Y/N had anything to say, he didn’t share it. When it was all explained to Y/N, he wasn’t even looking at them, or Bruce, and instead was staring out the window. Damian believed that the other didn't even listen to them, but the lack of questions proved he had heard them.

“We really need to talk, Y/N.”

“No, go away. I don’t want you in my room.” Tim sighed, watching Y/N seethe in front of him. He held firm, “I will leave, once we talk.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “About what? There is nothing to talk about.” Those raging E/C eyes followed Tim’s every move in his space, and if it were any other time, Tim would have been thrilled to have Y/N’s attention on him. Those eyes focused only on him.

Tim sat on the chair in front of Y/N’s desk, ignoring Y/N’s scandalized expression and instead taking in the desk. All of Y/N’s writing tools, journals, pens, and markers have been confiscated. Instead, he only had the iPad to write down his thoughts and notes for when school starts. An iPad that is monitored.

Y/N seemed to accept that Tim would not be leaving, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Scrunching his nose, he disconnected the processors, pulled them off of his head, and debated about chucking them at his brother. He tossed them on his bed. He saw Tim deflate from the corner of his vision, and when those E/C eyes filled with irritation and smugness met Tim’s blue eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the vindictive smirk that formed on his face.

‘Bruce wants you to keep those on.’

“What do you want, Tim? If you have nothing good to say then get out, I want to nap.” Tim nodded, adjusting himself so he had space to sign.

‘How long are you going to keep pouting?’ Y/N’s face scrunched and he stared at Tim in disbelief. Not in disbelief that he said that, but disbelief in that that was what he wanted to say at this point in time. He could feel a headache forming and the rage building in his chest to the back of his throat. The words scorching the sensitive skin and making him feel as if he was about to catch fire.

“I tell you to have something ‘good’ to say, and that’s what comes out of your mouth? Get out, Tim.” His brother stayed in the chair, and Y/N marched over and grabbed the collar of Tim’s shirt. Which, if he had a clearer mind, Y/N would have not done that. It only allowed for Tim to grab his wrist and maneuver them so that it was Y/N who was pinned.

Icy blue eyes stared into boiling E/C eyes. Tim sighed, releasing Y/N so he can sign, ‘It is getting out of control, Y/N. I can understand a month, but you are pushing three.’

“You can’t tell me how to feel or how long I can feel it.” Tim looked ready to throttle him, and Y/N hoped that Tim rolled his eyes enough that they got stuck like that.

‘Y/N, just what was so important about that shack that is keeping you acting like this?’ Y/N pushed Tim, startling his younger brother and if he was calmer, Y/N would also be startled. He’s never been a violent person, choosing to look away when things got bloody in a movie or show. However, the spike of rage and aggravation he felt towards Tim and the situation had made his body move before he could really process it.

He glared at Tim with a new rage, and now he had wished he had thrown those external processors as the so-called genius. He balled his fist, “It wasn’t the shack! It wasn’t the ocean, it wasn’t the country, for fucks sake Tim, it wasn’t even then whales!” Y/N reached across his desk and threw a copy of Alice in Wonderland at the other.

He ignored the annoyance when Tim caught it.

“It wasn’t any of that! It was what you all took away! It wasn’t the sun, it wasn’t the outside, it was the ability to make my own decisions!” Tears burned Y/N’s eyes and he wondered just how many nights he spent crying and wishing for a chance to escape.

“Why… why am I the only one who doesn’t have any say in how I want to live me life?” Tim set the book down on Y/N’s bed, and walked closer. Y/N stepped away, “Why am I the one who is held here like some kind of… prisoner when everyone else can go and–and do what they want?”

Tim’s heart broke, ‘No, no Y/N. You’re not a prisoner, we just want you safe and the safest place is here.’ Y/N gave him a look of exhaustion and disappointment, “What else is this then? Where else are people monitored to this extent?” Prison. Hell, Arkham doesn’t even have this level of monitoring and Gotham’ worst and craziest people were there.

Y/N knows that all of this is done out of some sick and twisted form of love, but if this was love then Y/N wanted no part of it.

“Y/N,” Tim winced. He didn’t feel bad about what they have done for Y/N, but he did feel bad that it was somewhat affecting Y/N like this. It wasn’t their intention for Y/N to feel trapped, but Y/N just doesn’t get it. The world is mean, cruel, and horrible to those who don’t fit in. Tim, Jason, Dick, Damian, Bruce, the entire Bat clan knows this because they are the ones out there and witnessing this.

They all know just how awful this world can be, so why would they not want to protect Y/N from it?

“Dinner is ready.” Tim’s attention snapped to the door, where Damian stood. Y/N’s attention also turned to Damian, and the boy softened under Y/N’s hurt gaze.

‘Alfred made your favorite.’ Y/N wanted to bury his head in his hands. He didn’t want to read this conversation anymore. Pursing his lips, Y/N plopped down on the edge of his bed and looked out the barred window.

“You say I am not a prisoner… then am I a pet?” He mumbled, his voice barely above a murmur. Damian moved further in the room, so Y/N can see his hands at least.

‘Of course not. You are our most prized person.’ Damian didn’t see Y/N as a person. It is cruel to admit and he had almost been choked-out by Jason when he said it out loud. Y/N, in Damian’ eyes, was the Wayne’s family most prized possession. Next to the Batcave, the library, the Barmobile, and even Wayne Enterprises, Y/N stood next to and in front of it all. They could not function without him.

Like every prized possession, like diamonds, sapphires, and jades, they wanted to protect him. They gave him the best care they could and the best security. The difference was that jewels don’t have opinions or a desire to roam the earth. Something Y/N did have, and Damian blames the books for that wanderlust. Specifically that Moby Dick book.

When Jason took it from Y/N, Damian had to stop himself from throwing it in the fire. It was a first edition, the cover and binding still the same from when the book was first published, and if he looked closely he could see the faint line where Y/N has traced the spine of the book numerous times. Damian knows there is only one person in this world Y/N hates, which is the Joker, and Damian does not want to be added to the list should anything happen to that book.

Still, it was tempting.

Damian has read the book, and the lesson was as obvious as an East Gothamite amidst the upper echelon of Gotham. Damian knows what Y/N’s ‘white whale’ is, and he can’t help but to wonder why Y/N can’t draw the same conclusions like everyone else did.

Just like the story, Y/N will drive himself crazy trying to obtain something that they will never allow. Diamonds, sapphires, and jades are always protected by glass cases and security systems. That is how Y/N should see this.

‘Your safety is the most important thing.’

“More than my happiness?” Damian and Tim stared at Y/N with the answer clear in their eyes, but Y/N wanted to see them say it. He wanted to see them admit that they did not care for his happiness as long as he was trapped within these thick walls and gilded windows.

‘You were happy before.’ Y/N sighed, “That is because it was an illusion.” E/C eyes, dull and lacking emotion, “Tell me Dami, how can I go back to that illusion when in the morning it is the sun’s reflections off the bars on the windows that wake me up? Or the feeling of those trackers in my body replacing the collar you all want to put around my neck?”

++++

Bruce stared at the photo, taking in the smiles and the way those eyes used to shine. Y/N always had a great smile, full of his emotions and rarely ever fake. His eyes always the most expressive, and it is why Bruce found it easy to see when he was lying.

Granted, in Y/N’s defense, he’s never had a real reason to lie before. He was open with everyone about his thoughts, opinions, and desires. Bruce made it that way. Bruce swaddled him in the comfort that only he and the family could provide in order to make it so Y/N would always rely on them for that. He made it so Y/N would never have to lie, or feel the need too.

Then Y/N just had to get curious. Bruce doesn’t know who is to blame for this sudden defiance in Y/N, but he does put a lot of blame on those ocean documentaries. Even when he was young, Y/N always had a fascination for them. Watching them over and over again, reading the subtitles, memorizing them, so now he can just watch the documentaries while already knowing what is going on.

His attention turned to the photo he had bought from that photographer in the Dominican Republic. Y/N was freediving and looking like he was in his element.

Bruce didn’t feel bad for taking Y/N back, but he did feel bad about cutting a hobby short. There was denying that Y/N was a natural at this sport, and Bruce had always wanted to encourage each of his kids’ interest.

