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reallyromealone · 2 months

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Title: free days

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x male reader

Fandom: batman

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, omega male reader, fluff, no heroes au, bat children are children, implied that they are (name)s bio kids

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

It was the ideal.

Giant alpha with a brooding expression and cold demeanour and peppy Omega who had enough conversation of six people, Bruce reading the morning paper as (name) enjoyed his breakfast sleepily in one of Bruce's shirts and a pair of boxers, both periodically taking sips of their drinks; Bruce a hot cup of black coffee and (name) a cup of (drink). "The zoo's snow leopards had cubs" Bruce mentioned casually, following the family "no bad news till after ten am" rule, (name) humming as he glanced to see the photo of the tiny cub "we should take the pups to see it" (name) mentioned, the Wayne family having donated a few million to help the conservation efforts the zoo was focused on.

"We can make arrangements, my darling" Bruce said to the other who beamed sleepily to his mate, Bruce feeling his heart warm at this.

The pups slowly piled in one by one, the smaller less formal dining area filled with sleepy littles, tweens and teens "Cassandra, stop stealing your brother's bacon" (name) said calmly as he stared off slightly, finally waking up a bit more as the pups ate their breakfast and Damian tried to copy how bruce are clumsily, the toddler absolutely fixated on Bruce these days "your lunches are on the counter in the kitchen, Dick remember that you are going to be accompanying your father today after school, Jason you are going out with your friends yes? I want you back home by 9:45--""ten?" "Get a good score on that test today and I'll consider it" "deal"

(Name) gave his kids their iteneraries as everyone ate and got ready for the day, little Damien and Helana letting their parents carry them to the nursery to be dressed for the day "alrighty little doves, let's get you in your outfits!" (Name) said to the two toddlers who let their parents dress them in clothes that they weren't worried would get messy, Damien in an adorable pair of shorts and a little shirt with a dog on it and Helena in a skort and a shirt that had Carmen Sandiego on it "you two ready?"

Today was their first class in martial arts, something all the children took as Bruce was consistently worried for their safety "they need to be able to defend themselves, what if we aren't there?!" He fretted behind closed doors, Damien looking excited and Helena bouncing as they and the rest of the family went to driveway "Tim, Jason behave or you drive with Alfred" and Alfred didn't get McDonald's before class, the two immediately stopping their nonsense as they followed Dick to his car and the others into the main family car, a town limo where the driver was ready for them. (Name) was thankful Damien kept his shoes on, sitting in his car seat separated from his sister with Cass between them "mama!" He yelled seriously "what is it dames?" "Oweo?" He asked almost confused and (name) tried not to laugh at the boys question "we can get Oreos after your lesson, yes"

Toddler martial arts was mainly just getting the little ones used to it, very clumsy and often times the little ones were more interested in their own feet than actually doing the lesson but it was a start "remember when dick was this little? He would only do anything if you held his hand?" (Name) said as they watched from the glass, little Damien and Helena practicing listening with the instructor and even learning the absolute basic stances, both excited to make noises and give wobbly little stances.

Bruce was happy when he could make time for his family, the tots passed out in their arms as they went to the limo "I'll be going to the office, prepare for the shadowing" Bruce gently kissed (name)s forehead and then lips as they smiled at one another "good luck" and with that they parted.

When night came, (name) was in bed reading a book when Bruce came in "how did it go?" (Name) asked as he blatantly watched Bruce undress into his boxers "it went well, he has been preparing for this since he was 11" Bruce walked to the bed and got in, moving (name) so he layed his chest against Bruce's as they smiled fondly at one another and gently kissed, (name)s hands gently holding into Bruce's sharp jaw as they enjoyed their time alone.

"I think I want another pup"

"Darling we have six children already"

"But baby?"

"Darling, the youngest two are just getting out of potty training"

"Fine" (name) playfully pouted as they cuddled, anyone outside the family would be intimidated by Bruce, though for his mate he was putty.

They weren't the perfect ideal of an alpha and omega but they were their ideal and that's all that mattered.

#batman x male reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

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battymommastuff · 1 year

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A Mother's Rage (GRAPHIC)

Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: You became the one person that the Joker would never forget...

Inspiration

You couldn't remember what happened...

It all felt like a haze of blood...and the sound of metal hitting someone's skull....

The maniacal laughter filling your ears...

The feeling of your husband pulling you away from the man you were going to kill...

What you remember was Batman, your husband bringing in the dead body of your second son. Jason Todd. The little boy that had filled the hole Dick left. The Golden Son was next to you when you saw the body Bruce had been carrying. The scream that left your mouth would haunt Bruce, Alfred, and Dick's mind until the day they died.

You remember walking to the cold metal table that Jason's body was put on. You remember cradling his lifeless face while begging for him to make a sound. Looking into his cold, dead eyes that Bruce hadn't had the strength to close. You removed the mask that protected your identity from the world and rested your forehead against Jason's while sobbing. Dick could only stand next to you and comfort you as you screamed, and pleaded for Jason to come back.

You remember the soul destroying sadness in your heart turning into a murderous rage. Dick looked over to you as your sobs suddenly ceased. He watched as your head slowly lifted from Jason's and a look of darkness was on your face.

Bruce remembers that look as he was across from you. You were looking right at him...hoping that he had the same feeling in his heart as you did...but he didn't. Bruce knew something in you was awakening. A side of you that he once had when he was younger...the inner monster in us all...

The Joker remembers that night...all too well. He remembers boasting to Batman about murdering the Robin...the boy wonder was dead. Beaten to death with a crowbar. The same crowbar that he had proudly on display for everyone in Amusement Mile to see.

The Joker's men remember a shadow moving through the darkness. The remember being nervous for second then terrified a second later...then finding themselves nearly beaten to death as Batman's longest sidekick rampaged through Amusement Mile. She was so fast and brutal that they didn't get the chance to apply pressure to the triggers on their guns before their arms were bent backwards and snapped in half.

The Joker remembers watching her walk into his lair. Blood covering her mask, and suit. A batarang clenched tightly in her hand that she tossed to the side. He didn't get a word out before a fist connected with his face. The Joker could only laugh as she delivered blow after blow to his face. On the other side of the city your husband and son were racing to get to you.

The last thing you remember was watching The Joker laugh under you. Clutching his stomach as if you told him the funniest joke ever created. It filled you with an entirely new rage. You were going to kill him. The Joker would die tonight. Your eyes drifted up to the crowbar covering in your son's blood. It was sitting there as if it were a museum piece. That's when you blacked out.

That's when you could hear the sounds of metal hitting someone skull. The sound of blood and coughing starting to cover the sound of laughter. You weren't going to stop...you were going to kill him. He took someone from you...a debt needed to be paid.

Those who remember what happened that night would say that The Joker was lucky. Before You could deliver the fatal blow, Batman pulled you away from him. That's when you came back to reality. At one point, you'd abandoned the crowbar and went back to beating him with your fists. Nightwing was hovering over the Joker's body to see if he was still alive. Apart of him was glad to see the sight before him. The Joker deserved every minute of this.

It was then that he knew the depths his adoptive mother would go for her children. A depth that he wasn't sure Bruce would ever touch. He's seen the brutality that Bruce could get to, but this was different.

This became a night that everyone would remember...

#batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader #red hood #robin #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x batmom #tim drake x reader #batmom imagines #dick grayson #dc comics #dick grayson x batmom #nightwing #batmom x batfam #batmom

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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Alfred's Boy Part 4

"Master Bruce, would it be alright if I had someone over?" Danny's soft voice breaks the chatter around the table. Bruce is honestly surprised to hear the boy speak up without prompting. It takes him a moment to answer how unexpecting the request is.

The boy seems to think his silence is an answer, for he ducks his head and brings up his shoulders. "Nevermind. It was stupid. I'll tell Clockwork to forget it."

"No. No. This is your house as well, Danny. You can invite any of your friends. I'm just surprised Clockwork would allow you to contact guests from your old home." Bruce assures. His eyes flicker to the rest of the table, showing how everyone is focused on their own plates, but all conversation has died.

He is sure half of his children are attempting to develop super hearing with how much they are straining to eavesdrop.

