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hanasnx · 4 months

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❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 8 months

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Alternative Universe Father-In-Law

Word Count: 2,700

Summary: Bruce enters a portal by mistake, leading him to bring back someone from another universe for a nice breakfest.

Pairing: Bruce x female!reader

Notes: I enojyed the comic and the animated movie where thomas meets bruce and i had an idea to write for it. also give alfred some well desserved flowers in being a dad. #alfreddesreveshisflowers

Warnings: dad that has come back with the milk

'I am telling you, Lois. Clark is stubborn, but he has a weak spot; mention the missing turkey of '08, and he will shut up and let you do whatever you want. "

'Wait! That really works?'

'Of course, it does. I have known Clark for 7 years, and I was the witness to that crime, so just mention it: he will fall back, trust me. Now I have to go. I am home.'

'Thanks, doll!'

'No worries, bye!'

Opening the big door, you enter with your phone nestled on top of your shoulder as you held the grocery bags. Stepping into the manor, you noticed the living room where Alfred was dusting behind the plasma screen.

'Mistress y/n. Welcome back.' The cheerful butler spoke as he walked to you, grabbing the grocery bags

'Thank you, Alfred. How was your day?' I asked him, striding next to him as we entered the spacious kitchen that held the marble island in the middle, placing the bags on top of it

'My day was good. The gardener came by and took care of the bush that Master Damian had 'shaped' with his swords yesterday. Although the poor man left with a terrible mind haze after finishing the Herculean task, managing to shape it back into a proper bush, and not some rhombus as Master Damian did.'

'Do remind me to tell Damian to leave the shrubs at peace. Maybe he can use those swords' skills to cut up meat when we have BBQs.'

'That seems like a great idea.'

The two hushed and resumed their conversation as Damian entered, his smile non-existent, his eyes scrunched into a tight-knit. You turn to him, saying with a slight chuckle

'Speak of the devil. What's up, Dami?'

The child walked between Alfred and you, crossing his arms and with a deep sigh, he articulated gradually

'Father has disappeared.'

You look at Alfred, knowing fully well that sometimes Bruce disappears to follow a clue, 'He will turn up by the end of the day. Bruce is like that, don't worry, sweetheart.'

'That is true, even before his vigilante lifestyle, Master Bruce was always the one to go with no notice but always turned up when his belly rumbled.'

With a giggle nestled in Alfred's sentence, Damian spoke again, shaking his head 'No. Father and I have been working on a portal and when I was grabbing a tool, he connected two wires, which opened a portal and pulled him in. By the time I came close, the portal closed.'

Looking at Alfred with a concerned look, you spoke what you two were thinking, 'And how come you two didn't tell us about that portal?'

Damian shook his head 'I-I have no clue, y/n.'

'Okay... and do you know where the portal leads to?'

'Between our world and other 456 parallel universes.'

fuck

Sighing deeply, you look at Damian 'So we have 1 in a 456 chance of finding him?'

'Yes. So are we going?' Damina asked, ready to jump into the adventure of the chance to jump from one universe to another

'No. We aren't. Damian, I can barely turn on the TV here without asking for help. And by no means will I manage to open a portal. We only have to wait and be next to the Bat computer to see if there are any anomalies. If an anomalie happens, I know someone who can help us.' I say, looking at the small assasin child

Damian looks up at you, his eyes asking questions, 'Who do you know, mother?'

'A friend, someone I knew way before you and Bruce. Even before I met Clark.'

You look at Alfred smiling 'He will show up, right Alfred?'

Alfred responds, faying his smile 'Of course, Misstress y/n.'

While the day dragged along in a snail-pace of time, you felt yourself doze off on the bat computer, a small trail of drool leaving a trail on the keyboard that was far too uncomfortable, but when you are fatigued, anything can be a pillow, and that stiff neck fo yours is a problem in the morning.

A shift in the air moved and circled, stirring you up from your slumber. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the luminous light that materialized in the Batcave, the wind pushing around the whirlpool of light as a tall, a dark shadow exited out. Staying up on numb legs, you felt the same pull you felt with Bruce, a warm safe space that drew you two always closer.

'Bruce?' you asked cautiously as you paused. The shadow you saw his features, the sharp hairstyle that was always in place, his tall and muscled build that was engraved in your mind. You knew that was him. Moving to him, you felt a wave of relief wash over you but another one followed, disappointment.

'Where were you?! We were worried sick about your stupid ass! How could you not tell me that you were making a goddamn portal in the house, Bruce!' you directed your words at him, the light of the rustled and shined over his taller-than-usual figure but nonetheless, you continued, 'And don't think for a fact you went to another universe that means I will get any sympathy from me. You are sleeping on the couch for the next 3 weeks.'

As the portal began to size down the light shimmered down you step back letting yourself catch a breath, sure you were mad but you were also glad that he was alive.

With the portal gone, the shadow started to dissipate bringing back the man you loved. You waited, a small smile on your face as you heard him speak a few shades deeper than what you know 'You were right. She is a firecracker.' Stepping back few more steps at the unfamiliar tone you watched a shape move behind him tall as him, same as him, did Bruce duplicate?

Leaning on the Bat computer, ready to press the button on the keyboard to call the remainder of the Bat Family you watched carefully as one moved closer to you, revealing... Bruce, your Bruce with a small smile.

'Sorry I was gone, dalrin.''

'Bruce, what is going on?'

'I met someone along the way.' Bruce steps for you to see the man that you talked to, with one confident step the man steps to you, his features coming to light, grey hair styled in a way that not even the wind could move one strand, his blue eyes decorated with wrinkles and his smile eerily identical to Bruce's looking at them side by side it struck you

'Love, this is my father, Thomas Wayne. In the universe I stumbled upon was a universe where my father was the Batman, and I was shot that night.'

Thomas smiled warmly at you, offering a hand to shake 'It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. L/n. Bruce has told me a great deal about you.' Shaking his strong hand, you think

What a great first impression. First, I thought he was Bruce and second I gave him an earful. What a great first impression.

'It is great to meet you, Dr. Wayne. I apologize for my actions beforehand, I thought you were Bruce and wel-'

'No worries about that. It is great to know that my son has someone who keeps him in check.' He spoke as you awkwardly laughed it off.

Bruce stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist 'Let's try this one more time. Father, this is Y/n, she is the love of my life, and the woman I wish to marry and spend the rest of my life.'

It's your time to be shocked yet again. You and Bruce never talked about it, only joking about being called Mrs.Wayne but he never communicated his desire to get married. Thomas glimpsed at the two of you, Bruce stood proudly with you while you tried your best to conceal your red cheeks and shocked eyes at his claims 'You better treat her right, son.' Thomas spoke

'He does, Dr. Wayne.'

You uttered, looking at the alternative universe father-in-law as Bruce examined your expression and in that moment, he felt himself fall in love yet again with you.

'How about we grab a bite? I am sure that Dr. Wayne would appreciate a good breakfast.'

Thomas nodded his head in agreement, beaming 'I'd love that, but y/n, no need for formalities. Call me Thomas. I haven't been a doctor in decades.'

'Sure. Thomas.'

Grabbing Bruce's hand you three exit the Batcave and head to the living room.

Strolling into the living room, you smelt Alfred's mouthwatering breakfast, scented the familiar maple syrup, and took notice of the sizzling bacon.

'I am bringing our guests.' You announced and Alfred cracked a smile as he watched you bring Bruce into the dining room where Damian was already seated. Alfred placed the lofty breakfast on the table. Pivoted to Bruce switching into scolding mode 'Now, young Master, I think we could have a great and lenghty chat about what goes in the Batcave.'

As Bruce stood behind you, Thomas' voice boomed into the ear of the butler 'I agree, Pennyworth. He surely needs that talk."

Alfred froze when he heard that voice. His eyes caught onto Thomas and he felt and thought that he was dead, joining the afterlife as there was no way that the deceased Thomas Wayne was standing before him.

'Master Wayne?' Alfred weaved quietly towards the man, and Thomas smiled 'Hello, old friend.'