But not this one. Not one that meant Y/N had to live far from them and was dangerous. At least with vigilantism, Batman was there in case anything turned south. There was no one in the water for Y/N in case something happened. Free diving is dangerous, and the ocean is unpredictable. Bruce can’t help Y/N if he goes free diving, especially if he goes alone.

Sighing, Bruce rubbed his forehead and checked the surveillance cameras one more time. Y/N and Dick were in one of the study rooms. From what it looks like, Dick is trying to talk to Y/N who was standing next to the windows, looking away from the other.

Perhaps, it’s about time Bruce steps in. Y/N hasn’t talked to him since the day Bruce grounded him, about two months ago and the other has done a great job in staying out of Bruce’s radar. The only time Bruce has seen Y/N in person is when he goes into Y/N's room at night after patrol to make sure that he is still there. A new fear unlocked that one night, when everyone is out and Alfred is asleep, Y/N will disappear once more.

No one knows how Y/N got out that one night, and no matter how many questions were asked, Y/N never said anything. Damian had tried bargaining with him, telling him that if Y/N told them how he got out then some days of his grounding would be taken off. Y/N huffed, a bitter smile taking over his face.

Bruce rose from his desk, shutting down his computer and leaving his own study. It is about time he and his son have a conversation. One sided or not.

He walked over to the study room that Dick and Y/N were in. Halting before the door and listening to the voices coming from inside.

“Y/N, I am telling you that no one is going to believe you after the stunt you pulled.”

“But you will be with me. Dick, I just want to go to the beach. We did it all the time.”

“Mmm, and look how that ended up.”

“Me being happy for a few months.”

“You’re still on that, Y/N?” Bruce opened the heavy doors, silencing the conversation and causing two sets of eyes to land on him. Dick was leaning against the desk, and Y/N had his back to the window. Both of their faces showed their surprise and confusion, until E/C eyes flickered to the ceiling and the corners of the room where he saw the cameras. Confusion became annoyance, rolling his eyes and turning back towards the window.

Dick and Bruce made eye contact, and when Bruce nodded his head towards the door Dick didn’t fight it. He took the hint and walked out, sparing Y/N and Bruce one last look before shutting the large oak doors.

Y/N refused to look at him. Bruce walked closer, behind the desk and next to Y/N, standing next to the window.

“Y/N.” His son moved to pull out his external processors, but Bruce grabbed his wrists within his large hands, effectively stopping his son. Bruce set his jaw, “None of that, we need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Then listen.” Y/N scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, glaring at Bruce. The older man sighed, but held his grip on those thin wrists, noting that Y/N had stopped tugging his arms and was in fact waiting for Bruce to start talking, “I understand that you are upset, and that you are upset at us for meddling.” Y/N raised an eyebrow, his face slowly smoothening out and his lips no longer in a pout.

Bruce sighed, releasing one of Y/N’s wrists to push aside his bangs. Gently brushing his son’s forehead and pushing the rest of the strand behind his ear, minding the processing unit resting behind Y/N’s ear.

“And I know you’re aware that if you had asked, we would have said no.” Y/N’s lips pouted once more and his eyes became a little downcast. Sadness blanketing over him and Bruce felt a bit bad for revealing that, but Y/N knows it already.

“Y/N, why are you insistent on wanting to be independent? There are millions of people in this world who still wish for their parent’s support, and thousands of people who would give up everything to have a life and opportunities that you have.” Y/N scrunched his nose, feeling guilt curl in his chest.

He knows that he is lucky. Y/N is aware of how fortunate he is to have all that he has and then some. He knows that there are people in this world who would kill to have what he has.

Yet, just like there are millions of people who want what he has, there are also millions of people who strive for their independence against their family. Millions of people who take pleasure in making choices that affect only them. Millions of people who don’t let their disabilities define their life, and learn to accept and live with them.

“I am aware that I am fortunate, that my deafness has only been a part of my life instead of completely defining it,” Y/N acknowledged, turning his attention back to outside where it was beginning to snow. He ignored his reflection, not wanting to look at the weak person in front of him.

“I am grateful for all you have done, along with Alfred and everyone else. No amount of ‘thank you’s’ will ever be enough. But Bruce–” Y/N turned his eyes once more to Bruce, E/C eyes meeting ocean blue, “– No amount of money or gadgets is going to deny the fact that I am deaf.

“I am reliant on you all for a lot of things, and you raised me that way so that I can forever depend on you. Which… I know it wouldn't bother some people but it bothers me.” Y/N’s eyes shined with unshed tears, as if the very thought of having to rely on them was shameful.

“I am not fragile, nor am I glass. I am from East Gotham, just like Jason.” Bruce is aware of that. Like every East Gothamite, the both of them had the stubbornness that made Bruce question if he had a lineage that tied him back to that part of town. Y/N is strong in his own ways, and stubborn in others. Bruce will agree on that. He will agree that Jason and Y/N are more like brothers than those Bruce has seen when blood related.

However, Jason and Y/N are not the same. They were different pieces cut from the same cloth. Jason was shaped and molded to withstand the toughest and dangerous situations, to be durable and take a beating.

Y/N was not molded like that. Y/N was refined and polished to be treated gently and kindly, to only know the kindest hands and gentlest of uses.

“And I know that compared to the rest of you, I am weaker. I… I am not strong like you or Jason, I am not fast like Damian, nor am I as smart as Tim, or charismatic like Dick.” Bruce’s grip tightened on the one wrist he was still holding, wanting to deny everything Y/N had said because he hated hearing Y/N self-deprecating himself like that. Y/N is kinder than any of them, easier to talk to, and has almost the same amount of medical knowledge that Alfred has.

Y/N is the normalcy they all crave for when they come back from a patrol or mission. He reminds them in the gentlest ways that they are human. They are not just vigilantes, not another person hiding behind a cowl, a cape, or a domino mask. He reminds them that they are brothers, friends, allies, a father (in Bruce’s case).

“But just because of that, do you really have to control every part of my life? I wish you had more faith in me to let me go and learn to be strong on my own, just like you do with everyone else.” Y/N stared up at Bruce with a hurt expression, E/C eyes staring into Bruce’s blue eyes through those lashes that normally would be able to grant Y/N anything he wished. A simple bat of those lashes and eyes would have everyone running around trying to do as he wished.

“Y/N–”

“If you can’t trust me, at least trust yourself that you taught me well enough to be by myself.” But the thing is, is that Bruce doesn’t trust himself. He’s failed so many times and he fears that this one failure will be the one that breaks him. It’ll break the boys, the girls, Alfred, him. It’ll break everyone.

Y/N doesn’t realize it, and Bruce wonders if it is because he doesn’t want to get it or he just doesn’t. He wonders if Y/N chooses not to see his importance in this family so the burden doesn’t feel as heavy. If anything should happen to Y/N, Bruce can’t guarantee the safety of Gotham anymore. He couldn’t guarantee the safety of his Robins, past and current. If Bruce couldn’t protect literally the easiest person to protect, then who was he to try and protect a city?

Y/N, sensing Bruce’s hesitation and unease, tried to withdraw his hand from Bruce’s grip and shrug off the hand that was resting on his cheek. His hopes and wants crashing onto the carpeted floor, replacing his chest with anger and disappointment. He's been feeling those two emotions a lot lately. They are carving its way in his chest like it is their new home, and he wonders if it will be. Will he hold onto these feelings for the rest of his life as he stares out these large windows and reminisces what the sun felt like on his skin and the breeze through his hair. Does the biting cold still turn his nose and cheeks red, and does the heat and humid summers still make his freckles pop and skin gleam?

“...Forget it. I… it was stupid to ask that of you.” The raging inferno of anger died, filling his chest with the smoke of its fury and his stomach warm with the dying embers. A new emotion, one he is intimately familiar with, filled him instead. It is one he knows like the back of his hand, an emotion that is more of his identity than his deafness.

Sadness.

It is like a steady stream, filling the smoking cavity in his chest with cold water, putting out the embers and making that smoke turn to steam. Burning his muscles and organs with a painful sting, and filling his person with ice cold water instead of the burning fire. Y/N knows sadness. He knows the emotion well and sometimes it reminds him of a scar. Never truly gone, just sometimes forgotten. It sits at the back of the mind, hiding behind the good times, the happy emotions, until it is accidentally hit and it draws your attention. From there, it is no longer at the back of your mind, but all you can think about.

