#Acropen

[watchtower-feed]

Detective

Anon: after your last imagine I can't shake college Damian off my mind, can I request one about him and his s/o in college? I don't really have an specific idea but something like walking them to class, studying together, getting each other coffee and just overall taking care of each other. Notes: I didn’t get to cover everything in the request because there are too many scenes and I didn’t wanna turn this into a bullet point fic. Hope you like it though! Words: 2,774

     “No.”

     The girl that approached the table looked forlorn and her friends slowly helped her walk away.

     “Ugh,” Will groans. He’s one of Damian Wayne’s friends and their varsity is currently doing charity work for Gotham Academy. Will took a brilliant idea from the internet where they set up a table offering people to walk them around campus if they feel bullied or generally unsafe.

     “You can’t keep saying no to people, Wayne. That’s not how the charity works.”

     Damian clicked his tongue. “I know exactly how this works, and those girls did not need assistance.”

     “Yeah. In the bedroom, they did,” Mike laughs and tries to fistbump Will who just stares at him until he puts his hands down.

     Damian’s attention is already taken by you. He kicks back his seat to leave.

     “Where are you going now?” Will whines.

     “Helping someone who actually needs it.”

     You’re walking to your next class while looking over your shoulder every now and then. To Damian, they’re simple signals of someone who feels like they’re being followed. So he stands right in front of your path in the middle of the quad where there is a multitude of people around. You almost bump into him but he quickly takes a step back to give you your space. 

     You know him. Everybody on campus knows him. He’s the greatest player the football team has ever had. Too bad he left halfway through his first semester and joined the swim team instead.

     Damian is staring down at you from being almost a foot taller. Then something catches his eye and he looks at someone behind you who quickly hides behind a statue.

     You see a small snarl on the corners of his lips before he starts taking steps around you. You stop him immediately.

     “You can’t--”

     “Why not?” Damian quickly asks.

     “If you-- if you get in a fight again, they’ll kick you off the team.” 

     Damian raises his eyebrows in thought, “That doesn’t sound like much of a loss to me.”

     “Please don’t.” You grip his arm tighter.

     He stares at you, “Why haven’t you reported him?”

     “He-- he hasn’t done anything. He’s smart. He keeps his distance and no one has actually noticed him following me around.”

     “I did.”

     And you want to thank him for that. This whole semester has been a nightmare for you. It started with your survival instincts kicking in, always warning you that you’re in danger. Your gut has never failed you so you listened. But this stalker is so good that he’s hidden himself well from all of your friends. Friends you’ve lost because they deemed you too paranoid and anxious.

     “Come on.” Damian’s voice saves you from your thoughts. “I’ll walk you to your class. Spanish, right?”

     You’re stunned, “How-- how do you know that?”

     He rolls his eyes and then points at your books. “It’s the one on top of your pile. Lucky guess.”

     You suddenly feel assured and laugh a little. “You’re quite the detective.”

     His eyes widen at the comment and he slowly turns back to you. “You have no idea.”

     Damian walks you right up to the door of your classroom. As soon as you thank him, he leaves and heads for his own class. When it’s time for lunch, you’re surprised to find him standing against the wall outside of the room.

     “You’re here.”

     “Do you have another class?” he asks you while his eyes roam the hallways.

     “No, I’m about to have lunch.”

     “Okay. Let’s go.” Without giving you time to respond, he starts walking to the cafeteria and you try to keep up with his strides. 

     So far nobody has paid attention to the two of you. But when Damian carries both of your trays to your table, the staring and the whispers start. There are even some flashes from cameras that almost blind you.

     “Sorry,” he mutters under his breath while concentrating on his food.

     You shake your head as you watch the lines on his brows and the irritation on his face. “It must be hard being a Wayne,” you say.

     He grins at the thought of what it’s like to be a real Wayne beyond what the gossip columns say. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s all this stupid attention that I hate.”

     “That’s probably why you don’t date, huh?” Damian looks up and stares at you with a raised eyebrow. You quickly wave your hands, “It’s just that-- my friend-- well my old friend-- she asked you out once and you said you’re not interested. We teased her that maybe you’re just not interested in her but--”

     A sudden flash hits the side of your cheeks and Damian is quickly leaving his seat and marching over to another table, the table where your stalker is sitting with a camera pointed at you. You wince at the sight of it. 

     Damian grabs the man’s camera still strapped around his neck. “What? Did you think you could hide your flash among these paparazzi wannabes?” Before he could say anything, Damian takes off the camera and starts flipping through the pictures. 

     “Hey, man! That’s mine!”

     Damian scoffs. “Really? That’s good then. You can get it back from the cops.” Damian turns the camera around and shows the stalker a picture of you in the girl’s shower. His eyes widen and quickly tries to run but Damian grabs him by the collar and slams the side of his head against the table.

     You watch all of this go down from your table. People’s murmurs are louder, trying to figure out what’s going on. When word reaches you that Damian is calling the cops, you feel a new kind of relief wash over you. Suddenly, your shoulders felt lighter and it’s easier to stand up straight.

     Damian stays with you the whole time. Whenever the officers and the stalker’s voices got too loud, your voice would falter and Damian would speak for you, authoritatively holding everyone’s attention. 

     Once the stalker was detained and all evidence tagged, you and Damian walk back to campus.

     “You seem… happy.”

     You didn’t even notice you’re smiling until you touch the upturned corners of your lips. “I feel kind of free… like a bird.”

     Damian snorts to himself, “Yeah.” 

     You mull something in your head and speak your thoughts out loud, “You planned that, didn’t you?” Damian stops walking and he’s looking at you when you turn around. “You knew he wasn’t just following me, and that he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity you created.”

     Damian’s brows furrowed, “I apologize for using you as bait--”

     “No!” you interrupt and hold his hands, “I was just thinking that it’s ingenious. Forget being a detective, you’re almost as good as Batman.”

     Damian smirks. You suddenly see a whole new side of him probably no one on campus has ever seen. A playful one. “Just almost?”

     When you reach the dorms, Damian walks you right up to your door. He takes a quick look inside to make sure you’re roommate is already there. Before you let him leave, thinking this will probably be the last time you’ll be together again, you gather up the courage to hold his arm, stand on your toes, and kiss him on the lips. “Thanks. For everything.”

     Damian gives you a look before he nods and leaves. You watch a small shade of red reach the tips of his ears as you cover your own blush.

     The next day, Damian Wayne is back at the table with his varsity friends. You walk by and only mean to wave at him before your next class. But as soon as he saw you, he shrugs off Mike’s arm from his shoulder and gets up to leave.

     “Dude, no. You’re bailing again?” Will whines.

     “You have more than enough people here. Just message me.”

     Will slumps down in his seat and crosses his arms, “Yeah right. It’s not like any of us has your number.”

     “They don’t look too happy about you leaving,” you tease as he approaches you.

     He shrugs nonchalantly, “They’ll live.” He gives you a long look before he raises an eyebrow in curiosity, “You seem happier today.” You quickly blush and immediately think of the kiss from last night. “You’re thinking about the kiss, aren’t you?”

     You stare at Damian with wide eyes. You wonder if he’s either a real detective or you’re just too obvious. You laugh, “You, too. I mean you’re actually teasing me. Where is the always-reserved Damian Wayne of Gotham Academy and what have you done to him?”

     He smirks and points ahead to the direction of your next classroom, World History. You look down at the top book in your pile and roll your eyes. Definitely the detective. Definitely obvious.

     After class, there’s no Damian standing outside waiting for you. You try not to feel the tiny pang in your chest and walk to your Figure Drawing class. As soon as you walk in, you come face to face with a very naked Damian Wayne.

     When Damian returned to the varsity table, Will had given him punishment for bailing twice in a row and volunteered him to be the model for a class. Damian has absolutely no problems with appearing naked in front of anybody. To him, this was just a chore he had to do to live up to his civilian identity.

     But as soon as he sees you walk in through the door and your eyes roam from his head all the way down to his toes, he grits his teeth. “I’ll kill him.”

     “Y/N, please. You’re already late. Take your seat.”

     Your lecturer’s voice jolts you back to your senses and you quickly take a seat on the far side of the room. It’s one of the most grueling classes you’ve been in since you got to the academy. Damian avoided your eyes the whole time.

     “Y/N, wait for me.”

     Damian calls out while he put on his clothes. You’re already standing by the door and a lot of people had stayed to continue to watch him. When they heard him call out to you, they instantly turn and glare.

     As soon as he reaches you, he puts his arm around your shoulder and you walk out together. You can feel the heavy weight of his arm rest on top of you.

     “Do you have another class?” he asks. You shake your head, still unable to speak to him because you keep seeing him naked inside your head. “Good. Let’s have lunch in the city.”

     Damian takes you to a small diner hidden in a corner between the business district and the Narrows. The lunch rush is already over and you find yourselves in a corner booth.

     “Wow,” you say. “I never expected you to eat at a place like this. You’re more down-to-Earth than I thought.”

     “As opposed to what?”

     “Oh, I don’t know. Being a rich kid? Everything handed to you on a silver platter?”

     “Trust me, Y/N. Nothing was ever handed to me. Everything I have-- everything I am, I worked for.”

     You prop your elbow on the table as you look at the once menacing Damian Wayne. The past two days, you’ve spent with him have completely changed your opinion about him and a little of the ancient Wayne family.

     Speaking of.

     “My family’s here,” Damian mutters as he scoots over until he’s sitting next to you, freeing up his side of the booth. A group of four walks into the diner and start heading for your booth. “Damian!”

     “Good morning, Grayson. Cain.” 

     Two of the four, nod their heads at you. While the shortest boy, who is still taller than you, crosses his arms. “Rude. What about us?”

     Damian doesn’t pay him any attention. You watch as they enter the booth in a single file. 

     “Late night?” Damian asks.

     The one he called Grayson gives a long sigh as he sits next to Damian. “You have no idea. Would’ve been faster if Rob-- Ow!” The tallest of the three elbows him and nudges his head toward you. “Oh, hello there.”

     “Are you on a date?” asks the girl he called Cain, smiling.

     “Yes.”

     “We are?” you ask right away. You tried to keep your voice low but from the way their eyes widen, you know they heard you.

     They look at each other and smirk. “Looks like you forgot to inform your date,” teases the tallest one.

     Damian smirks to himself before replying. “Y/N can’t think straight at the moment. Still a little flustered after seeing me naked.”

     Damian pulls you closer to him to avoid the spray of water from one of his siblings. “We really shouldn’t be letting you loose into society without a harness, Drake.” 