He spoke, grabbing the longtime friend into a bone-crushing hug. Smiling at the interaction, Damian stood from his seat, walking towards his alternative universe grandfather 'So by my conclusion…you are my grandfather?'

Thomas stepped and crouched down to his eye level, smiling 'Yes, but I am. From another world.'

'I figured as much.'

Thomas looked at Damian and Bruce, his gaze shifting from one to another 'The resemblance is uncanny. He is your and y/n's copy.'

You felt yourself freeze as you interrupted him 'Thomas, he isn't mine. I--i mean he is my son but he didn't come from my stomach. Damian's mother is a leader of a group of assassins.'

Thomas stood up, watching his son 'You cheated, son?'

Bruce shook his head 'Father, no. Damian's mother and I met before me and y/n. Damian's mother was a --'

'She is a cold-hearted assassin who doesn't care about me or my well-being.' Damian cut in, saying what he considered his mother.

Thomas looks to the side, a bit shy about this situation, thanks Bruce.

Alfred coughs dryly, breaking the tension 'Let us all sit for a nice breakfast.'

Sitting next to Bruce you saw his smile, his true smile. The one reserved for you, comfort moments you both encountered and made, a smile that told you he felt at peace.

As everyone ate you desired to ask questions your father-in-law 'So Thomas, what do you think about Bruce being this world's Batman?'

Thomas looks at you a slight smile 'I always believed in the multiverse, and I alwats hoped that in one of them my son is alive and living his life. Being Batman, I suppose, is a part of the Wayne lineage, but what I mostly hold important in my heart is that my son is happy.' And he smiles bigger. 'And I can see that he truly is.’

Blushing at Thomas' words you looked at Bruce, your eyes twinkling with love while his blue irises showered you in silent praise 'I definitely am.'

Damian whispers to Thomas 'Thanks a lot. Now they will make-out in front of us.' Thomas laughs, whispering in the exact low tone 'That's good. It's better than to fight, besides, Martha adn I were the same. Always in love, never apart.'

Bruce turns to Damian saying slyly, 'You are aware that you are across the table, and not 40 meters away, Damian. We can still hear you.'

Damian rolls his eyes, playfully but nonetheless taking his grandfather's words to heart. It is definitely better for them to be in love and not fight. 'I have to feed Bat-Cow. Y/n, will you help me? I am too short to get the ball of hay.'

Smiling you stand up, leaving with Damian. Alfred, Thomas, and Bruce stayed at the table.

'Bat-Cow?' Thomas asked, perplexed, while his hands tingled

'No worries, Master Wayne. Thankfully, it is not a hybrid of a cow and bat; it is just a plain cow with an artistic name.' Alfred spoke

'Father, stay.' Bruce blurred out, declaring the thing he wished he would receive an optimistic answer to

'Bruce... I can't. If I stay long enough, my universe will disappear. Besides, if I did.... I don't want you to grieve all over again.'

'Believe me, Master Wayne...Master Bruce still grieves to this day.'

Thomas stands up from his seat, hugging his son 'I love you, Bruce. There is no need to grieve anymore. It won't change anything. You have no idea how much it brings me happiness to see you happy with Alfred, your son, and Y/n.’ Thomas didn't let Bruce stand up, not to see the small pixel-like specs encircling Thomas' legs. Alfred noticed the scene but stayed silent.

'When I see you looking at your son and Y/n I see myself and my life I had before that night. And it makes me so happy to see it. I know that it can be better. You make me proud every day, and will continue to do so."

The pixels reached Bruce's eyesight, standing up to look at hIs father, Bruce weakly said 'Stay...please.'

'It's not me to decide but I am happy I had a nice meal with your family.'

Kissing his forehead, Thomas dissipated back into his universe. Bruce looks at Alfred a small tears escaping his eye. The two men stand up, hugging each other, leaning on this moment. Bruce wanted to talk to his father more to make up for the lost and stolen time. It was time that he wanted nothing more than to be a son again. Alfred wanted to talk more to Thomas about Bruce. To tell him how he has matured, how he traveled the world and yet came back home, in Gotham, to make the city shine brighter than ever. To tell him how Bruce keeps an engagement ring for y/n ever since she moved into the manor but is not sure when to pop the question.

Both Bruce and Alfred wanted to tell him about their path of trying to grasp at straws to find justice in this forsaken town.

Pulling away from the hug Alfred spoke, 'As you can see, your father is proud at you. And I believe that goes for every Thomas Wayne in any alternative universe.'

Bruce looked at Alfred, nodding in confirmation 'I do believe that but I also am proud of the father that raised me as well. The one standing in front of me.'

Alfred's eyes twinkled in appreciation no words needed to be spoken at that response, there simply weren't those words that could how Alfred felt in this moment.

Steps echo closer and closer as you come back, with no sight of Thomas.

'Is he gone?' You ask, seeing Bruce walk to you, a smile on his face.

Bruce nods, hugging you, Feeling a bit sad at not being able to say goodbye to your father-in-law you ask Bruce 'How are you feeling?'

Pulling away Bruce chuckles 'Good. This moment made me realize some things. About my family.'

Bruce understood. The reason he went into that portal and brought his father here, it was a shifting moment for him, a moment to bring him in a more grateful state, he knew how lucky he was to have Alfred as his father figure, his son, and you, possibly his future fiancee.

That is until he pops the question.

Hope you enjoyed it!

#imagine #robert pattinson batman #batman one shot #batman imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc x reader #justice leauge imagine #justice league #batman x reader #thomas wayne #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #dribble

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devilfic · 1 year

Note

Don’t know if you are taking requests but maybe battinson and reader doing their mbti test, and reader getting a villain personality.

lmfao

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: implied sexual content but no body parts mentioned. words: 894.

a/n: gratuitous amount of italics here. not sorry. implied sub!bruce but that's not what this is about. also, anon, guess who ELSE has a villain personality type according to google :)

who's gonna tell him

You probably know he’s not really listening. With the wrench between his teeth, fingers straining to reach into the void of his engine and find where the Batmobile had gone unresponsive, he’s only half present. Maybe a third at best. Still, he enunciates through the metal, already forgetting what you'd called him, “INT...C? What does that mean?”

“I-N-T-J. You’re the architect. It means you’re introverted, intuitive, thinking, and judging. You’re good at problem solving and detective work, of course. But you struggle emotionally and are prone to being… ‘socially clueless’.” From your spot in the driver’s seat, Bruce makes a show of leaning around the propped up hood just to be clear on how much he disapproves. He even removes the wrench with his oil-slick hand so he can frown properly. “I didn’t write this, babe. Don’t look at me.”

“You’re reading it to me.”

“I just wanted to know if we’d be compatible!”

He huffs, having found what ever kink in the machine he was looking for and focusing on that instead. He disappears behind the hood but his voice carries through the terminus loud and clear, “Well, are we?”

You decide to do some research.

Somewhere between Bruce triumphing over the engine and coming around to the window to gloat, he catches you staring incredulously at your phone.

“What's the verdict? Are we sworn enemies?” Your eyes dart up to Bruce’s and the longer you stare at him, picking him apart in silence, the more his smile begins to fade. For a second, he starts to think you actually might be sworn enemies. For a millisecond, he starts to care.

"I took the test." You declare, voice freakishly even. Bruce isn't smiling anymore.

"And?"

"I got ENTJ."

"And?"

"We're compatible, sure, whatever," Bruce squints, confused, because you'd been more excited to know the answer to that than he was, "but then I fell down this rabbit hole—I wanted to see who we shared personalities with—and then I found this article. Guess what we are?"

You turn your phone to him. You've pulled up a web result for “Which MBTI personality types are villains?”. In the blurb at the very top, he reads INTJ. Then he looks over at you, your eyes wide and suspicious, and he’d ask you to stop giving him that look if it wasn’t for the way your mouth starts to curl up.

You’re not suspicious. You’re impish. “We’re both villains.”

Sure enough, the other most common villain personality type is ENTJ.

Bruce thinks it’s silly, a little less silly than when you’d done his natal chart (but he’d sat and asked questions all the same, a little too invested in the bits about his childhood karma) because the quiz at least knew something about him, but silly nonetheless.

