Bruce Wayne X Reader - Blog Posts

Y'all hear me out again..

Batfam x neglected P5 Joker!M Reader

Reader gets sent to Bruce because of the assault incident and has to complete the rest of his high school years while living witht he Wayne's.

And let's be honest the things that happens in Peronsa 5 seem like that things that would happen in Gotham😭😭

Like when you really think about it, IT WORKS SO WELL TOGETHER.

Plzzz somebody @ me is y'all make this😩😩

Chapters: 3/61 Fandom: Justice League - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Clark Kent/Reader, Bruce Wayne/Reader, Barry Allen/Reader, Superman/Original Female Character, Batman/Original Female Character, The Flash/Original Female Character Characters: Superman | Clark Kent, Batman | Bruce Wayne, The Flash | Barry Allen, Justice League - Character, extended character ensembles that are appropriate to each charcater, basically related characters Additional Tags: Romance, Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sex, internal thought processes Summary:

This story will be a sort of preferences, much like my Hetalia fic if you’ve read it, but also technically be both “x Reader” and “x OC.” You see, I really struggle to write with (Y/n) (L/n), or 2nd person POV’s. So I have made three blank slates of OC’s, and wrote romance with them. They technically have backstory and description where it serves the stories. If this interests you, please read. I’ll explain more in the first chapter which characterization and continuity I’m following. Enjoy!

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— Superman Ticket —

_ Alexandra Ogden POV _

You know, I understand why a lot of businesses both do and don’t have ‘friends & family’ discounts. Those things are great for advertising, but can be easily abused. Luckily for me, as my own boss, I can give out discounts wherever I like with little consequence. Plus, my friends tend to feed me while I clean so I call that a net-bonus. A preemptive tip, if you will. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but hey, it works. 

Lois easily moves around the kitchen while I finish cleaning the living room. Last room of her apartment left to clean, it was where she was sitting out of the way while I cleaned the rest of her place, and the last client of the day. I do find cleaning to be enjoyable, because the instant gratification after completing the task is addicting, honestly, but it is tiring. Some places just take some elbow grease, what can I say? 

“Nearly done?” Lois asks. “Almost! Just gotta move your couches back in place, and then I’m done for the day.” I call back, and get to moving said furniture over the newly swept floor. “Good! We haven’t had the chance to hang out in a while.” Lois comments, and I hear her popping open a wine bottle and moving around her cabinets, so I think I have an idea of what she has in store for me. 

She’s not wrong though, we both have been busy. Lois just got a promotion at work, and as a reporter she’s been very busy. She worked incredibly hard to get where she is, and that’s not going to falter because she’s reached one of her goals. No, she’s going to keep going, I know that. I’ve been busy too. My cleaning business is hard as a one-woman show, but I have regular clients who have also recommended my services to their friends and family. So I’ve been swamped. It’s nice to have a routine of which houses I go to in a given week, but the parties I clean up after on the week-ends and now week-days have taken up so much of my time. But the pay has been good, and has been padding me for times when it’ll be slower. 

Once I’m done with the living room I gather my cleaning supplies and place them by the door. I’ll carry them down to my car later. Just on time too, as Lois emerges from her kitchen with two wine glasses filled with a generous amount of a cheap red, if I know her well, and a knowing smile. Lois always knows what's going on. I’d say it's her reporter instincts, but I’ve known her since high-school and she was like this long before she joined the newspaper club. 

I take the offered glass and sit down next to her newly shiny couch. We both drink before talking, because all conversations are better a little buzzed I think. “So, how’d it go?” She asks me, a sly smirk on her face, and I sigh. I know exactly what she’s talking about. I had a date yesterday, one Lois prompted me to go on, and she wants the tea. Too bad it’s going to be very cold. “Not great, how well did you know this guy again?” I prompt, thinking back to how the date went. 

Lois raises her brows in question, and slowly says – “Not especially well, why? What happened?” I lean back and take a sip before I answer. “Like I said, not great, he was very… how do I put this, self-assured? Entitled? He seemed to think my work was either a hobby or not a real job.” I try to explain how he came off, but it’s hard to put it into words. He was just off… and obviously so, but not in a way you could put your finger on immediately. 

“The job that you get paid for?” I nod at Lois’s comment, and she looks stumped. “I’m sorry girl, I thought he would have been better.” I shake my head. “Not your fault, Lois, you didn’t know him well. I just think I’m gonna be done with dates for a while.” I say, and Lois hums in thought. “What if… how about you trust me one more time?” She says, looking excited. 

I look at her, slightly concerned. “Lois, you didn’t do well with the last guy you recommended, why would this one be different?” Lois smiles at me in what I’m sure she thinks is comforting, but it’s one of her determined smiles that makes me think I’m about to be roped into something chaotic again. “Because I’m not the one recommending him!” She explains. “What?” I ask, confused beyond measure now. 

