#prince alfred x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

klemen-tine · 11 days

Text

No Prince Charming

(Batfam x Mom!Reader)

Anonymous asked:

Hello, I really like your work.

I saw that you have an open request, so I want to share an idea that has been sitting in my head for a long time.

Reader married Bruce for convenience. (In my head, the reader is a woman, but I'll leave it to your taste) The wedding takes place shortly before the appearance of the first Robin. Bruce and reader have a cold relationship. Reader comes from the wealthy population of Gotham. Therefore, reader is well educated and intelligent. So after a while, when Dick already appears, reader understands what her husband does at night. But reading doesn't say anything about it or hint at it. The reader doesn't want to get involved in any of this, it scares her. And although the reader is planning a divorce, she takes care of all the members of her new family. And although she is neglected in the family, the reader becomes a parental figure for children. But the children won't admit it. When Damian appears, the reader doesn't say a word to Bruce. But Damian treats reader very badly. And that becomes the trigger. The reader slips Bruce the divorce papers.(not to mention that they are getting divorced, since Bruce is likely to protest) and when Bruce signs them, he leaves the estate, leaving the divorce papers and the wedding ring on the bed when no one notices. And only then does the family realize what they have done with their neglect of reader. Their yandere trait is waking up in them and now they need to somehow find their reader.

Sorry if it's too much.

And I apologize for the English, I am writing with a translator

❤

Warning: Non-consensual drugging, not descriptive sex. It's just mentioned, no details. Hinted at Dick's trauma with his sidekick.

It was a marriage of convenience. That's all it was. Bruce Wayne knew Y/N L/N since childhood, and while they weren’t close, Y/N was the only one who never treated him any differently after his parents were murdered. Maybe it's because her own father was murdered, and she understood that sometimes the greatest support was to act like nothing changed.

Fast forward to young adults, Bruce Wayne was now Brucie in public, and Y/N was the unstoppable woman leading her own company by the reins. Bruce had come to her with an offer, one that had her brows raised and painted lips smirking. For Bruce Wayne, this will help solidify his position as someone who was not Batman, and for Y/N it would finally silence the hecklers that gnawed at her heels and bit into her shoulders.

A frigid marriage, filled with cold greetings, Brucie still entertaining women, Y/N still controlling her company with painted lips, and rumors surrounding them. Despite the coldness, Y/N knew a lie when she saw one. She knows a front when she comes face to face with one, and it is why when she saw Batman in the hallways of Wayne manor, staring at her in shock and apprehension, she rolled her eyes and continued to sip her wine as she made her way back to her office.

“Please don’t stain the carpet. Alfred just shampooed them.” They never brought it up again. Bruce was no Prince Charming, despite the front he put on for strangers. There were no whispered promises, no flowers, no gifts, nothing but ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes.’

Then, along came Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson. A child who had blinked up at her with large blue eyes, and Y/N could feel her heart crumble. She had welcomed him with open arms and smiles. She had welcomed all of the Robins in. Her manicured nails getting shorter each time, so she doesn’t have to fear hurting one of them, and her smiles became softer. Y/N had never tried to replace any of their mother’s, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one.

But it was Bruce they had a closer bond with. Which is why they started following his behavior towards her. Clipped words and rolling of eyes were common, as were the cold shoulders and tense silences.

“You’re not my mom! So stop asking how school was!” Y/N stared at Jason in shock and curiosity about where that outburst had come from. Alfred was the only one to say anything. A stern, “Master Jason,” and a look that had even Bruce cowering had the young boy apologizing. Y/N ignored the way her heart slowly broke, as the quirky child full of smiles, sass, and who loved classics, turned his back on her.

As if she wasn’t the one to introduce those books to him.

Y/N doesn’t blame them for their cold behavior towards her. She doesn’t blame Dick’s disregard, Jason’s hurtful words, Tim’s cynical looks, Steph’s taunts, and Damian’s heated actions.

Y/N had cried at Jason’s funeral, she helped Bruce fight for custody for Tim, she had consoled Dick after some of his own traumatic experiences, and she sat there and listened as Damian compared her and Talia. Talia, of all people. She had met the woman once, and Y/N had nodded at her. Y/N never judged Bruce for sleeping with the woman. Hell, Y/N would have too. Y/N can recall the day Damian came to their manor, and the short look Dick had given her when she and the child made eye contact.

Y/N doesn’t know if it was a look of concern or mockery, but she knows he did look.

She was there for Richard when his trauma with his sidekick happened. He may have never told her, but Y/N is a woman. A woman who has known people that have suffered the same way Dick has. That are still suffering like he is.

“I’m sorry Richard.”

“What do you even know?! You know nothing! Absolutely nothing so just butt out!” Dick glared at her with blue eyes that had put the arctic water to shame. Y/N stood there and took it all. She stood proudly with her shoulders back and chin up.

In public, she was a stoic mother keeping the children in check while Bruce goofed off. She was the woman who failed her children, because she chose to continue running her business. Her very, very, very successful business. A business that had taken her and her mother from the bottom of High Society, to the top 10%. A series of great investments, smart marketing, and pretty words have lined her pockets with money that she could easily retire on.

Yet, all that money couldn’t save her mother. The woman died of a heart attack, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Y/N could do besides bury her mother.

“Bruce please.”

“I am busy.”

“I know but Bruce, this is my–”

“Ask Alfred.” He had turned his back and Y/N was stuck staring at the retreating man with a new feeling of heartbreak. The tabloids ate up that she was alone at her mother’s funeral. A private event that no one was allowed into besides close family and friends.

When she came back, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, Damian had picked the time to make his disdain known again, “–and my mother would have never let herself go like that. You look horrid, unbefitting of a Wayne. A disgrace.”

Blank E/C eyes stared into raging green and she sighed, “Thanks, Damian.” She spared him no glance after that, and she walked towards her bedroom to take a hot shower. It was there, under the hot spray of water that she finally cried. She cried for the last part of family she had, and the years she lost from marrying a man who didn’t even like her enough to attend a godforsaken fucking funeral. She cried for the children she couldn’t even call her own.

She cried for the life she missed by marrying Bruce fucking Wayne.

“Honey, are you happy?”

“Of course Mama.”

“You never could lie to me sweetie.” Her mother kissed her forehead and looked into E/C eyes with nothing but love, “You’ve worked so hard, sweetie.” That acknowledgement alone had her almost in tears, “But please start working for yourself now.”

Taking a deep breath, Y/N hopped out of the shower and called her lawyer. Divorce papers were in her hands within 24 hours, and her bags packed in 3.

She stood next to Bruce, ignoring the scowl on his face as she ‘disrupted’ his work. Y/N kept her face neutral, because if she smiled it would give it all away, and handed him the page he needed to sign.

For a billionaire and for a vigilante, he sure didn’t read the damn paper. Which is fine. Great even, because now, after being here for over a decade, Y/N is free. She laughed in her room, laughing so hard that it almost tore her throat. Leaving a copy of it on Bruce’s bed once he was gone, she grabbed her suitcase and accidentally ran into Alfred on her way out the door.

The old man took a look at her clothes, her bags, and her expression before sighing, “Shall I drive you for the last time, Lady Y/N?” Y/N smiled, bitterly at the thought of leaving Alfred, her only solace in this cold mansion.

“To the airport, please.” The ride was silent, and Y/N didn’t look back as they left the gates of the mansion. It wasn’t until they were halfway there that Y/N spoke up, “My lawyer will call in a few days, just to hash out the details.”

“Is that so?”

“There’s nothing I want. No assets, no money, nothing will be taken, I just want a divorce.” She just wants the law to recognize that she is not a Wayne. That she will never be a Wayne.

“Lady Y/N, perhaps a check for compensation for the emotional strain would be nice?” Y/N laughed, bitterly and sad, “I don’t want his money. I want nothing to do with him anymore.”

“And the kids?”

“They don’t need me. They never did. I doubt they will even notice.” Gotham International Airport wasn’t crowded, and that may be because it was 1pm on a Tuesday. Alfred helped her with her bags, and the old man stared at the woman before him. He remembers meeting her for the first time, a confident young woman who had a way with words and was unfairly intelligent. Matching wits and able to speak confidently in a room of people who thought little of her.

It's good to see some of that coming back.

Y/N hugged Alfred, “Thank you, Alfred. For everything.” The older man sighed and watched as the woman took her bags and walked away. Not once did she look back and Alfred decided to stay until her form disappeared in the building. He sighed heavily and when got back in the car, he dialed a number he knew by heart. It only took three rings before the voice of the man he raised answered, “Alfred, is everything okay?”

“Master Bruce, I fear you may have lost something precious, and I do hope you, and the young masters, have a plan to make this up to them.” He hung up afterwards as he merged into traffic, and he hoped his message finally hit something within his son’s dense skull.

When he returned back to the manor, he began the preparation for making dinner. All was silent throughout the manor, until the door opened and the rush of the footsteps began marching towards him.

“Master Richard, I urge you to not run.”

“Bruce told me there was an emergency and to hurry to the manor?” Alfred sighed, “While it is an emergency, it is not one you can fix on your own.” No, this was something for Bruce to fix seeing tha all the problems stemmed from him.

Dick raised a brow, “What kind of emergency is it?” Alfred pursed her lips, “Miss Y/N Wayne is now Miss Y/N L/N once more.” He turned to look the man he has considered his grandson in the eyes, and he could see the revelation sink in.

“Y/N divorced Bruce?” Alfred nodded, “The papers have been signed.”

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Alfred raised a brow, “They are signed and waiting for him to read.” Dick slowly walked out of the kitchen, “Is she still here?” Alfred turned back to the food and Dick began speed walking towards Y/N’s room. As a child it never occurred to him why they would they never slept together, but as he got older he understood.

He knocked on her doors, calling her name like he used to as a kid.

Dick had always understood that Bruce’s and Y/N’s relationship was not one of a couple in love. He also understood that Y/N’s treatment in the manor by the residents of the manor was unfair. Whenever he could, he would correct Damian’s harsh words, but even he himself couldn’t fully bring himself to be all that kind to her.

He tried. He desperately tried, because he saw all that she did for them behind the scenes. He saw the mistreatment and judging looks others would give her as her ‘husband’ was out fooling around.

Dick saw the blank look she had given Damian after her mother’s funeral. The one none of them had gone too.

“What do you mean you didn’t go?” His voice panicked as he talked to Tim, “I didn’t go. I was under the assumption someone else would go.”

Y/N could have been Gotham’s biggest bitch, but not even then would she have deserved that. What made it worse was that Y/N was not a bitch. She wasn’t cruel, or unkind. She was as much of a philanthropist as Bruce was. Always aiding those whose needed it and desperately trying to make Gotham a better place.

Dick opened her doors and was greeted with an empty room. Gone were the picture frames, and the closet was empty along with the bathroom. Her prized jewlery, the things she took care of almost obsessively, all of it was gone.

He could remember beng 9 and sitting next to her as she cleaned one of her sapphire earrings. Thin fingers with long nail held the earring next to him, a scrutinizing look on her face before she would break out into a grin, “As I thought, nothing could ever compare to our Dickie’s sapphire eyes.”

“Holy shit.”

“What’s going on- why is Y/N’s room empty?” Tim looked throughout the room, and Dick could see the wonder across his younger brother’s face. Right, between all of them, Tim and Y/N had the least amount of time spent together.

Dick stared at his brother as the image of Y/N smiling at a string of pearls entered his mind. She had explained to him when he asked that pearls, while feminine, also symbolized new beginnings. She had gotten it when Tim’s custody was signed over to the Waynes.

“She’s gone.” Tim met Dick’s eyes, “Like… taking a vacation gone?” Dick gave a humorless chuckle, “She divorced Bruce, Tim. Y/N is gone.” This must have been what Alfred saw when he broke the news to Dick. The confusion and then realization coming to light in those blue eyes.

“Bruce would never sign those papers.” Dick had said the same thing, and yet here she was. Gone. As if to emphasize his point, Dick made an exaggerated expression and motioned to the empty room.

Tim looked around and he could feel a headache forming, “Bruce is gonna be pissed.” Dick groaned, “Fuck Bruce for a second, the only stable-mentally healthy-adult figure that isn’t Alfred is gone, Tim.” The boy didn’t look all that bothered, “Well, if she’s happier then I don’t mind.”

Of course he doesn’t mind. Why? Because this little stalker most likely knows where she’s going. Tim did a good job hiding it, but Dick was raised by Bruce. He is trained to spot the mciroexpressions of people, and even if they are his own siblings.

Tim is panicking. The very thought of Y/N leaving had not once occurred to them, and for Tim who loves planning, this was not once ever in the plans.

Not once. Y/N had been a staple within the manor, and to imagine her not being here was rough. Evenw hen she left for business trips, it was fine because they all knew she was coming back. SHe would come back with souvenirs, handing each of them something that reminhded her of them, before running upstairs to get out of the family’s judgemental line of sight.

“Fucking hell.”