But you’re also enjoying it enough that he leans into it, feels his own lips curling up too. He folds his arms on the door and leans inside the car, casting a dark shadow over you, "I have enough bad press as it is."

You giggle. You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze, "I don't know. I think you'd be pretty sexy as a villain."

Bruce watches you through hooded eyelids and considers, for a moment, that maybe you're a little too into this. He treads the waters, wondering whether you'll show your hand. He digs through his memory for what you'd called him, the other thing that had actually stuck, “The architect and…”

“The commander.” You finish, jutting your chin up with pride.

“Sounds about right.”

“I'll be the one in control, and you'll be my pretty little mastermind making everything happen.”

“Sounds sort of right.”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’? You’re a slave to my every whim.”

“Oh, I'm your slave now?" Bruce drops an octave with intention, delighting in your fingernails biting into his muscles. "Since when?"

Your eyes fucking twinkle. You look so excited that he fleetingly wonders if he should keep an eye on you. And he imagines you’d enjoy having him bested, kneeling at your feet as you unmask him and lean in and grin and declare, victorious- “Haven’t you always been?”

Your breath on his lips hasn’t even cooled before he’s leaning into the car and craning your mouth up to meet his, a hand at your jaw and the other keeping him propped through the window.

He imagines too, just for fun, leaning into a getaway car to celebrate a job well done, before coming around the side to jet off into the sunset. A real Bonnie and Clyde.

He feels you tugging on his shoulders and leaning back into the driver’s seat, compelling him to follow. You almost drag him fully through the window (a feat that’s only possible because he’s basically putty in your hands right now), and he grips the center console to steady himself before he falls in and crushes you, “The car’s been fixed all of two minutes and you wanna defile it already?” Bruce accuses, not actually caring in the slightest.

You’re awful. Your eyes still twinkle beneath the innocent flutter of your eyelashes, clearly still on villains and evil plans and whatever images you’d conjured up in your brain after calling him your slave. What ever happened to not mixing business with pleasure? “Come on, Batman. Don't be such a prude."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman one shot #batman scenarios #the batman scenarios #the batman x reader #batman fluff #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #mjwrites

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jesuispatrick · 1 year

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more than words can say - Batman x reader

Summary: your a valuable member of the league and someone accuses you of being a traitor.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I have decide to go in a complete different direction and write for batman. I will also be writing for other DC characters too such as night wing. I have no clue if there is still a community for these fanfics so please let me know if you like it :)

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As a member of the Justice League, I felt an immense sense of pride and accomplishment. I had spent years training to perfect my powers and become an integral part of the team. My unique abilities allowed me to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air, giving me a versatility that was unmatched by most.

I had first discovered my powers as a child, and with the help of my parents, who were also gifted with extraordinary abilities, I learned to control them. As I grew older, I honed my skills through rigorous training and countless battles against evildoers who threatened the safety of innocent people.

My reputation as a formidable superhero eventually caught the attention of the Justice League, and they extended an invitation for me to join their ranks. It was a dream come true, and I was determined to prove myself as a valuable member of the team.

I took a seat at the long table in the conference room of the Watchtower, the Justice League's orbital headquarters. The room was spacious and dimly lit, with large windows that offered a stunning view of the Earth below. The table was made of sleek, black marble and was surrounded by high-tech chairs that seemed to conform to the body of whoever sat in them.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his broad shoulders tense with worry. His usually warm smile was replaced with a grave expression, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the faces of each member of the League with a sense of urgency.

The Watchtower hummed with the sound of the powerful engines that kept it aloft, and the only other noise in the room was the soft beeping of the high-tech equipment that surrounded us. The sense of gravity and importance was palpable in the air as Superman began to speak.

Superman stood at the head of the table, his expression serious. ‘We've discovered a traitor among us," he said, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "Someone on the inside has been leaking information to our enemies. We need to find out who it is before they do more damage."

A feeling of unease crept over me as I listened to Superman lay out the details of the mission. Green Lantern sat across from me, his cold stare adding to the tension in the room. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring into me. I was grateful for the opportunity to contribute to the mission, but the accusation that someone among us was a traitor left me on edge. The sudden tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel Hal’s mistrust directed towards me.

"As the meeting came to an end, Hal wasted no time in confronting me. "You're the one we should be watching," he said, his voice dripping with suspicion. "I don't trust you."

Hal’s words stung, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had always thought we were on the same team, fighting for the greater good. The idea that he saw me as a threat or a traitor was beyond comprehension.

"I can't believe you're accusing me of this," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I've dedicated my life to this cause, just like you."

But Green Lantern remained resolute, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at me. "You've always been a wildcard, with those elemental powers of yours. Who's to say you're not using them for your own gain?"

Before I could even begin to respond, Hal launched himself at me with a powerful construct of energy. My heart pounded as Green Lantern's fists crackled with green energy and he charged towards me. I braced myself, summoning my powers to control the elements of water, fire, earth, and air. We clashed, our powers colliding in a spectacular display of energy.

I sent a blast of water towards Lantern, but he deflected it with a shield of energy. He countered with a barrage of green energy beams, which I dodged by shifting the earth beneath my feet. The ground rumbled as I caused a fissure to open up between us, and Lantern jumped back to avoid falling in.

We circled each other, each looking for an opening to strike. I summoned a gust of wind to try and throw him off balance, but he countered with a construct of energy that knocked me off my feet. I tumbled backwards, but quickly regained my footing.

Hal charged at me again, this time with a construct of energy that resembled a giant fist. I summoned a wall of earth to block it, but the force of the impact sent me flying backwards. I landed hard on the ground, feeling the wind knocked out of me.

I struggled to get back up, but Green Lantern was on me in an instant. He grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off the ground, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think you can take me down?" he snarled.

With a surge of willpower, I summoned a fierce blaze of fire around my body, causing Green Lantern to release me in surprise. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to send a barrage of rocks hurtling towards him, however, before the lantern could deliver another blow to me Batman was the first to reach my side, shielding me from Green Lantern's attack.

"Back off, Lantern," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "We're all on the same team here."

Lantern hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between me and Batman. I could see the doubt and confusion in his expression as he weighed his options. The tension in the room was thick and heavy, and everyone watched in anticipation, waiting for the next move.

Suddenly, a burst of green energy erupted from Green Lantern's ring, catching Batman off guard. The Dark Knight was sent flying across the room, crashing into the wall with a loud thud. I winced as I saw him hit the wall and immediately tried to run to his side, but Green Lantern blocked my path. "You're not going anywhere," he snarled, his ring glowing with a dangerous intensity.

But before he could make another move, a bolt of lightning struck him, sending him staggering backwards. The Flash appeared beside me, his hand crackling with electricity. He stood in front of me, ready to protect me from any further attacks.

"You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us," he said, his voice laced with determination.

With Hal momentarily stunned, I saw my chance to strike. I called upon the elements once more, sending a blast of fire towards him. The flames engulfed him, forcing him to the ground.

As he struggled to get back up, Wonder Woman lassoed him with her golden lasso, restraining him. He began to struggle against the bonds. "Wait...stop!" he yelled. "I didn't mean to betray the team. It wasn't my choice."

The members exchanged a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?" Superman demanded.

Green Lantern took a deep breath, his eyes focusing on the heroes around him. "I was brainwashed," he explained. "Our enemies, they...they got to me. They made me do it."

The room was silent as everyone processed this information. Batman stepped forward, his expression hard. "Who did this to you?" he demanded.

Hal hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously between the heroes. "I don't know. They wore masks, and their voices were distorted. They...they said they had leverage over me, that they could hurt my family."

Superman placed a hand on Green Lantern's shoulder. "We'll help you, Hal,” he said, "We'll find out who did this to you and put a stop to it."

The rest of the Justice League nodded in agreement, their expressions determined. As they led Hal away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. While the revelation was shocking, it was a relief to know that one of our own hadn't turned against us willingly.

I stood up and winced when I tried to put pressure on my right leg. "Let's get you to the medic bay," Batman said, his voice calm but urgent. "You may have a sprain or a fracture. We need to make sure you're okay."