“You remember that photographer at the Daily Planet that I work with?” She pushes on, and I hesitantly reply – “Yes? The sunshine one?” “Yes! He’s worked with this other reporter on my new floor, and he says this guy is a sweetheart, couldn’t hurt a fly. You’d trust sunshine, wouldn’t you?” Lois excitedly asks. I frown a little though. “I don’t know, seems like a risk, really.” Lois pushes on my shoulder a little. 

“Come on, Alex, live a little. You handled the last guy, if this guys the same then no problem, same story, same old song. But what if he’s not?” Lois pressures, and she makes some good points. I have handled bad dates before, what’s one more? I sigh and nod. “Alright, one more blind date.” Lois fist bumps the air in excitement, and I have to crack a smile at that. 

— Break Line —

_ Alexandra Ogden POV _ 

I like cafe dates, it means I can dress casually. The last guy I went on a date with chose a fancy restaurant, obsessively texted me to check I was dressing right, and most certainly did not return the favour. I was not enthused to say the least. So this is much better. Now just to find the man. You’d think Lois would give his number beforehand, but it seems like she wanted to avoid the aforementioned fiasco. Nevermind that, I’ve got to find this guy going off a name and a description. 

Clark Kent, or as Lois keeps calling him, Smallville is a man with black hair, usually a little messy, black, square glasses and a slouch despite his buff physique. Jimmy Olsen described him to me in some better detail. I can expect him to look nervous, as he comes from a small town and never got used to the city crowds. He’ll probably overdress, but not out of a sense of superiority, but in a nervous way where he feels the need to impress. Yes, he slouches, but it doesn’t come off as lazy, more insecure. His hair will be messy, but not so messy as to be unkempt. It’s curley more than anything. And blue eyes, Jimmy mentions those would be striking. 

And there is just such a man fitting that description in the back of the cafe, at a small table, nervously looking outside the cafe wall to ceiling windows. Hopefully he’s looking for me. He does have the curly black hair, the big glasses, and the slouch. He curls up in his seat like he’s scared of inconveniencing someone by taking up too much space. He’s wearing a nice sweater, some khaki slacks, and office shoes. And he is very buff. Jimmy said he was from a small town right? Bet he’s a farm boy, a natural buffness gained from lifting hay or something like that. 

I approach him with an easy smile, and stand by his table. “Hey, Clark Kent, right?” I ask, and his eyes jerk to me quickly. Wow, those are blue. Cute too. “Oh- Uh, yes. I’m Clark Kent – you just said that. Um - Alexandra Ogden?” He nervously stutters, going to adjust his glasses on his face despite them not being out of place. I give him a comforting smile. I by no means think I look bad, in fact I think I look very good, but I didn’t know I looked so good as to make him this nervous. At least, I hope it’s good looks that’s making him nervous. Hate for it to be anything else, except maybe natural disposition. Then it’s just neutral. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out. I hope you weren’t waiting long?” I ask, and Clark shakes his head negatively. “No, no, I just got here. Don’t worry. Do you want to get something?” That’s good, means I didn’t make a bad impression by being tardy. And he waited for me before going to get something to eat! Ain’t that sweet. I nod. “Yeah, join me?” I ask. “Yes!” Clark exclaims, perhaps a little louder than he meant, and scrambles out of his seat. Oh, this is adorable. This man towers over me, even with a slouch, and he’s acting like the most nervous-excited puppy I have ever seen. 

He follows me eagerly into line, standing a little behind me instead of just beside me. I frown a little at that, but I do understand. This cafe is small, there isn’t a lot of room. Speaking of little room, the line is already long, and more people start to pour in through the front door. That welcome bell has not stopped jingling. “Wow, it got crowded fast.” I comment, and Clark moves a little closer to me to save space. 

“Very fast. I’m starting to think the whole date will be spent in this line.” He answers, and he’s not wrong. As I mentioned, the line is already long, and moving very slowly. We might be here a while. “In that case, how was your day?” I ask. Let’s not let the time go to waste, right? “Busy, yours?” Clark asks, and that’s a short answer, isn’t it? I chance a glance back and see he’s looking at the crowd around us nervously. Olsen did say he wasn’t used to city crowds, or maybe given how long he’s been here, he just doesn’t like them. “Likewise. Any interesting stories?” I prompt, trying to get his mind off the crowd. 

“A couple, one intrigue into how the Crime Families of Metropolis are exploiting the restaurant scene, but Lois Lane snatched that one up, and another that I got on LexCorp. General PR things, really.” Clark seems to clock in that the date is going now, and engages readily. His job sounds interesting, and he seems knowledgeable about it. “Were you looking forward to the crime story?” I respond. “What reporter isn’t? But I have to admit, I think Lois will do a better job than I would have.” I see Clark shrug out of the corner of my eye, and I smile. Humble, not bad. 