++++

Bruce entered the condo with ease. His steps light as he walked through the dark room, noting the all the furniture. There was no Y/N in the living room or kitchen, but when he looked out the balcony door, he could see her back. She was leaning against the edge of the infinity pool, without doubt a hot tub of some sorts because it was too cold to be swimming in a regular pool.

She didn’t even turn around to look at him, her attention focused on the view of the snowy mountains and raging seas in front of her. Bruce could see the wine bottle left on the side of the pool and the glass that looked like it was finished only a short while ago. When she did turn around, E/C reflected the stars and dimly lit light around the pool, making them shine and sparkle like they were the galaxy.

Bruce isn’t blind. He knows Y/N is an attractive woman who had many people lusting after her even when they were married. Talia even made a note of it, “You should see if she wants to join next time.” He should have known that his clipped response was a sign.

It was all there, and yet he did everything within his power to ensure that he would not fall in love with her. Falling in love has always been out of the question, and when Y/N came into his life, Bruce made it his mission to do just that. The woman before him had never complained, and she never seemed to fault him for it, but he could tell there was resentment. If he couldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love with her, he could have at least offered her friendship. One that made life more bearable for the both of them, and set a good example for the kids.

“What are you doing, Bruce?” She didn’t seem shocked that he was here, let alone in her vacation condo. Bruce took off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his boxers before joining her in the hot tub. He had grabbed two glasses of wine before doing so, handing her one and taking a sip from the other.

“Is it wrong of me to want to join my wife on her vacation?”

“Ex-wife. The documents are signed, and besides this is a girl trip.” Bruce re-read those documents and kicked his foot for not fucking reading them when he first signed them. He should have known she was up to something.

“Y/N, come back to the manor.” He stared into E/C eyes as she took another sip of the wine. Bruce had come with a speech prepared, ready to convince her to come back with him, but it was all lost as he stared and observed the woman in front of him drink delicately from the glass. Y/N L/N has always been a woman of class, even when she was near the bottom of high society. It wasn’t her good looks that landed her in the top 10, possibly even top 5%, and like every classy woman, she was only allowed to regret a few things. Their marriage is one, but leaving is not even an option on the list of things she wants to regret but can’t.

He knows this. She knows this.

And yet, Bruce could only focus on how beautiful she looks, and how beautiful she would look sprawled on the silk bed sheets. Y/N has aged like fine wine, looking even more beautifully and worth more and more with each passing year. Aging gracefully and beautifully as the years passed and still catching the attention of others.

It's a shame his younger self was more into whiskey than wine.

He wonders how different their relationship would be if he had gotten to know her before and during the early years of their marriage. Without a doubt it would be easier to talk to her. Easier to convince her to come back to a manor that now misses her.

“And why should I?” It’d be easier to answer her with a compelling reason, one that would have her actually debating on whether or not to come back. Bruce reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he’s shocked that she even let him do that. She didn’t flinch, nor did she lean into his touch. Y/N stood still as he moved the H/C lock behind her ears.

“The manor misses you.” He’s never heard her laugh the way she did in that moment. Throwing her head back and exposing unblemished skin to the night air as she laughed, and continued to laugh. Her shoulders shaking from the force and slightly distilling the wine.

Once she was done, her cheeks were red from the laughter and she was gasping for breath, “Yeah, okay. So Alfred misses me, I’ll make sure to give him a call then.” She turned her back to Bruce and began walking towards the edge of the pool.

“The boys, girls, and I do too.” Chateau Petra was on his lips and the feeling of cold wine hitting his face and upper chest had him closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Y/N’s wine glass was empty and on her face was a hard expression. Cold E/C eyes glaring into his as she pulled herself out of the pool, and grabbed the rest of the wine bottle.

“Sleep on the couch. You’re going home tomorrow.” Her steps quiet as she stalked into her home and she headed for the bathroom. Bruce sighed, and stared at the night sky with a new look in his eyes, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ He would like to believe that he is above this. He wants to believe that this was the worst case scenario happening and therefore this needs to happen.

Has to. The very thought of Y/N being away caused an itch to form under his skin and a burning fire in his chest. A fire he never knew blazed in him until it went out. Now, more aware and protective of it, Bruce found himself craving the warmth in ways that had his mouth foaming and muscles tensing. He looked down at the water and saw the red wine diluting and sprawling throughout the pool water, looking like blood for only a second.

A smile curled on his lips and he pulled himself out of the pool water, drying himself off before making his way into the shower with his ‘ex-wife.’ They may have never been lovers, but they were two adults living under the same roof.

So, of course they have had sex.

Hate sex is the best and worst sex. It is the best because Bruce can go as hard as he wants to and Y/N will love it. It is the worse because hate sex is all Y/N will see this as. Y/N will only see it has hate sex and not for the love Bruce feels for her. She won’t feel it in the way he caresses her skin or in the way he leaves his bite marks on her thighs. All Y/N will see this as, is hate sex.

Which is fine. If hate sex is what Y/N needs to see this as to work then Bruce will take it. He has time. He has plenty of time to show her how much he cares and loves her. Those divorce papers will be long gone, every single one of those copies non-existent. He loves her. He loves her in the way a cactus loves the sun, or how the stars love the moon.

Bruce was so enamored by her, that he couldn’t help but to fall deeper. Her soft hands, that have never broken a bone but have broken many hearts, cradling scarred shoulders and sharp cheeks. She didn’t flinch when his own rough hands gripped her’s, bruising and secure, and she didn’t flinch when intense blue eyes met hers. In fact, she smiled, like this was all a joke he was the butt of it.

It pissed him off that even she could have secrets and inside jokes that he doesn’t know about. As she laid there, her eyes now closed and body relaxed, Bruce pulled out a syringe filled with something that will keep her asleep. Only for a few days. Barbara is already working on getting rid of the divorce papers and the kids were preparing for her return.

Bruce kissed her forehead, smiling down at his Sleeping Beauty. If need be, the manor will be her castle and the kids her vines covered in thorns. Bruce, in all his daunting and terrifying glory shall be the dragon, keeping her locked within her castle because nowhere was safer than the castle. Only she could keep him calm, and only she could make him feel human.

Batman was never Prince Charming.

_________________________________________________________

Not my best work in my opinion... but I still like tbh.

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

#yandere batfam #yandere dc #platonic yandere #batfam x reader #platonic batfam #batfam #platonic batman #bruce wayne #batman x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #alfred pennyworth

779 notes · View notes

downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 17 days

Text

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 3

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2627 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazons' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'You are five miles from the estimated target, Master Dick,' Alfred said over the intercom of the Bat Wing.

Immediately upon entering Wayne Manor, Dick had rushed to his childhood room - the one he still used on the occasion he worked with Bruce as the Dynamic Duo, or he needed some space from his duties as Bludhaven's hero - and packed a small duffle of clothes and weapons and ran straight for the Bat Cave. As promised, Alfred had the Bat Wing waiting, ready for take off, and Dick barely greeted the old man before leaving Gotham far behind.

Dick had been flying for almost twelve hours and hadn't slept a wink. Sitting at the control panel with only a wide window of open sea to look at, Dick rubbed his tired eyes as the shadows of sleep flickered in the corners of his vision. He had to stay awake, just a little bit longer at least.

And then... Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

'Is there anything else you need from me, Master Dick?' Alfred asked.

Dick shook his head initially, then remembered Alfred couldn't see him. 'No, thank you, Alfred,' Dick replied, sitting up straighter in his seat. 'I should be fine from here on out.'

It was quiet for a moment, and Dick thought Alfred had signed off accidentally. But then he spoke. 'Are you sure there is something out here? I know you and your friends' findings seem well-supported, but there is only open ocean. There isn't even an under water volcano or ancient mountain range recorded there.'

'Which makes it an even more suspicious place,' Dick countered. 'Trust me Alfred, there is something out here.'

'Let's just hope Miss Y/N is too, or you'll have wasted Master Bruce's fuel. And I will tell you now, he will not be pleased about that.'

The mention of her name caused Dick's heart rate to increase with anxiety. But he quickly recovered as he scoffed. 'I don't know why he's complaining,' Dick said nonchalantly. 'He's the billionaire of the family, after all.'

'Have you seen the price of fuel these days?'

That caused Dick to chuckle slightly, just imagining the singular raised eyebrow Alfred used to ask the silent question of Are you serious? In that moment, he was once again grateful for Alfred. He barely asked any questions as to why Dick needed the Bat Wing, he just trusted Dick that it was for a good reason. Unlike Bruce, where trust needed to be hard earned, Alfred had always given his trust and love unconditionally.

The Bat Wing suddenly jerked as it seemed to hit something. Or, maybe, something hit it.

'Master Dick, what was that?" Alfred asked, worry lacing his words.

Suddenly alert, Dick brought up the different cameras hidden in the ship to try and find what had cause the sudden shift, but sound nothing.

'I'm not sure, Alfred,' Dick answered, running diagnostics over the ship in case of damage. 'There seems to be no damage to the Bat Wing, and there is nothing on the radar indicating another ship or flying creature of sorts.'

The ship rocked again, and Dick gripped tighter to the control handles as he took the ship off autopilot. 'What in the world!'

'Master Di-,' Alfred said, but his words were glitchy and some parts were coming through slowly. 'A-re yo- all rig-' Alfred was cut off before he could finish.

'Alfred? Alfred,' Dick called, but he got no reply. He slammed the control handles in frustration. 'Damnit.' He was on his own now.

However, his annoyance dissipated at the site he'd only ever seen in books he'd borrowed from Y/N when they were children.

To say Themyscira stood atop a mountain would be an inaccurate description. It was more like Themyscira was the mountain, with a long staircase weaving and winding up the entire mountain from the ivory beach and cerulean waters at the base of it. There were small stone huts with woven roofs closer to the beach, but quickly evolved into larger houses and buildings of impressive white columns and marble. As Dick flew closer to the island, he spotted a large coliseum used for sports and physical trials like the ruins in Greece, and a small amphitheatre next door that no doubt was used for the arts.

Atop Themyscira's mountain could only be the royal palace, held up by intricately carved statues of women and marble columns, decorated in plates of gold and held together by green grape vines that covered the palace walls, the statues, the columns.

The bed time stories he'd heard from Wonder Woman when he and Y/N would have sleepovers was more than his imagination could ever conceptualise, and the few descriptions and drawings of the island in the books he'd read were amateur attempts that held no candle to the real deal.

It was, in a word, paradise.

I must've hit the invisible barrier before, Dick deduced as he took in the sight of it all. That's why communications were knocked. That's why he'd felt so anxious and tired the closer he got. Now that he'd passed through, he felt ten times better.

A beeping pulled Dick out his trance, drawing his attention to the radar. Something was coming at him. Fast.

Dick looked up in time to see a large fire ball flying at him and barely dodged it. It was so hot Dick felt its heat through the window as it scraped by.

'Woah!' Dick cried, angling the Bat Wing so Dick could see where the fireball had come from. And, more importantly, who had thrown it. Down on the ivory beach was a line of catapults set up Dick hadn't spotted before, and he could just make out an army milling about around each catapult as they reloaded the catapults.

Before he knew it, he was swerving as another fireball flew at him, this time catching part of the left wing and melting it. Sirens blared, indicating the damage, but Dick didn't have time to worry about that. The Amazons thought he was a threat. He needed to change that, or he'd be a goner.

Crazy an idea as it was, Dick manoeuvred through the line of fireballs the Amazons catapulted at him towards the beach. Once he was close enough, he turned on the speaker so the outside world could hear him. 'Please, Amazons of Themyscira, I mean you no harm,' Dick announced to them, hoping he sounded genuine. 'I am going to land my aircraft on your shore. I just want to ta-'

He didn't have time as a small boulder connected with the left wing, sending the Bat Wing into a spin that Dick couldn't control. Sirens blared in the cockpit, reds light flashed and his front window lit up with the message SYSTEM FAILURE in bright red letters. The steering was shot, his vision was impaired, so Dick just closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The Bat Wing hit the beach hard, knocking the wind out of Dick for a moment. Once he'd regained his breath and the world had stopped spinning, Dick checked his immediate surroundings. He was in one piece still, and the Bat Wing hadn't exploded. Good start.

Before he could unplug himself, a spearhead stabbed through the glass of the front window, shattering it completely as the Amazon wielding it pulled it out. Dick was temporarily blinded by the sudden invasion of sunlight to his senses, but he still put his hands up in surrender in case they still thought him a threat.

'Please,' he begged through laboured breaths. 'Please, I don't mean you any harm. I just need to talk with someone you might know. Please.'

'Síko órthios, pareísaktes,' a strong voice hissed above him, her words whipping out like a delicate snake. She yanked him from his seat, breaking the seatbelt as she did, and threw him onto white, hot sand.

Vision coming back ever so slowly, Dick saw more figures approaching where he laid on the beach, spears and swords and shields in hand. All women, and all wearing brown leather skirts, sandals, and breast plates and bronze helmets of the ancient greeks. A small crowd formed around him, leaving no room for escape.