Batman guided you through the hallways of the Watchtower, his grip firm but gentle. You leaned into him for support, grateful for his strength. As you limped along, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in his presence.

Arriving at the med bay, Batman helped me onto one of the beds and fetched a medical kit. As Batman continued to patch up my injuries in the med bay, he paused for a moment and looked into my eyes. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice serious. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I just didn't know how."

I looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"I care about you," he said, his voice low and intense. "More than I should. You have a way of getting under my skin, and I can't help but want to protect you at all costs."

My heart skipped a beat at his confession, realising the depth of his feelings for me. "Bats," I said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, his eyes fixed on mine. "Just know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Looking into his eyes through his mask, I leaned in and kissed him, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled be so I was flushed against his hard suit. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him even closer if that was possible.

Suddenly Bruce stopped and his head whipped up and he noticed a blur of red and yellow out of the corner of his eye. "Flash, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone slightly annoyed.

I turned my head around and saw Flash stumble to a stop, his hands held up in a placating gesture. "Whoa, sorry Bats," he said, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything important."

I blushed, feeling embarrassed that we had been caught in a vulnerable moment. Batman turned to me, his expression softening. "It's all right," he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "We can continue this later."

Flash's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Ooh, is there something going on between you two?" he teased, winking at me.

Batman shot him a stern look. "That's none of your business, Flash," he said firmly. "Now, do you have a reason for being here or are you just here to make bad jokes?"

Flash sobered up quickly, remembering the reason for his visit. "Right, sorry. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after the fight."

Batman nodded in acknowledgement. "We're both fine," he said, gesturing to me. "Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing serious."

Flash grinned. "That's good to hear. Well, I'll leave you two to it. Catch you later, Bats."

After Flash left, Batman turned back to me and gave me a small smile. "Where were we?" he asked, his voice low and intense.

I smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spreading through my body at his words. "Right here," I replied, leaning in for another kiss.

As we kissed, I could feel the strength of his love for me in every touch, in every movement. It was as if we were the only two people in the world, completely focused on each other.

Eventually, we pulled away from each other, both breathing heavily. Batman rested his forehead against mine and looked deep into my eyes. "I meant what I said earlier," he said softly. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. You mean everything to me."

I smiled, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "And you mean everything to me," I replied, reaching up to touch his masked face. "I love you, Bruce."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling underneath the mask. "I love you too," he said, his voice full of emotion. "More than words can say."

We stood there, lost in each other's gaze, feeling as if we were the only two people in the world. For that moment, nothing else mattered but our love for each other.

#batman x reader #dc batman #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #fanfic #batman fluff #batman fanfiction #batman comics #Batman one shot #Bruce Wayne one shot #young justice #justice league #dick grayson #nightwing #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x reader

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davidlcki · 1 year

Note

christmas!battinson?! kissing under the mistletoe? snow fights in the garden? baking cookies? PLEASE

wayne manor christmas

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH THANK YOU ANON THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! happy early holidays everyone! i hope you all enjoy, although my writing skills aren’t at 100% currently.

pairing: pattinson! bruce wayne/ reader

warnings: none :)

you woke up this morning with a start. bruce however was not ready to get up, moaning tiredly as you roll over on top of his sleeping figure.

“bruce! come on let’s get up!” you whisper shout as you card your fingers through his black hair. he opens one eye to peer down at you.

“what’s the occasion?” he asks sarcastically, his voice was low and hoarse from sleep. you roll your eyes and sit up, tugging him by his arm until he unwillingly stands up. once he was on his feet and you smothered him with kisses, he began to perk up and even show you one of his rare smiles. what made this morning better was the snow that was steadily falling outside. it was christmas morning and you were too eager to head downstairs and exchange presents with bruce.

“here’s yours my good sir” you hand the present to him gracefully and watch eagerly as he rips off the wrapping. his eyes visibly light up as he observes your gift to him. it was an expensive watch that he had been eyeing for MONTHS but never got around to buying.

“my watch! i love it, thank you honey” bruce kisses your lips gently and you could feel him smile against you. “here, open yours”

you open the present quickly, too excited to see what lies inside. once pulling the box open, you were met with the most beautiful necklace you’d ever seen. he knew your taste perfectly. you were too afraid to ask how much it cost.

“bruce! it’s beautiful, thank you!” you nearly knock him backwards as you throw your arms around him and kiss him all over for the second time that day. the two of you spent another hour, talking and opening your smaller gifts for each other. before deciding to bake cookies for the christmas party you were hosting tonight.

“do we really have to host the party?” bruce asks, to which alfred gives a glare.

“yes, master wayne. it would be good for you to connect with some old friends, don’t you think?”

“plus we can show off our christmas decorations” you give an encouraging smile and pull out the christmas cookie ingredients.

baking took a lot longer than it should have. you were either throwing flour at each other, or shielding the raw dough from bruce who would have eaten it all if you let him. but alas, you eventually got the cookies baking in the oven.

“mission accomplished!” you high five bruce, which creates a cloud of flour. bruce had white handprints all over his clothes, and on his nose and cheeks.

“you got a little something” you point at your own nose, and bruce gives you a scowl.

“really? i didn’t notice” he throws sarcasm at you, and sticks his hand into the pile of flour on the counter. before you could react, he had rubbed it all down your face and shirt.

“oh my god!” you smack his hands away and gasp with shock, although a smile was tugging at your lips.

the two of you ended up showering while the cookies baked, and by the time you were finished getting ready, people were arriving for the party. you and bruce were in ugly christmas sweaters that you insisted would be cute to wear as you greeted guests that arrived. you enjoyed catching up with old friends, and even though bruce wasn’t enthusiastic, you could tell he enjoyed the socializing at least a little bit.

you both had an overwhelming feeling of normalcy, not having to worry about crime in the city as much, it seemed batman’s presence had really made it die down. it felt good to be able to breathe, and have something as normal as a party.

an hour in, the two of you were socially drained. you stood off under a wide doorframe, lost in a conversation that you didn’t have to force out like around guests. suddenly, bruce looks up. furrowing your brows, you follow his gaze and notice a mistletoe hanging above the two of you. you look back at him, giving him that ‘really?’ stare, along with a playful smile.

“did you plan this?” you cock your head to the side, bruce copies your head tilt and steps closer to you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” he shrugs and places a hand on your waist. his other hand gracefully balanced a wine glass. you on the other hand, nearly spilled your drink down his back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you connected your lips with his, the kiss was passionate, a kiss reserved for when it’s just you and him (how convenient that the mistletoe is just out of the party’s eye?). no matter how long you’ve known bruce, every kiss felt like the first with him. the sparks never fade, but only grow stronger. hell, you felt like a highschooler.

the party flew by quickly with the help of being tipsy, and when you gave your farewells to all the guests you noticed the snow outside. the light from the moon bounced off of the powdery substance and you guessed there was maybe 2-3 feet of snow now. you gave bruce the look, and he immediately shook his head no.

“please!!” you clasp your hands together and show puppy eyes in a silent beg, and bruce quickly gives in.

in an instant you were in your winter clothes and out into the night, trudging through the snow filled garden with a childlike wonder in your eyes. you turned to bruce to speak to him, but were instantly met with a snowball to the shoulder. you gasp in fake shock, and you suddenly felt like you were in a gunslinger stand off. the two of you made eye contact, waiting to see who would make the first move. quickly, you run behind a bush and begin to create snowballs that you hurled at bruce. you managed to dodge (most of) them, but when you popped up from your bush again, you noticed he was gone. carefully, you creep through the garden, armed with two snowballs.

“bruuuuuuceeeee” you sing out teasingly, tossing the snowball up and down in your gloved hand. before you could even react, bruce pops out from behind a tree and charges at you. you manage to throw one snowball before he gets to you, and sends the two of you crashing to the ground. you let out a scream, followed by laughter from the both of you. you take a breath to calm down, but fall into a fit again at the sight of bruce’s face absolutely covered in snow.

“oh that’s funny?” he teases, grabbing your face and shaking the snow off of him onto you.