“I’d say don’t sell yourself short, but I do have to stick to my best friend.” I shrug as well. What can I say, I have loyalty. Clark chuckles a little, which makes me smile more. Good to know he didn’t take offence. “I don’t blame you. You know, Lois didn’t mention what you did for work?” Clark asks the next question, and I toy with my bottom lip for a moment before I answer. This is where the last date went down hill. “I’m a cleaner.” I hesitantly say. 

But Clark doesn’t immediately change the topic or dismiss me, he asks a follow-up instead. “For like someone specific? Or freelance?” His tone is curious and genuine. “Freelance.” I answer. “Any difficult jobs lately?” Clark questions further, and I feel some flutters in my stomach from how well this is going. He’s not a snob about my job at least! One point for the small town boy. “They’re all a little hard, but I did have a party to clean up after this past weekend. Tell you what, if you ever plan a party in your beige-themed house – stick to white wine, not red.” I expound. That was a hard job, and my client was absolutely a snob. 

“Sheesh. I hope you got tipped nicely for that one.” Clark empathizes with me, and I nod as well. “Would it surprise you if I said I didn’t?” I chuckle a little. It’s been long enough and is more funny now than it was annoying and rude then. She was an ass. “Sadly, no. I don’t think your career is one that’s often appreciated these days, is it?” Clark sighs in sympathy. I snort a little though, in a humorous way. “These days? Please, point to the decade where they were.” I prod. 

“Good point. But forgive me for the assumption – you look like you're doing well for yourself?” Clark points out, and I have to say, he’s not exactly wrong. I’ve got several regular clients, and enough supplies that it’s not digging into my budget all the time like it did in the early days. I even have my own apartment, which while small is debt free. “That sounds like a compliment to me. But indulge me, what gave it away?” I query, and Clark astutely assumes that – “You don’t sound mad that your occupation is underappreciated, just annoyed.”

I used to get so angry, back when I was starting my business. It was hard at the start, and it still is now, although in different ways. I used to get mad at everything, from my clients, my career, myself, and the world in general. But I’ve done well for myself, and I suppose that gives me some privilege, doesn’t it? I’m in a place where I don’t have to be angry at the world, that’s something. “I think I am mad, on principle, but you’re not wrong I’m more annoyed about not getting tipped than pissed. Lucky me, really.” I eventually say after a moment. 

“Something tells me luck has nothing to do with it.” Clark states, and isn’t that curious. What does he mean? “Hm?” I question back with a hum. Clark explains himself. “You’re friends with Lois Lane, and something tells me she was hard to keep up with in High School. You’d need to be proactive for that, so I think you’re probably a very hard worker, and your success is a credit to that.” I blush a little at his take, and suddenly I’m glad he chose to stand behind me instead of beside, so that I can have that little moment to myself. It’s nice to be appreciated, isn’t it? Still, I shan’t let a chance to tease go. 

 “Is this flattery?” I ask with a smile in my voice, and a chipper little tilt of the head. I hear Clark chuckle quickly again. “Journalistic observation. Can’t help it when I meet someone interesting.” He jokes back, and I turn to look at him with a cheery smile. “I’m interesting, am I?” His smile is adorable, actually, it’s adorkable. The way his grin is comforting, to how his glasses sit, to the way his hair lays. Oh, I like this view. 

“Among other things.” Clark replies, that dorky smile still on his face. I truly turn my whole body to face him now, ready to continue this. “Well, I – hey, careful!” I try to start, but someone seems to take me turning around as a sign for them to skip the line. They shove in between me and the person that was in front of me, throwing an elbow into my back. I tip forward, but luckily Clark is close and catches me easily. 

“Woah there. I got ya’. It’s really getting crowded in here now.” Clark catches me by my elbows, and helps me right myself without letting go. I look around, and he’s very correct. I glare at the person who cut in line, but they don’t spare me a glance, and stoutly ignore me. “Too crowded. And we’ve barely moved in line.” I observe, and Clark nods back. “Yeah, I think our coffee is going to take a while, huh?” My lips form a thin line as I think about it. Yeah, it might even take more than a while. 

“Probably. Unless we try somewhere else?” I propose. “If you’re okay with it, so am I.” Clark looks me in the eye as I respond, and I stare back with a confident smile. I like him. “Great, let's get out of here and get some room to breathe.” We quickly shimmy out of the line, and Clark holds my hand as he uses his height and broad shoulders to wiggle us some room to move. We manage to squeeze out the door of the cafe despite having to do it sideways to pass the guy standing in it. We quickly walk to the corner of the block to escape the line that is trailing out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk. 

“Phew – I am happy to be out of there. Sorry about this.” Clark seems to relax and stretch out now in the open air. His shoulders settle and untense, and he almost stops slouching. Almost. I shake my head. “You can’t control it, or have known, don’t sweat it. Plus, you’re a buff guy, I imagine you were more crowded in there than I was.” He chuckles nervously, but turns to me with a sly grin. 