     “It was for figure drawing class,” you chuckle to break the tension, and try to appease their wide eyes with your waving hands. “I’m Y/N by the way. I go to GA, too.”

     “I’m Dick,” one of his siblings reaches around Damian to shake your hand. “These are Cass, Jason, and Tim. We’re Damian’s siblings--”

     “Adopted.”

     Jason looms over the table and grabs Damian’s head to harshly rub his knuckles into his hair. “You don’t have to say that every time, demon.”

     “Todd-- Stop it--”

     Dick tries to pry them apart but ultimately fails and accidentally gets punched by one of Damian’s flailing limbs, making Jason laugh. “You may have gotten bigger, but you’re still a runt!”

     “Not-- as much-- as Drake--”

     Tim, who’s sitting at the outer edge of the booth across from you, apologizes for his brothers with a sigh. “I wish I could tell you that we’re not always like this.”

     You smile at the thought and finally realize why Damian is always so reserved on campus. He’s the youngest of such a big and lively family. Dick and Tim are familiar, too. You’ve seen their faces on the Legacy Wall of the academy. You’ve seen a few pictures of Jason and Cass, too but not as much.

     This is what Damian meant when he said he’s worked hard for everything in his life. It must be hard living behind so many giant shadows.

     When Cass finally intervenes and disentangles the boys, you place your hand over Damian’s as he sits back down. He turns to you and you give him a supportive smile.

     He smirks and raises an eyebrow, “You keep getting into a better mood each time I look at you.”

     You blush a little because who would ever expect someone to just say things like that. “Maybe your company just does that to me,” you tease back.

     You hear a quick snicker from Dick and both of you turn to him. He’s visibly whispering to Cass but it’s audible enough for you to hear. “They’readorable.”

     After that, Damian never took you back to the diner again, not wanting to let his siblings see the two of you together. But on campus, you are almost always together.

     “Stop! Stop!” you laugh and try to protect yourself from the whirlwind of water Damian is sending your way as he shakes his head. He had just finished training and met up with you at the stands where you’ve been studying while waiting.

     Damian leans down and kisses you on the lips. Your eyes widen before they slowly close as you let him lead. You hear catcalls from his teammates and you can already guess that Damian’s flipping them off.

     “Okay. Come here.” You break the kiss and pull down the towel he had draped around his shoulders. You use it to properly rub his head and dry off his hair. “You must be tired. That ran longer than usual.”

     Damian tries to look at you as you keep drying his hair, “Competition’s next week so we’re doing last-minute checks on everyone’s forms. Did you wait long?”

     You nod your head like a child. “Been here since morning. It’s so hard to date a varsity,” you groan.

     Damian takes the towel from you and rubs your face with it. “Think that’s hard? Try dating a vigilante.”

     You giggle as you try to fight Damian for the towel, “I wouldn’t mind that. Batman seems to be getting hotter these days.”

     You’re only teasing him and he knows it. But you don’t know that the mantle of Batman has been passed down to him. So he laughs out loud and it’s one of those rarest moments you want to treasure but you also can’t resist the urge to just kiss this happy and carefree version of Damian Wayne. 

#requested #Damian Wayne #Batman #batfamily #College!Damian #Older!Damian #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne imagine #Damian Wayne x reader #Robin #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[queenofthedramedies]

Caroline, the Vampire Slayer Series Links:

@acropen​ asked me yesterday how many books were in the Caroline the Vampire Slayer Series. I thought I would post links for the two stories before The Hunter’s Council for anyone who wanted to check them out. 

Hope you enjoy the fics! 😊

-J

                                                 Link to Book One

                                               Link to Book Two

#caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #klaroline #bonnie bennett #alaric saltzman #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #delena #kol mikaelson #kennett #elijah mikaelson #katherine pierce #tyler lockwood #stefan salvatore #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #jeremy gilbert #hayley marshall #marcel gerard #mikael mikaelson #esther mikaelson #tvd julian #caroline the vampire slayer series #tvd fanfiction

[gothdadbrucewayne]

acropen replied to your post “hey folks im bored send me your dc headcanons”

Are you eating.. A donut?

*ba dum tss*

no im not :D

#acropen

[watchtower-feed]

Crushing on the New Student

Anon: A very confused Damian when his heart skips a beat when he is around his crush. Words: 985

          God knows you're not the best student at Gotham Academy because just being any good would mean you come from a privileged family. You're just below average, just like everybody else who’s on a scholarship, the project student of a family willing to throw some cash around in the name of charity.

          The Dawsons were no different. You’re grateful but humility wasn’t going to be an obstacle that will stop you from thriving to be above the average margin, even by just a point. 

          That's why you're already on the academy grounds an hour before homeroom so you can start showing up those snobby elite students on your first day. But you stand still under the classroom's doorway because somebody else is already inside, their head laying down on the desk and sitting in your assigned seat.

          You tighten your grip on your bag because today is going to be the day Y/N makes her mark, even if it means starting with claiming what’s yours in an hour’s time.

          You walk toward the front of the desk and stand directly above the sleeping boy’s head. You suddenly slow down your thoughts as you watch the gentle rise and fall of the boy's shoulders. You turn to the side and see the sunkissed skin around tightening facial muscles as if he's having a sudden nightmare. His eyebrows furrow and a small strip of black hair slide down his forehead, the ends tickling the tops of his closed eyes. You see his lips twitch and you couldn't stop yourself from tucking back the stray hair.

          The boy's eyes suddenly open and grabs your wrist with his strong grip, making you bend your elbow onto the table and using it to hold yourself up.

          He stares at you intently, assessing if you're a threat. In the next moment, he's glaring with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?" he hisses.

          That quickly snaps you back to reality. "You're hurting me," you snap back. You try to look firm and solid but it’s getting harder to prop yourself upright. Damian lets go and sits in an upright position in your chair, waiting for you to answer his question. You finally find your anger and frustration build up inside you. "I was trying to wake you up,” you lie while rubbing your wrist. “You’re in my seat.”

             Damian raises his eyebrow and sweeps his eyes across the room until he finds his seat next to yours. You hear him curse under his breath before he gets up, scratching the feet of the chair against the hardwood floor. He turns to you with an indifferent look, “Apologies.”

             You watch him slip out and pull out the chair beside him. You continue watching him as you drop your bag on your desk. He suddenly wobbles and you’re quick to catch him before his knees give up.

              “Are you okay?” you say in a rush while helping him into his chair.

              He dismisses your hold on him with a wave of his hand. Rude, you thought, and glare at him. But then you watch him and you suddenly see it, the exhaustion.

             There are heavy circles around his eyes from night after night of no sleep and the sudden spasms of his hands he’s trying to control but clearly failing. He presses his lips shut and you guess that it’s because of a yawn he was suppressing.

             You go back and grab a spare sweater in your bag and drape it around his shoulders. He flinches but his head is already lowering itself onto the desk. You can’t help but smile a little when his hand grabs the hem of your sweater and tuck it close to his cheeks.

             You leave Damian alone for the rest of the morning and hush everyone that comes into the classroom. Most of the elites raise their eyebrow at you but then quickly tenses when they notice it’s Damian Wayne that’s sleeping in the class.

             Needless to say, your homeroom teacher is surprised to walk into a deadly silent classroom. When she sees Damian, she nods to herself and takes attendance silently. She introduces you to the class and you take this as the first of many opportunities to leave your mark in Gotham Academy. Your voice rang out strong and your practiced speech came out flawless and effortless as most of your classmates smiled at you.

          You feel accomplished when you slip back into your seat until you notice the sleeping boy next to you. You take a quick look and wonder if your voice woke him up. As soon as you see his eyes are closed, you turn back to the front, missing the small curve of his lips half-hidden against your sweater.

             Fortunately, the first period was self-study which gave Damian another extra hour, almost two. But by the second period, all of your classmates have been filing out of the classroom to get changed for PE, leaving you responsible for waking him up.

              You don’t really understand why everyone seems to be walking on eggshells around him because in his sleeping state, he was very... peaceful. You drop down to his eye level, keeping your hands to yourself, and gently call out him, “Damian. It’s time to go to PE.”

             His eyes open, forest green staring into yours, under long lashes. His brows furrow at how close you are. You can see his small pupils exploring every inch of your face, suddenly making you feel too close before his eyes dilate. He closes his eyes and slowly sits up.

             You follow his lead and straighten your uniform. “Go ahead,” you hear him say.

             You cough and stutter, “U-uh yeah... I’ll see you.” Before you leave, you sneak a look back at Damian and you notice that he’s glaring out the window and using his arm to hide a growing blush across his cheeks.

#requested #DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne imagine #watchtower-feed #Acropen #lexyshayyy

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter’s Dating Life

✧ …

✧ You don’t even get a day off. What makes you think you have a dating life?

✧  Least of all a normal one where you don’t have millionaire vigilantes with boundary issues dropping envelopes filled with complete profiles of your dates.

✧ You’re moping in the Wayne living room, sprawled on a couch because your last date turned out to be involved in a human trafficking ring in Gotham.

✧ Worse: Cass and the boys had to save you.

✧ “Get over it, Y/N.”

✧ “But Jason, he was soooo hot! He had sex lines!”

✧ “We have those!” Dick lifts up their shirts to show you his and Jason’s V-cut abs. You look but you’re not impressed and Jason swats Dick’s hand away.

✧ “I can’t believe you tried to convince us that he was just being blackmailed.”

✧ You sway your hand in the air, dismissing his comment. “Tim, he had a baby-face that could rival yours any day, and he was charming. How was I supposed to know he was the leader of their operation.” You finally sit up and rub your face down harshly. “Ugh! Why do I have the worse luck in dating? I must be cursed.”

✧ “Or you live in Gotham?” Cass teases you from the floor while she plays with your styled hair, twirling the curls. 

✧ “I gotta get out of this city or else I'm going to end up like Bruce.”

✧ Dick suddenly gets this bright idea to cheer you up and feed a little bit of his ego. He huddles Jason and Tim behind the couch to look down on you. “Why are you wasting your time with strangers when you have three perfectly well-mannered, well-off, and well-chiseled bachelors in front of you?”

✧ You and Cass bend down to look under the couch, “Where?”

✧ Dick props you back up and he’s grinning wider as he grabs your shoulders, “If you had to choooooose” he drags out the word as he pulls Jason and Tim back to your field of vision, “Who would it be?”

✧ “Questions like these start wars, Dick.”