Realising this, Dick hauled himself to his feet and spun around to survey the group with his hands raised. The women ranged from youthful to mature, but all of them looked capable of killing him should he dare run. Capable, and willing.

'Poios eísai esý?' a woman with long brunette hair asked. She looked slightly older than him, perhaps mid to late 20s. But knowing how old Wonder Woman had lived for already, Dick was almost sure all of the women surrounding him were much older than they appeared.

I really regret not taking those Greek classes with Y/N now, he thought to himself, not having a clue what the woman had asked him. When he didn't reply though, she repeated her question but with more annoyance and aggression, pointing her spear towards his chest.

'I am Dick Grayson,' he said, not sure if they could understand him or not. 'I mean you no harm. Please, I must talk with someone you know... Do you understand me?'

The blank faces he received in return were answer enough. The brunette turned to two other women beside her, whispering to one another. It only lasted a moment, for then the brunette raised her spear higher towards Dick's throat. The rest of the women also raised their weapons, all pointed at him.

'Ánthropos apó to exoterikó,' she announced for all to hear, her delivery final and true, 'edó tha petháneis!'

Just as she raised her spear, Dick threw his hands up again and cried, 'Y/N!'

He waited for pain, for the sensation of falling and then nothing, but it never came. The brunette paused, spear still raised above her, and looked at him curiously.

'Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas?' she asked, and to Dick's surprise, he recognised one word. Prinkipissá. Princess.

'Yes,' he said, seizing potentially his only chance at surviving. 'She would be your princess. Sorry, your prinkipissá. Daughter of your champion, Diana.'

At the mention of the mighty Wonder Women, the brunette lowered her weapon entirely and turned to the other women as quiet murmurs broke out amongst the group. Dick wasn't sure what he'd started, but he knew they knew of who he spoke of, and what power her name held. Not just anybody could wield her name.

'I came here to speak with Prinkipissá Y/N,' Dick continued, and then he put his hands together as if he were about to pray. 'Please, can you lead me to her? Is she even here?'

The brunette and her two friends looked him up and down for a moment before consulting one another one last time. After what felt like an eternity, the brunette stepped forward and looked him dead in the eyes.

'Piáste ton!' she cried, and two women grabbed both his arms, ensuring he couldn't escape. 'Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas.'

She then turned away, and Dick was lead by the arms after her and the rest of the crowd. He managed look over his shoulder to see the wreckage of the Bat Wing. The left wing was one metal sheet away from tearing off completely, and the shattered glass and the many dents in the side of the ship just added to Dick's dismay. Oh yeah, Bruce is going to be pissed.

If the Amazons let him live and he ever got off the island, Bruce would definitely make sure Dick suffered long and hard.

Dick was lead up hundreds and hundreds of steps, walking through the bustling city of women and young girls all going about their daily lives. For some reason, it was off putting to Dick to see women and children doing the washing or playing games in the open street. He wasn't sure why, but he envisioned the whole island as warrior women who all fought and died for each other and their home.

They could probably still whoop my ass, he thought as he was marched by some children who were previously playing a game with some dice and a ceramic cup before he came along and stole their attention. It came to Dick's mind that these young girls probably had never seen a male before, and so he smiled at them as kindly as he could. Some of the children smiled back, others had their mothers nearby collect them and take them inside. Dick couldn't blame them for it. Wouldn't he do the same for his child if the roles were reversed.

Why the hell am I thinking about children right now? he asked himself, but he didn't have time to ponder the question as they quickly walked up a final set of stairs into an open field of green covered in warrior women training. When the whole group stopped, Dick was brought to such a startling halt that he thought his arms were going to pop out of their sockets. Thank God for that, he thought, feeling his legs ache with all the climbing. Or is it Zeus I should thank? Maybe Hera? Athena?

The brunette raised her spear, and those not holding Dick prisoner did the same. 'Prinkipissá,' she called out above the din of all the sparring and training. 'Échoume kápoion gia esás.'

Dick wasn't sure who the brunette was talking to at first, but then his gaze settled on a group of women just ahead of them. It seemed it was a six-versus-one situation, as six women surrounded one young woman with familiar H/C hair. The six women ran at the young woman in the middle, all taking swings with their fists and swords, aiming for her head and legs and mid section. While the young woman took a few punches, she didn't flinch with pain. She would just grab her attacker's wrist and flip her over and slam her into the ground.

The fight only lasted a minute, and ended with the H/C haired pointing a sword at her final opponent's throat as she pressed her to the ground with her foot.

When she flipped her hair as she turned to face their group, only then did Dick fully realise who it was.

'Y/N!' he cried out, the brightest smile spreading across his face. Two years since he'd last seen her, his best friend. After the not-so-very-warm welcome, he was beyond relieved to see a familiar face.

But instead of reciprocating his smile with the one he'd always admired since they were children, Y/N paled as if she had seen a ghost. Her whole body seemed to freeze up as her eyes connected with Dick's, and for a moment Dick feared he had mistaken some poor girl for his best friend.

But her shock melted away, and Dick was met with angry eyes and a stony face. Oh, yeah. That's Y/N. He couldn't recall the amount of times he'd seen that expression before, but there was no mistaking it.

His fear turned towards himself as she suddenly, with sword still in hand, stormed towards him, ignoring the other women around her still training.

'Y/N, it's me Dick,' he said, just in case she hadn't recognised him, but still she came at him, raising the sword to her side. 'Wait, what are you doing?

As she stood a step from him, she changed her grip on the sword's hilt and swung the butt of it at his head.

'Hey! Don't-'