“Is this flattery I hear?” He asks, a smirk in his voice, and I laugh out loud. Good humor too! “Only altruistic observation. It was natural, really.” I quip back, and he smiles with me. “I certainly don’t mind it.” His gaze is kind as he stares down at me, and I can’t help but return it. Jimmy wasn’t kidding when he said his eyes were striking. Call me cheesy if you must, but I wouldn’t mind getting lost in them. “So, as a reporter I imagine you’re very familiar with Metropolis?” I start. 

Clark gives me a curious look, but does respond in kind to my odd question. “Comes with the territory, even if I only moved here for my career.” I smile back at him to reassure him as he answers. “Then would that familiarity happen to give you knowledge of other good cafes around here?” Clark smiles when he catches on to my plan. Although he still looks a little nervous. He rubs the back of his neck slightly. 

“It might, if the crowds from before haven’t already ruined this. But with the way this conversation has been going, am I wrong in assuming it hasn’t?” Clark asks in the most sincere voice I have ever heard. I wonder what makes a man like him nervous. He’s so tall, and such a big man. Yet he slouches to not inconvenience others, he’s nervous in the face of little old me. He’s something, I just can’t put my finger on it at the moment. But I’d like to find out. 

 “No, you’re dead on. It hasn’t ruined it all, only made it more interesting. Among other things.” I day as I grin up at him. He grins back, and holds out his hand. I hold it, and it’s more than nice. His hand is bigger than mine, warmer too. Calloused but not uncomfortable, and he holds my hand so gently. “Then I absolutely know another cafe.” I squeeze his hand excitedly. “Lead on then, few things could ruin this date now.” 

He laughs a little with joy, and his smile is starting to become addictive. He tugs me around the block, assuredly guiding me to another cafe. “Great. Com'n, this way –” He starts to say, but is cut off as the sky dumps a bucket of water on us. For fucks sake, it’s really raining now. There wasn’t even a sprinkle in warning! Just some grey clouds, and now it’s pouring. “I may have jinxed it.” I say, and yelp a little when Clark starts to tug me and jog towards something. 

“Or spoken too soon– this way!” Clark calls back, and he runs under the cover of a bus stop. Nobody else is in it, thankfully, and we both start to wipe the water off our faces and ring it out of our hair. Clark wipes the water off his glasses, and I shiver from the temperature. “God! Metropolis rain is so cold! You never get used to it.” I say, trying to keep the mood a little light in the face of this downpour. Clark nods. “Agreed! I don’t think we should risk running to the cafe, we’re already wet enough.” 

I frown at that, because it sounds like we don’t have a back up. I don’t want this date to end yet, it was going so well! “What about our date? Unless you want to have it at the bus stop.” I ask, and Clark frowns as well. He looks contemplative, and takes a moment to answer. “I think we’ll have to take a raincheck. Literally. The bus will come, do you live along one of the routes?” He says sheepishly. Damn, and this was going so well. 

“Yeah I do, you?” I answer defeatedly. Clark shakes his head. “Sadly not, but it’s alright, I’ll wait here for the rain to end.” What? I’m not going to just leave him in the rain, that’d be a dick move. And he’s been really good, and this has been an amazing date so far. We’re getting along great. I don’t want to ruin it by leaving him to soak in the cold. “I’d feel like an asshole if I just left you while I went home. You’ve been really nice, Clark.” 

Clark seems to blush a little, and puts his glasses back on his face. He’s back to that nervous stature, rubbing the back of his neck again as he asks – “Well, how about we try to go on another date? Another day?” I frown. I’m not opposed to another date, but – “That won’t keep you warm and dry.” I argue. Clark seems to blush more, and I don’t know what for until he argues back – “You never know, it might. I hear phone numbers from pretty blondes keep guys and gals alike very warm.” 

I feel my own cheeks flush, and with a small smile I tease back. “Is this flattery?” Clark, instead of continuing the teasing tone, responds seriously and with a smile. “Yes.” I think I’ll just have to trust him. Trust I’m not giving him a cold, or leaving him out to hang in this weather. I sigh, but I’m still grinning. “Alright, Clark Kent, you’ve got yourself another date.” Clark smiles brightly at me, holding my hands for a moment, squeezing them. “And your number?” He asks. 

I reach into my purse, grab a pen and loose but unused napkin, and jot my number down on it. I hand it over happily. “Here.” He takes it and tucks it into his wallet, probably one of the only places it’ll stay dry. I frown a little at the reminder I’m leaving him in the rain. Clark looks up for a second, and then quickly looks back to me. “Thank you, I think the bus is almost here.” I look around, and don’t see the bus. 

“How can you tell – well would you look at that, right on the dot.” I start to ask, but I interrupt myself as I see the bus turn the corner onto our street and slowly approach the bus stop. “It was just a feeling.” Clark explains. “A good one. Thank you for the date, Clark, despite the ending I very much enjoyed it.” I respond, and smile at Clark again as the bus comes to a stop. 