✧ “Replacement’s right. Haven’t you read the Trojan War?”

✧ “That’s what you’re going with, Jason!”

✧ You sit up straight on the couch and stare at the three of them, making them stop. You make sure to deliver your retort with a deadpan expression, “I’d wait for Damian to turn 18 then live the rest of my life as a gold-digging cougar. Oh! And I would build a pool in the West wing.”

✧ “I’ll allow it,” Damian answers from one of the armchairs in front of you. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded in front of his face. “But after we condition your hips to be fit for child-bearing.”

✧ You walk out and cry to Alfred because Cass won’t even let you into her room. She’s too upset that you would choose Damian and the manor over her and a little apartment in the middle of the city like you’ve always talked about.

✧ “It’s one thing to be called fat, Alfred. But to be told I’m not woman enough by a 13-year-old?” Your eyes widen as you clutch the hem of his vest, “What does he even mean by condition my hips?”

✧ “Y/N, why wait for master Damian when master Bruce is already in his prime. He could use a woman like you to keep him in line.”

✧ You grimace. “Alfred. Are we working for the same guy? Would you date Bruce?”

✧ Alfred gives you a long look before he speaks again, “Perhaps I can introduce you to one of my nephews when they visit?”

✧ “Now we’re talking.”

✧ One day, you do fall for someone. Someone great and surprisingly none of the Wayne’s are hounding you with background checks, date stakeouts, or random texts asking if you need help bailing out on the date.

✧ You’re happy for a while but then you start getting suspicious because of the lack of Wayne activity. They’ve done it to all of your dates before, so why not now? 

✧ You start stalking your date every now and then, trying to catch him and see if he’s actually Dick in disguise. Or he’s someone Jason paid off to show you a good time. Or maybe it’s one of Tim and Damian’s alien friends. He could be Cass, too. You never know.

✧ In the end, your longest almost normal relationship ended because of your own paranoia. He broke up with you because of all the sleuthing and doubts.

✧ You were so devastated that you couldn’t bring yourself to walk into the manor. So you walk home and you text Bruce and Alfred that you can’t make it. It took you three hours to get back to your apartment and your feet are killing you. You slump over the couch and before you know it, you’ve been staring at the wall until past midnight.

✧ You hear a lot of whispers and scuffling from your fire escape. You groan when you hear them creak open your window. “Go away.”

✧ “We come in peace. We even brought Steph.”

✧ For every physical talent Cass and the boys possessed, god took back an essential social skill. Aside from you, Steph is their go-to empathy guru. “Oh, baby,” she watches you untangle yourself from the couch and hugs you tight. “Come here.” You bury your face in her shoulder and swallow back a sob. You can smell the gunpowder and smoke.

✧ “Did you have to come in your suits? You’re going to get Gotham on my carpet.”

✧ Jason bends down to look at you and gives you a proud grin and thumbs up. "Don't worry, Y/N. We made sure that guy regrets hurting you."

✧ You stare at Jason and you start snickering little by little until it turns into full-blown laughter. "He's Alfred's nephew!"

✧ "Shit--!” 

✧ “Dick, this is all your fault."

✧ "Woah hey-- It was your idea--Hey! Tim! Cass! Wait for me!"

✧ “Damian, you knew didn’t you!”

✧ “See you in hell, Todd.”

✧ You grin against Steph’s shoulder who’s giggling, “He wasn’t really, right?”

✧ “Nope. Now, they’ll race to see who can apologize to Alfred first.”

✧ “They’re going to dig their own graves!” 

✧ You sigh in satisfaction, "I feel better already."

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#waynesitter #batfam #batfamily #batfamily imagine #batfamily fanfiction #batfamily x reader #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction #batfam x reader #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter’s Days Off

✧ Let’s be real, you don’t have a day off. You just don’t have to be at the Manor.

✧ You’re out with your friends, on campus, or relaxing in your bedroom and you still have to deal with the Waynes.

✧ Dick always Facetimes you. It’s never a text or an ordinary call. He says you have to see his face or you’ll forget what he looks like.

     “YN, how could you forget an angel like that?” coos your friends as they sneak looks at your phone.

     “I can also be the devil if you’re into that.”

✧ You hang up on Dick without replying but you always call him back afterward, just to hear him pretend-cry that you don’t love him anymore.

✧ It’s more difficult with Jason because he always just shows up and takes over your time.

      “It’s laundry night, Jason. I am not going to the bar with you.”

      “But they have a two-for-one special!”

      “You can eat two by yourself, can’t you?”

✧ He looks at you like you just said something crazy. “What? And eat alone?” In the end, Jason always takes your clothes to the dry cleaners and drags you to the bar. You stay out until the sun is rising again and you’re the one bringing a drunk Jason home.

✧ When you arrive at the manor, Alfred is tending the garden and you promptly deliver Jason into his arms.

     “Isn’t it your day off, Y/N?”

     “Please. Please. PLEASE. Tell them that.”

✧ Alfred would always invite you in for a cup of tea and you never have the heart to refuse him. He lets you nap in one of the extra bedrooms so you can at least catch some semblance of sleep.

✧ Whenever you wake up in the manor, you always find Cassandra curled up next to you, touching your back. You turn around and wrap your arms around her. Then fall back to sleep.

✧ Most of the time you find yourself concentrating so well during lectures that you don’t notice people changing seats around you. Not until it becomes very obvious that the child sitting next to you is not a college student.

     “Is this how you spend your days off, YN? It’s not very productive.”

     You angry whisper, “How did you even get in here?”

✧ Damian would then point to Tim who’s sitting on your other side. “They just assumed I’m a student here.” He grins, “Plus, they allow dogs on campus.”

✧ Damian would leap onto the desk and try to maul Tim on the spot who uses his foot to keep Damian at bay. You apologize multiple times to the class as you drag the two of them outside.

    “If I lose another class, I’m not going to have enough credits this semester!”

✧ On days when you can’t sit still at home, you would walk around Gotham city during the day. Every time, without fail, Bruce Wayne would bump into you. 

     “Oh, Y/N. I was about to call you.”

     You reply with a heavy sigh, “Mr. Wayne, please. It’s my last day off.”

✧ He would always chuckle and apologize. But you watch him take a wrong turn into a dark alley or end up somewhere in the slums that you wonder how could a young billionaire be so careless. Doesn’t he see his billboards all over Gotham?

✧ So you have no choice but to follow him, grab the grown man by the elbow and drag him back to the main street. He would thank you and smile as you walk around the city.

✧ You finally get home, slip into your pajamas and lie in your bed as you go through your phone. A notification pops and it Dick sending you a picture of you and Bruce. Right after, he would Facetime you and ask why you didn’t invite him along.

✧ You would sit up because you can hear other voices yelling your name or asking if that’s you on the phone. You would watch as so many faces to try sneak in the small frame of Dick’s phone.

     “We miss you!”

     “Guys. I saw all of you today.”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#waynesitter #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #batfamily fanfiction #batfamily imagine #batfamily reader insert #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Running Hot

Notes: I lied. I didn’t write at all yesterday because I watched a sports anime on running. That’s the origin story of this baby. Also, I needed a break from the angst and write something fun. Words: 1,611

     Waking up in the morning to go jogging on campus is one of the hardest things a student has to work through to build into a habit. But not you. Not when you have a six foot three beefcake acting as your carrot (and hopefully, stick).

     Every morning, at three in the morning, an hour you didn’t know existed until now, Damian Wayne leaves your co-ed dorm to jog around the campus. After he finishes his route through every trail, he heads straight for the varsity gym until his first class at ten.

     You’re not a stalker. You don’t know this because you deliberately sought it out. You came across this information by accident. It was one drunken night where your friends forgot about you and you forgot how to get back to your dorm. So you sat by the park bench in front of the varsity building.

     That was where you first saw him. Sweat lathered limbs that made his muscles shine even in the low light. Shorts short enough to see half his ass. No shirt. And eyes that can pierce through your soul like a real, actual bad boy. Not the leather-wearing kind that smokes their lungs to shit or breaks windowshields and then runs off before the cops arrive.

     No. This boy--- this man looks like he would wait for the cops and stare them down until they agree that yes, he had to do it.

     Once sober and once it’s time for a new dawn, you put on your running shoes (ones you only use when you go grocery shopping) and head out to maybe accidentally run into this perfect hunk. You’re surprised to find the door opening before you even touch it. You look up and right above your head, there’s a strong hand pushing it open.

     You stare at it and follow the tanned muscular limb with your gaze until your eyes meet with dark green eyes setting your skin ablaze. Suddenly, it’s too hot to breathe from your nose alone. You stare and only now realize that he’s crazy tall, close to a head taller than you.

     He’s looking back at you and raises an eyebrow at your stunned figure. You completely lose it. He looks like the bad guy your parents warn you about as teenagers but you go into his van anyway because his eyebrows alone promise the most amazing sex you’ll ever experience on this planet. Maybe even in the entire galaxy.

     “You’re in the way.”

     His voice fits his body perfectly and you wonder if God is a sexually frustrated woman. It’s low and deep, almost guttural, like an animal. Can’t be tamed. Defintely wild and dangerous.

     Like a mute, you keep staring at him and Damian Wayne isn’t known for his patience. He rolls his eyes and steps closer so his foot can hold the door open. Then he grabs hold of your waist, calloused hands and a firm grip, (oh how you wish you were wearing a sports bra or crop top), and lifts you outside, out of the way of the dormitory entrance.

     As soon as he put you down, you cover your face with your hands because you may not see it but you can definitely feel the red on your face. When you look, he’s already gone.

     The next morning, you’re wearing a sports bra and running shorts, and you’re already stretching outside at 2:30 am. You hear kinks and cracks every time you fold your limbs over the other and you wonder if you should do this regularly, at least to keep healthy.

     Finally, at 3:08 am, Damian walks through the doors. His eyes catches yours for a single second before he already breaks into a run. You almost trip as you try to keep up. You’re swearing to yourself as you try to keep up with him. His pace makes you wonder what ever happened to warmups? Or jogging? Why does he have to be running?

     You last 5 minutes before you stop and lose him. You’re wheezing like an asthmatic 6-year-old during his first PE class. “Fuck you, Damian Wayne,” you say out loud.

     The next day you’re already jogging. You take your chances and see if he follows the same path. By 3:11 am he runs past you and you speed up to keep up. You last 8 minutes this time, losing him again.

     You keep doing this every day and you keep asking yourself if you’re a stalker or a madman. Why are you doing this to get Damian Wayne’s attention? Why can’t you just ask him for his number like a normal college student? 