"He's not really a friend, per se." Danny pushes some of his food to one side of his plate. It's a nervous habit Bruce had realized he does when speaking of his old home. Not just food but anything he can fiddle with, as Danny seems unable to hold still when nervous. "Wes and I have....a history, you can say. Clockwork said that he was allowed to visit because he knew what was happening but wasn't too involved with the situation. Not like Sam and Tucker, my best friends, or my sister Jazz. "

A history? Oh no, was this "Wes" an ex?

Bruce looks again at his youngest and fights a wince at Damian's dark sneer as the boy stabs his broccoli. Please let Wes just be anything but an ex. He doesn't want to follow the other kid around to make sure he doesn't have to fight off his children from bringing him harm.

Dick speaks up, likely thinking along the same lines. "I'm glad you can still have someone to see you! When will he be here? Will he be alright with Gotham's....everything?"

A smile is fighting at the corner of Danny's lips, and Bruce swears he can hear his children's hearts shatter as the boy flushes slightly. "Trust me, Wes can handle a lot. Clockwork said he would let Alfred know the details if Master Bruce agreed."

The butler pulls out an old-looking pocket watch. After checking the time, Alfred snaps it close with an impassive smile. "Clockwork will have the boy here in three days. I believe Danny will have a few days off then to enjoy his company?"

It's not really a request, but Bruce still nods. "Of course."

Danny's entire face lights up. It's the most joy he's seen on the boy's face since his arrival. "Thank you, Master Bruce. Thank you, Alfred. Can you please excuse me? I want to prepare his room."

"Of course, dear boy," Alfred nods his head. Danny is gone in a flash, a secret smile pulling at his lips. He waits a few seconds, so Danny's footsteps can fade away before leveling a stern stare at everyone at the table.

Bruce straightens his back out of reflex when that all-knowing stare passes over him. He barely contains a sigh of relief when Alfred slightly lingers on him to transfer his gaze to Damian.

He feels terrible for his son but cannot step between the butler and him. Damian will have to fight this battle on his own.

"I trust everyone here will not give Danny or his guest any grief during his break." It's not a question. It's a camond. Everyone shivers slightly out of fear.

"No."

"You don't have to worry about me"

"I have some stuff to do."

"Of course not Alfred."

Alfred doesn't precisely threaten them, but he does make his eyes a little darker "Danny's guest will not find shadows following him."

A few of his kids look heartbroken, while Jason has an expression of manic glee blooming on his face.

The following night, Danny is asking for ideas on where to take Wes on his tour. Apparently, both are from a small town and are used to having fewer options for entertainment.

"Kids usually either went to the mall or the local burger place. The mall wasn't even that big too, so after a while it got boring" Danny admits.

"You have to take him to Batburger," Jason tells Danny. Bruce fights the urge to leap over the table and punch his child. Jason knows that Danny hadn't gone to the restaurant so a lot of his siblings had been dreaming of taking the boy on a date there.

He's just rubbing salt in the wounds at this point.

"I think I will. I'll take him to museums too. Wes loves history." Danny writes some ideas down in a little notebook. He's taken to carrying it around, brainstorming a perfect weekend there.

Bruce had glanced at it earlier that day, when Danny had been busy cleaning and had read, "Make out point- Dick said the stars are the clearest there."

He almost had a heart attack. For all that Danny was Alfred's boy, Bruce still felt very protective of Danny like his own. He did not want his somewhat son to be going to any place with the name make out point.

No one speaks after that- primarily due to his younger children trying to shift their sobs and the older ones trying to comfort them without letting Danny notice.

Eventually, Cullen gets up from the table, excusing himself with a half-baked excuse of needing to do homework, and Harper chases after him. The two are followed by Tim- whose eyes are glossy- Steph, who looks to be biting her lip. Duke, whose hands are curled into fists, and Damian, who stomps out like a bull about to charge.

Bruce leaps to his feet but is stopped by Dick, who pats his shoulder. "I got this."

"The plot thickens," Jason says before he, too, goes after his siblings. For all his teasing, his second oldest adores his brothers and sisters, so he'll be there in their time of need.

"Is something...wrong?" Danny asks after a moment of hesitation. "I can tell Clockwork and Wes not to do the visit."

"No. You have Wes over. We talk." Cass tells him, giving the boy a wink as she, too, steps away. "Tonight, all ice cream."

"Yes." Alfred sighs. "I do believe that would be best. A frozen treat to soothe the pain of heartbreak. I'll bring up the tubs for everyone in a moment."

Bruce fights the urge to bury his face in his hands as Danny spring to his feet offering to help with the ice cream, unaware he is the cause for the comfort food.

Despite the apparent tension in the manor, the promised weekend does arrive. Danny is beside himself with excitement. He's not wearing a suit for once- he's gotten to copying Alfred in a misguided attempt at a butler uniform- and is wearing street clothes.

Besides, when the first day, Bruce has never seen Danny in street clothes. He's surprised that Danny dresses like a punk rocker- complete with a black leather jacket, big combat boots, and various chains.

He looks like the type of person fathers warn their daughters away from. Bruce hates how that only makes more of his children bestowed.

Danny had given everyone a happy smile when Bruce handed him the keys to one of his sports cars- he saw no reason why Wes and Danny should take a bus to the airport when he had plenty of vehicles to lend him. Alfred had allowed the boy to go alone since Danny needed to go through a particular gate for Wes.

Apparently, Clockwork would be sending Wes on a private plane. It burned not to know who Clockwork was or what he did, but Bruce fought the urge to snoop to get Alfred to stop glaring at him.

"I bet you he's not even that great," Tim grumbles, stuffing a chocolate cookie into his mouth. "Bet you he's ugly."

"With buck teeth" Steph adds stealing her own cookie.

"He likely never even seen a sword," Damian spits.

"Come on guys, I know it sucks, but we can't just dis on Wes 'cause Danny likes him," Duke says though it's not very convincing, seeing as he dropped over the couch in a depressive slouch.

"Why are all the good gays taken?" Cullen sighs, ignoring the meta.

Bruce opens his mouth to offer some comfort or maybe lecture them, but the front door opens before he gets a chance. Everyone sits up only to slump down as Dick strolls in with a cheerful smile. They all glare at him, which makes Dick flauter in his steps for only a second.

"They're waiting for Danny," Bruce tells him. Dicks smile regains his cheer as the oldest throws himself on the couch.

"He's outside with his guest. Lovely guy."

"Is he ugly?" Tim asks hopefully. His dreams are dashed as Dick shakes his head.

"He could be a supermodel."

"Of course, he can."

Jason snorts from behind a book. Bruce knows he is not reading it, simply by the fact he hasn't turned a page in the last ten minutes- his son speed reads whenever he adores a book- and is likely enjoying the show.

The door opens again, this time accompanied by two sets of laughter. An unfamiliar voice wheezes "-Dash then reads out love poems he wrote about Phantom!

"No!" Danny gasps. "Not Dash Baxter. What did the other A-listers do in retaliation?"

"Nothing that's the crazy part. They had poems too!"

The two voices are carrying, so Bruce has a few seconds to prepare himself. So do his kids, who all sit up at attention, a few with not as welcoming expressions as he would like. The voices round the corner, and Bruce looks at Wes first.

Dick was right. He's a handsome young man with ginger hair and flickers of freckles. He is dressed similarly to Danny, but a little less black and slightly more burnt orange to add color to his punk look. A worn-out backpack is swung over his shoulder while the same arm is tugging along a suitcase behind him.

Wes is also holding Danny's hand with a free hand.

Damian makes a slightly wounded sound that digs a dagger into Bruce's heart. His baby's first heartbreak.

Danny looks surprised to see them all, seeing as the family usually prepares to go out as the Bats at this time- but he smiles widely after a moment. "Everyone I like you to meet Wesley Weston. Wes, this is my boss, Bruce Wayne, and his kids, Dick Grayson-wayne, Jason Todd-Wayne, Casandra Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane, Stephine Brown, Damian Wayne, Cullen Row, and Harper Row."

Wes smiles at them, waving the hand he has interlocked with Danny. Bruce winces as most of his kids give half-hearted greetings. Thankfully Alfred is in the kitchen and misses their terrible manners.

Wes pauses and squits at the youngest of the house before he sighs. "Of course, it happens in this dimension too."