“Me too. Get home safe!” Clark calls back to me with a smile and a wave as I get on the bus. I turn around to wave back through the closing doors. “You too, and don’t forget to call or text me!” I remind him, and I just hear Clark’s response as the doors close between us. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” I sit in the back of the bus, and forlornly watch as Clark becomes a smaller and smaller speck in the distance. It’s really hard to see him through this rain. But as soon as I lose sight of him, I slump in my seat and turn back to look in the direction my seat is facing. 

I really like him, I think it was a good date, despite all the little things. But those were environmental things, not problems with Clark himself. I hope he texts me, and does take me on a second date. I’d really like to go. 

— Batman Ticket —

_Genevieve Dalton POV _

Most people like to chant ‘Eat the Rich!’, but today my job is to feed them. I’m not normally a cook for these kinds of high-scale events, but I am well connected within my field, and this is a private dinner. Some old rich friends or something are having a dinner together, and my friend was hired to be their private chef for the night. I understand why, he does cook fancy things. But he also has a lot of anxiety about these things, and was scared to cook alone. 

So he called me. I’m also a private chef, but nowhere near as bougie as he is. But I can be his sous chef for the night, handle the dishes and prep as such. It’ll be fine, really. I don’t let him know that I’m also a little nervous, because who wouldn’t be? I mean, it’s not like they can tank my ratings, I already usually work at a diner. They could tank Jeffery though, and I don’t want that to happen. So there is some pressure. 

But I’m a cook, I can handle it. I know I can, for Jeffrey. Even if one of the guests is the Prince of Gotham. 

— Break Line —

_ Bruce Wayne POV _

I’ve never hated Julie Madison, but I’ve never been fond of her in the way she wanted. I understand where she’s coming from, social pressure as well as pressure at home that pushes her to remain in the circle of the Gothamite elites. But it's not where she wants to be, deep down. She doesn’t quite believe in the imperialistic norm of the socialites, and I think she would much rather focus on developing a career instead of furthering her family's legacy of inherited wealth. 

I don’t know if it’s for moral reasons or because her passion for acting outweighs the silver spoon she’s been force-fed all her life. I don’t think I should be the one to point this out to her, though. It’ll mean so much more and stick so much harder if she figures it out for herself. I do hope she does though, it’ll do her a lot of good. 

A lot more good than this farce of a dinner. The food is good, the wine is perfect, and the atmosphere is as romantic as you’d expect it to be. But neither am I interested in her, or her in me. I wouldn’t hate a one-night stand, but I know it wouldn’t mean to her what it means to me. And she’d hate it. She doesn’t actually want me, it’s just the expectation her parents and friends are forcing on her. Gothams golden girl and Gothams Dark Prince would make quite the pair, if in name only. 

Her make-up is immaculate, but her smile is forced. Mine is as well, but for her own sanity I hope she doesn’t notice. This mask is easy for me to wear, I’ve practiced. But Julie just got back from a movie shoot, and it’s been a while since she’s had to put on her porcelain mask of perfection for Gotham. She’s trying very hard to make this work, and if we were anyone else I would be falling head over heels right now. 

But we’re not anyone else, and I’ve known her since High-school. I was admittedly not the nicest back then, but she was kind to me. I owe it to her to show the same kindness back. Neither of us want to be here, but this dinner will likely tide her parents overbearing attitude for a bit. It’s the least I can do for her. Still, this is dragging on. I should end this soon, as politely as I can. 

And I am saved by the bell, specifically the alarm bell. I feel my phone vibrate three times in my back pocket, and I know that is the tell I set for a bank robbery. As Julie goes to pour more wine I sneak a quick glance at said phone to confirm. There's a robbery at the First National Bank of Gotham, no rouges spotted. I should go handle it, but I also need to make sure Julie doesn’t feel slighted. Bathroom, Wayne Enterprise Emergency, Apology text. It’s a quick plan, but it will have to do. 

“If you’ll excuse me for a second, Julie, I’ll be back shortly.” I say with practiced grace and an easy smirk. Julie looks a little caught off guard as I stand, but she smiles pleasantly. “Of course, Bruce. I won’t be going anywhere.” I internally wince at that, but still smile back and button the front of my seat as I leave her dining table and make my way out of the dining room. Instead of turning right towards the bathrooms I turn left to make my way out through the kitchen. 

If I remember the layout of her penthouse correctly there’s a window to the fire escape there, which will lead down into an obscure alleyway. I send the location to the Batcomputer which then starts to self-drive the Batmobile to said alley. Luckily Julie lives on the edge of the city, it won’t be long. By the time I make it to the alley the car will be there and ready, my suit in the back to change into. 