     But this has gone on for too long that you don’t feel like giving up. You just want to finish his whole lap around campus until he enters for the varsity gym. If you do that, if you can finally keep up, then maybe you’ll stop this. And maybe Damian Wayne will ask you out.

     Of course, it’s not easy to get on athlete’s level. Especially if you’re not even an amateur. So it takes you months. At least it’s not half a year, but months of running every single morning is still an insane amount of dedication to chase after a hunk whose eyes can make you cum in an instant. Or is it?

     You shake your head, dispelling such thoughts because the view in front of you is amazing. You’re staring at Damian Wayne’s bare back, chiseled to perfection and ruggedly adorned with long scars that could rival a bear hunter’s marks.

     Then you realize it’s past 4 am. You’re suddenly giddy with excitement and adrenaline because he’s about to head to the varsity gym.

     Suddenly, all happy chemicals in your body leave you as you watch him turn towards the campus border. You stand, breathing loud and annoyed, while watching Damian Wayne continue running on the road until he was out of sight.

     You skip the next day. You lay awake until it’s time for your first class and you go through the day just like any other, but more upset.

     “Gosh, Y/N. Why are you in such a pissy mood? Isn’t exercise supposed to give you happy hormones or something?”

     “It’s called dopamine, dumbass. I almost made it yesterday, okay? But then Damian Wayne decides to change his running route and goes off campus!”

     They chuckle, “You fucking stalker.”

     You hit your friend and pout, “I’m not. This information just came to me.”

     To your further annoyance, they laugh and tease you some more. One of them suddenly stops and stares at someone behind you, and quickly says, “Kind of like how Damian Wayne is coming to you. Right now, Y/N. Like now.” Your friend grabs your shoulders and turns you until you see him standing behind you in his full (and fully clothed) glory, along with some of his varsity friends beside him.

     He looks at you with his arms crossed and he raises one eyebrow. You suddenly ask the god of sexual frustration what you’ve done to anger her.

     “I didn’t see you running this morning.”

     “Oh,” you stammer dumbly because your jaws and mouth muscles have suddenly gone stiff. “Cramps?”

     His eyebrow goes down while the other shoots up. Dear god, he can do it with both of them!

     “Are you asking me?”

     “No! Did I? Did I ask you out?”

     Loud groans flood your table like a tsunami. While his friends snicker loudly.

     “No, I didn’t! Ugh--” you harshly rub your face, trying to wipe off the stupidity you woke up with this morning, “I meant to ask you out--” but it obviously didn’t work. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

     “Promise?” teased one of his friends who’s leaning in over Damian Wayne’s shoulder while holding his stomach, cramped from all the laughing.

     Damian Wayne pushes his face back effortlessly and turns to you with the same deadly serious expression he always seems to have. “So you didn’t run this morning because you were going to ask me out?”

     You sigh. Tired of the groans and chuckling, you decided to come clean. “I’ve been running with you, or more like running behind you, these past couples months because I… Ithinkyou’rehot?”

     He narrows his eyes and leans down, closer, “Telling or asking?”

     You stare at him and you can really see his features now. His protruding cheekbones. His prominent jawline. His annoyingly clear skin. His soft jet black hair. “Definitely telling,” you blurt out. “But I never caught up with you-- obviously-- so I thought-- maybe-- if I--” Goddammit finish an actual sentence before the hot guy leaves. “If I finished your run with you before you go to the gym then maybe I can ask you out.”

     You bite your lips as you eye Damian Wayne and wait for your doom. Your friends are crossing their fingers but definitely invested in such a scene.

     Damian gives this little sigh and a small tilt of his head, as if saying ‘is that all?’ 

     “Yesterday I ran with my brothers at Gotham park. Tomorrow, finish my run with me on campus.” He pauses to look at you, making sure you’re still keeping up because you’re just gaping at him. You nod. “I’ll skip morning practice. We’ll walk to this small diner in the city. My oldest brother calls it ‘a hole in the wall’ because they make all kinds of breakfast foods.”

     You’re still gaping but your mouth has definitely opened wider. Impatiently, Damian uses his rough hands to close it. “Nod if you agree.” You nod. “Good. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne fanfiction #Damian Wayne imagine #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Behind the Bar

Summary: Tim and his date saw Jason behind the bar with his hands down the bartender’s pants. A spin-off of Under the Table. Notes: Damn I got wet just writing this so I hope you guys get drenched. Enjoy! Also hello, I’m back! For real. Genre: NSFW Words: 1,721

     Jason boomed in laughter, “‘So safe.’ I guess that describes your whole sexual relationship, huh?”

     Both Tim and his date flushed red and Bruce finally interfered, ending all conversation with one word, “Jason.”

     After Jason gets off the limo, Bruce quickly pulls him aside, “Jason, one second.” He groans internally, already sick of the lecture that’s about to come. “I know you love giving your brothers’ a hard time but we both know that when it comes to these social functions, it’s Tim who’s the best at the game.”

     Jason shoves his hands in his pant pockets and lazily looks at Bruce. He’s heard this one before and knows he’s about to admit that Tim’s even better than him.

     “Most of all, me.” Bingo.

     He sighs internally and decides to keep quiet, hoping to make the lecture a lot shorter. 

     “But I still expect you to be at your best behavior. Especially considering.”

     There was no breath trailing after Bruce’s last words but anyone would guess that it’s an open sentence. Bruce’s gaze wanders from Jason and into the crowd already inside. Jason cocks an eyebrow and waits.

     Bruce looks back at him, much sterner this time. “The guests tonight are particularly interesting so I’m asking you to refrain from any form of debauchery that will no doubt flood the media in the morning news.”

     Bruce leaves him there standing with raised eyebrows and a smirk slowly extended the side of his jaw. ‘Now, Brucey,’ he thought, ‘that’s definitely a sure-fire way to get me to do something quite newsworthy.’

     Grinning now, Jason enters the main hall and that’s when you spot him. Handsome, tall, and with looks that can take your pants off right off the bat. His eyes give the hall one sweep over and then suddenly he stops and turns his gaze back to the bar. To you.

     You blush immediately and grip the glass and cloth you��re holding. His eyes narrow and you watch him release one button on his blazer. It suddenly feels moist between your legs and you squeeze them together in desperation.

     A customer in front of you barks an order and you’re quickly brought back to your world. You apologize and quickly turn around to grab the bottles for their drink. In your peripherals, you see someone come into the booth from the side. You know it’s him and your breath hitches.

     “Oooh la la~ Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he teases.

     You desperately clench the growing desire between your legs and grab the bottles to turn back to the front of the bar. You ignore him and his grin grows bigger. He watches you make the drink with shaky hands and quickly he positions himself behind you. Chest pressed right up against your back.

     Before you could drop the bottles, Jason’s hands cover yours and he helps you grab onto them tightly. Everything happened so quickly that your whole body becomes loose and you stare at the customers in front of you, elites too busy talking among themselves that they don’t even notice the two of you.

     “You’re doing it all wrong,” the last word is whispered right up against your ear and you shiver, feeling your whole body quake against Jason’s strong frame, making his grin even wider.

     Gently Jason moves his hand with yours and helps you make the customer’s drink, the whole time pressing himself against you even more. “Here you are, my lady,” Jason announces to the woman at the bar.

     “Thanks– Oh my god, aren’t you Jason Todd-Wayne?” her voice brings everyone’s attention towards the two of you. You stiffen and try to move from his grasp but Jason plants his hands on the bar counter, trapping you and pressing against you harder.

     “The one and only,” he smiles and gives them a wink, making the woman and her friends giggle. It suddenly feels as if you are invisible and you’re glad.

     “What are you doing behind the counter, Mr. bad boy big shot?” 

     Jason hums while you feel his knee drive itself between your legs and forces them apart. You almost fall at the sudden movement but Jason holds your waist and steadies you. “Woah– you okay?” he asks in concern and you blush but you just want to punch him.

     He turns back to the ladies who are watching the two of you closely, “See I’ve met this bartender before and she got my drink wrong.” You clench your teeth. That was the first time you met, at the bar where you regularly worked. Jason was a customer. Then he was a regular one-nightstand. “So now I’m here for another drink.”

     “Aww, and you’re helping her. How sweet.” The giggles that followed has you rolling your eyes.

     This time, the hand on your waist travels to the front and slides into your pants. Jason knew you were going to react and he squeezes you against the counter. “I am sweet,” he says and turns to you, his mouth right up against your ear, “aren’t I?”

     You try to suppress the shiver but you really can’t and your body wracks against him, making him tense his muscles to keep the customers from seeing.

     The women at the bar giggle and tease each other about Jason while his fingers press against your clit through your underwear and down to the lips. “Shit,” he hisses quietly into your ear. “You’re fucking drenched, Y/N.”

     You whimper and it’s loud enough for one of the girls to cock an eyebrow at you. You turn to the side and see Jason flash her a smile. She blushes, smiles back, and turns back to her friends. Does she know? 

     You feel Jason’s fingers press hard against your underwear but his eyes travel to the side entrance of the counter. You follow his gaze and see a couple returning to the tables.

     You swallow, “W-was that your brother?” You recognize him from one of the posters of the event. This is, after all, a Wayne event.

“So it was. And it looks like he and his date saw us, too.” Jason is smirking and it makes you blush.

     “You… you want to be seen?” you ask shakily, unsure whether you want to know or if you’re excited.

     Jason turns to you and sees your face completely flushed. You’re breathing through your mouth, taking in short breaths at a time while your eyes are half-open. He moves his fingers up to rub against your clit and watches you tilt your chin up, your mouth opens wider, baring your teeth, and you try your hardest not to close your eyes.

     “You more than me,” he whispers.

     You gulp.

     Suddenly an announcement blares through the speakers, calling everyone into their seats. The girls at the counter stand up and one of them turns to Jason. “Aren’t you coming?”

     He smiles at them and waves with his free hand, “I still gotta get my drink.”

     Some of them wink at him before they saunter off towards the tables, leaving you alone with Jason Todd behind the bar with his hand down your pants and his knee inching your legs wider apart.

     As soon as the lights dim in the great hall and the only glaring light was on the stage, Jason takes his hands out of your pants, moves in front of you, and slowly crouches down.

     You try to grab at his arms to keep him up but he’s too strong, “Jason, what are you doing?” you ask in a panic.

     He squats down, his face in front of your crotch and his hands are already under your skirt and pulling down your panties all the way to your ankles, “Getting my drink.”