The last thing he saw were Y/N's angry eyes of E/C before pain exploded from his right temple and darkness overcame him.

~~~

Síko órthios, pareísaktes = On your feet, outsider

Poios eísai esý? = Who are you?

Ánthropos apó to exoterikó, edó tha petháneis! = Man from the outside, you will die here!

Pós gnorízeis tin prinkípissá mas? = How do you know our princess?

Piáste ton! = Grab him!

Tha ton páme stin prinkípissá mas = We shall take him to our princess

Échoume kápoion gia esás = We have someone for you

---------------

Tag List:

199 notes · View notes

starstruckunknown-princess · 26 days

Text

Snapdragon - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Snapdragon (Antirrhinum) - Meaning: Presumption, deception

Summary: Reader thinks her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, is cheating on her. Bruce tries to figure out how to tell her about his nighttime activities.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1864

Warnings: Suspected infidelity, angst, discussion of insecurities, a little bit of gaslighting/misdirection from Bruce, Alfred is a sassy bitch, Bruce is a mopey bastard, cliffhanger ending

Day 12 takes a sharp turn back into angst! I wrote this with the Christian Bale Batman and Michael Caine Alfred in mind, but use any Batman/Alfred you fancy. Also, sorry for the cliffhanger.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! ❤️

Bruce was cheating on you, you knew it. He hadn’t spent the night at your place in weeks, was texting you back at odd hours at night, and whenever you did manage to pin him down for a date he seemed disengaged, preoccupied, like he would rather be elsewhere.

Dating Gotham’s Prince was difficult enough as it was, press following you everywhere and your face showing up in supermarket tabloids — you were just a regular person, you didn’t come from money or rub elbows with Gotham’s social elite, you had a regular boring desk job to pay the bills.

You met Bruce by accident one day when you were on your way into work. You weren’t paying attention and almost walked into oncoming traffic, but Bruce had caught your arm just as you stepped off the curb, spilling your coffee. You’d turned, ready to give him such a tongue-lashing, but a motorcyclist zipped by at an ungodly speed right where you’d been about to step. Bruce then offered to replace your coffee and escort you to the office (“For your own safety,” he’d insisted with a devilish smirk that you couldn’t say no to).

You’d been dating ever since, almost a year now, which surprised most of the press. Numerous gossip sites were speculating about how you’d managed to keep Bruce’s interest for that long, but you’d learned to tune all their shit out.

The insecurity you felt now stemmed from Bruce’s own behavior, not the latest expulsion of bile from the gossipmongers online. You’d texted Bruce to meet you at your place after work, only receiving a thumbs-up emoji back.

You weren’t worth a real response. You weren’t worth his honesty. You weren’t worth him.

Shaking that insidious voice out of your head, you decided you needed a drink. In the middle of pouring yourself a glass of wine (box wine, another reminder of the insurmountable differences between you and Bruce) a knock sounded at the door.

Looking through the peep hole, you saw a large bouquet of flowers held in front of a tired-looking Bruce. You opened the door and let him in, accepting the flowers and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Bruce said, lingering near your cheek and stepping closer, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You tensed in his grasp, and he immediately let go, lifting your chin with a finger so you had to look him in the eye.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

Looking into his baby blues was a little too much to handle, so you simply nodded and moved away from him.

“Yeah, just gonna get these in water,” you said, lifting the bouquet slightly. Fishing the one vase you owned out of the cupboard, you filled it at the sink. Bruce followed your movements, hands in his pants pockets while he watched.

“I’ve only got a few minutes, unfortunately, but I was hoping you were free this Friday for a proper date,” he offered, smiling in his charming way. You only hummed your response, focusing on rearranging the flowers so they looked nice in the vase.

You had a speech prepared, known exactly what you wanted to say to him to get him to confess that he was cheating. Now that he was here, however, your well-formulated hypothesis was harder and harder to grasp. Like smoke, it dissipated the more you tried to catch it.

“You sure everything’s okay? You seem tense,” Bruce observed. That was your cue, and you knew you had to take it before he got any closer. Once he had his hands on you, every rational thought would flee and you’d be at his mercy.

“Are you cheating on me?” you asked, fighting to keep your composure. You’d never been good at confrontation, so you figured the best way to handle this was firm, direct, like ripping off a band-aid. You tried to put on a confident air even though your insides were practically liquifying with nerves.

Bruce sighed, “We talked about this, you can’t believe anything you read on those sites. They’re just in it for the clicks-”

“I’m not-! I didn’t get it off the internet, it’s just…you’ve been distant lately, and I can’t think of any explanation other than you found someone more…in your league,” you explained, wrapping your arms around you in an effort to comfort yourself. The insecurities you felt earlier were slipping into your words, despite your best efforts to shove them aside.

Bruce softened, took a step toward where you were standing in your kitchen. When you didn’t flinch away, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “Babe, you are in my league. Hell, you’re way above my league, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“I don’t either,” you said, “but this isn’t coming from an external source, it’s what I’ve noticed when it’s just the two of us. You seem distracted, like you don’t want to be in the moment with me. And it’s a rare occurrence that you text me back before midnight, if at all.”

Bruce’s hands stroked down your arms, warming your skin. He leaned down into your eye line. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know you were feeling that way, I’ll be better about being present with you, I promise. There’s just been a lot going on at work and it’s been…busy, I’ve been busy, you know?”

You nodded, “I know.”

“But,” he said, unhooking your hands from where they’d been holding your elbows, “Now that I know, we can fix it. I’m gonna do better. Thank you for telling me.”

You let him unfold your arms and bring them up around his shoulders, resting them there and bringing his hands to your lower back. He kept his grasp loose until, against your better judgment, you tightened your arms and pulled him into a hug. He returned your embrace, planting a gentle kiss to your forehead.

When he held you like this it was easy, too easy, to forget your stupid insecurities and let yourself trust him. In his embrace, every imperfection you nitpicked about yourself ceased to exist. He was a safe space — well, until recently.

Bruce said your name quietly to get your attention. You looked up at him.

“I love you,” he said, the look on his face betraying the heartbreaking truth of his statement.

You pushed up on your toes and kissed his lips quickly — any slower and you’d completely melt into him.

“I love you too, Bruce.”

________

Later that night…

Bruce was well and truly fucked. He’d known it was only a matter of time before you noticed his odd behavior, the late hours, the preoccupation and distractibility. Fuck!

He and Alfred had rules, dammit, and he should’ve followed them.

No more than five dates or two months, whichever comes first.

They’re never allowed to roam the house unsupervised.

Most importantly, keep feelings out of it. Sex and companionship, nothing more and nothing less.

But it was different with you. You’d…surprised him, which he didn’t think was possible anymore. You were funny and gorgeous — not his usual type, but still enchanting — and a little spiky, which only intrigued him more. For the first time, Bruce wanted to get to know someone on a deeper level. Maybe it was age, or he was finally ready to admit he wasn’t an island, or maybe he was just sick of the endless line of vapid, waifish model-types he usually dated, but whatever the reason you came into his life at exactly the right time and you were…perfect.

What was the old saying, nothing good can stay? The truth of that statement weighed on him as he pulled off the suit, tossing the pieces haphazardly all over the cave, leaving a trail to where he eventually settled in his computer chair.

“Y’know, sir, while kevlar is good at stopping bullets it does rather badly when left unattended on a damp cave floor,” Alfred scolded gently, bending to pick up the pieces of Batman. Bruce only grunted at his butler, pulling up the dossier he’d been preparing on the Joker. The last few weeks it looked like the psychopath had reemerged, which is why he’d been so preoccupied. Gotham barely survived the last scrape with that psychopath, so Batman had been doggedly hunting him after the sun went down.

“Did you stop by her place, then?” Alfred asked, referring to you. “She seemed rather insistent on it.”

Bruce paused, then sighed and turned to face Alfred. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.”

“Not exactly an incorrect assumption,” Alfred joked. Bruce flashed him a glare, but the butler didn’t notice. “Well, we knew this was coming didn’t we? Once you started breaking the rules for her, it was only a matter of time.”

Bruce internally groaned, not wanting to admit Alfred was right. “I just wish I knew what to do. She’s the first person in a long time that I’ve actually wanted to have around. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “You’ve arrived at a crossroads, if you don’t mind me saying. You either tell her, or you don’t.”

“How do I know if I should tell her?”

“That answer lies in how much you trust her to keep your secret.”

“And how do I know that I won’t lose her even if I tell her?” Bruce asked, voicing his biggest fear. Painting a target on your back as well as his, and then being shoved out of your life.

Alfred laid a comforting hand on Bruce’s shoulder, like he always did when sharing a hard life lesson. “You don’t, Master Wayne.”

The hand left his shoulder and Bruce turned back around, each man now going about their usual business. A few quick incident reports later Bruce made his way upstairs to his bedroom, hoping with how tired his body was that sleep would claim him quickly.

No such luck.

Instead, he tossed and turned, going over every possible outcome of the inevitable conversation.

Option 1: He tells you about Batman, you accept it, and the two of you make it work. This, of course, was the ideal scenario so he knew that wouldn’t be the outcome. Nothing in his life worked out ideally.

Option 2: He tells you about Batman, you freak out and break up with him, and you become a huge liability. Giving you that knowledge would be like handing you a grenade with the pin pulled out — if you held onto it, you were both safe, but if you let go…Kaboom. And how long could you hold onto a secret that big, that dangerous?

The last option was that he doesn’t tell you, you continue to assume he’s cheating on you, and you break up with him eventually. He loses you, but you remain unaware and therefore safe — from his enemies, from prosecution, from whatever else came from being Batman's girlfriend.

Around three in the morning Bruce’s mind was made up, his next steps planned, and resolve steely, but he waited until half-past five (a more normal wake-up time) to text you.

‘Dinner at my place tonight. We need to talk.’

#writing challenge #fanfiction #in bloom #angst angst baby #angst #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fic #batman x reader #batman x you #alfred pennyworth #batman fic #batman fanfic

192 notes · View notes

allysunny · 4 months

Note

Can you do little stories and scenarios of Bruce and a female reader. Her and Bruce have been together since birth, living in the Wayne manor (both of them had their parents unalived at the opera… yk how that goes). She’s this girl who’s constantly annoyed with Bruce 🙄 and Bruce is head over heels for her and would literally do anything and die for her in a heartbeat. She would too, it would just take a little more effort for her to be okay with dying for him🙄. (This is going to get very specific, hold on) They’ve been hooking up for years and Bruce always wants something more but the reader is always like 🙄🥱 “no Bruce”. Anyway, PLEASE WORK YOUR MAGIC🙏🙏 SO SPECIFIC I KNOW LMFAOOOO BUT PLEASE I HOPE YOU SEE THE VISION I HAVE ❤️🖤🙏🙌✨♾️💍🥹🌳🌴🎉

Secretive Stares | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.7k words

Warnings: Suggestive themes, implied friends with benefits, Bruce Wayne is one whipped guy, mentions of period and period pains, sort of angst? If you squint, really. If I let something out, please let me know!

A/N: Hey everyone! Happy New Year, first and foremost! I hope your holidays have been pleasant and you guys have had an amazing time!!

So, I just wanted to start by saying that I did not see the vision. I'm so, so, sorry. This was a very fun request, but I clearly did not see your vision, or I'd have written more, and something better. These type of relationships are not really my cup of tea, but I tried my best to step out of my comfort zone and give you what you deserved! I apologize if it did not live up to your expectations. I really did try my best and I hope you appreciate it!

Second of all, I'd just like to remind everyone that my requests are now open! I write for Bale!Bruce (duh), Nanami Kento and Miguel O'Hara. Hopefully in the future I'll be able to write other characters.

That's it! Again, thank you so much for the request, and I really hope you enjoy it!

You grew up with Bruce Wayne, which meant your childhood was anything but normal.

Mostly because not all kids grew up with the title of Gotham’s Prince and Princess. Most kids are normal, spending their time in classes, running around, completely carefree.

But not you two. You couldn’t afford to be careless and carefree. Having your parents shot that night at the opera made you two grow up quite quickly and become little adults rather than children. Alfred loved you both and your personalities of course, and he encouraged you to seek out the childhood he thought you deserved. In between classes and lessons from private tutors, he would try to get you to play outside, to create your own worlds and have fun. All he wanted was for the children he would raise as his own to be happy and unburdened.

And to be fair, he did achieve that, somehow.

You two grew up to be as thick as thieves, two birds of a feather. Wherever you were, Bruce was quick to follow, feeling more comfortable in your company. Alfred would try to convince him to spend some time on his own and make his own friends, but to no avail. He could see Bruce had a little schoolboy crush on you, and it always made him chuckle.

You didn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings (but to be fair, you were quite young to know what those were), but always treated him like a close friend.

While you two attended Princeton, everyone was far too scared to treat Bruce like a real person. They’d treat you normally – after all, you integrated so well in the student life, making friends and picking up hobbies and clubs like it was no big deal. Even if it was something quiet and calm like the journalism club, you were always surrounded by people (who may or may not be as quiet as you).

Bruce, however, was alone most of the time. He tried making friends, truly, but it was hard. He couldn’t find someone he trusted as much as you, so he found himself having lunch by himself or studying alone at his dorm. People would treat him like he was made of glass, too nervous to call out any mistakes he might’ve made or even ask for help. But not you – you saw right through him and never felt the need to coddle him like everyone else.

“Can you please just focus?” You mumbled, pointing to the notebook in front of you. You had been trying to explain your Literature assignment to him, but he not only did not feel like it, but was also too distracted by you. Had you always looked this pretty? Clearly, but you seemed to radiate with something Bruce couldn’t quite pinpoint. Perhaps it was the frustration of not being able to teach him that made your eyes sparkle a bit more.

“Bruce, I swear to Gotham that if you do not listen to me, I’ll –“

“How about we stop for today, huh?” he asked, taking the pencil you were holding from your hands and putting it aside. “I think we’ve studied hard enough. We deserve some rest.”

“Yeah, I have been studying hard. You’ve been distracted the whole time and haven’t even thought about the topic for your essay. Seriously Bruce, how you’re a top student, I’ll never know.” You huffed. “The answer to your question is no, by the way.” You leaned over to get the pencil from him and shook your head. Now, where were we?"

Bruce just groaned and silently went back to work. He got an A+ on that assignment.