"What?" Danny asks confused

"Danny and I aren't dating," Wes tells the room, ignoring the startled boy he's launched onto. "Danny just needs to have physical contact for his mental health. So we hold hands. He also needs to have someone sleep with him. Otherwise, his core doesn't recharge correctly."

"Wes!" Danny protests. "They don't know about cores!"

"Oh," Wes shrugs, waving his hands at them, "Never mind. Processed as normal, Danny and I will cuddle in his room. Danny lead the way."

Alfred's foster son flushes a bright red but quickly tugs the guest away. Jason shakes from unrestrained laughter as Damian stabs the table on which he is sharpening his knives.

Bruce yells after the two boys.

"The door stays open, Danny!"

"Master Bruce, it's not like that!" Danny yells back, mortified, and Wes breaks into impish laughter.

"I hate him," Duke hisses, and Bruce gives in to the urge to bury his face in his hands.

It's going to be a long weekend.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 4 #Wes is just here for the cuddles #Yes Danny is from a different dimension in this.#Everyone from that dimension is hot #Bruce is trying to dad

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sleepydeprived · 3 months

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A Chance for Redemption

—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham’s greatest detectives.

[chapter 1]

| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader

| Inspired by the work of @e-nonsense “GHOST OF A LONG GONE WOMAN”

The Gotham City skyline stretched across the horizon, its towering structures standing as silent guardians in the night. Inside the dimly lit study of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne sat alone amidst shadows that mirrored the complexities of his own mind.

A sudden beep from the Batcomputer broke the stillness. Bruce glanced at the screen, and his piercing gaze narrowed at the news report flashing across the monitor. The headline sent a ripple through him.

"Wayne Heiress Emerges: Striking Resemblance to Late Martha Wayne. Who is she?"

His heartbeat quickened as images of the young girl filled the screen. The uncanny resemblance to his late mother, Martha, struck him like a blow. The gentle curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes — it was as if a much younger version of Martha had been reborn in a face he had never known.

For a moment, the air in the study thickened with silence. Bruce's jaw tightened, and a flood of memories surged, carrying him back to the night of his parents' tragedy. He saw Martha's face, radiant and full of life, before the darkness took her away. Now, that same face stared back at him from the screen.

"What is this?" Bruce muttered to himself, his fingers tapping impatiently on the polished surface of the mahogany desk.

With a decisive gesture, he rose from his seat and moved toward the Batcave. Alfred, his ever-watchful confidant, observed the turmoil in Bruce's eyes.

"Master Wayne, might I inquire about the cause of your distress?" Alfred's calm voice cut through the tension.

Bruce handed Alfred a tablet displaying the news report. As Alfred scanned the images, the lines on his forehead deepened in concern.

"An unexpected development, sir. Shall I investigate further?" Alfred offered, his loyalty unwavering.

"No, Alfred. I'll handle this myself,"

In the heart of the Batcave, surrounded by the symbols of his dual life, Bruce Wayne accessed the Batcomputer with purpose, initiating a search that would unravel the truth behind the possible Wayne heiress.

As information unfolded on the screen, Bruce's stoic demeanor flickered with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The mystery of his potential blood-related daughter, bearing the face of his beloved mother, demanded answers that eluded even the World's Greatest Detective.

In the shadows of Wayne Manor, a silent storm brewed. All veiled behind the haunting gaze of a daughter who bore the visage of a long-lost woman.

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ynscrazylife · 6 months

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THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.

His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.

“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.

“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”

He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.

Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.

“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”

He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.

“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.

And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.

Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.

“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.

The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.

Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .

Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.

He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.

Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.

When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.

Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.

Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.

While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.

You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.

Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.

It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.

“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.

“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”

Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.

It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.

He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.

“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.

They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.

“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.

“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.

The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.

#bruce wayne fanfiction #bruce wayne angst #bruce x you #bruce x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #batfamily x reader #dc batman #batman fic #batman fluff #batmom #batmobile #avengers x reader #mcu avengers #dc marvel crossover

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nelkcats · 1 year

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Eldritch Friend

Or: Learning to be human,

DPxDC Prompt

Since she was in the League, Cass noticed a shadow watching her, but it never took aggressive actions against her, on the contrary, the shadow always seemed to try to help her. It gave her medicine or cures for her wounds, on one occasion it gave her an ice sculpture of a dancer, it was beautiful.

The shadow didn't seem to want to fight with her, and it was impossible for them to communicate because of this. It didn't seem to have a body either so she couldn't read its body language (Though Cass was sure that the shadow was trying to form a more stable body, maybe even resembling a human).

When she moved in with the Waynes the shadow followed her (and even formed a more human body), that's when she understood. The shadow was trying to be human.

And her "lessons" began (She was determined to teach her shadow friend about humanity, even if she herself was learning), Cass taught it sign language at the same time she was learning, and her deductions proved to be correct when the shadow was finally able to explain to her why it stayed.

His name was Danny, a ghost who had been alone so long that he had lost his humanity, the only language he remembered was that of his old friend: Wulf. Although he had lost his humanity long ago, Danny was still human, more or less (Cass didn't understand that part, probably a mistranslation?)

The shadow wanted to be human like her, learn the language, how to relate and so on. As her lessons continued, the shadow's body began to change more until she found herself facing a teenager who looked just like a male version of herself (Cass wondered if Danny copied her appearance).

Despite that achievement, it was obvious that his Eldritch characteristics weren't completely gone, and he still had a hard time being human, but he looked so proud that she couldn't ask him to shapeshift. So she had to follow her lessons while she concealed a teenage Eldritch who would give her father a cardiac arrest if he discover it.

Oh, and that while she was trying to keep Alfred and Steph from finding out, easy right?

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 20 days

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There's an anger in me (I think I learned it from you)

hope here needs a humble hand - series masterlist here

pairing: platonic bruce wayne x reader, platonic dick grayson x reader

length: 1.9k

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

warnings: reader and dick get into a fight and dick is so mean. reader definitely has trauma and issues but Good Dad Bruce Wayne is here so it's fine and also Big Brother Dick in the end

a/n: I'm not a dick grayson hater but I do think he'd be the biggest bitch and say the meanest shit in a fight. anyway life is kicking my ass so bad rn so idk if this is even any GOOD but you can have it <3

Alfred sighs to himself, a disapproving sort of frown finding its way onto his face as he listens to your raised voice, you and Dick butting heads again. It's not uncommon for you to find reason to argue with the others, but it is tiresome - frustrating to him that you can't seem to lay down this constant fight of yours that you live with.

And Dick? Well, as he spits an insult back and you and you shove at his chest, Alfred idly thinks that maybe he's your worst target so far. Dick Grayson may be kind under typical circumstances, but anger like this brings out the worst in him.

"At least Bruce wanted me," he snaps at you. "You just shoved your way in."

That doesn't just stop you, it stops everyone in their tracks. It especially stops Bruce, who had come into the Cave when he'd gotten word from Alfred about another fight. And there's just… silence at first. You, staring up at Dick with wide, hurt eyes while his anger slowly melts, regret replacing it.

"Hey, I didn't mean -" but you don't stay to listen, fleeing past Bruce and out of the Cave, despite his calls of your name. You don't stick around to hear the way Bruce rips into Dick about it, berating him for even suggesting such a thing, before he follows you up to the Manor.

Alone in your room, with the walls closing in on you and your lungs squeezing painfully, your breath catches as you hear footsteps approaching. Bruce's knocks on your door are as gentle as the way he calls your name, asking you to please open the door.

You don't.

How can you? He's right, he's right, he's right - Bruce didn't want you. How much trouble have you caused since you got here? - too much, your brain supplies. And Dick is right, Bruce didn't want you… he couldn't have. You, with your headstrong determination, pushing your way into anything and everything that you'd ever wanted. You, with your heels always dug in and your arms always crossed and your shoulders always squared. How could he possibly want that?

You pace behind your locked door, pulling on your hair as your breath quickens, words you've heard a million times running through your head.

Spoiled, selfish, stubborn -

Bruce's voice on the other side of the door isn't enough to drown it out, his promises of, "I love you, we all love you. Dick didn't mean that, and he'll apologize to you when you're ready. Please come out, sweetheart… I love you, and you have always been wanted by me. You've always been wanted by this family."