Sadness, to Y/N, is like a scar that has marred its way across his face. Never forgotten and for the whole world to see, unless makeup and a smile is put on it.

Y/N, in the basicness of emotions, is sad. He is hurt, upset, exhausted, and sad.

“Leave me alone, Bruce.” Bruce’s grip tightened once more, and his jaw clenched. He’s finally got Y/N within his vicinity to talk, like hell he’s letting go. Y/N narrowed his eyes and pulled his arm, “Let go, Bruce.”

He pulled again, “Bruce.” The man’s iron grip never waivered, and Y/N felt the air in his lungs begin to escape quicker than it could fill the organs. He brought his other hand up to try and peel those thick fingers off his wrist, but Bruce grabbed his other hand.

“I still don’t understand why you would want to leave.” Y/N scrunched his nose, “If you can’t understand, even after I spelled it out for you, then maybe you should stop being a detective.” Bruce didn’t feel insulted or slighted at Y/N’s words, chalking it up to Y/N being upset still.

“How can I make you want to stay here?” Y/N sighed, and Bruce could feel that fight leaving his son’s body. The tension in his arms disappeared.

“How can I know that it is here that I am meant to be, when I haven’t been anywhere else?” Bruce opened his mouth, to which Y/N effectively cut him off, “East Gotham doesn’t count, and the Dominican Republic would have counted if you all hadn’t kidnapped me.”

“We didn’t kidnap you.” Y/N gawked at him, and the fight returned, “You did kidnap me! Do you need a dictionary definition of what kidnapping is?! It is the unlawful abduction, aspiration and confinement of a person against their will!”

“You. Live. Here.” Bruce gritted out and Y/N’s jaw clenched, “Well I don’t WANT to be here!” He snarled and tried once more to loosen Bruce’s grip on his wrists.

“What is it with all of you NOT comprehending that?! No matter how you look at it, no matter what angle you try to take this from, Bruce. I am a prisoner within this manor!” Y/N glared at Bruce, “Just what did I do that warranted the surveilance, the trackers, the stupid god for fucking sake imaginary collar you all want me to have on?!”

Bruce growled out, “You left when you are only meant to stay here. It is the consequences of your actions.”

“I am not your property!” Y/N snarled, “ Nor am I a pet that you can keep chained and trapped in the house!” Bruce felt something snap within him and he released Y/N’s wrist and watched the other stumble from the sudden loss of support.

Y/N righted himself, still glaring at the man. Bruce took a deep breath, “Fine.”

“Huh?”

“You want to try your luck out there, then go. I will give you an hour's head start.” Y/N stared at Bruce in suspicion, “What are you getting at?” Bruce made a show of adjusting his watch, “I will give you an hour, only one. If you can outrun us, out maneuver us, or outsmart us until sunrise, you can choose how your future plays out.”

“‘Us?’” Bruce smiled, “All of us.” Y/N wanted to bite out a ‘not fair’ comment, but found a more pressing matter, “What about the trackers?” Bruce fished out his phone, and made a dramatic show of pressing some buttons, he then showed Y/N what appeared to be a small map, like a GPS, on his phone.

“Turned off.” Y/N ignored the feeling of disgust seeing that his location was literally on their phones.

“Start running Y/N, your hour has already started.” Y/N bolted out the study room, not looking back.

Bruce stayed in the room, looking out the window as the sun began to set and the snow turned dark. Light footsteps entered the room, and Bruce could basically hear the eyebrow raise, “Not now Alfred, save it for when Y/N comes back.”

The old butler humphed, “He’s always gotten sick when playing in the snow.” Bruce hummed, “Then I guess we better make this quick.”

“Are you sure an hour was a good idea? He did sneak out of the manor before.” Ocean blue eyes filled with mirth, and he tapped his ears, “If Y/N wants to know what it’s like to be deaf, then he’ll play this game deaf. It’ll teach him how lucky he is to have his hearing.” Alfred’s eyes widened, “They turn off without his knowledge.”

“Once he reaches a certain distance, they do, and he can’t turn them back on. Only I have the power to do that.”

In the hall, suited up and waiting in the shadows, were the rest of this crooked family. Waiting for his orders, “Give him an hour, then find him.”

++++

Y/N knows this is a losing game. He knows that this game is set for his failure, and he knows that once this game is over, he will most likely never be able to set foot outside again. Not without a babysitter.

When he external processors cut out, he knows what angle Bruce is playing out and he knows that his chances of making it to sunrise have become nearly 0%. He may not be as smart as Tim or anyone else in his family, but if you live with geniuses you learn how to read between the lines.

He somehow managed to flag down a taxi before telling them where to go. Not missing the slight judgment cross their face and Y/N wonders if they know he cannot hear them. Y/N wonders if they know he is being chased and he essentially is just digging a bigger and deeper hole for himself. The bars will get thicker and the chain will be heavier, but if that is the outcome of this, then Y/N believes that this will be worth it.

He clutched the bag closer.

When he arrives at the station, he knows his hour is up and he knows that Barbara is watching him through the cameras. She is watching him buy his ticket, and is retelling everything to his siblings. He knows this because in front of him is Nightwing, drawing a crowd and making everyone look around for the villain.

‘Going somewhere?’

‘Only temporarily.’

‘Temporarily is too long Y/N, let's go back home. Alfred has a peach cobbler ready.’ Nightwing held his hand out as if Y/N would actually take it. Which is fine, because Y/N knows through the giant circular mirror hanging from the ceiling, that Spoiler and Red Robin are behind him.

Y/N stared at the hand once more, and he wondered if this is what it feels like to know the path you should take and still choose the other one. Taking a deep breath, Y/N said the one word that would get everyone running. It would have people scrambling and trying to seek cover and get out of a place that made everyone have a close vicinity to each other.

“Joker!” Like someone shouting fire, the world was set into motion and Y/N watched as his view got obstructed by the rush of people. He disappeared within the crowds, dodging idle hands and ducking into the crowd. He may not be able to hear, but he can feel the panic that everyone else was feeling. Y/N saw parents pick their kids up, lovers grabbing each other’s hands, and strangers pushing and shoving other strangers.

He rushed down the escalator, towards the Amtrak that had his destination written all over it. Y/N didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Nightwing right behind him. He can feel the heavy and frantic gaze and if he could hear, without a doubt his name would be filling the air.

His heart picked up at the sight of the doors closing, and through some luck, he squeezed in at the last minute. The metal shutting behind him, and large latex covered hands slammed into the glass. Dick’s frantic face stared at him, and Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from creeping on his face.

How it must feel for the rabbit to slip through the Hunter’s fingers.

When the train began moving, Y/N wiggled his fingers in a mockery of a goodbye. He now sees why Jason loves teasing Dick. Dick’s angry expression really does tickle a sore spot in Y/N. Choosing a spot near the windows, Y/N prepared himself for the 10 hours train ride. The sun will not be rising when he gets there, but he never expected to make it to sunrise. Peering into the duffle bag next to him, Y/N gave a bitter smile and turned his attention back to the passing sight of Gotham city.

In the Batcave, everyone was pacing and figuring out the best way to do this.

“Are you sure that is where he is going?”

“For the last time, I saw his ticket, yes. He is going there!” Jason winced at Barbara’s raised voice and he grit his teeth in irritation. He massaged his temples, “Why North Carolina? What is even there?”

“The beaches.”

“No shit you little spawn, but which one.” Nightwing didn’t bother reproaching his brother, and instead tightened his fist. He was so close to grabbing his brother. So close.

The very knowledge that his little brother had barely escaped him stoked two different emotions in him. Pride in knowing that his brother was fast, fast enough to get away from him, and irritation because he did slip through Nightwing’s fingers. Batman didn’t seem bothered.

In fact he looked awfully relaxed for someone whose son had just hopped on a train to North Carolina. Nightwing glared at him, “You know where he’s going.” Batman shrugged, “An idea.”

“Where?”

“Y/N took his freediving gear, and there’s only one beach in North Carolina that is worth freediving.”