He’s always tried to be your knight in shining armour, no matter how many times you’ve told him you can handle yourself just fine. Any minor inconvenience will set his “Batman mode” off, and he’ll just feel the need to help you. There’s a spider in the kitchen? Worry not, Bruce Wayne is taking care of it (even though you had just rushed into his office to grab a sheet of paper so you could safely place it outside). Your car’s oil needs changing? Don’t panic, Bruce is doing the changing himself (even though you already had an appointment with the mechanic and knew what the problem was). The door to the guest room you usually stay in is locked? No big deal, because Bruce is going to do his best to jam it open (even if you were already doing it with a pair of bobby pins).

It annoys you to hell and back whenever Bruce tries to do things for you. You like his gestures, sure, when they don’t implicate you’re either a baby or unable to complete the simplest of tasks.

But Bruce would do anything for you. Literally everyone in Gotham knows that. He will drive to your apartment at 3am to deliver a tin of cookies and some sodas in case you were feeling down, would take you all the way to Paris in one afternoon just because you mentioned how pretty the Eiffel Tower must be as the sun sets, bought an entire chain of restaurants simply because the one you wanted to go to was full. He was completely whipped. If you asked him to take a bullet for you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He would lay his life before you if it meant you would be happy.

You reciprocated. Sometimes, and not as easily as him. But still, it was something. Your comments were rather ambiguous. Sometimes you’d tell him straight up, others you’d weave the little mind games that he so much loved to play into.

One time, you were lying on your bed, internally dying as your period got the best of you. You were curled up with a bunch of blankets, waiting for your painkillers to have its intended effect, when you heard the door of your apartment being open. Bruce and Alfred were the only ones with a spare key, and you doubted the butler would want anything from you right now.

There was a gentle knock on your door. Not any kind of knock, his knock. Your secret knock from when the two of you were children had stood the test of time, and he still used it after all these years.

You were far too exhausted to see him. Your whole body was screaming out in pain, and you didn’t really feel like talking to your childhood best friend. No, all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out while your uterus did whatever the hell it did.

“Go away!” you yelled, rolling on your bed, and pressing your hands against your stomach, in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“Is everything okay in there?” Bruce sounded concerned, and part of you felt bad for wanting him to go away – after all, he came all the way over to your place just to check on you. Pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, you groaned out, “Just leave! I’ll be fine, just go away!”

Ignoring your command, Bruce slowly opened the door to your bedroom, head peeking inside.

“I told you to go away!” You yelled, throwing a pillow in his direction, and failing miserably.

“Yes, and I decided to ignore you. I brought you something.” He walked inside, taking the time to pick the pillow up and place it next to you, before handing you the plastic bag he was holding.

Reluctantly, you peered inside, and your eyes widened.

Your favourite snacks. All of them, inside this small plastic bag. Bruce knew you better than you knew yourself and had gotten you everything you loved to munch on when you were feeling down, as well as a few of your favourite beverages.

“How – how did you?” you stuttered.

“Lucky guess. I thought either heartbreak or period, and there was a high chance it was either of them, so I stopped by the supermarket. Was I correct?”

You were already halfway through your favourite chocolate bar, nodding at him. “The latter.”

Bruce grimaced and sat at the end of your bed, looking at you.

You tried not to look at him, into those pretty brown eyes of his.

“You’re whipped, Bruce Wayne. This is something only a creep would do. I don’t show up and you come over with sweets?” you chuckle, before finally meeting his gaze. After a while you looked at the bag in front of you. It had been a very sweet gesture. And no matter how “whipped” he might seem, he’d pretty much just saved you from a day of moping around in endless pain and discomfort. “Thanks,” you said quietly. “I really appreciate these.”

Bruce only nodded and stood up.

“Where are you going?” you asked, finishing your chocolate bar.

“I don’t want to prolong my stay more than what’s necessary. Don’t want to annoy you too bad today.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged, looking at your sheets.

“If you want to, you can stay.”

“Really?”

You shrugged again.

“Eating all of this will probably make me super sick. I need someone to clean up my vomit.”

He chuckled, nodded, and sat back down.

In reality, you just wanted his company.

Whenever you’re lazing around in the Manor, you often find yourself putting on some of Bruce’s clothes. His hoodies, which are way comfier than yours and reach your knees, his dress shirts when it’s warmer outside, even his favourite slippers. You reason with him that “everything that’s his is ten times more comfortable”. At first, he tried to fight you and banter back tenfold, but after a while, he just gave up. You did look great in his clothes. Bruce found himself catching glimpses of your bare legs or your thighs peeking out of his shirts, and wished you’d walk around like this more often.

In fact, he wished you’d stay forever. After all, whatever is his, was yours. He’d told you that plenty of times before. You, however, had brushed him off plenty of times, but clearly not enough to deter him.

You’d been hooking up for years now.

It had started out one cozy November night. You’d been watching a movie on his huge TV screen, sitting side by side, keeping a respectful distance from each other. Suddenly, it got far too cold for that, so you fetched a blanket and laid it on top of the two of you. And next thing you knew, you were on top of his bed, hands tangled up in his dark locks of hair as he pressed kisses down your body.

The next morning, Bruce had held you close to his chest, relishing on how perfectly your body slotted against his. His hands were tracing patterns on the skin of your arms. His mind was going a thousand miles. Finally, he had you. Finally, you were his. He couldn’t resist placing kisses on your shoulder, and you stirred awake.

“Good morning,” he mumbled against your skin.

It took a while for you to respond. You yawned a few times, before looking around his bedroom. Your gaze settled on him, and your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Last night’s events came to you. Oh. Right.

“Morning,” you replied, yawning right after. Slowly, you untangled yourself from his grip, and sat up, looking around for your clothes, or at least something you could cover yourself with. You found his shirt on the floor, and quickly leaned over to get it and put it on.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked, using his arm to prop his head up.

“Fine. You?” you replied, brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

“I couldn’t be better.”

You offered him a small smile and stood up, looking for your clothes, or a pair of pants.

“What’s the hurry?” he asked once again, brows furrowing. Were you leaving?

“I’m getting something to eat. I’m starving, Bruce.” Chuckling, you found your pants and put them on as well. Bruce sat up on his bed and his eyes roamed over your figure, now hidden by clothes. He’d liked the view much better when you were bare before him.

“Aren’t we going to talk?”

You stopped, turning to him.

“Talk?”

“Yeah. About last night. About us.”

You let out a small chuckle.

When you looked at him, you found Bruce looking at you with a serious expression.

Oh.

“Wait. You’re – you’re serious about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like I’ve ever hid how I felt about you. But you’ve never told me how you felt.”

You stood there, staring at him. You didn’t know what to say. And what could you? Bruce was a good friend. Your closest friend, ever since the two of you were children. And there was no denying it, he was extremely good-looking, and last night you’d been attracted to him. Who wouldn’t? But you didn’t like him. At least not like that.

It was Bruce. He was your friend. The guy you tutored back in your Princeton days, who couldn’t concentrate on his homework for more than five minutes and somehow got stellar grades. Who pretended to be an eccentric billionaire for the sake of Gotham (or so he said).

“I’m sorry Bruce, I – I don’t feel that way about you.” The words came out, firm and strong. You had no doubts on your mind about how you felt. “I’m sorry if last night led you to believe otherwise.”

He stared at you, and it was like he could feel the pieces of his heart breaking bit by bit.

“But hey – we’re still friends. Right? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Nothing needs to change.” You offered him a smile and he tried to give you one back, but it didn’t really reach his eyes.

“Sure. Nothing needs to change.”

You two thought that’d be the end of it, but it wasn’t.

For years, you slept together, tearing each other’s clothes at night, and awkwardly scrambling for them the next morning. You saw it as mere lust and physical attraction. You two were good friends who occasionally slept together. It was good. It felt good. But that was it.

Bruce, on the other hand, saw things differently. He thought it meant he had a chance. He thought that every time you decided to sleep with him, it meant you were one step closer to falling for him, to admitting how you felt.

Every morning he woke up with you in his arms, he’d try his luck. Brushing his fingers on your skin, ghosting his lips over the love marks and bites he’d left the night prior, he’d whisper to you.

“Would it be so bad for us to be together?” He’d sense you tensing under him, and then you were sighing and breaking free from his hold. He’d chastise himself mentally for scaring you away again, and that’s when you replied. You always gave him the same reply, looking him dead in the eye. “No, Bruce.”

And Bruce would lie back down as you hurried to get dressed and grab something to eat. His mind told him it was a terrible idea to keep sleeping with you, to allow you to toy with him like this when you had no feelings for him at all.

And although Bruce Wayne was always a very logical man, when it came to you, he was irrational, and always listened to his heart.

And his heart told him that someday, somehow, someway, you’d see the light. Someday, you’d finally understand how much emotion and love his kisses and caresses conveyed. Someday, you would listen to the unspoken words that hung in the air whenever he dropped to capture your lips with his own.

And even if you didn’t, he convinced himself that he was okay with it all, if only it meant he got to wake up next to you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys liked it! It's not my best work I would say, but I gave it my all, as always! I hope you all have a wonderful day ahead!

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfic #the dark knight fanfiction #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

210 notes · View notes

kazuko-stuff · 2 months

Text

Once Upon a Dream

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary : As you and Bruce gets ready for a charity gala , you two danced to a familiar tune in your childhood.

A/N: just got inspired by listening to Once Upon a Dream so I decided to write this

“I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar gleam”, As you were singing the song, getting lost in the tune, you didn’t notice Bruce coming behind you and only noticed as he sang the part where Prince comes in. “Singing the song again” he smirks at you while you give a shy smile as you blushed as he gives you a tiny kiss on your neck.

“I couldn’t help it, the song is nostalgic and feels magical every time I hear it” you answered as you remembered a fond memory with him when you two were young.

———————

Your parents were good family friends with his parents, that’s how you met. They even hoped you two would end up together.

You were dancing in the garden of the Wayne manor while you were looking at the flowers while singing “Once Upon a Dream”. While you were dancing in the garden while singing, you didn’t notice the young boy was watching within the distance. Just when you finished the solo part of the princess, he joined in, “ The way you…” when you finally noticed the boy, you blushed and created some distance due to shyness.

“ I am sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just I heard your voice. Your singing is quite lovely” he complimented as he held one of your hands while he scratched his head nervously. “I am..” he started to introduce himself but you stopped him, “ You’re Bruce Wayne” as you finished what he was about to say. “ Our parents know each other,” you answered. “ I am y/n Auclair” you introduce yourself as you hold his hand while looking at each other intensely.

“I guess we met before” as he broke the sudden silence.

“We have” you stuttered

“Didn’t you say we met in a dream” as you finally understood the reference he was making. It’s when the prince met the princess in the forest and started to dance together while singing the song before finally falling in love.

Only then you two started dancing together while singing the song together as Alfred watched afar as he took a picture of you two dancing together in the garden like a fairytale ending.

___________

You smiled at that fond memory. That was why “Once Upon a Dream” was your favorite. Not only because your mother sang that song as a lullaby if you had trouble singing or when you were waltzing with your father, but because that is how you met Bruce when you were children. A boy just wandering in the garden and a girl just singing freely with the birds.

“Dance with me” Bruce asks as he takes your hand into his. “ Of course” as you two get into a waltz position. Just the two of you alone in your own world, you danced together to the song you were singing earlier.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream” sang Bruce as you two danced together. “The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam” as he sang the Prince’s line causing you to smile at him singing. While he rarely sings, you know of his secret talent of singing and enjoy listening to him sing especially if it’s just the two of you like this intimate moment.

As the song comes to an end, you two finished dancing together. You look each other in the eyes. You look at the steel blue eyes as they stare at yours with adoration and gratefulness. He didn’t hesitate to meld his lips with yours. You return the kiss as you raveled your arms around his neck as you felt him put his all into the kiss you shared. The two break the kiss the same way he entered it. Bruce grins at the dreamy sigh that escapes your lips, causing you to be flustered due to being delirious.

Alfred suddenly came in just in time in the room. “ Master Bruce, Miss Y/N, although I am glad I came at perfect timing, I must remind you two would be late to the gala.” As Alfred left to do other business. The two of look at each sharing a smile, as you to finished getting ready for the gala

———————

As you go to the gala, you will greet other sponsors and the elite with Bruce. Ever since people got wind of you two dating, they called you two the Prince and Princess of Gotham. Little children of the wealthy families couldn’t help but greet you and greet them with warmth, as they see you like a fairy tale princess in the dress you are in.

After that, you went backstage to get ready to sing your song. Bruce comes in to help you get ready to perform your song and cheer you on. “I have a little surprise for you after your performance” Bruce whispers into your ear after you two share a kiss. “What kind of surprised ?” You asked in a teasing smile, as you wondered. “I rather have you wait” as Bruce gives you another kiss before he leaves to join the crowd.

You went onto the stage to sing the song you chose for the charity event. As you sing your song, the moon shines on you as if the night sky clears up just to hear your voice. As Bruce sees this, he smiles as he hears your ethereal voice singing the lullaby-like song, calming the mind when people hear you sing.

As you finish your song, people applaud your performance as you curtsy. As you gracefully come off the stage, several kids come up to you, praising you for your singing skills and staring you in awe. You thanked them all as you hugged kids that came up to you. As Bruce came up to you, smiling as he was happy seeing his girlfriend smiling with the kids.

You joined Bruce as he held his hand for you to hold and guided you to the dance floor. All of the sudden the orchestra plays “Once Upon a Dream” and you two waltz to the music. “This is the surprise that I prepared for you” he said as you two danced on the dance floor like Prince and princess in fairy tales. All eyes were on both of you whenever you danced together. “They’re looking at you” you mentioned shyly to him. “ Oh believe me they’re all looking at you” Bruce said as the two continued to waltzed together as if you two were in your own world again.