You stare at the door as if glaring hard enough would make it soundproof, your breath still coming out in short little gasps as you clench your fists, nails digging into the skin of your palms. You watch through blurred vision as Bruce's shadow shifts and darkens under the door - you watch as he settles on the other side of the wood, determined not to leave you to do this alone.

"You come out whenever you're ready, sweetheart," he says gently. "I'll be here."

You scoff, turning abruptly away from the door - away from him. He won't stay - he won't, he won't, he won't -

"I won't leave you." Bruce's voice is heard again and you squeeze your eyes shut. It's like he knows, and you can't figure out how, can't fathom the idea that he really has been paying attention all this time, that he knows you and your ticks and your traumas. You curl up on top of your bed, determined to just shut down until it's all over - until he gives up and leaves you be. Maybe then you can leave, too - leave for real. Maybe it would all be better if you slipped out quietly, off into the city, into someone else life and away from this one. Maybe there really wasn't room for you in this family.

When you wake later, the first thing you're forced to notice is the throbbing behind your eyes and the light that streams in through the window, the sun beginning to set and bathing you in a halo-like glow. Sitting up, you notice a shadow still stationed on the other side of your door, having stayed, unmoving, for as long as you'd been hiding.

Getting up slowly, you make your way to it, sitting down with your back against the door and letting your head thump rather loudly against the wood of it. It's only then that Bruce moves, shifting on the other side. You clench your fists on your lap as words get caught on their way out. I'm sorry, I love you, thank you for staying.

"Why are you still there?" Is all that ends up coming out, the words harsh as they cut through the air. You flinch at hearing them, your own voice hatefully foreign to you.

"Because I love you," Bruce says simply, like it's such an easy thing. "And I promised I wouldn't leave you." You sit still after that, turning what he's said over in your mind again and again and again before standing abruptly and wrenching your door open, relying on Bruce's reflexes to get himself up and standing by the time you do.

Fortunately, he's always been a little faster than you, always a little better. By the time you're looking at him, he's standing in your doorway, his shoulders slumped as he slouches down to look you in the eye. He's making himself smaller, you realize, something that feels like regret eating away at you. He's making himself small and it's your fault.

But Bruce isn't looking at you like he blames you, and the way he ever so gently puts his hands on your shoulders and presses a kiss to the crown of your head speaks only of love. Only of forgiveness. You stand straighter when he does, a silent urge for him to do this same - for him to be tall for you. Maybe then, you wouldn't have to be.

"It's true, though, isn't it? You ask, something pained in your voice that you can't quite hide.

"It's not." There's a way he says it, like it's written in some holy text somewhere and he's promising it now because faith demands it. "You are always wanted here. And you always will be."

"What if I never believe that?"

"Then we'll keep telling you." You shoot Bruce a look at his assuredness, one that just makes him smile down at you.

"Even Dick?" You ask, uneasiness finding its home in you despite your clenched fists and set jaw.

"Especially Dick, he answers easily. "I'm sure he'll spend a very long time trying to make up for this. He never means it, you know - there's this anger in him that he can't quite shake sometimes." Your shoulders slump at his words and you drop your chin, eyes trained on the floor.

"Yea," your voice is bitter. "That, I understand."

You find, later that night, that you wish Dick didn't care quite so much. Your mask covers your face, the hard set of your jaw and the annoyance that pulls down your brows, but in the faint moonlight of the docks, you're sure Dick can see the taught pull of your shoulders.

Thank god it's a slow night, you find yourself thinking as you perch on the edge of a rooftop, kicking your legs over the edge. You know he's around, watching and waiting and trying to find a moment to approach you. You think you'll have to find the moment for him when Nightwing finally sits next to you, his movements silent and slow. He looks at you long and hard, his own eyes hidden behind his mask as you stare out at the water, waiting for him to decide how this will all go.

"I don't always say the right thing," is what he ends up confessing. "And it wasn't fair for you to be on the receiving end of that. I'm… sorry."

"I started it," you say simply. "You shouldn't apologize for biting back."

"No," Dick says carefully, tapping his finger on his thigh. "But I should apologize for how I did it." You look at him, then, eyes searching his face and cursing the masks you both wear, layers of protection against anyone who would try to know you.

"Did you mean it?" You finally ask. "Is it true? Because if it is… if it is, then you should only apologize for lying to me up till now."

"It's not," Dick answers, and there's something in the clear ring of his voice that reminds you of Bruce. Your lips twitch into a smile as you think of how unhappy he'd be to find that out. "Things with Bruce and I… well, I'm sure you know they weren't always good."

"I don't actually know everything," you huff back. "Even my eavesdropping has limitations - especially with all of you. You're a lot harder to hide from than everyone else." Dick grins at that, a self-satisfied sort of thing that makes you regret speaking.

"Well, it's lucky, I guess," he goes on. "The Bruce you know now - he's a lot better than he was in the beginning."

"Don't you think we all are?" You ask before you can stop yourself, eyes snapping back out to the water as you desperately try to close yourself off from him, heart hammering at the response you're sure to get. There is no part of you that's getting better. There is no part of you that can be good. But Dick just readjusts how he's sitting, sliding closer so that your shoulders bump and he can tap your hands with his own, a silent chide for the way you twist your fingers nervously.

"You're right," he says plainly, and suddenly you're glad for the masks. You're not sure what would happen if you looked over and saw that big brother, sick-with-pride look he's so fond of. "When Jason came along, it felt a bit too much like being replaced. I know it was a long time ago, but… maybe I still feel it a bit more than I should - whenever anyone new comes along. It's not your fault… it's not your fault and I'm glad you're here."

You sigh at his words, tipping back until you're laying on the rooftop, your legs still kicking over the edge as you pretend to look up at the stars, blinking tears away rapidly behind your mask. You're sure he knows, but you're also sure he's too kind to say anything, laying back with you and interlocking his hands behind his head to lean on.

There's a lot you think you should say right now. I'm sorry, I love you, thank you for coming back for me. Thank you for not leaving me behind. Thank you for not giving up on me.

"What are you hanging around here tonight for, anyway?" Is what comes out instead, but you find you aren't so bothered by it this time.

"Want me to stick around? Finish your patrol with you?" Is his only answer. You huff.

"I don't need help taking care of the docks. I've been doing that longer than I've been involved with you idiots." Dick laughs, loud enough that you groan and roll away from him, standing up and crossing your arms.

"Well, you never know, then," he responds easily as he swings himself to his feet. "Maybe we could learn something from each other."

"Fine," you snipe back, but you can't help the way you bounce on the balls of your feet, a weight you hadn't realized you'd been carrying starting to lift. "Maybe we can."

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remuslovebot · 27 days

Text

Protector | BW

pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

warnings: kinda rushed relationship, fluff, Bruce being protective and kinda stalker vibes. Not proof read. Kinda long?

taglist: @bumblebeesfromvenus @allysunny @junmsli

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Bruce was your protector. That’s how he saw it anyway. He would do anything to keep you out of harms way. But you also had a life that he could not control. Bruce worried about you a lot, especially when you were not with him.

It wasn’t safe in Gotham. The Joker was running rampant. Scarecrow — Dr.Crane — still hadn’t been found. These were all of Batman’s enemies. If they knew about Bruce being Batman then they would come for you.

You had nagged your way into Bruce’s life. As a reporter for the Gotham Gazette, you wanted to interview Bruce for a charity he was donating a lot of money to. Usually Bruce wasn’t big on giving interviews.

When you walked into his office on your arrival, you were taken back by his good looks and obvious charm. You’d seen him in magazines and in your publication but in person he looked quite different.

“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him.

When Bruce saw you, he was struck. You were beautiful. But your presence felt familiar. Like he knew you in another universe.

“Please call me, Bruce,” He insisted and you nodded, taking out your reporters notebook and tape recorder.

You sat down across his desk and crossed your legs. Bruce looked you up and down and you felt uneasy.

The interview went well and you went back to your office to write the article. You couldn’t shake off Bruce though. And Bruce couldn’t shake you off either.

He wondered when he would be able to see you again. Little did he know, you had a thing for getting yourself in sticky situations.

One night you were in the office working late, when you got a tip about a deal going on between two of the Jokers henchmen. That would be a big story for you, you thought. So impulsive as you were, you grabbed your bag and left.