++++

Y/N felt the water encompass him, hugging his limbs and freeing him of gravity. The light attached to his forehead illuminates the sea and sees marine life at night. The train ride had been long and restless, but he did manage to at least sleep for 4 hours, before his nerves woke him up once more.

It was still dark, but at 4 am in the morning, it would be stupid to assume there would be any light. Navigating to the pier at Wrightsville Beach had been difficult, constantly looking over his shoulders to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Then there was the actual jumping off of the pier that if anyone saw would have the cops racing over.

Finally though, he was here. Swimming in the water and just letting himself be. It was a poor replication of freedom, but if this will be all he is allowed he’ll take it. Who knows how long it'll be before he could do something like this. Y/N isn’t stupid. He knows that Bruce knows where he is at.

He knows his siblings are on their way over. Probably letting him get off the Amtrak first before jumping in the Batplane, or maybe even the Batboat. Y/N surfaced, and took a deep breath before diving below the surface once more.

God, this was all a terrible joke but here it was happening. Y/N could have never imagined his family doing this. When he was younger, he chalked up Bruce’s need to constantly check on him as anxiety because it was the first time the man had a completely normal person in the house. Jason had always been touchy, and then Dick came along who would ruffle their hair. Tim would hold his forearm and Damian would follow him where he went.

It wasn’t weird at all. That was Y/N’s normal, until he went to college and started making friends. Friends who were mature enough to see past his lack of hearing and shared their own sibling experiences.

Experiences that didn’t match Y/N’s.

His little trip outside the country only proved it, and Y/N wondered if it was a bad thing he decided to do in person classes instead of online. If he did online, he would live in the fantasy that his family was normal and they loved him as a person. No red flags would be waving because Y/N wouldn’t even know they are flags.

He felt the water around him begin to vibrate and from the way the fish started spazzing out, Y/N knew his time was limited. How funny it would be if he never rose to the surface again.

Sinking a bit further, he looked towards the surface and watched as the water distorted and ripples began to form, each one acting as a timer. Closing his eyes, he held his breath as long as he could, until his lungs began to ache. Lightheadedness caused him to almost inhale water.

Rising to the surface, he could see the ominous black shape and the people looking over the edge. Here he was swimming back to his captors’ arms. Like a mouse headed for the trap. A fish into a net.

Y/N has never hated himself more then when he took that breath of air and met the sight of cowled Batman, and masked Robin and former Robins.

‘Ready?’

“Even if I wasn’t you’d still take me.”

‘You lost Y/N, get out of the water.’ He accepted the ladder thrown down to him, and as soon as he was within arm distance, Red Hood and Red Robin hoisted him over the edge of the boat and it was Robin handing him a towel. Taking off his snorkel and flippers, Y/N let himself be guided to the inside, where an unmasked Dick sat at one of the tables with two cups of coffee. Red Hood pushed Y/N into the seat, squishing his body against the window as he laid his giant self on him. Sighing in relief and going limp.

Y/N didn’t mind. From his seat, he watched the sunrays begin to slowly peak over the horizon. The warm glow gently illuminating the darkness, the sun not in sight yet but it’s very beginnings making itself known. Y/N wonders if one day, he can fall into the illusion of once more having a choice in his decisions. That there will be multiple paths in front of him instead of just one.

A large hand patted his head, and Y/N felt disgusted that he welcomed it. Back to normalcy. He has to go back to normalcy. If he didn’t, Y/N really does believe he will go crazy. His fate has been chosen from the start, and he knows that there is little chance of changing it. He knows that all of this comes from a sick and twisted form of love, and Y/N wonders if this is the type of love he has always been destined for.

The worst part is if given the choice to start over, Y/N wouldn’t stop himself from meeting Jason. He wouldn’t stop Jason from stealing the Batmobile tires, and he wouldn’t stop Jason from being Robin. He would try and stop Jason from dying, but he wouldn’t stop Tim from being Robin, or anything really. Y/N loves Jason, he loves his family, he loves their flaws and vices, even if it means letting go of somethings. His desire to be on his own was temporary anyways, only a few years and he would come back.

It was never good to have a ‘white whale.’ That is what Moby Dick taught everyone who read it.

If freedom was his white whale, then his family are the whalers. Killing it and completely destroying anything that made him want to chase it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Honestly.... I'm not to sure about the ending.

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shallyouobeyme · 7 months

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For the “spicy” prompt im imagining Platonic Yandere Batfam discovering your internet history, and having a confrontation about how you’re far too young for such things (reader is a full adult, not that the Batfam sees it that way).

I sadly already have something written out for today, but I really love this idea so I decided that I'd just go into the concept a bit as well - I mean I make the rules to this so I might as well use that power.

Okay, so I don't really write smut as of now because I don't read it and I do have not a lot of real-life experience so I figure it might just be a lot of cringy blabbering. But let's go with the 'spicey' meaning that horny adolescents will probably think of when reading the word in the context of fanfiction.

Now you're probably somewhere in the span of 16-20 in this scenario, old enough to live independently on your own, but young enough that the batfam can somehow justify it in their mind to treat you like a precious, fragile, little toddler. Sure, some of them logically know that you're basically a grown-up, but with how much effed-up shit they see every day they don't really wanna admit that to themselves and rather chose to act all 'I do not see'. And while that's all fine and dandy for them to do, it doesn't change the logical facts. Fact number one: You grew out of binkies and blankies like a decade ago, for god's sake Dick stop trying to make me take ten naps a day with them. Fact number two: Like I said, you're kind of (definitely) an adult and assuming that you have not always been the coddled little Wayne-baby that the Batfam wants to see you as you've probably been exposed to adult things before and aren't sensitive with seeing them. Like, guys, I was reading the news daily before you crazy people kidnapped me - stop talking about international crises as if the countries are people who have minor disagreements, okay? Fact number three: there comes a time in an adult's life when they might be craving a somewhat more intimate partner in their life - and no, Damian, I don't mean the bestest friend in the whole world forever, I mean a guy or a gal or a nonbinary pal who can rock your shit, if you get my drift (never dare say that to Damian out loud tho, you will be having your mouth washed out with soap). So while it might be a giant oversight on your part to not realize that all your precious internet time is completely monitored, you still probably haven't expected to be sat down by Bruce, Dick, Jason and Alfred and get a lecture on how you're way too little to look up these kinds of things (you looked up TikTok videos and happened to watch a few with TikTokers dancing in slightly less covered clothing) and how your mind is too undeveloped to grasp these big things you searched for (you looked up a statistic on the rate of kidnapping victims to get killed) and how you should keep playing your safe games instead of these violent ones (you looked at a game trailer for Cyberpunk 2077).

All your arguing falls on deaf ears. They just don't wanna hear that you're not their little, innocent baby. The only good thing is that they don't think you have enough logical thinking skills yet to properly grasp the situation so you'll be punished very lightly (a month without internet privileges). Once you're allowed to go online again though, you'll have to make do with the special kiddy-pad they got you with all the safety features and parental controls installed. So yeah, might wanna get used to being without the internet from now on...

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yanna-yuna · 2 months

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i was reading platonic yandere bat fam when the thought struck me: there's no way bruce wayne or any of his sons know what kosher is (alfred being the exception)

imagine bruce losing his shit over thinking you're trying to go on a hunger-strike......yeah he's quick to put a stop to that, demanding you finish the food on your plate

the rest of the batfamily, who are also at the dining table, silently nod in agreement, staring at you while you innocently blink a couple of times before looking back at the meat on your plate

"oh," you say "that. i just didn't know if it was kosher is all"

and the entire bat family is sitting there, the gears in their brain turning because "what is kosher???" and one or two of them even confront you about it, demanding to know why you're lying

--when Alfred, who witnessed the entire ordeal, leans over and explains "Master Bruce, kosher is a type of religious food, meaning the animal must be killed and prepared in a certain way, so as to satisfy the rules of kosher"

dick, jason, tim, and damian:

#batfamily #bruce wayne #batfam #x reader #imagine #crack post #yandere x reader #scenarios #gn reader #yandere #batman #dc #dc universe #dc x reader

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dreamsfullofwoe · 10 months

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The Yandere version of the Batfamily would likely respond to their darling's attempt to escape with intense possessiveness and obsession. Each member would exhibit different behaviors, but generally speaking, they would employ various tactics to prevent their darling from leaving. Batman might become even more vigilant and resourceful, using his skills and gadgets to track and apprehend them. Batgirl might become increasingly protective, resorting to stalking and intimidation to keep their darling within reach. Robin might display a mix of devotion and manipulation, using emotional tactics to dissuade their darling from leaving. Ultimately, the Yandere Batfamily would go to great lengths to ensure their darling remains under their control, potentially leading to dangerous and unhealthy situations.