90 notes · View notes

thewritermj · 6 months

Text

cameras flashes, that's how we crashed

battinson!bruce wayne X reader

part 1

summary: on a press conference, bruce finds a journalist who's up to his standards

warnings: usual gotham violence, quick discrimination of a serial killer, not actually smut in this, but in the future so NSFW MDNI

a/n: forgive any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language!!! Bruce lives in the manor instead of the Wayne Towers cuz I like the manor vibe more, also I kinda picture Jim Gordon from the Gotham Tv show, cuz I love that version but it doesn't really matters lol. (nothing said above is useful for this reading but I just thought you should know) also, this takes place one year after the movie

Bruce sat quietly on the car, the ride was awfully short. He wished he had more time to mentally prepare to his first press conference. He was a recluse for most part of his life, but after the scandal about The Gotham Renewal Program, people deserved to know the truth. And the idea of continuing his family legacy of charity and philanthropy wasn’t all bad and kept Alfred out of his nerves for a while.

And even tough Bruce Wayne could crack a fake smile to the cameras, throw charity galas and events, the true help came at night. The only possible salivation Gotham could have, the real way he could help the city was as Vengeance. The Batman. He didn’t think of himself as a hero, or a vigilante, more of a necessary evil; all the violence and anger, the rage and the darkness of his work, his project; people would be outraged if they found out they were the same man.

“We’re here, Mr. Wayne” The driver announced.

Alfred, who as sitting across from Bruce on the limo closed the papers he was reading and smiles softly.

“Ready, master Bruce?”

Bruce sighs.

“Not really”

The car parked inside the underground garage of the Wayne Enterprises, Bruce and Alfred made their way to the elevator, not a word was said.

Bruce stole a glance at his reflection on the mirror. A black suit Alfred picked for him, a W embroidery on its lapel, his hair was short now, shorter than he liked, all slicked back by hair gel, but nothing could hide the dark circles under his eyes or the lack of sun colour on his skin. Sometimes, just sometimes, Bruce wishes he didn’t have to wear normal clothes, to comb his hair, ties his bottoms; he wishes he could live inside the Batsuit. He felt like the suit was his own skin, her armour, him and Batman were on, there was no Bruce Wayne without Vengeance, they were bonded forever and could never be separated from each other. He wish they could, he wish he could be Batman alone; no press conferences, no reports, paparazzi, no “Bruce Wayne crowned prince of Gotham.”

The elevator stops and the door open. Alfred goes our first and greet some people outside, telling them where to go.

“You have 10 minutes, Bruce.” He warns, “I’ll get them stared and you wait here till I call you”

Bruce nods.

He sits down on a leather couch and waits, starring at the glass doors. All the reports and journalists waiting for him, men and women, from Gotham and other places of the world.

He’s nervous. Not nervous like he is before a fight, nervous he will be put on a corner, that he’ll be catch on a lie, nervous someone knows. It’s like someone in the next room it’s just waiting for him to appears, to stand up from their chair and ask ‘Are you the Batman?’

“Ladies and gentleman, Bruce Wayne” Alfred announces from the stage and glances at him.

Bruce works on his better smile he can put on and enters the stage; he’s received with thunderous applauses and blinding cameras flashes. He waves and sit on a chair, in a wooden desk in front of him is a glass of water and a microphone.

“Let’s get, started then” Alfred said, pointing to a woman in a grey dress standing with a microphone in her hand.

“Mr. Wayne, why did you decided to throw a press conference after years of reclusiveness?”

Bruce leans into her direction a bit.

“Well, I think all the events of the past year made me realize how much the Wayne Foundation means to Gotham and I’ve been a little reckless with that matter”

It was a good answer, he thought.

The following questions were easy too, “Mr. Wayne, how do you plan on taking care of the raised money? To prevent anything to happen again”, “What’s the difference between the Wayne Foundation and the Gotham Renewal Program?”, “What projects do you have in mind?”, and of course, some shallow questions, “What brand is your suit?”, “What car do you drive?”, question he almost laughed at. Did people actually wanted to know that?

Bruce was thinking how the conference was going well, easy, almost, not as he had pictured it before. Until…

“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”

He flinched for half a second, he opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Another woman asked something he didn’t quite hear with all that was going on inside his head, but the word Batman was also there. And then another, and another…

“Mr. Wayne, what do you think about The Batman?”

The room turned into a complete circus. Grown adults talking over each other, fighting for a turn on the microphone.

You rolled your eyes. This happens every time, someone thinks about the name Batman and suddenly everyone has something to say. What does it matter Bruce Wayne’s thought of the Batman? There were so much important questions to be asked, so much more to discover about that man’s life and projects than a simple opinion.

You were begging to regret the moment you accepted the offer to come to this conference. You weren’t a regular journalist, you didn’t know how to write an article about the weather, fashion trends, social events, you wrote about thing most journalist didn’t want to, thing that most people were scare to read. People scared of the truth. You weren’t. You would dig and dig until the raw verity came to surface, it didn’t matter where or who you had to dig.

The man who had introduced Mr. Wayne appeared again and announced the press conference. No fucking way, no without the answers you wanted, you didn’t take this job to watch other people ruin it.

Slowly, you got up from your sit and walked towards the person who as holding the microphone and gently pull it away from his hands.

“Mr. Wayne…” but the voices around you were too loud.

You gave the head of the mic a flick, the loud keen sound made the room come silent.

“Sorry.” You apologized. “Mr. Wayne, why did you felt the urge to re-open the school project at the marginalized neighbourhoods of Gotham after your father failed attempted?”

The men was halfway leaving, but he turned around reluctant, staring right at you. Those piercing blue eyes roaming your face.

“Well, I believe the project needs a second chance. Children and teenagers should be given a chance to have a good education, it helps getting them out of the streets.” He answered, without the microphone his voice was low, but the silence of the room let you hear him loud and clear. “Who do you write for?”

“The Gotham Gazette” You answered proudly.

Mr. Wayne whispered something to the other man and sat back at the chair.

“Do you have any more questions, Miss…?”

You smile politely and told him your name.

“Would you say that the Wayne Foundation has an impact outside of Gotham?”

A ghost of a smile appeared on the man’s lips. You shook the urge to smile back at him.

You could tell he was a bit nervous, but he had answered the questions with manners and the right words, maybe he didn’t notice, but he’s quite good at it.

“Yes. I think the work we do on the Foundation inspires people to do the same. If it works out, we can show the world that if there was hope for Gotham there’s hope for them too”

“Do you think there’s hope for Gotham?” You asked, out of spite, because you didn’t write it down before the press.

His lips contracted to a thin line and he thought of it for a few seconds before answering:

“Yes. As long as people like me and you care about what happens here, there’s still hope for the city”

You smiles.

“People like me?”

“You seem to know a lot about the charity work, and you care enough to show it to the world”

Your smile grew bigger and you felt a hint of warm rushing through your cheeks.

Mr. Wayne answered a few more of your questions before the press conference was over.

You were, oh, so proud of yourself. The information you gathered was perfect for what you had in mind and for sure, you could make it a good article. An admiring of the Wayne legacy, that’s what you called yourself. It has always called out to you what that wealth family did; they had no obligation to do it, to donate not just money, but time and resources to help those who couldn’t have what they did, to make Gotham something to be proud of. It’s a shame they never lived long enough to cure it, to heal it. However, you hoped that, maybe, Bruce did. At least he sound determined to.

You gathered your things and your purse, but as you made your way to the elevator, a woman dresses on formal clothes approached you with a clean, sharp smile that made her look like a dental paste commercial.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind, following me?”

You frowned.

“Ahn…What for?”

“Mr. Wayne wishes to speak to you” She explained and her smile somehow grew wider.

Standing there for a few seconds, all you could do was nod as you followed her through a long corridor. What was happening right now? He wants to speak to you? Bruce Wayne wishes to speak to a journalist in private? And more important, to you.

She opened a door to a breath-taking office.

Right in front of you was a full wall window, a panoramic view of Gotham in all its “glory”, skyscrapers, apartment buildings, the clock tower, the bridge of the river, the field behind the road, you could see everything from up there. There was a wooden desk in front of the window, quite empty, and a chair that looked more comforting than any other you had ever sat.

When the woman closed the door behind you, your attention changed to the man standing on your left. Bruce Wayne was staring at you dead in the eyes with a facial expression of someone who just saw a ghost.

This guy seriously need some sunbathing. You shook that thought out of your head.

“Mr. Wayne. You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes” His raspy voice responded. “Sit, please”

You took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the chair and he sat opposite of you, behind the desk, diving completely into the velvet chair. He crosses his fingers and stares at you again. It made you a little uncomfortable, he did that a lot, like a hunter watching its prey.

“So…”

“I’ve searched your work. You’re really good.”

“Thank you, sir”

“You won a Pulitzer, am I right?”

“Yes, a few years ago”

When did he get the time to read all this information? It’s not like you’re super famous, even the Pulitzer wasn’t a very known prize if you didn’t know the industry.

“For a book about a serial killer in Detroit” He said, a voice that verged into an interrogation tone. “The Divine Move?”

You blinked a few times.

“I…Yes. Nathan Walters.”

He lifted his eyebrows just an inch, telling you to continue the story.

You cleared your throat.

“He uh, he used to be the altar boy of the neighbourhood church and he chose his victims based on the sins he supposed they’ve committed.” You’ve shorten it, you couldn’t understand why a billionaire was asking you about the modus operandi of a criminal who was thousands of miles away. “Why are you asking me this, if I may ask, Mr. Wayne?”

“You’re an investigative journalist. Why are you attending press conferences of a random billionaire?”

You supressed a laugh. Random.

“I grew up here, sir. I’ve always admired your family work, I took the opportunity when it was offered to me.”

“You seem to know a lot about my family history.”

“Like I said, I’m just an admiring. Although, I once thought of writing a book about the Wayne Legacy. Your legacy, sir.”

“Your legacy, sir”.

Bruce looked down at his cufflinks, the W prominent on a silvery material.

His legacy.

He once thought the Wayne Foundation was his legacy. But now he knew, his true legacy came in a bat shaped suit and sleepless nights; it came on purple coloured bruises and blood stained clothes.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well…it’s very hard to write about something when you only get superficial information.”

You were nervous, he could tell. You kept staring at the view behind him, or at your shoes, tanking a little too long to answer his questions. He wondered how could a journalist gets nervous, almost shy.

He gave you a puzzled look, not using any words to express his question. But you understood it.

“Using material that was wrote by someone else. All the records and stories about your parents have already been wrote by someone else before me, so I couldn’t say it was my work, could I?”

He hummed.

Bruce took a sigh. Maybe. Maybe this was a good idea, it could keep him in a good status with the press, plus, he’d be able to hide even further down his secret identity, having a journalist with him every day? No one would suspect his the Batman.

“There are stories and details that haven’t been told.”

You bit your lower lip.

He stared at you.

“What are you implying, sir?”

“If I tell you the stories, would you write it?”

You almost passed out.

Would you?

Who could say they had a proposal like that? Dig into the secrets of the Wayne family?

“Yes”.

___________________

a/n2: aaaah this is actually so boring I'm so sorry, also I think I made bruce a little more talkative than I would've but anyways I may change it yet.

a special thank you to @preciouslandmermaid for inspiring me to finally write this!! <3

243 notes · View notes

nocturni3 · 8 months

Text

Bruce Wayne x male reader: Late Night worries

Tw: SFW, soft, comfort, missing Jason, Bruce Wayne inner turmoil, husband reader, slight angst, worrying parents, Tim being worried and frustrated, grief

There are things that a married couple will learn together. Be it giving each other their own space to express themselves, to support them in their struggles and hardships. And yet there is much you can’t learn from the other; something’s you must learn for yourself.

M/n had learned this throughout the years of being married to two different sides of his husband.

The billionaire ex playboy, prince of Gotham…and Batman, the dark knight, savor of Gotham. Both parts of Bruce Wayne as a whole; parts of Bruce that m/n loved. Be it his husband's confidence in showing the city of the good behind his endless pockets of cash. Repairing the city that through the years of the rogue gallery deemed as the prime battle ground to face off with Batman…with Bruce.

Or seeing the Justice his husband brought to Gotham; his endless crusade against crime families to crazed maniacs had M/n worry and prideful as he attended the galas Bruce couldn’t attend knowing his husband was doing far more important things.

And no matter how much he tried M/n couldn’t help but fear the worst every time his husband went out on patrol. Alfred had tried repeatedly to assure him of Bruce’s skills and complete capability to defend himself from the insane masked rogues and petty criminals of the city.

Yet none of the older man’s efforts had worked to ease M/n’s fears as he laid in their shared bed staring out into the stormy skies of Gotham city, staring out at the silhouette of the crime ridden city.

The massive mansion was always the coldest and lone year when Bruce was gone; the bed far too cold to fall asleep alone in, the once comforting silence became deafening.

Even with Barb,Tim and Alfred in the house aiding Batman in his missions wasn’t a comfort to M/n as he laid in the large plush bed alone once more.

Letting out a shaking breath M/n turned in the bed pulling one of the many untouched pillows to his chest, smothering his face into the clean case of Bruce’s pillow and yet there still managed to be a slight hint of his husband's cologne.

For years now M/n had only the reminders of his husband's smell to sleep too; at least until the early morning sun woke the couple up, both tangled in each other's limbs to start their morning together.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights…if felt just like the night Bruce got trapped on Arkham, and tonight felt worse. Throwing the blanket off from his sweating body M/n slipped on his slippers and night robes making his way to the living room. Switching on the TV to Gotham city news; pouring himself a small glass of bourbon as he stood watching the TV tirelessly.

“Can’t sleep like this; can’t keep worrying like this, he’s going to be fine, he’s always fine-“

-BREAKING NEWS! Billionaire Bruce Wayne thrown in Arkham City!-

🦇~~~~~~🦇

Alfred was in the kitchen finishing up washing the dishes from dinner when a loud sound of glass shattering erupted the once deathly silent manor.

Dropping the dish in his hand allowed it to fall and shatter as he ran to the source of the sound. Only to come across a scene he’s seen far too many times to count.

M/n Wayne on the floor grasping his mouth with one hand as his shoulders shook with each wrecking sob as the replay of Bruce’s ‘kidnapping’ played on the large flat screen. The glass of bourbon shattered and spread all around M/ns now bloodied hand.

“Master M/n! Sir your hand!”