I’m apparently a little too confident in my plan that I fail to notice someone in the kitchen as I enter until they ask – “Can I help you sir?” I hold back a startled flinch and immediately look up to assess the situation. It’s just one other person in the kitchen with me, a Ginger woman with her hair pulled back in a bun. She’s in normal clothes with an apron over it, and yellow plastic gloves to protect her hands as she scrubs dishes. Ah, one of the hired chefs. 

I had thought since Julie had hired private chefs for the night, and we had already just finished dinner, they would be gone by now. Shit. Alright, new plan, play nice, pretend I’m an asshole abandoning Julie, and look like going out the window is normal Playboy Nepo-baby behavior. I give the cook my most charming smirk, and put the flirting on thick. 

“Absolutely Sweetheart, I wanted to thank the girl who just made one of the most amazing meals I’ve ever had.” I say, and the woman blushes furiously, looking caught off guard. Her eyes frantically look to another door, but not the one I came from or the one she used to deliver the food to us. I hadn’t paid much attention to her then. But it’s a different door, are there more people? 

“I - I - Thank you sir, but I’m not the cook - tonight at least - Jeffery made your meal. He deserves your compliments.” So there is at least one more. He must be taking a break on the other side of the door. If I move this along quickly enough I won’t have to talk to or excuse myself from him either. I turn the charm up as I turn to look at the woman again. 

“Well, pass on my compliments for me, but I have to admit, while the meal was good, it didn’t look quite as good as you do. May I know your name?” I ask, leaning a hand against the kitchen island. The woman's face is a mess of red flush, which I have to admit is very charming, and she stutters out – “Gen – Genevieve Dalton, sir. You - sorry -” I laugh a little to interrupt her, and wave off her stumbling. “Bruce Wayne, but I bet you just remembered that.” 

She shyly nods, and I continue to smile. “Genevieve, a beautiful name. It suits you. You wouldn’t be willing to part with your number, would you?” It’s a little far, but I need to get this over quickly. There is an active robbery going on. She looks caught off guard, and this time her eyes do flicker to the door that leads to Julie. Good, think I’m an asshole, wave me off, and I will be out of her quickly. The Batmobile must almost be here by now. “Reunion not going well?” Is what she asks instead, and what? 

“What?” I ask a little dumbly, because what reunion is she talking about? Genevieve looks nervous as she answers – “The Highschool reunion, sir? Ms. Madison said this was a reunion dinner.” Ah, maybe I didn’t give Julie enough credit. But I hit the nail on the head when I said that she doesn’t want to date me. If she did she would have bragged about it to the cooks, but instead she misnamed the dinner on purpose. I can’t fault her for that, but I do now have to roll with the punches. My smile is a little strained as I quip back –

“Have you ever had a fun reunion? It’s always people who have mellowed out since high-school, and I did not come to talk taxes. So, number?” I rush, and Genevieve fumbles for a second to take off her gloves and write her number on a recipe card before handing it to me. I tuck into my breast pocket, and begin to trudge towards the window to make my escape, already planning my next line, when Genevieve stops my in my tracks by asking – 

“If I may ask, sir, what did you want my number for?” I turn to look at her slowly. Is she - is she joking? What does she think I want her number for? Still, play stupid games, win stupid prizes, and I should have just taken the damn elevator. So I plaster on an amused smile, and hit her with “So I can take you on a date of course.” Genevieve looks incredibly surprised, and very embarrassed, as her hands clasp together and squeeze in surprise. “Me?” She asks in a high pitched voice, and I have to chuckle at that. She’s dense, but she’s cute. 

“Do boys usually ask for your number for other reasons?” I jest, and she shakes her head. “Sorry sir, I just thought you were unhappy with my service or something and wanted to know who to call to complain to or something.” That’s a low opinion, although whether it's of myself or her I’m unsure. I shake my head negatively though, and placate her. “No, no, nothing like that. You were perfect. And call me Bruce, I will be taking you on a date after all, as long as you're interested.” 

She pauses for a moment, thinking it over, before looking me in the eyes and nodding. “I would like that, I think.” She responds. I give her an award winning smile, and say “Then I’ll text you the details. Now you’ve been wonderful, Darling, but I do need to leave before Julie notices I’m not in the bathroom.” And with that I turn towards the window. “So you're taking the window?” Genevieve asks incredulously. I shoot her a smirk over my shoulder as I open the window and climb out. 

“She’d notice the front door! And I’d hate to be rude.” I call back, and Genevieve comes closer to watch as I make my way down the fire escape. “And this isn’t?” She asks. “She’ll find it more amusing this way, and besides she’ll expect this of me.” I answer, slowly climbing down so as to not look like I do this every night. Not even a playboy is escaping by window every night. When I look up, Genevieve is smiling at me with a raised eyebrow. “Do this often, then?” She asks teasingly. I actually give her a genuine smile back, she looks better when not so nervous. 