#x reader #tw yandere #writing inspiration #writing prompts #soft yandere #writers #yandere writing #dc comcis #dc universe #writeblr #yandere male #yandere batfamily #yandere batman #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batboys

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certifiedredhoodlover · 2 months

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Obsession

bruce wayne x yandere!reader request by : @dickgraysonswife (prompt: yandere)

TW: yandere behaviour, reader obsessing over Bruce, bruce liking it,reader being violent,death mention.

Bruce knew not to mess around when it came to you. You were in love, yes. Obsessive, yes. And maybe a little bit of violent sometimes.

But bruce didn’t mind as long as you were careful.

He knew not to stick around women in his Galas because their end would come quickly and won’t be sweet. He knew it wasn’t right letting you murder innocent women just because you were jealous.

But he couldn’t help but like the thought of you liking him that much. So he paid no mind.

He loved the way you would cling on to him when you’re out together. Like someone would steal him from you. Sending death stares at every woman that looks or tries to talk to him.

He absolutely loves it.

And when a pathetic pest, as you call women, actually succeeds at talking to him when you’re not around. Oh, it’s over for her.

Bruce better be prepared to see her hanging from a light pole, drenched in blood on TV the next day. Everyone has to understand some way or another that he belongs to you only and no one is allowed near him.

{AYO IM BACK IM SO SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO FREAKING LONG, I’m drowning in school work}

#dc x reader #batman #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x yandere!reader #request #dc comics #dc universe #dceu #dcu #batman x reader

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interstellarspacecadett · 3 months

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DIVORCING

WARNING!

Do not read if you're not 18+ years old.

Sex and strong language

Controlling male protagonist

English is not my first language. I'm so sorry if there are some grammar mistakes.

I finally did it, I filed for divorce. My husband, Bruce Wayne and I have been on different paths for quite a long time.

It wasn't an easy decision since we adopted Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Our sons meant the world to us, or at least to me. He wasn't around the majority of the time, I took care of my sons, and he was nowhere to be found. Always so busy, always so distracted and thinking about something else. We lacked intimacy. When he was around, he was cold and full of rage. No one could talk to Bruce if Bruce himself didn't talk to that person first.

I had enough, I had to step out of our marriage, I wanted to start again, but not with Bruce. It was the right decision, I needed attention, I needed love, not someone who made me doubt myself, someone who was a ghost, someone who didn't care at all about anything. I used to spend a lot of time after our kids, and I stopped taking care of myself. It showed, I always had a tired face, lacked energy, and I was distracted worrying about my husband. I gave too much to someone who didn't deserve even half of it.

My new apartment was in uptown Gotham, and it was spacious with many modern features. I felt alone the majority of the time, but it had to be this way, I needed to be alone for some time.

After I filed for divorce, I didn't expect Bruce's reaction. He called me, it was the first time in moths that we had a good conversation.

"Honey, come back home" He said with a low tone of voice.

I started to cry, I started to tremble reviving my experience in that place I stopped calling home.

"You know what you put me though. You do. You stopped loving me, I was alone taking care of the kids. The only help I had was Alfred. You don't even know that I used to cry myself to sleep because of you. " Tears started to roll down my face. It was painful and atrocious suffering like that for someone with always an excuse.

"The kids miss you, Alfred and the dogs too. I miss you"

Same warm tone, sweet words to lure me back in that snare of marriage.

"Why weren't you there for me? All this time, I suffered. Bruce, I deserve to be happy. "

I couldn't stop my tears, I was crying so desperately.

"You do. With me, the kids and Alfred."

"Not with you. Not anymore."

"Baby. We're not gonna have a divorce, think about Damian. Uh?. How is he gonna take it? Living in two different homes, his parents divorced... We can not make him go through all of this."

Same tone. Same warm voice. All calculated.

"He talks to me about you all the time. And he asks me when you're gonna come back to us. He calls his mommy at night. He looks out for you. He sleeps a lot in our bedroom, and he says it still has your scent. Think about Jason, you're the only woman he ever accepted in his life. He's angry now. He says it's time for us to get back together. Tim, he never comes out of his room, and when he does, it's because he hopes you're back. And how could we forget about Dick. He's devoured with anger towards me. Honey, you do understand that all I do is to protect you and the boys, to make you all be alright when one day I won't be here anymore? One day, I might not be back home. But I want you and the boys to never worry about anything. You're all I have and care about."

Bruce sounded so sincere, and it was the thing that made me melt. The kids. I missed them, I did more than anything.

But he would be back to his old ways, disappearing, not making love to me, not being there for the kids.

"Bruce, I gotta go, now."

"I'm gonna call you tomorrow at the same time." He sounded like he was ending a business meeting, I've heard that cold tone before.

"I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea." I said, looking out of the window, hoping to see him in his costume watching over me. He later confessed to me that he always watched me from the dark.

"I wasn't asking. Sleep tight, beautyful."

"Good night, Bruce."

He called me the following day at the same time.

We talked about the kids. He then planned to move out of the manor to a more tranquil place with the kids. I smiled for the first time in a while. He made me think it was still possible to be together again.

After our call, he wished me good night and promised to call the following day. My lawyer advised me to stop interacting with Bruce, to stop all the calling, and sweet nothings on the phone. All of that needed to stop before going to court.

He called me at the same time, but I never answered following my lawyer's advice. Other two months passed, and nothing had changed. I visited the kids when Bruce wasn't home. He was right they weren't happy about all the divorce thing, especially Damian, who I saw crying for the first time.

A week passed, and after talking to my lawyer, I headed back to my apartment. It was cold and lonely as always.

I had one voice message to listen to. Bruce never sent me one before. He preferred calling me and talking on the phone.

But, he surprised me.

"Honey, we should talk in person. We can find an arrangement, no lawyers, just you and me. Wayne Manor, Saturday, December the 21st, 8 o'clock. Goodnight, sweetheart. Looking forward to our meeting. "

The first thing I did was to call my lawyer and fix an appointment for the following morning so we could discuss the new matter.

"He sounds sincere." My lawyer said after I made him listen to the message Bruce sent me.

"He does. When he wants to." I remarked.

"You should go. If we proceed with this divorce, be ready for the media, your kids under more unwanted attention, and not to talk about the shitstorm. I'll give you the papers with the reasons why you filed for divorce and all the other stuff. "

At 5 o'clock that Saturday, I started to prepare myself, emotionally and physically. Bruce was unpredictable.

I dressed formal, white shirt, long black skirt and high heels. He sent me a driver, his old ways. The driver and I stayed in silence for all the time we took to get to Wayne Manor.

Before knocking at the immense door, I took a deep breath.

The doors opened just in time for me to see Bruce getting down the stairs.

He was so elegant, formal, and handsome he didn't look nothing like the last time we saw each other. He was taking care of himself. He seemed warm and not cold as an ice cube.

He greeted me with a warm hug without saying anything. There was nothing to say.

I was about to get used to that warm ambrace, but he pulled away and guided me to the conference room.

He pulled the seat for me, and he seated next to me at the table top.

"Come closer, honey. I gotta see these papers of yours."

He pulled my chair closer to him to the point where I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

"You look so beautiful, baby, and you smell so good. You know this is my favourite perfume? So sweet." He smiled.

My heart started to beat faster, and all that praising made my legs crush one against the other unintentionally.

"You always have been the most beautiful woman in the room. The smartest. The funniest. The most breathtaking. " He kept praising me. He smiled mischievously, knowing what those compliments did to me.

Fuck, I wanted more.

It had been such a long time of abstinence that I was starving with kisses and sex.

He didn't touch me, yet, but he knew it was all it needed to break me.

"So pretty. This high bun siuts you perfectly. It lets glow the skin on your neck."