     He pulls your skirt over his head and the first thing you feel is his hot ragged breath blowing against your moist skin. There was a pause. “Y/N, you’re dripping down your legs.”

     You try to push your skirt down to cover yourself from Jason but he holds up one hand to block you. “J-Jason, what if someone sees us?”

     He pushes the skirt away from his head so you can see him under you, grinning. “Don’t worry. It’s time for Dick’s speech. No one will see.” Because that’s really the only concern you have, right? Somebody seeing Jason going down on you behind the bar counter. But just the thought of being caught makes you even wetter.

     Jason lets your skirt fall back over his head and he turns his attention back to his drink. You stand there trying to think of what was to come. You expect him to tease you with the tip of his tongue and lick your clit. But the first thing you feel is the width of his tongue flat against your wet pussy as he gulps down.

     Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You grip the edges of the counter and you feel yourself already losing balance. You press up harder against Jason as he steadies you which only increases the pressure of his tongue against you.

     Time slows and it’s excruciating. Jason’s tongue barely moves but you can still feel his breath after each gulp. Instinctively, you press your crotch against him, quickly earning you a snicker. His laugh against your sensitive skin feels funny but the small vibration also sets you off.

     To your greatest disappointment, Jason’s mouth moves away and his hands leave your hips to pull your panties from your ankles and back into place. He stands up in front of you and towers over you. He looks down at you and stares at you biting your lips and your eyes glaring. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. You can still see your wetness on the corners of his mouth.

     Slowly, he uses his finger to wipe one corner of his lips and then sucks on it. “Now that I’m done with my drink, how about you take a break?” He nudges his head to the side and you give a weak shake of your head.

     “S-someone needs to tend the bar…” you sounded unsure and Jason only grins.

     “Do you really want to stay here and do that or…” He lowers his head and whispers straight into your ear, “do you want me to fuck you senseless in the coatroom?”

#dc reader insert #dc fanfiction #dc imagine #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyshayyy

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter and Favorites

Notes: Oh hey an actual fic this time. I’ve been feeling under the weather for the past few days and DDWP part 11 is heavy on the heart so I can’t do it in one sitting. Is that a spoiler or a teaser? Anyway, here’s something light for now. Words: 2,085

     “Okay, but who’s your favorite?”

     They've been asking you this for a long time now. You’ve been expertly dodging their questions but even Damian has started to be persistent that you’re finding it harder and harder to just say, “I hate all of you, let’s start there.”

     “Jason.”

     Cass answers suddenly which catches the attention of the whole room. Jason stares at her as a growing blush slowly covers his whole face.

     “Wait.” Dick is visibly flabbergasted but more upset. He points a finger at Cass, “Is that Y/N’s answer or-“

     “Mine,” she answers with a smile.

     “Why?” Tim asks, sounding skeptical and a little outraged.

     Cass places a finger below her lips and looks up, listing things in her head for a moment. Jason is the easy choice for her. She knows that when death comes knocking for one of them, he won’t bat an eyelid to kill the harbinger. Cass needs that. She needs someone to do what she can’t do.

     There are other reasons, too, smaller ones. Like how Jason is a brute but he’s tender when he’s applying first aid on her wounds. How he quotes books she’s never read. How he sings while he cooks.

     “Because he’s the most handsome,” she teases and you’re already hating her for the chaos that ensues.

     If you think Dick was offended before, now he looks like Cass just stepped on his grave. “Lies,” he hisses.

     Cass snickers which eggs him even more. Tim’s frowning when looks to you, “I always thought I was her favorite…” he says trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

     “Tim,” you look at him with a straight gaze, “If I had a daughter, you’re the only one I would introduce her to.” Tim practically straightens his body in joy. You point your finger at him and wink, “So you better make sure you get her into an Ivy League.”

     Tim rolls his eyes and groans. 

     You chuckle. You weren’t lying though. Tim is the most dependable and responsible out of everyone in the manor. He’s not great at taking care of himself, God knows he goes days without sleeping and won’t notice until he passes out, but whenever he sees someone injured or just plain exhausted, he goes into full big brother mode.

     “I knew it! You just want me for my brains.”

     “At least you get Y/N’s daughter! Cass won’t even acknowledge that I’m the most fun and loving brother!” Dick quickly turns to Jason with the distaste of a childhood rival, “You’ve been quiet. You must feel so smug right now.”

     Jason pretends to inspect his cuticles, “What was that? I can’t hear you over all the handsomeness I’m emitting.”

     Someone tugs on your sleeve and you see Damian sitting next to you now. He half covers his mouth to whisper something to you, “I know I’m your favorite.”

     You twitch a little, “Really? How so?”

     “You always see me last before you leave.”

     Half true. Damian is the only one living at the manor full time so you always see him. He’s also still a child so you always have to check on him before you leave, making sure he’s still on the property and not out of the country without Bruce’s knowledge like that one time—

     “I also overheard you talking to Alfred.”

     Okay. Guilty. Whenever Alfred comes back early, he asks you how you are and you would always go into these rants about everything they did. You love them as much as you hate them but ever since you first met Damian, you’ve always had a soft spot for him, so everything he does is almost endearing to you.

     He was in the garden with the dog when Lucius first dropped you off at the manor. You watched this stern little kid try to talk the dog into sitting down, gesturing the proper movement for the action, and staring Titus down like a boarding school principal.

     But Titus did sit down and the wide and bright smile on Damian was too precious. He was beaming so hard that for a second there he lost his composure. You knew right then and there that this kid deserves more love than he can handle.

     You place your finger on your lips and whisper, “Don’t tell them.”

     “What’s this?” Jason calls out loudly, “Damian and Y/N are conspiring with each other.”

     “It’s none of your business, Todd.”

     “You’re bribing her, aren’t you?”

     “Jason, you already have Cass. Stop being so greedy,” Dick replies, obviously still wounded. 

     “Who’s your favorite?” Cass suddenly asks him. You almost want to hug her. Of course, the best way to nurse an emotionally hurting Dick Grayson is by giving him the upperhand.

     Dick is already grinning as his eyes sweep around the room. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

     “That’s why she asked, Dick,” Tim answers, almost bored of this topic.

     “We don’t wanna know,” Jason adds.

     “No. No. I’ll tell you.” He looks around, taking in the suspense that was slowly building. “It’s…” Dick takes his time looking at all of you.

     “Any day, Richard,” you mock.

     “You know what?” Dick crosses his arms and pretends to be hurt but the grin on his face is giving him away. “I don’t want to tell you.”

     Jason groans and Tim just rests his head on the back of the sofa. You and Cass smile because it’s such a typical Dick thing to do, and it finally got everyone off your back.

     “Have you all gone deaf?” Alfred pokes his head under the living room doorway. “I’ve been calling the lot of you for dinner for 5 minutes. Even master Bruce is already at the table.”

     “Bruce!” everyone simultaneously yells out. Cass and the boys leap over the couch to get to the dining room, surprising and angering Alfred as they pass him.

     “Goodness-- It’s like living with wild animals.”

     “I’ve been telling you that since my first day!” you whine as you walk to the dining room.

     Alfred grins at you, “We both know you’ve grown fond of them.”

     As you get closer, their riotous goating of Bruce got louder.

     “Come on, Bruce! You can’t not have a favorite!”

     “The moment you tell us it’s not Dick, then we’ll be happy.”

     “Stuff you, Jason. Just because you’re definitely not in the running doesn’t mean you can drag me down.”

     “You’re all wasting your breath. Of course, I’m his favorite. I’m his real son.”

     The room suddenly goes quiet. This was the worst time to enter. Cass, Tim, Jason, and Dick are staring at Damian, and then they roll their eyes and fill the room with a collective ‘oooh’.

     “Look at me! I’m Damian! I’m his son!” Jason sways his hips as he mocks.

     “Look, I have my father’s eyebrows,” teases Dick.

     “Being his son means he’s obligated to love you, you know.”

     “Shut up, Drake!”

     Bruce turns to you and you’ve never seen so many worry lines on the cool and collected millionaire until this moment. He’s practically begging you to help him. “Um,” you say out loud, trying to drown their voices, “Cass is definitely the best girl here!”

     They all turn to you. Alfred leaves you to sit at the table with the rest of them. Traitor you almost want to mutter. He gives you a look saying good luck because you’re digging your own grave.

     “I mean, isn’t she though?” You walk over to Cass and hug her from behind. “If you guys ever got caught, like really caught, and I mean like you can’t fight your way out, or your talk your way out, who would you call first?”

     The boys look at each other and think for a moment. Some of them nod and purse their lips. Cass holds onto your arms and turns to her side to kiss you on the cheek. You immediately smile and feel giddy that you lean your cheeks against each other. That was enough to calm everyone down because if anyone would dare ruin the moment none of them would be leaving the table alive.

     Dinner lasted longer than usual. You yawn as you walk to the door with Dick.

     “Want me to drop you off on my way to Bludhaven?”

     You nod quickly, “You’re an angel.” He chuckles but you quickly remember something. “One sec.”

     As soon as you go back into the house, Damian’s standing there. “You almost forgot me.”

     “I could never.” You lift Damian in your arms and carry him off to his room, an extraordinary milestone that took you a month to reach. 

     “You tired, Dami?” He’s nodding off against your shoulders but still manages to suppress a yawn. You enter his room and lay him down on his bed. “What are you doing tomorrow?” You always ask him. When Damian thinks about his plans for the next day, it seems to put him to sleep faster.

     He finally yawns, “I’m patrolling with father.”

     “And during the day?”

     “Training Goliath.”

     You flinch. You’ve seen Goliath and you vow to yourself to never go exploring in the caves again. “H-how fun…” you mutter. You brush his hair until he closes his eyes. “I’ll be back in two days, okay? Tell me about it then?”

     Damian lazily nods with his brows and turns to his side. You tuck in his blanket before you leave and head home.

     Eerily, the drive back to your apartment is quiet. You sneak a look at Dick and see a more serious expression on his face. You nudge him.

     “Hey! Driving here--”

     “Wanna know who Bruce’s favorite is?” you tease with half-lidded eyes.

     “Who is it?” you don’t answer so he takes a quick look at you and finds you raising your brows and smiling. He laughs, “No way!” then he stops, “Yes way? Are you serious?” You just smile at him and nod once. “I don’t believe you. How could you obtain such valuable information?”

     “When you take your suits off, you guys are a lot easier to read than you think.”

     “Gosh, Y/N. If you ever become a villain, you might just take over this town.”