Bruce was patrolling as Batman, when he saw two of the Joker’s henchmen start making a deal. He then saw you, hiding behind a dumpster. His heart dropped into his stomach. What the hell were you doing here? This is not safe for you!

You tripped behind the dumpster and one of the goons heard you. It wasn’t long until they cornered you and grabbed you.

“Hey! Let me go!” You screamed. You tugged against them and they had your purse. You stepped on one of the men with your heel and he yelped, letting you go.

You began to run away when the second one caught you.

“Let her go,” A dark voice in the shadows said. You looked up only to see the famous ‘Batman’ that Gotham Gazette had been so interested in.

Batman dropped down from the building and grabbed the goon. You fell to the ground but picked yourself back up. Batman fought the men and you watched from the sidelines.

“You should go,” Batman told you, tying up the Jokers goons.

You shook your head, “this is a story and a crime scene. I’m not leaving.”

Bruce thought you were stubborn. But it was attractive that you cared enough to stay. From that moment, he wanted to be by your side always.

When the cops showed up, you got your story. Even Batman gave you a quote, which was rare.

“Do you need a lift home?” Batman asked. Bruce under his mask was blushing furiously.

You looked so calm in a state of panic. You were truly a reporter.

“That would be nice, actually. Thanks,” you replied. Batman drove you home. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

Bruce smiled softly. His persona of Batman slipping away. You were that dangerous.

“It’s no problem. You need to be careful out there.” He said, then driving away.

You didn’t see Batman or Bruce for a while after that. But Bruce kept tabs on you. He wanted to see you again. Maybe ask you out for coffee. But he was afraid to get involved. Alfred called him silly.

“It would be nice to see you settled down, Master Wayne. This girl seems like a wonderful person.” Alfred said, always the helpful one.

Bruce wasn’t very good at taking Alfred’s advice though. The next time he saw you, you were in disguise. However it wasn’t very good, as Bruce spotted your curious eyes from a mile away.

“You know, if you’d only reached out I would give you any source you want,” Bruce said, taking a drink from his glass of whiskey.

You turned around to see him, albeit surprised. “Mr. Wayne.”

“Bruce,” he corrected.

“Bruce. I am perfectly capable of getting my own sources. But that is not why I’m here.” You said.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why are you here?” He asked, holding out his hand to dance with you.

You accepted and he pulled you into his arms. “Did you know that one of Commissioner Gordon’s men is working for Joker?”

Bruce didn’t know this. In fact he wondered how you knew before him. You were smart and he was falling more in love.

“I did not. Please tell me more.” Bruce said.

You looked in his eyes and found that you could trust him. His brown orbs looked so familiar, like you’d seen them in a dream.

“The men you arrested that one night. I went to Arkham to interview them again. And he ratted out the information but no name,” you explained.

You and Bruce continued to dance, he held you close and you found yourself blushing.

“And this person. Is here now?” Bruce asked and you nodded.

“Once I know who they are. We can alert Batman.” You said brightly.

“You really think so highly of him?” Bruce asked, snobbishly. He had to play his part well.

“Of course. He’s helping the city.” You said.

Bruce couldn’t argue. He loved that you thought so highly of Batman — of him. But you had no idea they were one and the same.

As you danced with Bruce, your connection grew. You got lost in his eyes and he in yours.

“Bruce…” you said, above a whisper.

“Yes?” He asked, looking down at your lips then back to your eyes.

Before you could answer, the doors to the dance hall closed shut and Jokers goons crowed around the doors.

Bruce held you close. He had no idea how he was going to pull off being Batman and getting you out of there.

You and him stopped dancing and he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You blushed.

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asked. You looked at him suspiciously but then nodded.

Bruce guided you away from the surprised crowd as fast as he could. He practically carried you off that dance floor.

“Bruce— what about? Where are we—“ you began to argue.

He shushed you, “You said you would trust me. Now please be quiet,” he pleaded.

You did as you were told. Bruce lead you to a secluded part of the building and opened the wall.

“What is this your panic room?” You teased. Bruce gave you a look. “Alright I’ll be quiet.”

Once you were through the wall, the lights to a gigantic room turned on and in the middle of the room was — the Bat suit.

“I can’t have anything happening to you. The joker probably came here for you because you’re on this story. Now I need you to stay here where you are safe.” Bruce said, beginning to undo his tie.

“You’re Batman.” You said, speechless.

Well there’s goes no telling her out of the window., Bruce thought.

“Yes.” He replied.

You walked closer to him. “So you’re the one who saved me. The one that drove me home.”

You were speechless and had all these pent of feelings for the man that saved you. Who was also the man who danced with you.

You pulled him to you by his half undone tie and kissed him softly. Bruce immediately kissed back, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“Hmm, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you,” Bruce said, pulling away.

You smiled, looking into his eyes softly. “Go. Be Batman. But please be safe.”

He nodded, a hand going to your cheek to caress it softly. “I will. I need you to stay here though. I need to protect you.”

You knew that Bruce Wayne and Batman would always be your protector.

#bale!bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #christian bale is hot #christian bale fluff #christian bale x reader #christian bale smut #chrisitan bale batman #batman x fem!reader #batman x reader #batman begins #the dark night x reader #the dark knight trilogy #the dark knight #bale!batman x reader #christian bale #bale!

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ghost-bxrd · 3 months

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I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

#look growing up in the middle of the woods just does something to you #my entire family told us tales about the creatures in the woods #looking back on it now a lot of them were fairly creepy #but my cousin and I always went looking for the one who ‘swayed the trees’#there’s not a good translation for it but it sounds pretty cool in my language #and also slightly gruesome #double meaning and all that #then again our idea of fun was traipsing into the moors and finding ways through it without getting stuck so idk #wow ok that reads like a bit of a horror story but I swear it was great #anyway #ghost talks #fae dick Grayson #dick grayson #nightwing #Robin

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the-wandering-mage · 2 months

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I've seen a lot of Batfam meets the Justice League fics where Batman has hidden his family. I'd really like a Batfam meets the Justice League fic where he doesn't try to hide his family no. The Batman who loves scaring people, popping out of shadows, disappearing into them, and overall just fucking with people, the head of the chaotic Batfam, he knowing that the other heros don't know a lot of what goes on in Gotham so he just pretends like they know. He tells them it's Oracle's system that runs watchtower and he make a bunch of vague references to the other bats knowing they are going to take it a different way. He doesn't try to hide his relationship with the other bats when his kids and their teams run into the Justice League. He just sits back and watches the chaos as the leaguers try to make their perception of The Batman fit with what they are seeing.

And his kids and their teams? Well they should have believed them when they said Batman was they're dad. It's not their fault they thought they were joking. Even Alfred is in on it making calls to watchtower and Titan's tower about being home in time for dinner and forgetting their lunches at home. Alfred is happy how this is bringing them together and that Bruce is making friends.

Meanwhile the Hero community is scared shitless about Batman's retired dad that doesn't have a no kill rule. They've never met him in person but the overall respect of the Batfam has towards Agent A as well as the fact he raised Batman makes them never want to meet him or for him to feel a need to come out of retirement.

***

"oh Batman isn't the head of the Batfamily"

"what?"

"Agent A is"

***

"who's scarier than Batman?", one of the leaguers asks rhetorically

Batfam member who pops up behind them from the shadows, "Agent A, he doesn't have a no kill rule"

"who's Agent A?"

"The man who raised Batman"

The leaguer who once referred to him as that old guy that answers the batcave phone: 😨

#fanfiction ideas #batfam #batfamily fic #Justice League meets the Batfamily #the batfamily meets the Justice League #scary Alfred Pennyworth #perhaps you rely on my master's vow against lethal force I subscribe to no such niceties #scared justice league #fanfiction prompts #batman fanfiction #messing with the justice league as a form of bonding #messing with the titans as a form of bonding #chaotic Batfamily #Batfamily dynamics #isolated Batfamily #no body knows what goes on in Gotham #hiding in plain sight #crack fic

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thekitsunesiren · 1 year

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Dc x Dp Prompt #25: The New Butler

It had happened when all of the bats were out. Whether it was they all went out for a long mission or were busy keeping up their public lives to not raise suspicion. When they came back, they expected to be greeted by Alfred with whatever news or possibly a meal he could've made for them upon their return.