He finally did it. He touched me with his big, warm calloused hand. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep it all together. He massaged one of my shoulders and my neck admiring every expression of mine. I put my hand on his without even knowing, and I started to carress it.

"Bruce, please." I begged him to let go of me. To free me from his control, it was so sweet and painful at the same time. He placed one kiss on my hand and one on my neck. I was about to lose it.

"The papers." I remembered him, trying to free myself from his touch.

He stopped every movement, he composed himself, and asked me to read for him.

I came down from my high and started to read the summary.

"Getting to this point of my relationship with my husband, Bruce Wayne, was never my intention. [...]But it was forced to me since during these last months I have been neglected, starved with affection.[...] This behaviour doesn't apply only on me, but on my kids as well. [...]I can no longer live and be in a relationship that doesn't represent the words love, family, and unity for the previously mentioned reasons[...]"

As I was reading, he kept his eyes on me, and I swear I felt completely naked burning under his sight. He pressed a kiss on my cheek and formed a trail of soft kisses to the corner of my mouth.

He kissed my lips and stopped me before arriving to read to half of the second sheet. I waited for so long. His lips were soft and hungry for mine. We kissed slowly, taking our time, making out like two teenagers in love. He was so gentle embracing me like the most precious of jewels. A moan escaped my mouth, making him kiss me deeply and vulgarly. I loved every second of it. He had never tasted that sweet, so perfect. As we pulled away, he murmured to me:

"You know that we're not getting this divorce, right?" Just to then start kissing me again.

We ended up standing up, kissing and hugging each other like nothing ever changed.

He then proceeded to kiss my neck, devouring it up. His hands trailed down to my ass, caressing it and squeezing it tight in his hands. I moaned, letting myself go to the pleasure.

"Bruce"

"Feels good, doesn't it, baby?" His voice echoed in my head. All I could think about was just him and the pleasure he was intoxicating me with.

"So good." I moaned.

I forgot about everything.

"That lawyer of yours, I don't like him. He looks at you like a beast in heat. "

He went behind my back, putting his clothed erection against my butt, to let me know what I did to him. He was so big, so hard, and so ready for me. I got wetter and hornier just at the thought of it.

He kept licking and biting my neck, letting me get higher and higher.

He unbuttoned my shirt, freeing my breast just to then undo my bra and let it fall to the ground on top of my shirt.

He pinched my nipples while thrusting his erection against my ass.

"You're my wife. My property, all mine. Mine and only mine." He kept going on teasing me, provoking me and making me melt under his touch.

"Yours." I was out of my mind. The power he had on me was getting stronger second by second, minute by minute.

"There is no divorcing. I don't wanna ear none of that. Did I make myself clear,baby?" I melted more.

"Yes. Oh, Bruce."

In one move, he freed me from my skirt, letting it fall down to the ground with the rest of my clothes.

He soon had one hand on my brest and one between my legs caressing my clit, making me feel good.

"This fucking cunt. So fucking wet for me, uh? Gonna make you feel so good, baby, so fucking good" With that promise, my hopes went high as my mind.

"Moan for me like that. Making my dick so fucking hard, uh?"

"I'm gonna fuck you really good. I'm gonna make you cum on this useless papers. So fucking mine." He continued teasing me.

He put one finger in me, and it was enough to make me moan louder and cum. I had no chance of winning against him.

He then made me sit on the big mahogany table. He spread my legs, exposing my wet, pulsing cunt. He took a good look at it, then at me. He buried his face between my legs, kissing, licking, and eating me out. I was lost in pleasure. Meanwhile, he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his toned body.

He was like a god.

He started to play and enjoy himself by butting two fingers in me and licking my clit like a starved man.

"So good. Oh my god, just like that." I moaned, enjoying myself.

He moved his free hand to my breast, caressing one at the time, to later intertwine his hand with mine.

"My baby. Looking so good like this, legs wide open on my expensive table. Uh?" I came with those words, and as he predicted, I soaked all the papers.

I tried to catch my breath, but he didn't give me time. His mouth was already on mine.

We kissed again and again.

"I'm so in love with you." He said lowly on my ear.

I smiled. It all seemed like a dream, a happy one. A utopia.

"I mean it." He said, looking at me in the eyes.

It was true. All of it. Bruce never lied.

"Now I know." I said before kissing him.

"Now let's get to the real deal. I still haven't cum. And I know a good place where I can stick it in"

"I don't know where." I said provoking him while leaning back on the table. My back met the cold surface.

I lifted my legs to Bruce's torso.

He removed my heels, kissing my feet.

He was so dirty and perverted. And I loved it.

He was looking at me straight in the eyes. Those blue obs darkened as he submissed me even more.

"You taste so fucking sweet." He said, liking the base of one of my feet.

I got wetter, hornier, and hungrier for more. I needed more.

He slowly put his zip down, freeing his cock with his pants still on and buckled.

He pulled me closer to the edge of the table by my tights. Not long after, he was inside of me, slowly exploring me like it was the first time. I was so full of his flesh. It was so big and hard that I could feel every vein on his surface. He then opened my legs, getting closer to me, just to whisper to me the dirtiest words. I had goosebumps all over my body.

"Bruce, fuck me harder."

He did as I commanded without further discussion, he thruster deeper in me, touching all my weakest spots. He made me cum uncontrollably, fucking me to the gates of heaven.

"Like this? Uh?"

"Just like that." I moaned, hugging him harder.

"This cunt is so fucking good. So fucking tight. Gonna make me cum, baby."

He moaned against my skin.

"Fuuuck. Oh my love!" I was out of my mind, I had pleasure all in my veins, I couldn't control anymore what came out of my mouth.

"Yeah. Feels good uh?" He kissed me not waiting for an answer.

He went faster, harder on me, I couldn't get enough, I was on cloud nine. Bruce hugged me like our lives depended on that. I came on and on, and my body was exhausted. Bruce kept going on fucking me senseless, moaning, letting himself go. His body was warm against my skin, his touch so sweet .

"I love you, my beautiful wife. I love you so much." He looked at me straight to my face and smiled, finally a warm smile and not a calculated one.

"Y-you say that now that you're fucking m-me." I spit venom.

His movements started to get harder and more precise, trying to find my weakest spot.

"I. LOVE. YOU." He repeated harshly.

"Then fuck me like you mean it."

He smirked just to then increase his pace.

One hour later, we finally came to a stop. He rested his head between my brest. I had no energy, I was really exhausted so I closed my eyes and when I reopened them, it was already the next day.

Sun rays hit my face, I didn't want to wake up. The bad was so warm and soft. It wasn't the bed I got used to in my cold apartment. It was Wayne Manor's.

I lifted my hand trying to find Bruce, hoping that all the things we said the previous night would have become true, and finally, we could all get back to be a big family.

He wasn't there. My heart sinked. I pulled myself up, and I was completely naked. I headed to Bruce's walk-in closet, hoping to find something that could suit me, just to then leave. I found all my clothes in there, including the ones I wore the night before.

I dressed up, opting for a cream coloured sweatshirt, tight blue jeans, and a pair of white trainers.

I collected my phone and my bag and headed downstairs.

"Where are you going?" His voice echoed in my head, and his firm tone stopped my movements.

I turned around, and he looked like he had just come out of the shower. He wore a towel, and little water drops were running from his head down to his weist. With his hands, he held a plate with breakfast on it and a fresh red rose.

He placed the plate on a dresser, and he moved slowly closer to me.

"Alfred is not here, I had to arrange something myself. I know you like strawberries."

He caressed one of my cheeks, kissed my forehead, and hugged me. I hugged him back with my heart pounding in my chest.

"You just had to stay in bed and wait for me a little longer. I wanted to surprise you with a delicious meal and good morning sex."

I smiled and hugged him tighter, finally understanding his intentions.

"You smell so good." I said, sniffing his chest.

"We can shower together after breakfast and good sex." We kissed and ended up in bed again, skipping breakfast and going straight to devouring each other.

We had breakfast after two rounds, and then we showered.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." He said, caressing my hair while hot water was running down on our bodies.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." I responded, smiling. He smiled back at me, and we kissed again.

That day we went to the beach, it was warm despite being winter. He looked so handsome, happy, and relaxed. It was at that moment that I finally saw the man I fell in love with. He looked young, well-kept, and glorious under the sunlight.