“hey, hey!!!” you grab his own face to stop him, the two of you were now dripping with melted snow. you kiss one of the snowflakes off of his cheek near the corner of his mouth, and when you pull back he catches you in another kiss on the lips. you smile against him and kiss back eagerly.

“can we go back inside now?” bruce’s voice was shaking slightly as he smiled at you, and it made you aware of how cold you were yourself.

“good idea”

#bruce wayne x reader #battinson #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #batman imagine #batman one shot #the batman #bruce wayne #batman #pattinson!bruce wayne #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson one shot #robert pattinson #fanfiction

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empresskylo · 2 years

Text

𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

✓𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗱

・❥・ Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman x Female!Reader ・❥・ Series Summary: It happened a while ago: the day you stumbled into the batman. And ever since, he seemed to pop up exactly when you needed him. You thought it was stupid to try and be his friend. He thought it was dangerous to let you in. Both of you did it anyway. ・❥・ Rating: Explicit — eventual smut, violence, blood, eventual romance, slow burn, friends to lovers ・❥・ Word Count: 22,921

chapters Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11

「 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 」

*•.¸♡main masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ᳝ ࣪ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ֗ ִ ᳝ ࣪ ִ ۫ ˑ

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

So Good | Bruce Wayne x gn!reader (🍋)

@spicyveganfun asked: “How badly do you wana cum” with Bruce Wayne and a Dom bottom reader pretty please 🙏🏾

summary: Bruce fucking loves it when you take control

tws: anal, anal fingering, praise!kink, mentions of choking/collars and leads/spanking/hair pulling/edging

notes: top!Bruce, bottom!reader, dom!reader, sub!Bruce

word count: 812

MINORS DNI OR YOU’LL GET BLOCKED

Bruce had just finished lubing up your ass after spending a little while stretching it with just his fingers and tongue, letting his fingers delve in once again as he made sure that he applied enough lube, eager to please you in any way that he could as he held onto your every command and followed it with a certain excitement; his cock was aching to be buried in your ass, and when you finally bent over the bed, he thought that his time had, at last, arrived.

“Come on, then,” you wiggled your ass a little, waiting for him to hold onto your hips and gently ease himself into you before you pushed back. “Oh, fuck, that’s it.”

Slowly, he started to thrust into you, but when you demanded that he go faster and harder, he was once more eager to please, starting to pound into you; praises fell from your lips, and he couldn’t help but to moan each time, watching how you grabbed the bed sheets tightly and moaned his name. Bruce loved to submit to you, to let you boss him around and tell him what to do, probably even more than he loved to hear you praise him, to call him your good boy. He could actually let himself loose, to give up some control.

“Is this okay?” He asked, his voice a mere whine as you pushed your ass back and gave a good roll of your hips.

“Yeah, this is good,” you moaned, only spurring him on. “Fuck, keep hitting that spot! Good boy!”

Bruce stuttered out a harsh growl as he continued to pound into you, filling your ass with his cock so much that you couldn’t even think of anything else; he was truly buried inside of you, and you couldn’t have been happier about it, either. You both had the safeword well and truly cemented, Leopard, and you both knew that you could use it if need be.

“Fuck, harder!” You yelped, and when he picked up the pace and started fucking you so roughly that you lurched forward with each thrust, you couldn’t help but to loudly praise him - almost shouting as you felt that familiar burn that came with rough sex. “You’re being so fucking good, Bruce!”

Bruce couldn’t help but to smile, picking up the pace yet again, his grip on your hips tightening and becoming harder, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he kept at it; with each thrust he delivered, you pushed back, and he couldn’t help but to moan and whimper your name loudly, hardly able to control himself as he fucked you into that bed, spurred on by your sweet and kind praises and the way you bossed him around. Fuck me harder, fuck me faster, fuck me deeper. He loved it, he needed it; it was better than when you choked him or pulled on his hair or made him wait for your say-so to cum. It was better than when you put him on a collar and lead and spanked his ass til it was raw and red with your handprints. He couldn’t help but to love the way you so easily dominated him.

“Please don’t make me beg, (y/n),” he whimpered, still fucking into you harshly as he licked his lips, his voice going a little hoarse.

You smiled into the mattress as you leaned your sticky and sweaty forehead against your forearms, pushing your ass back against him with each little movement that he made. “You’re being so fucking good, I think I’ll ask you when you wanna cum.”

“Please,” he whined, the word spilling from his lips like a dropped glass. Flooding the room.

You loved his little whines, the way he was so fucking submissive when you were fucking him. “How badly do you wanna cum, baby boy?”

“Very,” Bruce admitted with a harsh moan when you rolled your hips a certain way. “Please, I wanna cum so badly.”

You couldn’t say no to him, not when he was so fucking close to begging for you let him fill your ass with his cum, so you rolled your hips again, and chuckled. “You can cum when you’re… oh, fuck… when you’re ready.”

You had to admit, you weren’t far away from it yourself, and when he started rutting into you, his pace getting sloppy and a little messy, you could feel yourself start to cum alongside him; using his release to chase your own until you could feel yourself finally cumming as he filled your ass, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out strings of stuttered praises, spurring him on until he was putting his hands either side of your head and panting heavily, completely spent.

“Oh, you’re so fucking good,” you praised with a soft hum. “So fucking good.”

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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months

Text

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane.

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?” He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room), starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?”

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in.

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting.

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right.

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him.

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes.

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-”

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

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feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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fandomfuntimem · 7 days

Text

"There are more of us than you think"

The ghost boy floated infront on Batman. All he wanted was to offer this kid some help. He has been deffending this town for a little over two years now with no help. So Batman just thought offering some training and other teen heros to help would be nice. But all he was met with was a cold hard stare. It wasn't a lookxof hatred, or anger, just disappointment.

"What?" He asked. For once in his life he didn't get it. What did he mean? 'There are more of us' more half ghosts like him? Multiples of him?

"What I mean Batman, is there are far more teen heros than you think. There are so many kids who were left to deffend their homes by themselves. I'm in contact with plenty of people like me. I don't need your charity work. We dont need it," Phantom took a deap breth, "so many kids had to save the world while the Justice League sat back and did nothing. Ben Tennyson has been saving the world since he was ten, a child soldier and the only effective weapon the Plumbers have. The Ninja over in Norrisville was given his powers at fourteen. Max Steel was fused with an alien and born with nuclear levels of power. The list goes on bats. Kim Possible, Jenny, Generator Rex, Zak Saturday. We all did just fine without you and your League."

Batman was speechless. That many? That many kids left to deffend their homes? Phantom obviously seemed to have contact with them, maybe they help eachother out, but still. How did the Justice League not know?

Phantom disappeared and left Batman to ponder his words alone. How many world ending events did thease kids fight? How many of them did they fight alone? How much help did each of them have? Phantom only has a niche group of allies, how small are their support groups?

He'll have to research this when he returns to the bat cave. Hopefully he can get all thease kids get the help they need. Set up Zeta Tubes in their cities, and end this awful epidemic of teen heros.

#dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dcxdp #ben ten #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #max steel #kim possible #my life as a teenage robot #zak saturday #generator rex #prompt #writing #one shot #batman #dc comics #text post

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 1 year

Text

Social Media AU: Y/n Wayne loves "Big Boy" Baseball

Other Social Media AU Big Boys:

STEVE ROGERS

CLARK KENT

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devilfic · 1 year

Note

could you do some more stuff on bruce with reader and dick ? the christmas one was ADORABLE AND I JUST CANT HANDLE okay thanks

a/n: you were probably hoping for something fluffy and I APOLOGIZE but I also really wanted to explore the relationship you'd have with dick when you first take him in and show how he grows to trust you ;-;;;;

imagine that it’s right after you and bruce take in dick. he’s angry, he’s grieving, he’s cold. it’s been a rough few weeks since the deaths of his parents. you and bruce had thought about having kids one day but it was never the right time, not until that night when it all happened and bruce looked at you and you just knew.

and then you’d somehow convinced this kid (this kid who looked the spitting image of your husband already, like he was destined to be yours) to let you keep him. not to be his parents because you could never replace john and mary grayson, but to give him a safe place to stay. dick is too young to be this angry but he agrees because he can’t find his parents’ killer when he’s too busy hopping from foster home to foster home with no end in sight.

and you expect that it’ll take time but it doesn’t make his rejection hurt any less. he never stays in the room long enough to talk to either of you, and when he does, he’s always asking about the investigation. it breaks your heart every time to tell him the gcpd are still looking, following leads that you both have a feeling lead nowhere. they don’t know where tony zucco is. you can see the frustration growing in him and the resentment too.

you try to be there because bruce can’t. how can he? he’s so busy looking, chasing those same leads as the bat every night. it makes it harder for dick to trust bruce. he’s a stranger to him. always working, never home. as far as dick was concerned, bruce didn’t give a rat’s ass about finding his parents’ murderer. but every night, from sundown to sun up, your husband was scouring the streets for the man that had ruined dick’s life. but you can’t tell dick that part. bruce isn’t ready.

and one night, it’s storming. it’s not uncommon in gotham but you feel your stomach flip at a crack of thunder. something pulls you out of your sleep, out of your empty bed and down the hall to dick’s room. the door is always shut and locked but now it’s cracked open. a peek inside and he’s nowhere to be found. your stomach drops at another crack of thunder.

you tear the penthouse apart and even alfred can’t tell you when he’d last seen him. it’s then that you notice his coat and shoes are gone, and you’re out the door with barely enough time to get dressed or to heed alfred’s warning.

your instincts are telling you that wherever he is, and god forbid he’s in a ditch somewhere with the kind of types that hang around the city this late, he’s close. even if you can’t see him. you keep searching the skies as if you’ll find him there when the bat signal flips on, and you realize that all this time, your instincts have been leading you right to it.

you reach the top of the building and find dick there, staring off into the sky, and you can’t help but demand to know what he was thinking running off like that. what if he’d gotten hurt or worse? what if you’d lost him for good?

and he’s got this look on his face like he’s freezing and doesn’t want you to notice because then you’ll just cover him in your coat and freeze too. because you would and have. you would do anything to protect him. “you won’t help me.”

“that’s not true, dick. these things take time. trust me, the gcpd is doing everything they can to find that man. we’re not letting zucco get away with what he did to your parents. you have to believe me.”

dick’s scoffing at you. If he wasn’t so small, still chubby-cheeked and rosy, his snark would put him beyond your years, “the police won’t find him. batman will.”

dick doesn’t know how right he is but you try to steer him away, telling him that batman is a vigilante and that there’s no way to prove if you can trust him, but it’s like everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. at some point, you tell him that bruce would be home soon and seeing dick missing would tear him up inside and, without missing a beat, dick tells you “he’d have to be around to care.”

and how do you reconcile with that? how do you make a child feel loved and cared for with nothing to show for it? nothing you can show for it?

you don’t know what you and bruce were thinking. you weren’t ready. you must have wanted to be so bad that you mistook it for something it wasn’t. dick grayson didn’t need new parents. he’d told you as much the minute you’d offered to take him in. of course he’d run away. as far as dick was concerned, all you’d given him was a pretty house to mourn in.

you almost forget why you’re up here.

dick spots him before you do, the dark knight, and from where you’re kneeling you can imagine what he must look like to a child. a boogeyman or an angel, something other than human. dick runs at him as if he’s all that and more. completely enamored. bruce can’t ask with dick there but his eyes flicker to you and you must look pitiful.

it’s just that dick is so. starstruck. you’ve never seen him like this in all the time he’s been with you. it almost feels worth it keeping the secret, then. “you came.” dick sighs.

you’re thinking about all the things bruce’s eyes are saying. he’s focused on this little boy, too afraid to look away, almost too afraid to speak. what if dick could tell? what if he mistook this for some cruel joke? but then bruce puts his hand on dick’s shoulder and would you believe it? for the first time, dick lets bruce touch him, “you called.”

“I need your help, batman.” dick pleads. you shut your eyes, unable to look at bruce or dick knowing what’s coming next. “someone took my parents away from me. I need to find him. and I need your help.”

a few moments pass. you dare crack open an eye, ready to sweep dick out of there and suffer his anger on the way home. anything to avoid seeing the inevitable heartbreak in your husband’s expression. you couldn’t take it. but you falter when you see bruce kneeling before the kid. he’s schooled his expression into something reminiscent of the symbol, the impenetrable, immovable batman, “the graysons, right? the flying graysons. you’re the kid.”

you can hear the shock in dick’s voice, “you know me?”

“I don’t forget a face,” you watch bruce smile, “or someone as talented as you. your parents were good people. I’m sorry for your loss… which is why I’m doing everything I can to find him, dick. I promise I’ll find him.”

“let me help.” bruce laughs—or gasps—at how sudden and stubborn his request is. dick immediately takes offense, “I’m not kidding.”

“no, no. I know you’re not. you just… remind me of someone. I believe you. but not just anybody can do what I do.”

“I can fight! a little. I need some training. but I’m really flexible! and I’m fast.”

“that’s good. people underestimate you when you’re small and lean.”

“how do I get superpowers like you?”

“I don’t have powers.”

“then how do you fly?”

bruce drags his cape between the two of them, eyes sparkling, “physics.”

dick doesn’t even know what that means. he still says “coooooool” like he does. “can I have a cape?”

taking dick’s hand in yours, you try your best not to say bruce’s name when you mean batman (because let’s be honest, the man in front of you is more bruce than anything—all soft eyes, tender voice, careful smiles), insisting that it’s late and way past dick’s bedtime and that you both really need to get home before this storm gets worse when dick begs batman to take you both home in his “super cool” car. and really, how can either of you refuse him?

so you keep him in your lap on the drive home, watching bruce explain what each of the little knobs and buttons do, but dick never runs out of questions. “how fast can you go?” “do you have other cars?” “does it have a name? can I name it?” bruce meets every single one of them with the breathless, youthful kind of joy you get when a child trusts you, really trusts and likes you. even if it’s not really him, it’s enough.

it must be a sight, crawling out of the batman’s car onto the sidewalk. dick clearly doesn’t want to go with his hands on the door begging to see batman again.

“you will,” bruce assures him, looking over at you for just a split second, “I promise.”

it’s days later when bruce gives you the go ahead and you take dick down into the elevator, the one you’d always told him didn’t work anymore. the first thing he sees is bruce at his desk with his cowl in his hands and that shocking black paint across his eyes, waiting with more fear than you’d seen in him fighting his greatest enemies. you don’t think he could take the rejection if this went badly.

bruce steps forward, kneels before dick, tender and vulnerable and open. dick’s shoulders tremble beneath your hands. “I think I found him, but I need your help. so no more secrets.” bruce holds out his hand, shaky and bare, “deal?”

dick is silent for a long time; lips pursed, eyes blown wide. you think he even stops breathing, his chest refusing to rise and fall. you brush a hand through his hair, whispering his name, and catch your husband’s worried eyes. was it too soon? had he scared off dick altogether?

but dick places his hand in bruce’s, so small in comparison. it’s such a shy touch that bruce doesn’t even close his hand around it, too afraid. doesn’t want to scare him. doesn’t want to indulge too much in this kid, so much like himself, finding safety and solace in him. because dick isn’t looking for parents. he wants answers, revenge, justice, whatever he called it to sleep better. and if all you and bruce could do for him is give him that closure, you would. and if dick wanted to leave when it was all said and done, you would let him do that too.

that evening, dick takes dinner with you two and alfred. you take heart in the fact that dick allows you this much. it’s one step, small as it may be, in the right direction.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat

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xmalereader · 2 months

Text

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: Could you please write Burce wayne x male reader who has trouble ordering food. Like in a restaurant when the waiter asks, he either stutters or goes completely quiet, and that's why he asks Bruce to order for him. And i would like to see Bruce's reactions when a waiter is like "you don't have to order for him. He can order for himself. I wasn't asking you, i was asking him" just the waiter assuming that Bruce is kinda controlling. The reader is silently crying in his seat, having to order on his own, like he knows the waiter was trying to do something good. (Totally not speaking from personal experience 🤭)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, mature language, social anxiety, Bruce is a good boyfriend, mentions of fears, judgment, request, relatable events, everyone struggles.