“I did back in highschool. Do me a favour?” I ask. Genevieve laughs a little, but nods back at me. “Don’t tell her it was the kitchen window?” I say, covering my tracks. Genevieve smiles down at me. “I won’t.” She promises, and goes back into the kitchen and closes the window after her. Once I’m sure she’s not looking, I scale down the fire escape with much more practice and speed than Bruce Wayne is known for. The Batmobile is right where I directed it to, and I enter quickly. 

I direct it to drive to the robbery as I get changed, and I call Alfred while I’m at it. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Pennyworth's voice comes through the comms clear as day. “Text Julie Madison an apology, something came up at Wayne Enterprises and needed my immediate attention. I won’t be coming back.” I say. I can almost envision Alfred’s disapproving gaze. “I thought you were on a date, sir?” He prods. “No, turns out it was a reunion. But I do have a date, reserve a table at a nice restaurant in the next few days.” I order. “I thought you weren’t interested in Julie, sir?” Alfred asks. “It’s not with Julie.” I say, and take control of the Batmobile, speeding it down the streets of Gotham. “Batman out.” I say, ending the line before Alfred can respond. 

I’ll deal with that after the robbery, and after patrol. Whenever I get home.

— Flash Ticket —

_ Barry Allen POV _

My work as a forensic Detective is just as important to me as my work as the Flash. I think I wasn’t already working to fight crime, doing it with my powers wouldn’t have come as naturally to me. So I do take my work seriously, no matter what others say. But the thing about work is that it comes with colleagues. The Flash doesn’t really have colleagues, at least I haven’t run into any yet. My work for the Central City Crime Lab though? That comes with plenty of colleagues, colleagues who love to rag on me. 

“Barry, I saw you flirt with Kristen when she first got here, and if that’s how you flirt with everyone – no wonder you never get the girl.” James Forrest teases me as we walk back from the local coffee shop, our arms full of different drinks for the office. “Hey! That flirting was good! She just wasn’t interested! That doesn’t mean my flirting was bad!” I defend myself hotly, managing to balance the two full drink carriers I’m holding as I turn to glare at him slightly. James just laughs. 

“Nah Man, it was so bad. Your lines were so cheesy! No way that ever works.” He doubles down, looking smug. I grumble a little. “It totally works.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Has it? Has it really?” I pout a little, because as much as I hate it, he’s not wholly wrong. I haven’t gotten a date yet from a single girl I’ve asked. Hell, I don’t even get dates as the Flash! I know it’d be a terrible idea and all, but it doesn’t matter, because even as a hero I can’t seem to pull it off. Is it the flirting style that’s the problem? Or is it just me? 

As I think this I spot someone in the park, behind James. A gorgeous brunette, sitting alone at a park bench, just eating a sandwich and reading a newspaper. This is my chance! I’ll show him that I can flirt. “Hold this. Watch. I got this!” I say, and put my two drink carriers on top of his. “Hey!” James exclaims, struggling to balance all of the drinks, but I don’t pay him any mind and confidently stride towards the girl. 

It’s gonna work this time. 

— Break Line —

_ Barry Allen POV _

I run my hand through my hair as I approach the woman on the bench. She looks focused on her newspaper, but not deaf to the world. She’s dressed professionally, but I don’t see a ring. So I’m not homewrecking, hopefully. She finishes the sandwich in the time it takes me to walk over. I stop about a foot or two away from, I don’t want to crowd her like an asshole or something. 

“Hey beautiful, what’s your name?” I say, making sure I’m smiling and not slouching. She looks up, looking a little confused and wary. She eyes me up and down, spares a glance around to see that I’m not talking to anyone else, before looking back up at me. “Oh, uh… Charlotte?” She says slowly, and I smirk. I have just the line for this. “No surname? That’s fine, my names’ Barry Allen, and I wouldn’t mind lending you mine.” 

She keeps looking at me with those pretty green eyes, and stumbles for a moment - “Wha - you -” until she cuts herself off by laughing out loud. Her eyes close with the laugh a little, and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth, letting her newspaper fall to her lap. I wilt at her reaction. “Aw, it’s not that bad is it?” I say, my tone just short of a whine. I thought I had this. 

She responds through chuckles. “Depends how much you meant it. Seriously? So bad - but ironically? That was so good -” I perk up with a – “Really?” Hey, I’ll take it. She may think it's funny, but she doesn’t hate it. Still laughing, Charlotte manages to answer me with – “Yes!” With that, I slide into the spot beside her on the bench. I can and will do this, I can woo her. 

I slip my arm on the back of the bench, resting it behind her but not touching. I haven’t asked if she’s okay with that yet. “Want another?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrow for comedic effect. Charlotte gives me a blinding smile, her eyes shining with mirth. I could get lost in those eyes, and I wouldn’t mind. “If it’s as funny as the last one? Absolutely!” God, you can hear her smile in her voice, it’s contagious. 