     You shake your head at such a ridiculous notion. You hate crime-fighting and you hate crime even more. You suddenly punch Dick in the shoulder.

     “Ow!”

     “You better not tell your brothers!”

     He rubs his shoulders and looks at you, “Why would I? Is it true? Am I really Bruce’s favorite?” His grip on the wheels suddenly tightens and he looks like he’s ready to speed into the distance, “Jason is going to be so mad!” You shake your head and wonder how many hours you have to wait before you’re bombarded with group messages about this.

     “Oh hey, Y/N,” Dick pulls over outside your apartment building. “Guess who’s Alfred’s favorite?”

     Your attention is definitely piqued, “Who?”

     “I said guess.”

     “It’s not you, is it?” you narrow your eyes, suddenly feeling like this is just a narcissistic trap Dick has set up.

     He chuckles, “It used to be. But have you noticed how you get called to the manor even when he’s there?”

     You roll your eyes, “Have you met you? You guys are a serious handful!”

     Dick shakes his head, “No no. Listen. Alfred can handle us. He can handle us better than Bruce, let me tell you--” Dick pauses a little, “Alfred actually saw you at the office. You were scolding Lucius and when Bruce came to check on him as a backup, you scolded him, too.” Dick laughs.

     “Wait. What? What’s this? I don’t remember that. Come on, Dick. Stop laughing and tell the story properly!”

     “I don’t know,” he’s still laughing, “I forgot what it was about but Alfred was just impressed by how immune you were to their charms and how scared you made Bruce in a matter of seconds. Not an easy feat and you know that.”

     You narrow your eyes at Dick, “You’re the worst storyteller.” You unclasp your seatbelt and step out of the car. After walking around, you knock on the driver’s window and wait until he rolls down the window. “Thanks for the ride by the way.” 

     He salutes you. “Want me to pick you up in two days?”

     “No, I’m okay.”

     “Okay. I’ll pick you up.”

     Dick drives off before you can add another word. You glare at his sports car before you walk up to your building door. Before you even get the chance to slip your keys in, your phone vibrates in your pocket. “That little-”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#waynesitter #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #batfamily fanfiction #batfamily imagine #batfamily x reader #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Waynesitter Enforces Quarantine

✧ Unfortunately for you, you had overslept at the Wayne Manor when the mayor of Gotham announced a city-wide lockdown. You’lre officially stuck in the Manor for months.      “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll be paid during your stay here.”      “Mister Wayne, money’s not the issue here. It’s you and your kids.”

✧ Of course, when did vigilantes ever follow the rules?

✧ Now more than ever, everyone was sneaking out into the night to fight bad guys who are taking advantage of the dead streets and stockpiled houses. Every time they come home you make them line up and water them down with a high-pressure hose.     “Is this!” “Really!” “Necessary!”       “Dick, the more you open your mouth, the worst it’s gonna get.”

✧ You spend most of your mornings vigorously wiping down their costumes. This is the most dangerous job you’ve had so far because the gloves would sometimes eject sharp talons or the chest symbol will electrocute you.

✧ It’s also the most bizarre because you keep finding random things in their utility belts. Jason has hundreds of candy wrappers tucked away in each bag. Lemon flavored.

✧ Tim has receipts for coffee at different convenient stores. Some receipts have two cups or there are 5 receipts just from one night.

✧ Dick has different kinds of pieces of paper and tissues with numbers and names written on them. He chuckles that he forgot about them and just heaves them into the trash.

✧ Damian’s pockets are the cleanest. So clean that you find him always replenishing his stock. You stare at him and wonder if you wish he was actually using them all every night or stocking them up somewhere to be used on his brothers later.

✧ Cassandra’s... you stare at the picture you pull out from the smallest pouch. It’s a picture of everyone in the family, wrinkled and creased, folded several times over. It’s from the game night you had played months ago and Tim set up cameras to make sure no one cheated. You remind yourself to ask for a copy later.

✧ Bruce never lets you touch his suit. You argue that Alfred taught you how to clean it. No scent. But he doesn’t relent. So you give him the supplies and let him do it himself.

✧ But it’s Alfred who does it and you complain that you offered. That you know how. That you’re careful. It’s not like you’ve been injured this morning. Alfred smiles and asks for your assistance to start making breakfast instead.

✧ For the first time in a long time, it’s always a full house at meal times. It makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy seeing all of the empty chairs filled in and laughter hovering over the meal.

✧ Of course this also meant there’s a lot more shouting and fighting and food being flung over your heads. Or in your face, especially when Jason keeps using you as a shield against Tim’s asaults.     “God if you exist, please let this be over soon.”

✧ Things started to look serious when one of the thugs coughed in Tim’s face. Dick quickly offered an assist and wiped his face down, screaming for Tim to close his eyes and not breathe. While Bruce and Jason dropped the goon at the hospital for a test.

✧ You were all relieved to hear that the thug tested negative. But this struck a nerve in you and you put your foot down, along with Alfred and Cass’s support. No one was allowed outside anymore. Gotham be damned.

✧ You lock up everyone’s suits and sealed every exit you can think of. For good measure, Barbara talked you through bugging the boys and Bruce so you can see if they’re still within the compound.

✧ Tim was more than happy to comply. He doesn’t want another scare like that and he could use the time to catch up on some paperwork for his classes. He pines away in the study, grading papers.

✧ Dick whines a lot. No matter which room you’re in, you can hear his voice fake-crying about Bludhaven, the citizens, and the fresh air. You hear muffled sounds every now and then which means Jason has had enough and thrown a book at him. In the end, he joins Tim in the study to do some detective work.

✧ Jason’s always in there too. Calmly reading a book. It’s so strange to see. You always give him tea and some snacks and he chats with you about which part he’s on before going back to reading. You would scheme with Alfred to buy more books in the same genres or from the same authors because at this rate Jason’s going to run out books before the quarantine is over. And you don’t want to find out how cabin fever will look on him.

✧ Cass stays in the training room. Music blasting against the walls. She dances the days away. You would go in every other hour to make sure she’s hydrated and taking breaks. You also stay a while to watch because it’s so hypnotizing. Her moves are deadly and graceful.

✧ Damian spends half of his days locked in his room. Then when he gets sick of being alone, he follows you around the manor while you tend to his siblings and do chores around the place. He waits patiently, but not quietly, until you’re done. Then it’s time.

✧ The two of you would always make a fort in the living room and have a makeshift projector that displays the stars above you. You would lay there and compare stories of your childhood. Despite the gore and horror, you’re always amazed at how much he has done and survived. And he found yours odd.

✧ After spending all day in the cave monitoring and deploying his new bat drones (you snorted at the name) to fight crime in his stead, Bruce would join you in the fort. He would always say the password, making you and Damian snicker. He’d raise his eyebrows at the two of you before plopping down next to Damian and stargaze at your fake stars.

✧ An hour before dinner, the fort would be full and everyone is fighting for the chance to tell stories from their past, their childhood, and hints of secret plans lined up when the quarantine is over.

✧ Alfred promptly gets up to start making dinner and you leave to help him. You brace yourself before you call them into the dining room, for the worst part of the evening. “Are you ready for war, Y/N?”     “Never. Can’t we just eat in the fort? Everyone seems to be more calm when they’re lying on the floor and not looking at each other.”

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#Waynesitter #DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction #batfamily reader insert #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Dating Bruce Wayne

Notes: Sorry for these drabbles. I’m working on something long and big and has something to do with Jason and the soulmate link. So enjoy these fillers for a bit.

✧ Dating Bruce Wayne is definitely what it has been advertised to be. He lives like he has his own timezone. He flirts and charms everyone he meets, man or woman.

✧ Most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before Alfred would text you that Bruce can’t make it because he’s being held up. There are never any specifics as if you had no right to know.

✧ When he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. And you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.

✧ “I miss you,” is his hello and his bitter goodbye, holding your hand for too long while he makes the car service wait. It’s minutes before he lets go and closes your door. But when you look back in the moving car, he’s already gone.

✧ Bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. He loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. He always find a way to be close to you when you’re together.

✧ He doesn’t give you expensive gifts or take you out of the city or country impulsively. That part of the rumors and gossip is far from the truth. Everything he does is thoughtful and sincere. You have early dinners in cute little restaurants that feel like home. 

✧ You go hiking, rock climbing, rappelling, swimming, diving, and even skydiving. You’re convinced Bruce is definitely a daredevil. So you start running in the mornings and at night just to keep up.

     “You should be careful when you run at night. Kelley street can be dangerous on some nights. Why not stick to the main street?”

     Your eyes would widen, “How do you know I was there last night?”

     He’d grin and avoid your gaze, “I’m friends with Batman.”

✧ Never mind Bruce’s absence. What you really hate the most about dating this misunderstood billionaire is how often his life is in danger. He gets kidnapped twice a week, at least. By petty criminals, insane villains, and Batman himself.

✧ There was a time when Bruce had a welfare project for Arkham City that made him the target of every single villain so Batman had to kidnap Bruce himself and he was gone for weeks. When Batman finally returned him to his room, where you have been staying in his absence for your safety and sanity, you run up to snatch your man and punch Batman’s jaw. It hurt like hell and Bruce is quickly rubbing your knuckles.

     “Y-you! You stay away from him. It’s because of you that his life is always in danger and--”

     “Y/N,” Bruce holds you in his arms, tucking your head safe against his chest while you cry. When you turn back to the caped crusader, he’s already gone.

     “It’s not his fault.”

     “I know,”  you whisper.

✧ The next time you see Batman, you would stare at each for a while, wondering if you should apologize or say thank you. He holds up his hand and shakes his head with a smile before he disappears into the night. You were a little pissed that you didn’t even say anything and he just assumed things.

✧ One of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. Most of the time you see Alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.

✧ Whenever Bruce’s children are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them, too.

✧ What’s not to love? The eldest was the most proper gentleman and then a week after first meeting him, he turns into the cheekiest flirt that teases you and Bruce. You love to play along with him because it makes Bruce very uncomfortable.

     “So how’s his equipment these days? He’s getting old, might need to start baking in that oven soon.” Everyone around would spit out anything they’re drinking or just gape. Except for you.

     “Oh, the equipment is still in very good condition.” Dick laughs hard at that. “As for the oven… I think there’s enough of all of you to love for several lifetimes. Right, Bruce?”

     Bruce rolls his eyes with a smile as his children tease him and jump on him at the same time.

✧ You’ve never thought about having kids with Bruce because whenever you’re around his kids, it feels like they’re yours as well. Especially Damian.