Alfred rushed towards the sobbing wreck of a man. A man who was always withstanding so much from the emences fear that came with master Bruce’s attention being elsewhere as Batman. Fears that would shatter what little resolve would be left after each night.

Crouching to M/n’s level Alfred gently took hold of the shaking and bleeding hand; aiding m/n Wayne to the couch.

“Up you get master m/n, you didn’t get cut elsewhere sir?-“

“B-Bruce-“

Alfred’s eyes softened seeing the desperate look in those once shining e/c eyes. The worried lines that seemed to become a permanent placement. Alfred always knew things would get worse the farther Bruce delved into his crusade on crime in Gotham. That his mission would hurt those around them and it had. It all started with M/n then…Jason.

They lost a son be it through him simply running away or worse no one knew what happened to Jason only that he was gone and the mansion was far to quiet without his and master Dicks arguments during dinner over small differences in plans.

But looking away from the new outlet on Bruce Wayne being trapped in Arkham; Alfred knew as he patched the now cleaned wounds on master M/n’s hands that M/n was hanging on a rope of desperation as he listened to the new outlet speak on the low survival rates of Arkham city…the city with in the city filled with criminals.

“Master Bruce is quite capable of surviving in such a place master M/n; as we both know”

Sparing a glance up at the man in front of him, the bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin from the lack of sleep had M/n Wayne look more dead than alive with each passing major event like this very one.

“I-I know…but I know Bruce too. And that I know that man won’t simply leave; he’ll investigate which will only lead him deeper into danger-“

“That he will and yet we both know he will always find a way to make it through against all odds sir… would it make you feel more at ease if we both help master Bruce on his mission”

M/n would once in a while help his husband on his missions; give Barbara a break away to rest once in awhile. That was before nearly witnessing his husbands death far to many times.

And yet deep down M/n had to make sure Bruce was safe! That he was even still alive-

‘No he’s still alive damn it!’

Looking down at his well bandaged hand M/n watched as Alfred clean the shattered cup up as he awaited an answer.

“I think that’s a good idea…even if it’s just for a short while, can't let you deal with all the hard work now can I?”

Alfred let out a light hearted chuckle turning his body towards the nearest trash can then to M/n.

“Oh believe me master M/n I’ve handled far worse than master Bruce’s rather common nightly actives; though the help would be much appreciated for both our sakes after all I’m not getting any younger”

Smiling M/n tightened his robe against his body before turning the large flat screen off before following Alfred down to the batcave.

“What are you saying Alfred you’re as young as ever”

M/n joked looking over to the far older man who scoffed at his joke.

“We both know that’s a load of poppycock master m/n”

Laughing as they stepped out from the elevator m/n made his way to the bat computer grabbing one of the ear pieces.

“And Alfred this is why we love you, you don’t take shot from no body”

M/n smiled as Alfred took a seat next to him, his fatherly energy filling the cold cave.

“Well I wouldn’t be a very good butler if I did now what I”

“Oh I don’t know your fighting and medical skill would’ve made up for it, alright let’s get started looks like Bruce is…of course he’s getting into a fight with Cobblepot”

🦇~~~~🦇

“So Brucey I see I can’t leave you alone for a night without you getting into life threatening trouble now can I?”

Upon hearing his husband’s joking voice Bruce nearly slipped during his climb up to the Ace chemical building. Before regaining his grip, scoffing as he spoke.

“Oh I would’ve thought you’d get used to my troubling behavior by now”

“Haha, I have…until recently I mean there was the black gate break, than Arkham asylum, now Arkham city I’m seeing a pattern of places and galas I’ve gotta keep your batty self from”

Laughing Bruce pulled himself on top of the roof looking out over the chaos that was ‘Arkham City’.

“Now where’s the fun in that, besides we both know I can’t just let these people run free. Let alone be placed practically in the middle of Gotham”

M/n smiled upon hearing the passion in Bruce’s voice, the strong morality of his husband and the love he had for the city of Gotham. The kind of love and passion he showed M/n in his protective and loving nature out in public or in their manor.

Yet a part of M/n knew there was far more to Bruce’s more protective nature… to a point that M/n couldn’t help his thoughts from drifting to the missing member of their family…Jason.

Ever since Jason had gone missing; practically vanished off the face of the earth had Batman work non-stop in his crime fighting and his search for the second member of their family of crime fighters. Bruce never forgave himself for Jason going missing, blaming himself for the fight they had before Bruce suited up to take Joker back into Arkham.

And argument M/n had to get in the middle of, it was the last night he spoke to the kid he considered as much his son as any one of Bruce’s adopted sons. And yet this sort of lose had the couple continuing their circle of non-stop fearing for their other half's safety.

More reason why both couldn’t stop the other in their duties. Batman was needed in this crime ridden city the two called home. Gotham but even more so Bruce needed Batman, needed a reason to hope for better.

“That’s putting things mildly; after all, me and Alfred have been looking through the schematics and radio channels and it’s all referring to a ‘Protocol 10’. Sent what data I could grab before the firewalls caught on to Barb…Bruce Tim could be a-“

“No”

Sighing M/n looked over to Tim who was in his Robin uniform upon hearing the news, ending his patrols to check on his tired father.

“Bruce we both know I could help you-“

“I said no Jason! I’m sorry it’s just-“

“Just something you have to do yourself yeah I get it; aye pops I’m heading back out call me when…you know”

Nodding m/n smiled sadly to Tim who’s own worried eyes stared at the bags that sat heavy under his pops e/c eyes. As Tim left the batcave to silence was nearly deafening if it weren’t for the few stray bats flying over head.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“I know babe, Tim knows too”

Alfred took this opportunity to go make them some tea for the long night ahead. Leaving the couple alone on call as Batman read over the few documents on encrypted documents M/n had found.

“He reminds me of him sometimes…always pushing, always-“

“Stubborn, headstrong, always willing to push your buttons to get any mission, training, or patrols you can give him?”

“Yeah”

A mournful silence filled the batcave as the couple focused on the work of the impending arrival of yet another long, exhausting night of crime fighting and investigative work.

“Brucey…at some point whether or not we want to admit it…Tim isn’t a kid anymore…he’s not weak, and at some point you have to let Robin spread his wings”

Bruce knew that everything his husband said was true; no matter how they felt Tim wasn’t Jason…Jason was gone; missing or dead for all they knew he could’ve just took off and didn’t look back. Tim wasn’t some kid anymore, he was trained by the best, his future looked bright even past being a crime fighter.

Sighing Batman took off towards the courthouse, the best place to start his investigation was to ask the best thief in Gotham.

“Tell Robin to keep his coms open to any calls of backup…if this nights anything to go off of right now…there more going on here”

Smiling as Alfred handed him his tea , M/n smiled at the screen of countless radio channels between the TIGER guards.

“It’s going to be one long night; be careful, l don’t want Tim to have to bring you back home in a body bag”

“ that’s not going to happen, I’ll make sure if it…love you”

“Love you too…going on stand by”

I hope you all liked a small taste of this one shot! I’ve loved the Arkham series ever since I first played it! Best games ever shocked there aren’t many of the Arkham series based oneshot out there hope I did a good job for the first of many in this new hyper-fixation of mine!

#male reader #fanfic #oneshot #angst #batman x male reader #batman arkham games #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x male reader #soft #jason todd

107 notes · View notes

miss-madness67 · 1 year

Text

Chapter Sixteen: Nonnekloster (Ivar & Alfred)

The Mistress

Vikings

The morning after Alfred left my alcoves, I went to talk to the King. I was miserable and honestly could not phantom continue living as a mistress any longer, so I decided to sincere myself to king Ecbert about my resolution. When the knowledge about my affair was brought to the public, I was originally given two options to safeguard my dignity. The first one was the one that I precisely chose: living my life as a second woman. The other choice required me to go live in the nunnery. When I made my decision I considered my love for Alfred to be the most important priority and I was ok with that. Mainly given my confidence in being able to withstand the difficulties of seeing my lover in another's arms and stand tall against the rumors of court. I believed I could lead such why life, and I was clearly wrong. Moreover, another one of the reasons why I decided not to live in a nunnery was because I was convinced that the clergy would treat me poorly for my committed sins, but I thought it could not be so much different compared to the stares and whispers in the King's villa.

Continue reading on:

AO3 / PA / WAT

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius @cdauni @justsomecreaturewandering

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #vikings x you #vikings x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #Viking #Iavr #ivar lothbrok #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x female reader #prince alfred x you #alfred x reader

47 notes · View notes

chrism02 · 1 year

Note

Hi this is the ano that asked you about, your Beauty and The Beast story. Thank you so much for posted it, I love reading your stories. Good luck.

I'm happy that you like my fics. Here's another chapter 😉

La princesse et la bête - Chapter 5

This masterpiece was done by the amazing @erebus0dora

Tag list: @purplelupins @eroticaplush @unitedfandomsoftheworld

@reuripotte @overlookedfile @randomfandomtrash28 @littlethief78

@belladonnaaura @wolfe171 @movieexpert1978 @yesalwayswelles

@jembug28 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @benedicttcumberbabe

@whateverthecostner @redlektor

@mimiscappinisideblog

#alfred molina #sheik amar #sheik amar x reader #prince of persia #prince of persia: the sands of time #aladdin #au magic #beauty and the beast

34 notes · View notes

ice-cream-writes-stuff · 2 years

Text

Little Blurb of Civilian Bruce x Villian Reader

"HELLO! HERO'S, VIGILANTES, GOTHAM VILLIANS ALIKE!"

You announced on top of the tallest tower of Gotham City. A sly smile on your face as a reporter and camera man watched you from a helicopter. Broadcasting you across all the televisions of Gotham City.

"As you may not already know... This is my last performance, a real show stopper if you will. For I! Have turned a new leaf!"

You yell with a cheerful smile as your minions behind you cheer you on! You smirk at the vigilantes across from you from the Wayne Enterprise Building. A fond smile crossed your face as you regain your composure.

"I haven't gone soft if that's what you think, instead. I tend to... Retire. For I have seen the highs, and lows of villainy. And as a civilian. Even a hero... For at least a moment!" The breeze flows through your hair as you say your goodbye.

Letting yourself back away into the shadows before the teen vigilante group had decided they had enough of your speech.

"Bruce, you need to be careful! With all those villains on the news and stress, it's not good for you." You mumble, exasperated at your lovers bruised hands. Kissing the blotchy purple skin, as he laughs lightly at your silliness.

You don't bother with the harden stares of his sons. Only focused on making this gem of a man happy and content.

"I'll get you some ice, you boys don't mind watching him? I don't want him to hurt himself even more." You say playfully, winking at the prince of Gotham as you sway to the kitchen. Bruce chuckles to himself, wincing at the sudden flashes of pain on his hands.

Jason signed, "so, we aren't gonna tell him. Right?"

Dick, Tim and Damion nod in sync.

"Yeah,"

"Yup."

"Father is a fool."

"A love-sick one, that's for sure!" You cackle as you quietly enter the room. Ice pack in hand as Alfred follows close behind with bandageds and steroids to calm the swelling.

(It's late where I live this just appeared to me and I had to write it. This Au is so cute! Recommend checking out!!)

#civilian bruce au #yandere batboys #yandere batfam x reader #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batfam #batfamily #bruce batfam x reader #villian reader #dc x reader #batman x reader #this was a lot of fun #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #more characters to be added

814 notes · View notes

littleredwing89 · 1 year

Text

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 10

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Implied Smut. Some Angst. Fluff.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the FINAL chapter! :) But don’t worry. I have two extra chapters - epilogues as such xoxo

——

Dick immediately knew something was wrong the second he stepped into the penthouse apartment. The place stank strongly of whiskey and smoke. It wasn’t often Jason invited him round for poker, just the two of them but Dick didn’t want to refuse his brother. Jason had sounded hollow over the call making him worry. Dick looked across at his brother and frowned, it was clear Jason hadn’t shaved in over a week. The dark fuzz clearly irritated him as he clawed at it during their third game.

“You know”, Dick drawled, unable to hold back any longer, “The last time I checked you weren't being investigated by the GCPD”.

“Shut up and deal”, Jason snapped, downing the last of his drink. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. Since the argument he hadn’t slept well. The look on your face haunting him when he told you it didn’t mean anything.

Dick sighed and slid several cards across the table, “So I noticed you didn't bring Y/N to the gala that Bruce hosted last week”.

Jason cast his eyes up quickly, squinting at Dick, “Just say what you're going to say, Grayson. Don't bother with the preamble”.

“Did Y/N finally realise she's too good for you?”.

“Not exactly”, Jason sighed, carding his fingers through his messy hair.

“Why do I feel like what your about to say next is going to be really fucking stupid?”, Dick groaned and slapped his cards face down onto the table, huffing out a puff of air irritably.

“I did the right thing”, Jason muttered, not quite believing himself. If it was the right thing, why did he feel so lousy? Why did he want to call you every minute of the day and beg for your forgiveness?

Dick rolled his eyes, “You and the rest of us have a very different view on things”.

“We ended things - ok?! - Jesus leave it alone”, Jason spat poisonously, the words replaying in his mind. The unshed tears in the corners of your eyes you wouldn’t let fall in front of him. Not wanting to give him that victory.

“Why the fuck would you do that? Seriously?”, Dick slammed his palm down on the table harder than he intended, startling Jason for a second.

Jason scoffed, “Not all of us can afford to be sentimental, Grayson”.

“No one is going to think less of you if you just admit you’re scared”, Dick looked at his brother sympathetically. Jason hadn’t always been great with his emotions, often letting them get the better of him.

“I am NOT scared!!”, Jason growled and swept everything off the table in a fit of rage, chest heavy with deep breaths.

Dick looked up at him unphased, having seen these kinds of outbursts before, “Really?”, he laughed softly and leaned down to pick up half of the shattered glass from the floor, “You know what, she is too good for you, maybe I was wrong”.

Jason felt the flare of anger explode through him, the truth scorching his insides, “Stay out of it Grayson”.

Not allowing his volatile temper to bother him, Dick shrugged, “I’m your brother Jason and I’m not going to sugar coat anything for you...the truth hurts…Alfred would tell you the same thing”.

The words stung Jason harder than Dick probably intended. Especially mentioning Alfred. God, Alfred, he’d absolutely adored you. Jason cracked and buried his face in his hands realising he missed you. He missed every little thing about you. And now, now he didn’t have you. Fuck it hurt.

“You've got more money than sense”, Dick patted Jason on the back.

“I’m not really used to this sort of thing”.

Dick had to laugh at that, “I can tell”.

Jason glared embarrassed as Dick tried to hold back the laughter, “I don’t really know what to do…I kind of, well, I fucked it all up”.

“Promise me after this you’ll stop making me the sensible one…I don’t like it, it gives Bruce ideas”, Dick sighed before throwing the broken glass into the nearby bin, “Look…just talk to her, she’s a smart woman, she’s probably hoping you’ll call her”.