"What, honey?" He asked me.

"You're so handsome." I said, looking away since I was getting shy.

"Come here. Let me kiss you one more time. "

"You gotta catch me first." I smiled, seeing the confused face he made.

I ran, and he chased after me. My intention was never to get too far away from him, I couldn't anyway even in my dreams. He eventually caught me and threw me over his shoulder. He spanked one of my butt cheeks, making me laugh.

Not too long after, he put me down and caught my cheeks between the palms of his hands. We kissed once more.

There were sparks materialising around us. It was all so perfect.

To be continued...

Hope you liked it

Shotout to

For inspiring my story.

♡♡♡ Thank you for reading ♡♡♡

#bale!bruce wayne #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #dc universe #christian bale #x reader #batman x reader #yandere #yandere bruce wayne

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nobody-zero3000 · 4 months

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Ideas

I've been interested in Batfamily members and MCU characters lately. But I've been having some future ideas.

Yandere/Non-Yandere? Batboys (Separately or together?) x Mystique! Reader

Yandere/ Non-Yandere Damian Wayne/Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne (separately) x Black Widow Assassin (trained & mentored by Natasha Romanoff & Avengers)! Reader

Yandere or Non-Yandere Batboys x Powerful MCU Hero! Reader who arrives in the DCU and saves them in their most troubled time. The reader has a seventh sense like Captain Marvel is always at the right place and time to help them, like saving Jason from death after being tortured by Joker, saving Tim from being tortured and becoming Joker Jr., saving Dick from being raped by Tarantula or being shot in the head, or becoming Joker's sidekick, saving Damian from being stabbed and killed by his clone, Heretic, or saving him from being killed by Darkseid.

FYI I'll still focus on the Yandere Batfamily x Amidala! Reader series, but I thought of sharing my ideas.

Also I recently posted an update on ideas.

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dumpster-dive-reading · 1 year

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Yandere Harley Quinn x Nurse/Medical Assistant Reader

So I've read quite a few of these Yandere x Reader fics, and I decided to try writing one of my own after getting inspired by this post from @anxiousnerdwritings

Go check out their blog, they have more experience writing this kind of thing than I do, and their work is super good.

(Fair warning that I am quite new to the DC universe and writing x reader fics, so this may not be perfect)

Warnings: This is a yandere romance, so obsessive behaviors, mild violence, possessive stuff, some mild sleep touching. Not anything too intense.

Four years of studying criminal psychology, hours upon hours of going through disturbing case studies, reading transcripts of Joker’s interview tapes- nothing could have prepared you for this. Perhaps for the average underpaid intern, working at Arkham was draining, tedious, depressing work- working just a few feet away from the most dangerous criminals in Gotham was surprisingly dull. But you weren’t average- no, you had hope for these criminals- and that certainly caught her attention.

Harley could remember the first time she laid eyes on you. She had heard that there’d be some new folks coming into Arkham. The inmates began to make bets on how quickly the first ones would leave. She wasn’t all that interested, she’d seen far too many people come and go. It was always the same excuses: “these criminals are just far too scary” or “someone stabbed me, I really don’t want to come into work tomorrow”. They’d hire anyone in Arkham these days. These nurses couldn’t even take a tiny little death threat or twelve, they were so weak and scared. And threatening them was doing them a favor- if they couldn’t handle the little tiny knife she brought in, then what about the big tough guys like Riddler or Killer Croc? Or some really terrifying folks like Calendar man?

Thus, she didn’t expect to have any interest in the “fresh meat” at Arkham. Then again, nothing tends to go the way that Harley expects- she learned that lesson after being tossed into the chemical vats, and after kidnapping Batman, and after trying to win over that good-for-nothing Joker for years and years and years.

You walked into the room with Harley’s medicine. An assortment of pills in a neatly labeled paper cup, a bit of water alongside it. Your task was to get Harley to take her medicine- a task that meant you had half the patients the other nurses did. Harley was known for being a bit difficult with her medication, according to the charts. It was certainly a nice way of putting “threatened to feed a nurse to her hyenas”. Thus you had extras of her medications, and were told to get one of the guards to administer a sedative if she refused to take the medicine willingly. After a few tries being polite, most nurses would opt to either have Harley sedated or restrained while working with her. It was the first time in a while that she hadn’t been strapped up for med time.

At first, she simply watched you when you entered the room. She let her opponent make the first move, as a bit of a courtesy.

“Miss Quinzel” you said “I have your medication here for you to take”

“It’s Doctor, actually. If you’re playing the polite game, you should use the right titles” Harley responded.

“I do believe your record states your medical license has been suspended due to your… condition” you reply.

“Yes, yes, of course, but I didn’t spend all that time studying for nothing. I earned that doctor in front of my name, so you’d better use it.”

“Of course, Dr.Quinzel. I have your medication here for you”.

“And why should I take those little pills, hm? What if they’re tryin’ to poison me?”

“Aren’t you immune to poison?”

She laughed at that. “Alright, I see the new doctor here has looked at my file. Did your research. Tell me, what else do you know about me? D’ya know my body count? My other body count?”

“I just know the information that was on your file, Miss- I mean, Doctor Quinzel”.

“Well, maybe we’ll get to know eachother better” Harley stated a bit suggestively.

“Would you take your meds please, Doctor Quinzel?” you asked.

Harley wasn’t certain what to do. On one hand, you were treating her like a real person, and Harley desperately didn’t want to lose that. On the other hand, as soon as she took her meds, you’d be gone- plus she really didn’t want to take her meds. They made her feel nauseous for the first hour after taking them. A normal side effect, she knew, but taking her meds was by far the worst part of her day.

But looking at you, Harley felt the urge to play along. She wanted to see you smile. Would you smile if she took her medicine? She hoped so. And wasn’t your smile worth being a little sick for an hour or so?

She swallowed the pills in the little paper cup.

“Thank you” you said with a smile. She loved that smile of yours, she wished she could lock it up in a box and carry it with her forever. It was perfect- you were perfect. But Arkham was dangerous for perfect people like you- people with hope and kindness. She decided right then and there that she needed to protect you, to keep you so absolutely perfect for her.

The next day, she had waited for you to arrive with her medications. She had spent all day excited for your presence. There wasn’t much else to do at Arkham, so she daydreamed about how to make the most of the few minutes you spent together. She fantasized about spending it with her arms wrapped around you, her head on your chest listening to your heartbeat. That was impossible with the glass between you two, but a gal can dream can’t she? But when the door opened, someone else was there.

“You’re a different face- where’s the one who was here yesterday” Harley snarled at the strange nurse.

“On another rotation- now take your meds” said the other nurse, thrusting the meds into Harley’s face.

“No, no. I don’t want those pills- I want the ones that the doctor brings me”

“Doctor?”

“The person who came by yesterday.”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about. Besides, your prescription hasn’t changed. They’re the same exact pills”

“They’re completely different.” Harley argued back. Of course they were the same exact pills, but Harley wasn’t above being petty with this argument. She didn’t want to take the pills if they weren't from you.

Fourty minutes of arguments later, the nurse left, and came back with two guards. Two knocked-out guards later, and the nurse returned with you.

“Doctor Quinzel?” you called out, entering the room. You spotted the two knocked out guards, and a shiver went down your spine. The other nurse hadn’t warned you about what Harley had been up to- only stating that Harley wanted to see you, and needed to take her meds.

“If it isn’t my favorite doctor” Harley called out. “I missed you, you know?”

“I’m not a doctor,” you replied. “Just a psychiatric medical assistant. And did you hurt these people?”

“They’ll be over it in the morning, promise. I didn’t want to scare you with any dead bodies, you know.”

“Doctor Quinzel, why did you-”

“I’m sorry!” Harley sobbed “I just got so scared without you. Please don’t abandon me- please please please. I promise I’ll be good, just don’t leave me hanging again.”

You weren’t expecting her to break out into tears. “What do you mean, Doctor Quinzel?”

“I-I-I waited all day for you to come, and you left me for some other patients!”

So the murder clown had abandonment issues. Who would’ve guessed?

“Fine, fine. Will you take your medications now, Doctor?” you offered her the exact same medicine cup as the ones Harley had previously slapped to the floor, and Harley gladly took them from you.