What they didn't expect was for a younger male to be right at Alfred's side, wearing a suit similar to their trusted butler's and a welcoming smile as if he had been there the entire time.

The group had moved to attack the sudden intruder when Alfred stopped them, claiming that young Danny-that was his name?-would be his understudy and working with him to take care of the Wayne family.

Of course they were skeptical. Because why would Alfred of all people hire someone so suddenly. Especially without them doing a thorough background check to make sure that the person isn't a threat to them or their secret identities as well. So for now, they only had to sit back and watch for anything odd about the new hire.

And watch they did.

They watched every move that Danny did in the manor. And if he wasn't shadowing Alfred to learn something about the preferences of those who lived in the manor, he was given small tasks such as cleaning certain areas or helping with the laundry. None of the bats trusted Danny to go into their rooms in fear of him possibly planting something or stealing something from them. And so far, Danny was....nice. He was polite whenever he saw one of the family members in the house. He had a type of humor that Tim found himself quickly liking whenever he had the chance to interact with him for a moment. But other than that. he seemed pretty normal. Except, they could all tell that something was...off. Other than when he spoke, Danny was quiet. Too quiet. They were vigilantes, and even they made a sound from time. Danny didn't. It was like he was gone one moment and there the next. Without any trace of him being there the first place. That was just creepy. Getting a background check on him was hard as well. There wasn't anything on this kid, at all. They could hardly catch him on the security cameras at times. All they could do is stand and watch as the mysterious newcomer became close to their beloved butler and wonder: just what was Danny?

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc×dp prompt #dp crossover

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ametrictonofaudacity · 1 year

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Gaps 2

Platonic Yandere Batfam x Mentally Ill/Forgetful Reader

Warning: This work is a yandere work, hopefully part of a series, as as such will contain themes of manipulation, abuse, violence and obsession. This specific work contains drugging. Stay safe, and enjoy!!

“(Y/N), maybe you should stay at the Manor for the night. It’s coming down pretty hard out there.” Bruce comments, passing you a warm mug. You curl your fingers around the mug, enjoying the heat seeping into your hands, and glance outside. It was pouring, yeah, but nothing beyond what was standard for Gotham.

“Bruce, I’ve driven in this sort of weather hundreds of times.” You point out, even as you curl up on the soft couch. The large man sits next to you, a touch too close for your comfort, and takes a sip from his own mug. The bitter smell makes your nose wrinkle, and you glance at the cup of black coffee. You much preferred your hot chocolate.

“Still. I’d rather you not have to. Just for the night? Alfred can drop you off at work, if you need him too.” Bruce cajoles gently. He turns on the TV, to some drama or soap opera you don’t recognize, and you sigh, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

There’s a strange aftertaste you can’t quite place. You wonder if Alfred changed the recipe.

“Bruce, please. Let’s not do this.” You plead, absolutely exhausted. Emotionally and mentally. You adored the Wayne’s, you really did, but they tended to treat you like you were younger than you were, constantly hovering and fretting. “I know you worry but I need you to trust me.”

He doesn’t respond for a bit, and when he does, he leans forward, eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

“It’s not you I don’t trust, (Y/N). You know that.”

You take another gulp of hot chocolate, hoping the sweetness will wash down the bitter words coming to your mouth, but you let the man continue. The fire casts his face into something intense, something almost other, and you watch as the shadows seemingly twist and dance around him.

“I just… everyone in the family worries, (Y/N). You’re very important to all of us, and we worry that something might happen to you when you’re away. Especially with how much you struggle with your memory.”

You lick your lips, waiting patiently for him to continue. When you realize he’s waiting on a response, you word your sentence carefully, even though they’re heavy in your mouth and make your lips tingle.

“That’s not.. that not y’all’s job. You don’t have to worry about me. Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just…”

It’s just that they’re stepping over your boundaries. It’s just that they’re stomping all over them, walking all over them gleefully. You preferred to keep people at a distance, preferred solitude, but the Wayne’s had already wiggled their way into your heart with ease. You didn’t mind that, but you did mind how they seemed determined to take care of you when you didn’t need to be taken care of.

“(Y/N), I know you aren’t used to being taken care of. I understand that. Just let us help you. Even if it’s something as simple as picking up medication, or helping you find an item. You don’t have to rely entirely on yourself anymore.” Bruce is almost fervent when he says this, leaning forward towards you, and there is a warm, earnest expression on his face. It’s not Brucie, his public persona, but the intensity of it steals the breath from your lungs and makes your chest tighten.

Your fingers buzz, and you take a sip of your cocoa, realizing you had forgotten to take your anxiety meds.

Maybe that’s why you were so put off by all this. Maybe the wires in your head were too crossed, too tangled, for you to understand genuine care versus smothering. Maybe Bruce really did just want to help.

“I’ll let you guys help.” You finally decide, and his shoulders unwind, before he reaches forward.

You aren’t sure what you expect, but the hand gently ruffling your hair isn’t it. You blink as the man stands, picking up his cup.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I mean it. Are you finished with your..?”

“Oh, ah, hold on.” You quickly chug the rest of the unfinished drink, because far be it for you to waste Alfred’s cocoa, and pass him the mug, wiping the foam from your lip.

“Be right back.”

The TV drones on when he comes back, and there’s a blanket in his hands, which he wraps around you. You don’t mind. The warmth is pleasant, seeping into your bones which are rapidly getting looser, and you sigh, burying your face into the soft faux fur.

Bruce sits down. He’s closer than he was before, radiating heat, and you grumble when your body falls against his thanks to the shifting weight. He doesn’t move you, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You’re not sure how to react. It’s warm and it’s nice and good, but part of you reels against being causally held like a small child.

You decide to let it continue, if only because you were too tired to care.

“Bruce?” The word is barely understandable, slurred, and you frown. That wasn’t quite right.

“Mm?”

“I think-“ You yawn, jaw popping loudly. “I think Alfred is gonna have to drop me off tomorrow.”

“Thats alright. You just get some rest, okay?” He soothes, and you nod, feeling him adjust the blankets around you.

You sink into oblivion like that, warm and safe and heavy.

#yandere dc #yandere platonic batfam #yandere platonic x reader

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devilfic · 4 months

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omg we need more of the honeymoon shot bruce and reader,, maybe a one bed trope if it’s not too much to ask no pressure obv!!<3

❝honeymoon❞

II. marriage bed.

parts: previously / next plot: the in-laws are in town. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, only one bed trope. words: 1.6k.

"I'm sorry" feels numb to say at this point. You still say it, standing at the foot of what should have been your marriage bed. It's been a long night and you'd wrung your hands of dish soap until your family practically barked at you to get to bed, to get back to your husband.

You can still hear them, cackling downstairs in the living room while your nieces and nephews tumble through the hallway. It must feel alien to have your childhood home, long devoid of familial joy, be suddenly bursting full of it. And have none of it mean anything to you.

Bruce stands shoulder to shoulder with you for a few more beats. Then he walks to the door, and you watch him twist the lock with a firm click. Your heart picks up a bit.

His steps are muted on the carpet and you take in his shoulders, the rolling hills of muscles in his back, and the pants that cling to the divots of his hip bones. The black cashmere is a gift from your mother, something preferable to his "ratty" sweats. He didn't like these very much.

Since you'd started living here, you caught glimpses of him like this. A heavy shadow of a man skulking in the darkness, waiting for you to leave for work before revealing himself. Rarely would you find yourselves crossing paths in the kitchen or catching eyes in the living room. And with each fleeting glance, he would escape elsewhere, receding into the tower the way a frightened cat might hide from strangers. Intruders. Funnily enough, you found avoiding eye contact helped that.

But now there was nowhere to run. Your family was here for the holidays and they were in every room. Eyes everywhere.

"Do you need to work tonight?" You'd started calling it that: "work". It made sense around the family (not so much your mother), and it didn't put him on edge when you skirted around the "B" word. "I can help you get downstairs."

He's half-turned to you, waiting on his side of the bed, so you can see the way his face scrunches up at a thought, "Gordon... told me to take time off. For family."

You snort, "You told him the in-laws were in town?"

"Yes."

You blink, "Oh."