✧ He would always tug on your clothes to get your attention (ever since he accidentally called you mom and his siblings never let him live it down).

     “You’re leaving now?”

     “Yeah, baby. I’m sorry,” you crouch down and hug him tight like a teddy bear, “but hey. When your dad goes away on business tomorrow, I’ll be staying here for a week. Does that sound good?”

      He hums and kisses you on the cheek before he walks back into the manor.

      You turn to Bruce, wide eyes, mouth open, and touching your cheek, “Did you just see that? He’s so precious.”

      Bruce nods his head and chuckles.

✧ Tim, Cass, and Jason were a different story. They were a lot more reserved and doesn’t really know how to talk to you first so you do it because you don’t want them to feel left out. You thought doing a puzzle with them was such a great idea. You thought wrong.

     “Tim, stay on your fucking side.”

     “It’s a puzzle, Jason.”

     “We’re supposed to be doing this together,” you instinctively say. Big mistake.

     Jason glares, “Who the fuck died and made you boss?”

     A slap rings loudly in the living room, making everyone gape at Bruce’s tall figure. You look between Jason and Bruce and then approach Jason. He quickly slaps your hand away and Bruce is tensing again. You quickly get up and hold Bruce in place until Jason leaves the room.

✧ You drag Bruce into the study and slap him hard. Your hand hurts but that doesn’t stop you from glaring and yelling at him.

     “How does it feel, Bruce? Do you feel shocked and embarrassed? That’s what Jason is feeling right now. He probably feels hurt too.” Bruce stays and avoids your gaze. “God! Jason didn’t even mean it. You know how he is, he’s just very expressive and there’s nothing wrong with that. But everything is wrong about hitting your child even if-- no. Especially if you say you did it for me.”

✧ You keep yelling at him and warning him not to hurt his children no matter their fault. Tim and Cass can hear you from the living room and look at each other with pained expressions. Jason hides in the hallway and listens to you berate Bruce, his hand on his cheek.

✧ When you get home from a stressful day at work and still no messages from Bruce after the fight days ago, you find three of his children on the floor trying to finish the puzzle. They greet you like it’s the most normal thing to come home to. You drop your things and quickly go to them, tugging them all into one hug until their faces are squished together and the puzzle pieces are in disarray.

    “I thought I would never get to see you again.”

    Jason rubs your back and you nuzzle your nose against his cheek.

    Tim laughs, “Are you kidding? Your slap pretty much made Bruce love you even more.”

    Cassandra snorts, “If that’s even possible.”

✧ Bruce is getting a little concerned at how violent you’re getting though. He thinks it might be his influence and you laugh so hard he pouts like a child.

     “You? I think it makes more sense to blame Batman. That freak just makes my blood boil and suddenly I have all this pent up rage and I don’t know where it came from.”

     Bruce blinks for a moment before he laughs, doubled over, clutching his stomach.

✧ Sometimes you’re sad when you see how Bruce acts around children. Whether it’s a charity event, Wayne orphanage visit, or just walking past them in the street, he always slows down and takes the time to converse with them. His eyes would widen as he listens to them talk and then his laugh would be the loudest.

✧ Sometimes you forget that Bruce Wayne isn’t just the playboy rich kid the media has pegged him to be. He was also just a child. A child who lost his parents too soon. Truly he’s a child of Gotham through and through.

✧ You would curl up against Bruce in the car and nuzzle your cheeks against his shoulder. He would smile but raise an eyebrow.

     “Something good happened today?”

     You shake your head, “Every day is good when I’m with you.”

✧ Things are getting way too serious and public between you and Bruce, and the day he has dreaded the most has finally come. You’re kidnapped and held for ransom for Bruce Wayne’s head.

✧ Bruce has prepared long and hard for this. It was part of the reason why he decided to date you seriously. Because he can handle this.

✧ You scream at him that he’s an idiot for coming to get you alone. He smiles and says he’s missed you. 

     You cry, “They’re going to kill you, Bruce.”

     He smiles, “They can try.”

✧ Of course, you mutter. He has backup. Batman saves you first and you’re already yelling at him for picking up the wrong person.

    “It’s Bruce they’re after!”

    Batman only groans and leaves you on the roof with Robin. He comes back with Bruce Wayne, suit slashed and hair disheveled, but no wounds. They leave you there while they clean up the thugs in the warehouse.

✧ “Bruce,” you call out to him in a low voice and it makes him panic, assessing where your injuries are. You hold his arms, “Marry me.”

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#DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne fanfiction #dating series #watchtower-feed #Acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Living with Tim Drake

Notes: I got request for Damian and SO moving in together (which I will get to some day). But then I kept thinking about Tim and how I haven’t shown him much love lately. So I wanted to do a little character study of him. Words: 1,818

     You didn’t expect a message so quickly. After all, you just posted the ad for a roommate an hour ago. You texted back saying you’re free to talk and your phone buzzes in your hand. You quickly answer, bracing yourself for what kind of freak is in need of a place to stay so urgently.

     “Hello. This is Tim. I’m a college graduate and currently doing an internship at Wayne. Your place is really close by so it’s perfect for my commute.”

     Wayne is a little more than 5 kilometers away from your place. Definitely a length you wouldn’t like to walk on a daily basis. Especially since your neighborhood isn’t the best. But hey, it still beats Crime Alley and Arkham, right?

     “Hi, Tim. This is Y/N. But you obviously already know that. So I’m going to do a quick background check before I send you my address. I mean, you understand, right?”

     “Oh, definitely,” he answers right away but you could almost hear his nerves. He goes quiet for a bit and then you hear a notification that someone just sent you a message. “I don’t really have any social media accounts or anything--” You’re suspicious already. “But I am in the Gotham Gazette a lot.”

     “What?” you instinctively say. Not thinking. Ignoring the image of the screenshot he sent you. “What did you say your last name was?” You’re already flipping open your laptop and opening the Gazette website.

     “Drake. Wayne. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne.”

     When he shows up at your door with a single duffle bag that wouldn’t even fit all of your pants, you greet him with a raised brow. “You know, I really thought this was going to be some sort of practical joke but you are him.”

     He laughs nervously, “Yeah… Living with that nightmare every day.”

     You stare him from inside your apartment before you laugh and let him in. You lounge over the kitchen counter and offer him some coffee. His eyes instantly brighten up at the caffeine rush.

     “This is really good.”

     “Yeah? I work at a cafe nearby and it turns out I like making coffee.”

     He looks at your set up behind him, a small commercial espresso machine with an extract bar with two spouts and a steam nozzle to warm up the milk, and a coffee grinder filled to the brim with whole coffee beans.

     He looks back at you quickly. “Please let me live here,” he blurts out with full conviction. It stuns you and then you laugh. “I’ll pay double your asking price.”

     You stop laughing then. “Deal.”

     Tim settles in quickly in your apartment since he doesn’t have too many things. A week’s worth of clothes, his laptop, two pairs of shoes, and some toiletries. 

     You had a roommate before him but she just disappeared half a year ago. You called her family and it turns out that she ran off with a lover. You thought she would be back in a month’s time but 6 months have gone by and her advance payments are about to run out.

     Needless to say, Timothy Drake-Wayne is now sleeping in a pastel purple bedroom littered with motivation posters and 30-Day challenge workouts.

     “You can take them down, you know.”

     Tim shrugs, “I kind of like them. They help me get up in the morning.”

     You roll your eyes.“Yeah sure.” Tim is not a morning person. He only thinks he is. He’ll wake up past noon. Then when you get home, he’ll greet you good morning even when it’s dark outside.

     “Is that a cut?”

     Without thinking about it, your hand reaches out to brush back his bangs and look at what is actually a gash on his forehead. “Tim, it’s still bleeding. Wash it!!”

     Before he could reply, you go to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. You start fussing over the antiseptic, cotton, and gauze while he’s just staring at you. “Tim, wash it under the sink,” you repeat.

     A little dazed, Tim finally gets up and goes to the sink. You wait for him to finish, with a towel ready to dry his face. As soon as he’s done, you start dabbing the antiseptic on his forehead.

     “Hey. That doesn’t hurt.”

     You make a grim face, a look of disgust really. “Is that why you didn’t treat it? Because you’re afraid it’ll hurt.”

     He laughs, “No no. It’s just-- Usually when Alfred does this, it stings.”

     There are so many things you want to say to that. Who’s Alfred? Why don’t you tend to your own wounds? What happened? But instead, you say, “Do you often get into fights at Wayne or something? I always thought the people there are either frail-bodied nerds or millionaires too afraid to mess up their cuticles.”

     Tim laughs a little louder, “Why does it have to be at Wayne? I could have gotten this while saving children from a human trafficking ring down by the docks.” He raises an eyebrow at you.

     You narrow your eyes, unamused, “What a coincidence. After work, I just put the Joker back in Arkham Asylum.”

     He shakes his laughter, making it harder for you to put the gauze on. So you grab his chin to keep him steady and then expertly placed it on his gash with one hand. His eyes follow your hands, making him appear cross-eyed and you almost laugh. Then his eyes widen.

     “Wait a minute. Did you just get off work? It’s almost 6? PM?”

     You roll your eyes but you don’t really meddle with his sleeping schedule. He usually leaves the apartment when the sun is coming down and you never hear him come in. But you just assume his internship at Wayne is at night. 

     You wonder if he gets paid for it because he comes in 7 days a week, every night and sometimes even in the afternoon (or god forbid in the morning). But he doesn’t really need the money so maybe it’s a family obligation thing?

     Sometimes though, like once or twice a month, he gets a day off. He’ll sit with you on the couch while you drink the mochas you made and binge-watch NCIS.

     “You know…” you say one day, hugging your mug to yourself. “You never did tell me why you chose to live here.”

     “I did, didn’t I? It’s close to Wayne--”

     “Bullshit,” you call out. “I get that you bike to work so it’s an easy commute but you own part of Wayne. I know you can get a driver to get you there or work from home or not work at all if you wanted to.”

     Tim looks at you for a moment before he goes quiet. He’s staring into his mug and lightly shaking it to watch the liquid move around inside.

     You suddenly want to slap yourself, “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to know--”

     “No, it’s okay,” he says, smiling. He places the mug on the coffee table. He grabs the remote to lower the volume down and then hunches with his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the screen.

     “It was just good timing when I saw your post. It was getting a little crowded at the manor.”

     You keep looking at him and wonder if you should stop him. This almost looks painful for him but Tim keeps going.