TAGS: @one-green-frog

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: I used to struggle with ordering food due to anxiety and fear of people judging me 😩 but as I got older they fear kind of went away and I’m able to do it with no problem but everyone deals with anxiety differently and takes time to get come it so I ain’t judging. It’s like that with my older brother he’s 26 and still makes me order for him due to his own anxiety. But hopefully you enjoyed this shot and apologize for the long wait!

Everyone has social anxiety.

Y/n struggled with it at a young age, not being taught how to speak with others in public without getting the intense fear of judgment from others. He figured that he would improve as he got older, but it didn’t change and still struggled with the simple things. He could go out and run errands alone without any struggles since majority of place now had self checkout which was a god send for many.

He’s able to hold a conversation with strangers or with people he knew in the area, but his anxiety would get to him when it came towards the simplest tasks. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an over thinker and would think that he did something wrong or if he perhaps pronounced something incorrect, thinking that people were judging him for the smallest things. It took time for him to improve but the anxiety still remained during important moments.

One of the easiest things that many were able to accomplish is ordering food. Their were times that he hesitated or froze up when ordering his own food, having to apologize each time he orders and forcing a nervous smile or laugh in hopes of getting through the few minutes that he is there. He struggled even more when he went out on dates.

Very few people knew about his anxiety and very few friends were kind enough to do the ordering for him without hesitation and providing the assistance that he needed. With strangers it was a whole other story, he didn’t want to force them into placing his own order due to his own fear and would struggle with speaking the words.

His dates never went well after that and hated the way he felt each time he stumbled upon the problem. If the waiter or waitress wasn’t staring at him intensely he’d probably order his food without a problem and his day would go fine. But the feeling of their eyes staring at him as he looked at his choices of food made him stutter and grow nervous when ordering.

Forcing that smile as always and getting through the day of embarrassment.

If he had this kind of anxiety how was he suppose to handle his future dates when he couldn’t do a simple task? He’s able to do a whole presentation in a room full of board of directors but he stutters and hesitates when it comes towards ordering a simple meal or even asking for help whenever he’s in public.

He figured he’d spend his days locked indoors while making his own meals while watching a good movie.

He didn’t think he’d end up bagging Bruce Wayne. Gothams Golden boy.

Y/n had thought that this was all a trick or a joke when Bruce first asked him out. He wanted to laugh at the mans face and tell him that he doesn’t need to make his life miserable by playing a mean joke, only to realize that Bruce was in fact not joking around.

Y/n worked at Wayne Enterprises but in a lower department not expecting himself to bump into Bruce Wayne and getting asked out by the man himself. Their first date was simple with a cup of coffee and muffins. He would have thought that bruce would take him someplace fancy on their first date, but when he didn’t he was a bit relieved.

Bruce was a great man and didn’t do anything that made him uncomfortable. Y/n figured that he’d only get lucky to have one date with bruce and then never see them man again, only to get asked out again and again and again. The first four months went well without any problems and enjoyed his time with Bruce as their time together grew their dates slowly got fancier.

Resulting into Y/n confessing to Bruce about his anxiety and fear of others judging him because he couldn’t do a simple task that only required a few words. He thought Bruce would laugh at him or use it against him and force him to confront his fear, instead Bruce smiled at him and asked.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

He said it with the most calmest voice ever showing no hints of judgment.

Y/n wanted to cry that night. It was a simple favor, but it meant a lot to him.

As their dates continued they created a routine each time they went out to eat. Y/n would either look up the menu online ahead of time and already have his order in mind and tell bruce before getting their orders placed. Bruce even memorized the dishes that Y/n liked whenever they went to a repeated restaurant and would for him on the spot without needing to be told what he liked, already knowing the mans interests.

A year into dating and it became a normal thing between the two.

During their one year anniversary, Bruce decided to take him to a new restaurant and getting seated in a nice secluded area and away from others. Y/n scanned the menu and hums. “This looks good.” He speaks up as he checks the different dishes until one caught his eye.

“You know the rule, order whatever you want.” Said Bruce, always reminding him that he can get whatever he wanted. Y/n was hesitant about the prices at first but with time he got adjusted to the idea of Bruce paying for everything and no matter how many times he tried to pay himself, Bruce had already paid ahead of time.

“This pasta looks good.” Y/n points out on the menu and shows Bruce who looked up form his own menu and smiles. “Is that all you want?”

“Can I also get this for dessert?” He points behind the menu where a picture of a nicely desert is presented, getting Bruce to chuckle as he nods his head. “You better share with me because I already know you won’t eat it all.” Y/n laughs at his words and sets his menu down, leaning back in his seat as he looks around the restaurant and takes in the interior, distracted by the place that he doesn’t notice the waitress coming over.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles at the women and starts with his order first, letting her know what he’d like. “And for you?” She turns her attention to Y/n who gets his attention pulled away from a painting he was staring at and looks at her with wide eyes. “I…”

“He’d have the pasta and the chocolate desert.” Bruce is quick to cut in when he noticed Y/n freeze up.

The waitress gives Bruce the stink eye by how he interrupts Y/n. “You don’t have to order for him. He can order for himself.” Bruce froze with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth in shock. “I wasn’t asking you I was asking him.” She points her pencil at Y/n and puts her attention on him.

Y/n can only gap at her, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to speak but I can’t. He was caught off guard and reached out for his menu. “I’ll like…the—the…” He’s stuttering and doesn’t know what to tell her. “Do you need another minute?” She asks which only make the situation worse, he’s turning to Bruce and staring at him with eyes full of fear and hesitation silently screaming for help.

“I assure you miss my partner would like the pasta and desert.” Bruce says again in hopes of getting her to note down the order and she does, not without rolling her eyes which only makes Y/n whine.

“Your food will be ready soon.” She said while taking their menus and walking away, leaving them in silence.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, she probably thinks you’re an asshole now.” He groans out while covering his face with his hands. Bruce can only chuckle while shaking his head and reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “Don’t be, not everyone knows about your fear and besides she was only doing it because she probably thought I was controlling.”

“You’re not!”

“She doesn’t know that. If I wanted to be asshole I would have yelled at her like other people do, but I’m not doing that. It was a simple misunderstanding.” Bruce reassured Y/n as he held his hand and smiles. He didn’t think that something like this would happen since they’ve never had this issue in the past at the other places that they visited.

“All you have to worry about is eating all of your food and sharing your desert.” Bruce tries to lighten up the mood which works for Y/n as he chuckled and nods his head. “Fine and then after we go home and watch a movie and not come back here again.” After this misunderstanding its most likely he doesn’t want to come back and face the same issue again.

“We stick with Jimmy’s…” He mumbled out, referring to his favorite restaurant that serviced amazing chicken wings and fries. Bruce laughs while nodding. “Next time we go out will go to Jimmy’s.” At this point they were already considered regulars that the owner memorized their orders, which made it better for Y/n.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x male reader #male reader #Batman #Batman x male reader #dc imagines #dc x male reader #one shot #social anxiety #request

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davidlcki · 2 years

Note

space song by beach house and bruce wayne?

maybe him and the reader are listening to it in bed because this song means so much to her (maybe because she listened to it when she had a sad era) and bruce is all on her comforting and kissing

space song

YALL HAVE THE BEST IDEAS OH MY GOD THANK YOU FOR THIS ❤️ y’all can consider this a part 2 to drive me far away but it’s not necessary to read beforehand! i apologize for how short this is, im not feeling the best and have writers block :(

pairing: pattinson! bruce wayne/ reader

warnings: reader is upset, thats it i think

it started out like most nights, you and bruce sharing an earbud, and cuddled together in bed. the two of you talked aimlessly as your phone shuffled randomly through your music. ‘space song’ by beach house came on next, causing the two of you to fall into silence. bruce knew how much you loved this song and how much it meant to you. your mind begins to wander as the lyrics run through your head.

it was late at night

you held on tight

from an empty street

a flash of light

you sigh deeply as your thoughts drift to the past, to a time before you knew bruce. arguably one of the worst times of your life, mentally and physically. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you stare up at the ceiling. bruce noticed this, and turned fully towards you. his hand gently pulls your face to look at him, his eyes staring into yours begin to pull you out of the place your mind was at. he runs his thumb over your quivering lips gently.