“You make it sound so easy!”.

“Look, take it from someone who’s lost some really special people…talk to her, don’t waste anymore of your time, or you’ll regret everything you never said”, Dick’s own face twisted with an unspoken sadness. Jason nodded slowly and dug his hands into his trouser pockets.

Dick sighed, rolling a poker chip between his fingers, “If you leave it any longer she’ll be gone for good. She’ll either find another firm to work for or she’ll leave the city. Plenty of companies would double her wage to have her”, he glanced over at his brother and rolled his shoulders, “Hell Jason, plenty of guys would jump to date her, she’s the full package, even I’m considering asking her on a date”.

“Don’t you dare”, Jason growled before looking sullen again, “And I know…Don’t you think I already fucking know all of this? I’ve been expecting her notice every damn day…”.

He didn’t want to admit that as each day passed and he didn’t receive it, he was thankful.

“So why are you still sitting here like a moron? You know what you have to do…do it, before I go do it for you”.

——

Four weeks had passed since that morning in his apartment. Four long weeks. You’d thrown yourself into your work completely, immersing yourself with more high pressured projects. It kept your mind busy. Whenever your thoughts strayed, they would linger on him. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself by thinking about him. The pain was still raw. Making your way up the steps in your apartment complex, the wine bottles clinked against each other. You must have sounded, and looked, like an alcoholic but your favourite wine had a ‘buy one get one free offer’ and you couldn’t turn that down.

Making your way up the last flight, you pushed through your front door, dropping your bag next to it with a heavy sigh. You could finally drop the fake smile. It was just you. You kicked your heels off and padded through into the kitchen, both bottles of wine in hand. You’d just placed them onto the counter when you heard the raspy cough behind you.

You screamed, spinning round with the corkscrew in your hands. It was the only weapon you had to hand and it seemed like a damn good option against your reasonably polite house intruder who had the decency to alert you to his presence before he tried to kidnap you, or worse.

“It’s just me!”.

That voice. That fucking, deep drawl. The one you’d pictured strangling numerous times during the long tedious business meetings.

“Jason?!”.

“Hi”.

Was that all he had to say?! You fumed silently, glaring at him.

“I nearly fucking stabbed you!!”, you shouted, dropping the corkscrew onto the counter, “Are you fucking mad?!”.

He shifted uncomfortably in the kitchen doorway before leaning against it, hands burying themselves deep into the front pockets of his sweatpants. He cast his eyes down to your flooring, mumbling something to himself.

“What are you doing here?”, you rested your hand on the granite top, “Actually, more interestingly, how the hell did you get in here?”.

“I still have your spare key…and the doorman remembered me”.

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say to the man who you’d given so much of yourself to, only to have it returned in tiny fragments.

Jason pushed himself off the frame, edging towards you, “I-errr, I know I should have done this sooner”.

Scowling, you turned away from him and grabbed one of the bottles of wine, carrying it across to the cupboard above the sink.

He sighed and followed after you, your silence deafening him, “Can we at least talk Y/N? Please? I know this is a bit late”.

You grabbed an empty glass from the cupboard, “We can...I just don't think I'll like being sober while we do it”.

“What makes you think that?”.

“It’s you!”, you growled irritated, “You just show up at my apartment without a word of warning and expect a fucking welcome party! Not to mention the fact you’re trespassing! I could have you arrested!”.

You popped the cork from the bottle, throwing it into the bin violently before pouring yourself a liberal glass. After the day you’d had and now he was here, you fucking needed it.

“There's also the fact that this has been stewing for over a month Jason...Do you want me to keep going?”.

“Princess-”.

Jason rested his hand on your lower back, the heat of it made you want to sink straight into him but memories flashed from the morning of your argument. You flinched away from him, snapping angrily, “Don't princess me, asshole!”.

He sighed deeply, trying to step back towards you, “I didn’t come here to argue with you, I came to talk to you”.

“Hence why I need the alcohol”, you brushed past him again and grabbed a second glass from the cupboard, “Go on”.

You poured a second helping of wine and passed it to him, “You'll probably need this too”.

Jason took a large gulp before leaning against your kitchen side, his eyes drinking you in, “I’m not good at this kind of shit you know”.

Grabbing the second bottle of wine, you gave him a small smile, “Alcohol makes everything easier, plus, I have two bottles of this to get through”.

He scoffed, “You sound like an alcoholic”.

“One therapy problem at a time”.

The laugh that left his mouth made you chuckle too. His lips quirked. He’d missed your wit.

“I've been thinking-”.

“You and thinking…together? Wow. You must have had a lonely four weeks”.

Jason grunted, “Are you going to let me finish or keep being snarky?”.

You smiled slyly over the rim of your wine glass, “You've never complained before, but go on”.

He ignored your comment, “As I said, I've been thinking about us and-”, he shook his head slightly and took a large swig of his wine, “Fuck me”, he grunted, “I have no idea how people can talk about this stuff”.

“Over email I'm told”.

Jason grinned slightly, “Yeah, I probably should have done that”.

“I would have deleted it”, you smiled innocently, taking another large sip of your wine. You started to feel the little buzz warming your insides.

“Fair point”, he conceded before taking one of your hands in his, squeezing gently, “What I'm saying is, if you let me, I-I want to try again”.

The world stopped spinning. Your breath caught in your throat whilst you processed his words.

“In what way?”, your voice was barely above a whisper, worried this was just a dream. You’d wake up from your wine induced sleep, alone again.

Jason brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it delicately, whispering back, “I mean, just me and you…together. A real team…official”.

You stared at him, a little dumbfounded. You hadn’t expected that. No matter how much you’d wanted to hear it, you didn’t imagine Jason would ever say it. Even in his own, business like fashion.

“Princess?”, his voice seemed unsure when you hadn’t said a thing.

“Sorry”, you murmured, “I just didn’t expect you to say that…”, his face twisted with panic and you squeezed his hand reassuringly, “It’s a pleasant surprise…even if you did make it sound like a business transaction”, you added teasingly with the hint of a smile. He returned it, clasping your hand.

“I need you to be patient with me”, Jason took another mouthful of the wine, “This is…it’s new territory for me Y/N, I need you to understand that”.

“How do I know you won't go back on your word?”, your eyes glossed with a vulnerability Jason had never seen before. He was used to you being so full of fire and fight. There was a sharp sensation spreading across his chest. Realisation hitting him like a gale force storm. He’d really hurt you.

“I’ve- Y/N, I’ve never felt like this about anyone else”.

You set your glass down. The shock was hard to wipe from your face. Jason had finally admitted it. He stared at you, dark eyes brimming. You reached up, your palms resting on his cheeks. The stubble was rough under your skin as your thumb stroked over his cheek.

“Jay…”.

You felt his hand slip behind your neck, closing the distance between you both to brush his lips over yours. You hummed, deepening the kiss, enjoying the way your bodies fit together as he pressed you into the kitchen counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting your hands wrap around the back of his neck.

He pulled back from the kiss reluctantly, dotting more kisses over your cheeks, working down to your neck, “Princess…”.

The shivers spread across your skin, the prickle of his stubble felt perfectly familiar. You purred his name, tilting your head backwards before pushing on his chest, “I'll give you a chance..one chance, but if you cut me off or try to push me away like that again, I will burn your club to the ground”.

Jason barked out a laugh, the vibration rumbling deep from his chest, “Drop me off the top of The Iceberg if it makes you happy”. He continued his kisses along your shoulder, nipping gently. Reaching the strap of your top he slipped it down slowly, stroking the skin as it was revealed to him.

“Too messy”, you breathed.

His fingers traced up the front of your blouse, unbuttoning each one agonisingly slow. On instinct you shuddered when his fingers came into contact with your skin. You sighed softly, having missed the way he touched you.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook that easily Mr Todd”.

“Oh I know I’m not”, he kissed you again, smirking subtly, “I know I have a lot of making up to do…if you’ll let me”.

——

You waved at Bernice, a bright smile on your face as you pushed open Jason’s office door. She returned the smile with her own, waving briefly before digging back into the mountain of paperwork beside her. After the first month of your weekly visits and frequent lunch dates, she no longer questioned why it was you were visiting Mr Todd so often.

Jason looked up from his computer and grinned seeing you. He leaned back in his chair, edging away from his desk slightly, “You’re a little earlier than usual. Have you come to give me a birthday treat?”.

You rolled your eyes at him, working your way around his desk before dropping into his lap slowly, “How does it feel to be another day closer to death?”. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smirking when he huffed.

“You’re so optimistic”, he rolled his eyes sarcastically before nudging his cheek against yours, a silent gesture of intimacy, “Why don’t you try flattering me instead princess?”.

“Your ego is big enough”.

Jason turned his face and brushed his lips against the shell of your ear, “That’s not the only thing big enough”, he growled playfully before nipping earlobe.

“You are terrible”, you laughed softly but your cheeks felt hot at the thought of him. He shuffled slightly, adjusting you to sit more comfortably.

“Are you excited for your birthday dinner party tonight? Alfred’s coming too”.

“I am, thank you for arranging it”, his arms wrapped around your middle pulling you into his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

You nestled closer, playing with his tie, “Are you looking forward to all the presents you're gonna get?”.

“Like what?”.

Your lips curved upwards innocently and you tugged the fabric gently between your fingers, “Oh you know, golf clubs, Viagra, whiskey, the works”.

Jason slipped his hands down to your thighs and stroked up your stocking clad leg, “As if I need Viagra when I’ve got you”.

You went to say something but Jason cut over you, his hands peeling away from the lace trimming on your hold ups. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk pulling out a slim black box with a crimson bow, “I have a gift for you actually”.

“A present?”, you took the box from him and frowned softly, “But it’s your birthday. I’m supposed to give you something”.

“I think you’ll like this though, open it”, Jason nudged the box in your hands and watched you intently. You noticed the corner of his eye twitching. Why was he so nervous?

“Are you sure?”.

“I’m 90% sure you’ll like it…”, he gave you a small smile trying to mask the panic building behind his eyes, “Maybe 80%…”.

A key to his apartment sat in that box. Something he’d never shared with anyone else in his life. It’d been an obvious choice for him, you barely left his home since you’d made things official. Half your stuff was littered around his place and, well, he liked it. He didn’t want it any other way.

Tugging the red ribbon, you looked into his eyes, “As long as it isn't a cheap purse, we're good”.

Jason scoffed, clearly unamused, “What have I ever bought you that’s cheap?”.

You grinned, “True…Though you tear my underwear off like it's cheap”.

He smirked cheekily before nodding back down to the box, “Just open the present princess”.

You opened the box slowly, a little unnerved with Jason’s own jittery behaviour. When you slipped the lid off, a soft gasp left your lips. There, sat neatly in black tissue paper was a key card to his apartment with your own personalised silver key-ring attached to it; the first letter of your name. Your breath hitched and you felt a burst of warmth rushing through you. It was obvious what this was. It wasn’t just a key to his home. It was an unspoken phrase.

Jason watched as you opened it, swallowing thickly at your silence, “Err, surprise?”. The worry started to curdle deep in his stomach. Maybe he’d read this all wrong. Maybe this was a step too far. The spiralling thoughts stopped when you spoke again, voice laced with joy.

“Are you certain this is what you want?”.

The question was serious but the bright smile on your face told Jason all he needed to know.

His hands stroked along your waist softly, “Of course, you practically live there anyways, you might as well have a key”.

Your fingers traced over the silver initial attached to the key card, a diamond dangled down behind it, “And whose fault is that?”.

“What can I say? I’ve got used to having you in my bed permanently…as well as waking up to you cooking for me”, he smirked, eyes sparkling with implicit love.

“Chauvinistic pig”, you laughed and jabbed his chest.

Jason swiped your hand quickly, pressing a kiss to the back of it smoothly, “Ah, ah, ah! You can’t talk to the birthday boy like that”.

You pressed your lips to his lightly, clutching the key-card tightly in your other hand. When you pulled back, you gave him a genuine smile, “Thank you”.

“Welcome home”, he murmured.

———

Standing in the en-suite bathroom, you swiped the deep rouge lipstick over your lips, puckering them to ensure even coverage. Your black dress hung loose on your frame, still waiting to be zipped at the back. Leaning forward, you eyed your make up closely, checking there weren't any smudges in sight.

Jason let his eyes rake over your body for a long second, before clearing his throat. The cough behind you made your eyes dart in the mirror, catching his gaze.

“You nearly done?”, he leisurely rested against the door frame, his tie hanging loose around his neck. You let your own gaze run over him in his dark grey suit. It did little to hide his large frame and muscles.

“Nearly, can you zip me up please?”, you shimmied your ass at him.

“Keep that up and we won’t get out the door”, he smirked, slapping your ass playfully before zipping your dress up slowly, ensuring his fingers grazed your bare skin.

You felt the dress become tight around your body and you turned around when he finished, slinking your arms around his neck, “Thanks”.

“You look beautiful”, he complimented, hands settling on your lower back, teasing the curve of your ass.

You flushed at his words. He always managed to catch you off guard. You’d been expecting something sexual, maybe a little explicit. But he swayed in with an honest compliment. Your hands found his tie and you tutted under your breath, fixing it up before tightening it.

“My mother always says loose ties signal when men are going to start misbehaving”.

“She isn’t wrong”, he chuckled huskily and let his hands travel south, groping you.

“Well there will be a bunch of other men to keep an eye on tonight, not including you”, you kissed the corner of his mouth and smiled, “I’m going to be exhausted keeping you all in check”.

Jason grinned, “When the others start loosening their ties, that's your cue to leave with the other women”.

“What if you start loosening your tie?”.

He growled quietly, gripping onto your waist, “Then it's our cue”.

You raised your eyebrow, “Our cue?”, you smirked stroking your hands over his chest, the heat pouring from him made you shiver.

He groaned under his breath, enjoying the way your hands travelled his body. He couldn’t get enough of you. The familiar coil started to tighten in his stomach.

Leaning up, you breathed quietly into his ear, purring softly, “And…What if I loosen your tie for you…Sir?”.

The sparks fired up his spine and he edged you back against the bathroom sink, lifting you up easily, “Then princess, you're just asking for it”.

Your fingers found their familiar place, wound through his dark locks sending waves of bliss through him. His kisses worked down your neck, stubble grazing over your weak spot. You tipped your head back against the mirror, whispering airily, “Jason…we’re going to be late…you know Bruce will only complain”.

“Fuck it”, he grunted, “It’s my birthday”.

——

#ceo!jason Todd x reader #ceo!jason todd x you #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader insert #red hood fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x reader insert #red hood smut #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader au series

268 notes · View notes