“Of course” she said, swallowing her pills nicely. She hoped that would make you smile, but your expression hadn’t changed.

“You can’t be attacking people like that, Doctor Quinzel. They just want to help you” you said, trying to reassure her. Harley however, knew they didn’t care the way that you did. You were the only one who really did want her to get better. The others couldn’t care less. They gave her the pills out of fear- fear of the danger she posed without them. That or an automatic sense of duty. That automatic response- apathy- was worse than fear. You could see it in a person’s eyes, like the light that could have been there was gone.

It was one of the things Harley liked about Joker back in the day. His eyes were bright with purpose. Joker was a contradiction- he never really cared about the world, and yet he lived with such a strong sense of purpose. You were different. You shined with care, wanting to make the city better. It reminded Harley of herself, well before she became Harley Quinn. You were a shining light in the darkness of Gotham.

And Harley became more and more worried that the darkness would engulf you. She felt like she needed you closer, she needed to protect you, to save you.

It wasn’t hard convincing her psychiatrist that she needed you to be by her side more often. You were the medical assistant that she could actually trust, the one that she would listen to. You were like a security blanket to her- as she convinced the psychiatrist to put it- she felt safe around you, and feeling safe made her less violent. It wasn’t long before the doctors realized that for any procedure with Harley, she would be more cooperative if you were by her side. Thus, your job description shifted from “General Psychiatric Medical Assistant” to “Psycho Clown’s Therapy Dog”. Thus for most of Harley’s treatments and procedures, you’d be right there by her side, keeping her sane. The light in her darkness.

Of course, Arkham was understaffed. You couldn’t spend every single moment of your work day with Harley, as much as she wanted that. There were other patients that needed to be tended to. Unfortunately, Harley was kept away from the other patients due to her “violent tendencies”, so she couldn’t watch you with the others. She was kept in a cell all by herself, meaning that whenever you were away, she’d be alone with nothing but her thoughts of you.

Thus she needed to be on her best behavior to convince the doctors that she was getting better. She would take her medicine, she’d comply with the treatments, she’d do everything perfectly. You made her better, can’t you see that? When the doctors finally agreed to let her mingle with the other patients, she was so excited. Sure she was kept in a straight jacket the whole time, but it was all worth it so she could watch you.

Soon after Harley was let out a bit more, you noticed the other inmates of Arkham being quite a bit nicer to you. They’d comply with your requests to take their medicine, they wouldn’t harass you anymore (in fact, the ones who used to be a bit more difficult for you to deal with ended up injured randomly). For some reason, a few of them seemed to fear you.

Harley still didn’t like that you weren’t there every single day for her. She didn’t like it when you’d go home in the evenings, and she certainly didn’t like spending her nights alone. She wished you’d stay with her, or take her with you.

Which is why she was so devastated when you mentioned leaving Arkham to go to Graduate School.

“Sugar, why’s that stuffy old college so important to ya anyway?” Harley asked you.

“I want to make the world a better place, help people like you, Harley”. You had started calling her Harley after she requested it. “Besides, I can’t stay a simple assistant forever”.

“So you’re just gonna leave me here alone?”

“You’ll be fine Harley, the doctors will take care of you. I want to further my studies in psychology, and I kind of need to go to college to do that”.

So Harley formulated a plan to keep you by her side.

It took a fair bit of work to convince you to keep working at Arkham while attending Graduate School. Harley, like the good friend she was, helped you with your applications. Of course, she helped you the most with applications for schools in Gotham. You ended up getting accepted, and enrolled in the most prestigious of Gotham’s psychology departments. It helped that you had such extensive work experience with Arkham. She convinced you to keep working with her, gaining some “first hand experience working with a real life nutcase” as she put it. Thus your job at Arkham changed again. You no longer saw any other patients (much to Harley’s elation). You were to work with Harley exclusively during the night, and go to school during the day. It worked well for you, considering that the damage done to Doctor Quinzel did not impact her extensive knowledge of psychology. She would help you study, offering her professional insight on your courses.

But attending psychology classes, you came to realize that your relationship with Harley was… problematic. Thus, with the assistance of your professors, you designed a new research project: freeing Harley of her dependency on you.

“Harley, would you be okay if I wasn’t here tomorrow?”

“Sugar, why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“Well, I was thinking of having an extra day off, you know, just having a ‘me’ day”.

“That sounds like an absolute blast! You should do that here some time, sugar, I’d love to spend the day relaxing with you”

“That’s just the thing, Harley, I want to spend it alone”

“Uh huh”

“That means without you”

“No- no way! You can’t leave me here, sugar! I’d be so lonely without you. You know I need your sweetness in my life, hon.”

“Harley, that isn’t healthy. You need to be able to handle being by yourself-”

“No.” She shouted, her tone suddenly far more serious. “You will never leave me- got that sugar? You can never ever get away, I’ll never let you go.” She grabbed your arm, clawing into it with her nails. “We’re together, forever, honey.”

Your eyes widened in terror.

“Now how would you like this macaroni necklace I made just for you?” she said sweetly, as though she hadn’t just threatened you.

When you didn’t show up for work the next day, Harley was very worried. Had she really made you that scared? Sure, she might’ve threatened you a little bit, and maybe her grasp left a couple little scratches on your arm, but she didn’t mean to. She’d never hurt you. Never never never. You were her sugar, she’d do anything for you. Just ask, and she’d do it- no questions. Who do you want her to kill? Just say the name and they’re gone, sugar, she’d do it all for you. Please don’t leave her, you can do anything you want to her, but you can’t leave her. You have no reason to leave- your good friend Harley will take care of everything for you.

No, you wouldn’t leave her. You were her perfect sugar, you’d never abandon her like that. You wanted her to be better, you made her better. She was trying to get better for you, and she was trying very very hard. It was difficult, especially when you would talk to the security guards and your attention would be on them and not her, and then her head would rush with all the different ways she could make sure those worthless guards wouldn’t steal your attention away from her ever again. But she wouldn’t touch them, because it would make you so disappointed and sad to see them get hurt, even if Harley knew that they were nothing compared to you. She couldn’t bear to make you sad.

So why weren’t you there? It had already been twenty minutes past when you were supposed to arrive, and you weren’t there by her side. What if someone hurt you? What if one of Joker’s men got to you, and was about to shove you into one of the chemical vats. That would change you forever, and she’d lose her precious sugar, Harley couldn’t have that, no. Or what if something worse happened- what if you were shot, and dyin’ in the streets, all while Harley was locked up in here unable to protect you? What if you were trapped in the old abandoned well, crying out for someone to come save you, only for no one to be there because Harley was locked up in here? No, no, no. Harley couldn’t have that, she couldn’t lose you.

Breaking out of Arkham was easy- she had done it before plenty of times. Finding your house was even easier, of course she knew where you lived, as though she didn’t know everything about her precious sugar. She found you lying in bed, sleeping through a horrible fever. Harley breathed a sigh of relief- you were okay, you were safe. She climbed through your window, watching you as you slept. You were perfect, ya know that? And finally, finally she was right here by your side. She reached out her hand- gently brushing up against your leg. So soft, so peaceful, so perfect.

You woke up, your mind a bit foggy due to your sickness, with a psycho clown wrapped around you. She held your body tightly, her head resting on your chest.

“Harley?” you asked.

“Yes, sugar?”

“What are you doing in my house”?

“Aw, just lying next to my sweet sugar.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be back at Arkham?”

“Yeah, but I like it here, with you.” She nuzzled against your chest, squeezing you tighter into her embrace.

It took a few minutes to notice the blood all over Harley- blood that she had smeared onto your own body. “Harley- what did you do?” you said, the shock stirring you from your fever induced haze.

“What I had to, darling. I needed you with me, safe and by my side.”

“But you can’t kill people, Harley!”

“I’m sorry, sugar. I was just so scared, lots of bad people are out there in Gotham. Anything could happen to ya, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt or dyin’ on me, so I had to come out and keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you, trust me. I love you so much, sugar. So, so much.”

#I actually wrote something for a change #fanfic #dc comics #yandere fanfic #yandere x reader #batman universe #Harley Quinn x reader #Yandere Harley Quinn #harleen quinzel x reader #yandere harley quinn x reader

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