Bruce had told you that between you and Alfred, no one else knew who Batman was. The lieutenant, trusted friend and ally as he were, had yet to join the ranks of your prestigious little club. It felt wrong to be in it when he wasn't; you'd forced yourself into it, and Bruce didn't even trust you.

You round the bed opposite to Bruce, and staring across it at him felt like staring across an ocean—he was so far away. You wondered how many people had shared this bed with him. How many he trusted as little as you.

You understand that the Bruce you remember was still a boy, grieving much differently than he is now, and had liked you just a little bit more.

You're the first to draw back the covers.

Bruce watches you settle in before following suit, reluctant, as if he were still wondering about the cons of sleeping in his car tonight. The weight of the bed dramatically shifts and you glide against the silk to his side when he lays down, your hand going for his upper arm to steady yourself. He jolts at the contact, staring you down like a deer in headlights.

Your second sorry of the night spills from your lips, and you squirm away from the warmth of his side and back to the edge of the bed.

You both lay like that for a while, side by side, neither of you particularly comfortable.

"Why didn't you say no?"

His question rocks the stillness in the air. You almost jolt. You turn your head and ask, as casually as you are able, "Say no to what?"

"The marriage."

Ah. "You've met my mother. It's hard to say no to her. Isn't that why you're in this situation in the first place?"

He remains looking up at the ceiling, but you see his jaw constrict, "The you I knew had a backbone."

He means it to hurt. Reminders of your youth together had not softened with time, it seemed, even if he treated you like a distant memory. You don't muster up the courage to bite back at him. Instead, you tuck your tail and keep the mist from gathering in your eyes, "...Yeah."

He doesn't seem to have expected that response. He finally turns his head to look at you, visibly confused. For a few moments, the two of you just stare at each other. Him, analyzing. You... mourning. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's becoming harder to hold back tears, "Not this. Not with her pulling all the strings. Regardless of what you think about me, or my mother, or my family, I didn't want any of this. I don't... want to be your enemy, Bruce."

You want so badly for him to believe you. You've never wanted anything more than for him to see you honestly, transparently, except perhaps to see him the same. To not have to fight.

He's about to say something when the doorknob wriggles, followed by a tentative knock. The two of you sit up and listen for who could be at the door, until a small voice calls your name through the wood, "My niece." You say, rigid. "She must be lost." You go to stand but to your surprise, Bruce is already at the door letting her in.

She stands at just about his knee, blanket clutched in her chubby arms and mouth hidden by the purple fleece. She has to turn her head all the way up to look him in the eyes, "Uncle Bruce," she says through a lisp, "where's the bathroom?"

You can't fully see Bruce's reaction from the bed. From the side, you watch his shoulders sag and his cheek rise in what you think is... a smile.

Very slowly, he comes to a crouch in front of her, "The bathroom?" He asks. She nods an affirmative. "Why didn't you ask Grandpa Alfred? He knows where everything is."

Her eyes dart to the side, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "...Grandpa Alfred is scary."

Bruce laughs, actually laughs. He hasn't laughed around you. Hasn't managed more than a smile today, and only to placate your mother. He's warmer too, more open. You watch him. Mesmerized. "He is a little scary, isn't he? But I promise, he's really nice if you get to know him." Your niece doesn't seem so convinced. A moment passes as Bruce thinks of what to say, "How about I come with you to go ask him?"

Her eyes light up, "Really?"

"Really."

Bruce holds out his arms to her, and though she's reluctant, you watch her tumble into them with arms thrown around his neck. He hops back to his feet with her perched on his hip like she weighs nothing—and she probably does, to him—and asks her in a hushed voice if she's holding on tight.

Her little head turns to look at you over his shoulder and he follows, his smile weakening some.

You almost ask if she'd like you to come with, but think better of it. In the time it would take Bruce to complete this task, you could try to fall asleep. Maybe then it'd be easier on him to share the bed with you, "Go with Uncle Bruce. Maybe Grandpa Alfred will show you the fancy swords if you're brave enough to ask."

Your niece beams, urging Bruce to take her to him this instant, and they disappear out of sight.

You're half conscious when Bruce returns and shuts the door, but there is no click of the lock to follow after.

With your back turned, all you have to tell you where he is in the room are his small sighs. He's on his side, closer than you expected him to be so quickly, and you curse the carpet that hides his footfalls. You keep your breaths measured, pretending you're fully asleep, and wait for him to climb in.

One knee presses into the mattress, then the other, and you quickly remember the problem with this bed.

He's just laid on his side when you go sliding backwards, feeling your body collide with his chest. You force your eyes to stay closed but you are chilled with mortification. Should you move? Give up the facade of sleep and scramble for the other side of the bed? Would he shove you away?

You wait for his heavy hand to fall on your back, but... nothing. Seconds crawl forward at a snail's pace. You can feel the heat of his hand hovering over your hip where your night shirt had ridden up, but he never touches you. You take slow, deep breaths. You wait for him to wake you, then, if he won't shove you.

But that also never comes. The tips of his fingers lightly brush the skin of your hip, and then disappear. You feel his arm wiggle between the both of you, feel him shift a bit on the mattress, but nothing more. He doesn't push you away. Doesn't call your name. Doesn't shake you until you're forced to crawl to the other side.

He gets comfortable. Stiff, but comfortable, and he doesn't move you. You wonder, as the heat of his chest makes you conscious of your heart beating quicker, if it's too late to crawl back on your own.

You wait for what feels like hours contemplating it. So long, it feels like he might've fallen asleep behind you. So long, that you melt into his side of the mattress. So long, that sleep comes and morning soon after before you could even make up your mind.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne drabble #does this count as a drabble anymore lmao #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

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wondersinwaynemanor · 4 months

Text

that time when Diana visited the Manor and Jason didn't know she was coming over.

Jason: Dick, you fucking suck. *shoves Dick to the side as they walk to the kitchen* Why did you wake me up at this hour? I need my fucking beauty sleep. I have to finish the book tonight!!!

Diana and Bruce glance at each other as the two boys enter the kitchen.

Bruce: Boys! Quiet down. And Jaylad, language.

Jason finally takes in his surroundings. His cheeks turn crimson by the time he sees Diana.

Jason: OH MY GOSH! *coughs, completely embarrassed* Hey, Diana! :"D

Dick snickers beside him and tries to contain his laughter: Hi, Diana. I almost forgot you're coming over.

Jason gives Dick the "What the fuck?" and "Why didn't you inform me?" looks.

Diana: Good morning, Dears. Join us for tea?

Jason internally panics: Give me a sec.

Jason leaves the kitchen, runs to the nearest bathroom and checks his reflection if he looks presentable because OMG HIS FAVORITE HERO IS HERE AND SHE HEARD HIM CURSING???? Jason bites his finger to contain his embarrassment. Once he's ready, he takes a deep breath and leaves the bathroom.

Once Jason re-enters the room, Cass, Tim and Damian have joined the rest of the family on the table. He sits in between Cass and Damian. He is quiet as he begins to eat breakfast. Tim and Dick chuckle across him as they already understand why he's acting that way. Diana and Bruce talk about the gala that's happening on the weekend.

Cass notices Jason, gets worried and touches his hand as if asking if he's okay.

Damian: Todd, you okay? You look like you just read a sad ending from one of your novels.

Before Jason can answer, Alfred calls from the kitchen: Can someone please help me carry the Croissants?

Jason immediately stands up from the table and goes to Alfred to assist him: Got it, Alfie.

Alfred knows all too well: Of course you do, Master Jason.

Jason returns to the table and offers the bowl of Croissants only to Diana, even missing Bruce's hand that reaches for one of the pastries.

Diana: Thank you, Jason. *smiles as exquisitely as ever and gently gives a soft pat on Jason's face*

If Jason knew acrobatic movements, he would do one now.

Dick sees his younger brother's enthusiasm and he adores it: Wish you were always here, Diana.

Tim: Everyone seems more cheerful whenever you're here.

Everyone else at the table acknowledges.

Diana: Would love to be here always. If Bruce doesn't mind.

Jason blurts out: Oh, he doesn't mind. We love you being here. Right, B? :"D

Bruce smiles: You know you're always welcome here, Diana. *steals a glance at Jason who shrugs*

When Diana leaves, the whole table is chaotic.