“you’re here now. you’re okay, everything’s okay” he reassures you. his voice was just audible over the music in your ear.

it will take a while

to make you smile

somewhere in those eyes

i’m on your side

you nod and sit up, shakily sighing the tears away. bruce sits up with you, gently pulling you onto his lap. you mindlessly wrap your legs around his waist as you observe his features. you brush his dark hair back from his forhead gently. bruce brings his hands up to cup each side of your face, carefully he pulls you towards him until your foreheads are touching. a smile crosses your face, and the memories that were beginning to consume you had drifted away in mere seconds. bruce smiles back, a rare sight for your eyes. you caress his face gently, your thumb tracing his smile lines before you close the distance and press your lips against his.

you wide-eyed girls,

you get it right

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #batman x reader #batman imagine #batman one shot #the batman #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson one shot #robert pattinson #pattinson!bruce wayne #fanfiction #dc universe

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empresskylo · 2 years

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It's Raining Vengeance - Ch. 6

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman x Female!Reader Series Summary: (Based on The Batman 2022) It happened a while ago: the day you stumbled into the batman. And ever since, he seemed to pop up exactly when you needed him. You thought it was stupid to try and be his friend. He thought it was dangerous to let you in. Both of you did it anyway. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.5k+ Note: this chapter is… ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) #smut

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Bruce tossed and turned all night, barely getting any sleep. This was a regular occurrence, he never had a refreshing night's sleep. And with his thoughts tied up with you and the fundraiser, he struggled more than usual.

At around 4:30 am he figured he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep again so he decided to get up. It was early, the sun wasn’t even out yet; he was up before Alfred, even.

He hadn’t cleaned up like Alfred told him to last night, instead, he crashed into his bed still sweaty and with his face covered in makeup.

If Bruce Wayne was to make a rare appearance today, he’d have to shower.

He sulked to his bathroom, all the window blinds shut tight as he walked in the dark.

He had really messed up this time. His fists clenched together as he replayed the night with you back in his head.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he act fucking normal?

He pictured that moment where your lips almost touched his. He had wanted to crash his to yours so badly, but even being socially deranged, he knew kissing someone who didn’t feel that way about you was wrong. And he didn’t want to completely ruin his chances of winning your friendship back.

He slid off his clothes, eyeing the scars along his chest in the mirror, and sighed. He stepped into the hot shower and soaked his body.

His mind fell back to when you had your arms tightly wrapped around him as he sped through the city. He had never wanted someone so close to him before. It was strange, but he almost felt at peace when you clung to him.

When he had carried you back to your apartment the night you had stumbled into a group of mobsters, his arms slid under your thigh and waist like he was always meant to hold you like that. He remembered how his hands were burning through his gloves, his mind racing on how he was cradling you, pulling your body against his.

He felt himself begin to grow aroused in the shower.

Then he remembered how you had begun to strip out of your wet clothes, forgetting he was there. It was understandable, the way he crept silently through the shadows made it hard for anyone to know when he was near. He had watched the curve of your body and you pushed your pants off, giving him just a slight glimpse of your black underwear.

Ashamed, he reached down and gripped his growing erection.

You laid back on your couch, your damp hair sprawled against your shoulders, your shirt hiking up to reveal your thighs. He had watched as you tenderly glided your fingers down your calf to feel the bruises that were forming.

Bruce wondered what it would feel like to run his hands up your leg. To let his hands linger on your thighs, squeezing them.

He hadn’t even realized he began to stroke himself until he felt himself grunting in his throat.

He remembered how you had tried to hit him, and the way he effortlessly caught your wrist. What would it be like to trap your wrists above your head, placing kisses on your neck, feeling you squirm beneath him?

His hand leaned out against the shower wall, his eyes pressing shut.

He pictured you in that skimpy outfit, the way your legs looked in those heels. He heard your laugh play in his head.

His hand began to move faster.

All the times you had been caught in his gaze as he stood in silence while you waited for his reply. How he almost felt like he couldn’t speak as he watched you.

He thought about the time when you first met and the way he towered over you. You hadn’t run. You weren’t afraid.

He remembered how he felt when he first studied your shadowed face on that roof, the wind rushing through your hair, leaving a sweet scent of lavender in his nose. The way your pink lips were slightly parted in shock at his appearance. He imagined how they might look after roughly kissing you, plump and swollen.

A moan fell out of Bruce’s mouth, his breathing heavy and unsteady.

He wondered what it would feel like to lay on top of you with your hardened nipples pressed against him. How you might moan beneath him.

What it would feel like to be inside you.

“Y/N”, Bruce breathed out. He climaxed, grunting loudly as he kept stroking himself to extend the high. His mouth hung open as he groaned, imagining you moaning along with him as he made you orgasm.

His breathing was loud as he came down. His head hung low, the water pounding against his neck and back.

This wasn’t what friends were supposed to do. You weren’t supposed to think of your friends like that. You weren’t supposed to picture them while you jerk off.

And yet he just did. Just as he’s done many nights before this.

Bruce opened his eyes, the pictures of you flooding out of his mind.

–

You laid in your dark bedroom, eyes staring at the ceiling. You knew you’d forgive Bruce—I mean, you already had. You were fighting against what you knew was wrong and right. You knew you should feel violated by him watching you, so why didn’t you? Why did it make you start to heat up when he had told you? The way his voice was dark and low as he questioned you about the strange man. Was he jealous?

You felt your hand glide down to your panties in a sinful act.

Friends don’t stalk friends to check upon them. No, they come to knock on their door or shoot them a text.

It scared you, the way you began to think about Batman. You hadn’t even seen his full-face or his body under the armor, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

You closed your eyes.

He was a bit odd in the way he interacted with you. When he was fighting crime, he was strong and confident. But when it came to having a conversation, he faltered. It made you blush to think about how he might actually be a shy person out of the suit.

You picture his lips from earlier, the way they were slightly parted and so close to yours. You could feel his warm breath against your face. You wanted to kiss him. Wished he had closed the gap. But you knew he couldn’t feel the same. You were just some journalist who kept getting in his way. And he was The Batman!

You imagined yourself reaching out to touch his jaw, feeling his stubble against your fingertips.

You began rubbing circles over your underwear.

How he might grunt like he always does at your touch. You imagined running your hand down his bodied suit, wanting to feel the goosebumps against his skin. And how he’d watch you so intently as you did, his glare sending shivers down your spine.

You snaked your hand underneath your underwear now, sliding your finger between your folds.

And if he kissed you, you don’t think you’d be able to hold back your moan. The way he’d overpower you so easily, pushing you hard against that brick wall.

You wondered what it might be like to torture him, to have that kind of power over him, just the sight of your exposed skin making him go feral.

Oh, how a muscular brute like him must be in bed.

You slid a finger inside of yourself, your heat already dripping wet.

You wanted him. Wanted him on top of you. Inside of you. Wanted him to fuck you so hard that you lost your breath.

You pumped your fingers in and out, rocking your hips forward as you did.

You imagined his lips around your swollen nipple, gently sucking and biting. His other hand sliding up to grab your breast, his throat audibly groaning as he did.

You moaned into your silent room, your hand sliding up to squeeze your breast over your t-shirt.

What if he was a gentle lover, making you look up at him as he pleasured you.

But then you imagined what it would be like if he flipped you over without warning, making you take him as he slammed you into your mattress. You wanted to know what his voice sounded like as he told you how much he had been wanting this. You’d beg and plead for him to let you come. His hand sliding to your clit to help you reach your high.

Your fingers moved faster, imagining they were his, and he’d curl them inside you, your juices soaking his hand.

You came as your hips rocked up against your hand, your breath getting lost in your throat. Your free hand gripped your sheets, your head flying back in pleasure.

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh reality of his absence hitting you.

He’d never feel that way about you.

Not with the way he looked; tall, muscular, intimidating. He probably had tons of girls clawing at him. So why would he bother with you?

Ch. 7

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