     “When I first got there, I was the only one there. Dick has his own place. Jason was--” he shrugs, “It was just me, Bruce, and Alfred.” Alfred, you now know, was actually their butler, but Tim talks about him more like a parent, to both him and Bruce Wayne.

     “It was great. Mostly quiet. Peaceful. And then like a hurricane, all of them just came, one by one. Dick, Jason, and then Damian. It was a nightmare. We were at each other’s throat. Literally!” he’s staring wide-eyed at you, half-hoping you’ll know he’s telling you the truth. “And I couldn’t get a single good night’s sleep. I just-- I needed my own place. Away from them.”

     Tim releases this long sigh, one that feels like he’s been keeping for a while. “When it was just me, Bruce, and Alfred, I never noticed it because I was too self-absorbed-- about the adoption and the--” he looks at you like a deer caught in the headlights then coughs and continues, “I didn’t notice that they weren’t as happy as I was. That they were in silent mourning.”

     “So when my brothers were at the manor, Bruce and Alfred-- They were shocked but I’ve never seen them look happier. It was so small, almost barely a hint of a smile. And I just--” He sighs again, this time leaning back to rest his head against the couch. “So I feel a little guilty about leaving.”

     You wait in case Tim had more things to get off his chest. This is the first you’ve heard him talk in broken sentences. He’s usually a lot more composed that his sentences are always grammatically correct, full-structured, and well-phrased. Like listening to an essay.

     When he doesn’t say anything more, you ask, “Do you regret leaving?”

     Tim Drake stares at the ceiling. He visits the manor every now and then but not much has changed. They’re still fighting a lot, with less intent to kill, but still enough to seriously maim. But really he misses seeing Alfred every day, helping him in the garden and eating his home cooking. 

     And Bruce. He wonders if Bruce is doing fine. If he’s happy Jason is back or proud to finally have his own son fighting side by side with him. He hopes Bruce’s is a little upset he left. He wishes he’d mourn for him a little like he did with Dick and Jason.

     But is he happy? Tim was feeling overwhelmed by the past that his brothers brought back with them. So much pain, regrets, and hatred. He never knew families could be so complicated. One minute they wanted to murder each other and the next they’re risking their own lives to save you. ‘Do I regret it?’ he wonders. ‘Do I regret doing what Dick and Jason have done, leaving the nest-- the cave and the Titans-- to find my own way of life? My own path?’ 

     ‘Not one bit.‘

     Then he turns to you with every intention of saying just that. He looks at you while you hold your white Superman mug in your hand, your lips hovering over the rim and the steam rises up to your face. He watches the light smoke dance as your breath goes in and out.

     Your eyes are staring at him with your hair hanging down, framing your face. He watches your cheeks slowly go red and your eyes widen. You look away, missing the same shade of red covering Tim’s cheeks.

     “Crap.”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧  

#DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #Tim Drake #Tim Drake fanfiction #Tim Drake imagine #Tim Drake x reader #Timothy Drake #Timothy Drake fanfiction #Timothy Drake imagine #Timothy Drake x reader #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

“Happy Death Day”

     “What the fuck is this?”

     Jason and his siblings are standing around the table, staring down at the cake delievered to him. It’s rectangular and covered in lots of white frosting along with its customized message.

    “Is it...” Tim mumbles, “a holiday?”

    “Fuck should I know.”

    Cass and Dick glare at the cake for the longest time before they notice each other. They stare with wide eyes and give each other hesitant head shakes. They know what it is but neither wants to mention it. Especially if Jason really doesn’t know.

    “Oh,” Bruce walks in and sees the cake, “It’s April 27 already?”

    They facepalm as Jason and Tim narrow their eyes at the cake, wondering if they’re all reading the same thing.

    Then something clicks in Jason’s head and jumps from his seat, pointing a finger at Bruce. “How... how do you know that?”

   Bruce raises his eyebrow at Jason, “Why wouldn’t I know the anniversary of your death? I was there, Jason.” Tim finally gets it, eyes widening, but quickly narrows his eyes at the cake. Bruce turns to Dick. “But this joke is in bad taste, Dick.”

     “Me?”

     “Yes, master Dick,” Alfred chimes in as he walks in with a tray of plates and cutlery, “This isn’t really something one should celebrate.”

     “Then why are you bringing those in!” Jason bellows.

     “We can’t simply throw it in the garbage. Such a waste of good patisserie.”

    “Wait. Wait. Hold on,” Dick cuts in, standing up. “I didn’t do this.” They stare at Dick for the longest time who’s eyes widen. “Seriously. It wasn’t me.”

     Then they turn to Tim. “Woah. I don’t have the time to pull something like this.” 

      No one turns to Cass but they do look at Jason. “Fucking kidding me? Prank myself so I can prank all of you?”

      That’s when it finally dawns on them that the cake has to go. It was Alfred who acts first and slowly stabs the cake in the middle, feeling for anything inside. The soft sound of metal rings in the room. Slowly Alfred carves away at the cake until they can all see the unmistakable figure of a crowbar.

     “Fucking--”

     Meanwhile, in the middle of Gotham city, in the bakery where you work, the delivery van driver comes back and let’s you check the list. After you’re done, you turn to the boy sitting on your counter who has been happily eating away at his lemon tart since you finished the cake.

     “Shouldn’t you be at the manor? Oh, I don’t know-- wanting to see their reactions?” you ask him.

     Damian Wayne chews leisurely at the desert, “I already know how they’ll react. They’ll blame Dick.”

    You walk around until you’re back behind the counter and putting your apron on. “Wouldn’t they blame you since you’re not there?”

    He grins and licks off a piece of tart on the corner of his lip, “Exactly.”

   You shake your head. Damian Wayne and his brothers have been frequent customers of the bakery so when he asked what Jason’s favorite type of cake was, you happily answered and agreed to make a surprise present for his older brother.

    Then he asks you to put an actual metal crowbar inside it, saying it’s an inside joke. Damian wanted to do the honor of writing the greeting himself.

    His phone lights up and starts vibrating on the counter. He grins at the caller ID and then ignores it. “Am I going to get arrested for this?” you ask as you rest your elbows on the counter next to him.

    “You won’t,” he replies as he finishes the tart. “I wonder if Jason will know it’s tangerine chocolate. I hope he tastes it even after he sees the crowbar.” He chuckles.

    “What did your brother ever do to you?” you tease while sighing, wondering what Wayne sibling squabbles are like.

#HAPPY DEATH DAY JASON #April 27 #Jason Todd #Red Hood #DC imagines #DC fanfiction #DC reader insert #Jason Todd fanfiction #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem

[watchtower-feed]

Breaking and Entering

Notes: I had this idea on a whim and since I haven’t written for Death Do We Part. I have ten drafts with only like five sentences each. Words: 706

      “Hello, 911? Yes, I would like to report an intruder inside my home!”

      “I’m not an intruder,” he chuckles, “I’m Nigthwing!”

      You had just moved to Bludhaven a couple days ago. You have no idea what a Nightwing is.

      You were making a list of things you still need to buy for the apartment. The only things you’ve managed to take with you are a thin mattress, a cooler, a microwave, and a lamp.

      You  were wearing these amazing headphones you just bought which thankfully drowned out the noise of the city. Unfortunately, it also masked the hurried foosteps of people going down the fire escape.

      And your window being shimmied open.

      You saw him the moment he closed the window, his back turned to you. Fishing out your phone, you already had your pepper spray aimed in his direction. He turned the moment he heard the ringing.

      “Hang up the phone,” he says gently while taking a step toward you with his arms raised. “Please?”

      “Hello? Does the intruder have a weapon?”

      You stare at the masked vigilante and look him up and down. He speaks before you can. “Kind of in a bind here.”

       Before you could wonder what he meant, your phone gets cut off and there are no more bars on it. “What the hell?”

      “Shhh!”

      This Nightwing presses himself against the wall beside the window and motions for you to hide. When you hear people running up the stairs of the metal fire escape, you crouch low and hide behind the table.

      “Are you sure he’s up there?”

      “We didn’t see him down there so where else could he be?”

      “I swear, Fred, if he’s not up there and you made me go up these stairs---”

      “Don’t call me by my real name. Are you stupid? Call me Hawkfire.”

      You quickly raise your eyebrows and look at this Nightwing who’s pursing his lips but the corners are lifted up in a cheeky smile.

      “Hawkfire? What kind of fucking code name is that?”

      “Hawkgirl and Starfire, obviously! They’re the best pair.”

      Nightwing raises both his hands to cover his mouth and even with the mask on you could see his eyes are wide.

      You both hear a loud smack on skin. “Are you really a criminal? You should be picking codenames likes Ivyquin or... Luthvage.”

      “Luthvage?”

      “Just shut up! Let’s just knock in some windows until we find the stinking bat.”

       You narrow your eyes at this Nightwing who’s still clutching his stomach and forcing his mouth shut. “I don’t really get it but if I think this is the time for you to get out there?”

      “Give me,” he wheezes, “Okay. I’m good.”

      “Please take the fight outside,” you quickly plead.

      “Will do, citizen.” He salutes you before he slowly opens your window and steps outside. He closes it again and pulls himself up to the second landing before he yells out, “Hey Hawkfire! Luthvage! Looking for me?”

       You hear him chuckle as a scuffle continues overhead. You sit down on the floor and go through what just happened. This is your first time meeting a hero, having grown up in a relatively peaceful neighborhood that was too boring for any vigilante to be stationed at.

      While picking up your list and calling a night, there’s a knock on your window and you see the same guy in his black and blue-streaked costume. You walk over and open the window.

      “Bad guys taken care of and not a single window broken.”

      “Yeah, just broken into.”

      He chuckles and suddenly you’ve gotten attached to it. You smile and move aside, “Want some coffee on your way to your next crackdown or whatever?”

      He raises an eyebrow at you, “Who drinks coffee at this hour?”

      You narrow your eyes, shocked he’s judging you, “Who picks fights at this ungodly hour?”

      He laughs, louder than before, “Welcome to Bludhaven. Come for the weather. Stay for the nightly activities.”

      You mock a groan, “I knew I should have moved to Star City.” 

      He grimaces, “Yeah, if you like whiplash twice a day. Plus, their villains are a lot more intense than ours. Trust me, you’re going to miss guys like Luthvage and Hawkfire.”

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #Nightwing fanfiction #Nightwing imagine #Nightwing x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #Dick Grayson fanfiction #Dick Grayson x reader #watchtower-feed #acropen #lexyartem #nonrequested