Alfred: Good thing we had Miss Prince over.

Dick: Little Wiiiing. Looks like you're not upset anymore.

Damian: Thought Todd was gonna pass out.

Tim: He didn't even curse. Not a single bit.

Cass just sits there and chuckles as she observes her brothers banter back and forth.

Jason presents his middle finger but mostly only to Dick and Tim's direction: Fu-

Bruce warns: Jaylad.

Jason: Ugh, I'm going back to bed.

Once his children slowly leave the room, Bruce has an idea.

That night when Red Hood is on patrol.

Red Hood draws his gun from the holster and points it to the thugs.

Red Hood: Leave this city. If I see your faces here again, I swear I'm gonna fucking -

Before he can finish his sentence, the thugs are already running away.

Red Hood turns around and he nearly jumps when he sees Wonder Woman flying down beside him. He automatically puts his gun away.

Red Hood: Oh. Hey.. Hey, Wonder Woman.

Wonder Woman: Red Hood. *she nods his way* Will be joining you tonight. Batman said you needed help.

And for the rest of the night, Red Hood didn't use his guns. Not even once. He's already planning the things he'll say to Bruce tonight. And yes, he's angry because a little heads up would have been helpful, but either way, it's nice having your favorite hero with you.

Batman smirks as he watches from the shadows: Problem solved. Thank you, Wonder Woman.

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ravenna-reid · 4 months

Text

Kisses, Lulls and Incoherent Ramblings

~ what happens when the lights cut out at one of Bruce's galas? ~

You and Jason were attending the last gala of the year when suddenly, there was a power outage and you two were asked to explore the manor.

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None <3

The gala was magnificent. Golden chandeliers littered the ceiling with their crystals cascading down and shimmering. Waiters went around handing out decorated tarts and some of the most expensive wines and champagnes in Gotham. Distinguished guests were dressed in their best tailored suits and array of velvet and satin dresses.

Hours had passed, and given only you and Jason were so reclusive when it came to Galas, you eventually gravitated towards each other. Bruce and Dick were both socialising with all of the guests, Dick’s charm coming more natural to him then Bruce’s forced persona. Tim was with Stephanie and the boy he’d been seeing, laughing in the corner of the opulent room. Lucky for Cassandra, she was on a ballet trip across Europe right now.

And Damian. Well, no one knew where Damian was.

Nevertheless, you were just content that everyone was happy and safe right now.

Drinking your what, third? Fourth drink of the night? You began to feel the tipsiness seep into your bones. Usually, you were great with alcohol. Always pacing yourself and knowing when to stop. But given it was the last gala of the year, and you, Cassandra, and Jason had been left to deal with Deathstroke whilst Bruce went off somewhere to fight Ra’s, you were in dire need of some fun. You wanted to drown the thoughts out in your mind that constantly gnawed away at you. Hell, it had been a rough five months, and you deserved this.

You couldn't help but notice Jason seemed to have the same idea as you. Maybe he needed the champagne to get through this evening, as you knew that these sorts of things were more unbearable for him than anyone else.

Unexpectedly, the lights had all cut out as darkness quickly enveloped the room. Gasps filled the room before Bruce and Dick began to calm everyone down and try to figure out what caused the sudden power outage. Dread filled their stomachs as they all hoped it wasn’t an attack orchestrated by some villain that had a vendetta against the Wayne’s. After a while, Alfred had come over to you and Jason, explaining how Master Bruce had informed him to tell everyone to search the Wayne Manor for any unwanted visitors. Just in case. You and Jason agreed, Jason more so happy to leave the watchful eyes and prying questions of the guests. Setting your glasses down on the nearest table you both headed up the winding stairs to the West wing.

As you cautiously walked down the hall, Jason poured over how the moon beams streamed through the windows beside you, casting soft shadows across your face. He didn’t think you could look any more angelic, but you seemed to always prove him wrong. Hands beside your glistening navy silk dress as you scouted your surroundings, he wanted nothing more than to tenderly grab hold of your hand. To pull you in closer to him as you strolled around the dark manor.

“Hey look, this door is slightly open.” You whispered dramatically as you edged back towards him. The alcohol seemed to still be in your system.

Jason was suddenly torn from his thoughts. Clearing his throat and raising his brows, he spoke up. “What?” He slurred.

“That door, it’s open. Let’s go take a look.”

As you both neared one of the manors libraries, Jason instinctively stood closer to you, just in case there was someone in there. Slowly pushing the door open, you both walked into the room, the strong scent of antiques and old books filling your senses. You and Jason split up and roamed around the room, taken aback by its sheer beauty, especially in the moonlight. Meeting in the centre of the library once you both realised the room was empty, your gazes met each other.

A small small crept onto your face when you noticed Jason was hiding something behind his back.

“What’s that you got there?” You asked with a light laugh.

With his signature smirk on his handsome face, Jason revealed a wine bottle he had found hidden amongst the books.

You laughed, grabbing the large bottle from him.

“Probably Bruce’s.” He said, watching you read the golden label.

It was an expensive bottle. A well known wine. Probably thousands of dollars.

Either way, you handed it to Jason and he did the honours of opening it.

Weaving through the many bookshelves with Jason and the wine was far better than anything that was happening downstairs at the gala. Here you could relax. You could be yourself rather than this ‘uptight, pretentious socialite’ everyone wanted you to be.

Taking turns of having swigs of the bottle, your laughs soon filled the air. Jason’s smile was so perfect as he flashed you his pearly whites. A flutter began in your stomach once you realised you’d never seen him like this before. He was acting so carefree and open. Not like the stoic, intimidating, sarcastic Jason he usually was. You didn’t mind either side of him, but this one made your smile grow.

Twirling around with the bottle in your hand, you turned to go down the Classical Literature section of the library. Following behind, the wine made Jason admit something he would have never admitted to anyone sober.

“This is my favourite section.” He said sheepishly.

“No way.” You smiled, running your hands along all of the lined up dusty books. “Let me guess. Wuthering Heights?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” He admitted, a blush creeping onto his face.

You laughed and jokingly nudged his arm. “You big marshmallow.”

Turning the corner, you hadn’t seen the wooden carving stuck onto the wall, a design meant to hold candles. You smacked your head on it and a turrent of curse words left your lips.

Jason quickly made his way over to you, his hand on your arm.

“Are you alright?”

You held your hand over the spot on your forehead you hit. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You giggled, slightly embarrassed.

“Are you sure?”

Before he could stop himself, Jason’s hand was tenderly moving yours so he could see if you had a mark, his thumb running over the skin on your forehead.

“Should we go get some ice?”

“Jason,” You laughed, grabbing his hand and cupping it in yours to grab his attention.

Suddenly, his entire world froze as he gazed back at you.

Heavens, you were gorgeous. You were just…everything.

And it made him giddy. And hopelessly devoted to you. And also sick, although he was sure the alcohol was to blame for that.

“I promise, I’m alright.” You said.

Your mind was dragged to the music you could hear beginning again downstairs. The power must be back on. Swaying to its rhythm, you began to hum along, poking Jason on the tip of his nose at the end of the verse. With the confidence from the wine and the admiration he had for you, Jason went for it. Leaning in, he gingerly placed a kiss on your cheek. Warm and firm. His kiss cut you short, a soft gasp escaping you as your body stilled. When he pulled away, his head was bent down, his soft, raven black hair brushed against your face.

You couldn’t stop yourself. You just had to do it. Bringing your hand up to his face, your fingers began to trace his skin.

“Pretty boy.” You murmured.

And with that, Jason fell back into your embrace. His soothing, slurred words played against your ear. Each soft kiss brought lulls and incoherent ramblings from Jason in attempts to show his undying affection for you. But given that he was tipsy, probably more than tipsy, you didn’t know how much of what he said was true. You could hardly focus yourself.

Sweet promises and loving remarks. So foreign from the Jason you knew. It was like an entirely different person stood before you. Instead of a scowl, there was a soft expression that brushed upon his features. Instead of the aggressive and brutish nature that he acted in so naturally, there was a tender and gentle side of him you had never seen before. Instead of holding guns in his hands, he held you. The sudden display of affection towards you had your cheeks burning and heart beating in your chest. You never wanted this night to end.

#jason todd headcanons #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd #batfam #batfamily #fluff

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