“Did you just come out of the oven?” I eagerly ask. “Pft -  no.” Charlotte responds. “Damn! Then we better call the fire department, because you're smoking hot!” And I emphasize the end with an exaggerated wink. Charlotte begins to laugh out loud again, and I haven’t heard a better sound in my life. I want to keep hearing it, so I keep going. “I’m learning about important dates in history, want to be one of them?” 

At this point Charlotte fully lets go of her newspaper, and it slips off her lap, and she holds onto her side and the seat of the bench to keep from falling over in laughter. I push on, this is great. “Are you a flower? Because I wanna’ Bee with you forever!” Charlotte's head tilts back as she laughs, and I can’t help but feel some laughter bubble up in me. This is fun, this is amazing, this is working. 

 “Call me mister Flintstone, ‘Cause I can –” Charlotte holds her hand up and I stop talking, but her face is still smiling. “Stop! Stop! I’m gonna laugh myself to death!” She says, and I start to laugh at myself. I can’t say my flirting has ever gotten this reaction before, but I don’t hate it. In fact, I like it a lot. Charlotte wipes a tear from her eye as she rights herself, a few breathy laughs escaping her as she calms down. My own giggles come to a slow stop as well, and we both just bask in the joyful energy of the moment for a second. 

Charlotte turns to me with a smile on her pretty face, her lips quirking in amusement. “Barry Allen, you are a riot. It’s Eakins by the way.” Eakins? What? “Huh?” I end up saying, and my confusion must be very apparent on my face because Charlotte can’t help but giggle at it. “My last name, it’s Eakins.” She explains once she stops giggling. I exaggerate a pout on my face. 

“Aw, not Allen?” I joke, and Charlotte laughs again. I like making her laugh. “You’re funny, but I need more than pick-up lines to convince me.” She teases. I give her my best smile, which at this point I don’t even need to try, she just makes me smile. “But you’re open to being convinced?” I ask. 

“I just nearly fell off this bench laughing, and you think I’m not?” Charlotte leans forward, her voice still happy, but there is a sweeter tone behind what she just said. Am I about to get a date? I think I am. “Doesn’t hurt to be sure, so, how about –” I’m cut off by the sound of a phone alarm coming from Charlotte's back pocket. Charlotte looks panicked for a second as she pulls out her phone, and I watch her turn off a 12:45 pm alarm, and then look at me with a sad and sorry expression. 

“Shoot, sorry, I gotta go. This is my lunch break, and that means it’s over.” She says sheepishly, and stands up, putting her phone in her purse and shouldering it. She reaches down for her newspaper, and I scramble to hold onto her newspaper as well as she straightens. This was going well! “Wait! Can I have your number before you go?” It’s now or never it seems. 

“Planning on convincing me?” Charlotte asks, her smile coming back. I smile back. “I’d like to try.” I say, hoping my sincerity comes across in my tone. Charlotte bites her bottom lip in thought for a second, before letting go of the newspaper for the second to take out a business card and hand it to me. “Alright, here. Text me sometime, and I’ll see if I can make some time. Sell me on the surname and all that.” She says, and we trade the newspaper for the card. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring a powerpoint.” I say, and it makes Charlotte laugh. I like doing that. “Thanks for making me laugh, at least. Bye!” She turns and walks away, presumably in the direction of her work. “Anytime!” I call, and I tear my gaze away from her retreating form to examine the card she gave me. It’s a business card. Charlotte Eakins, Star Labs, Receptionist, and her number and email. Oh yeah, she was definitely dressed professionally. 

James approaches me not a moment later, setting the miraculously still unspilled drinks on the bench beside me. He looks disgruntled, probably because I left him holding so much stuff, and also watches Charlotte reach the end of the park, glance back, and then cross the street. I wave at her back, but she's already turned around. 

“So? How’d you fuck that up?” James asks. I wave the card in front of his face. “I didn’t! It worked! I’ve got a date!” And man, I am excited for it. I can already tell, it’s going to be amazing. James balks at my proof. “What the fuck? No way –” He exclaims, but I hold my hand in front of his face as I tuck her card safely away in my coat pocket. “Talk to the hand, James, talk to the hand. My flirting rocks.” Because guess what, I got the girl. I got a date. 

---

Hey! I'm going to continue this story on Ao3 if you want to read more!

You and Your Two Heaters~

A/n: Wrote while on my period and wanted some comfort, then I remembered that I can write and made this. Not proofread, might edit later, might not, who knows ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠). Anyways, enjoy⁠♡

You lay on your side within the warm safety of your nest on your bed, accompanied by your too big of a dog cuddled into your stomach called Lillie. She had joined you after hearing you whimpering from your cramps and after ensuring her you were in fact not injured, she cuddled right up against your lower stomach where it hurt the most. Because of this though, she ended up taking your heater of a boyfriend's side of the bed like she owned the spot. With a hand combing through her fur and the other holding up your phone, everything was peaceful even with your uterus deciding to curse you.

“Oh I see how it is,” that familiar gruff voice makes you smile as you turn your head to find your loveable boyfriend standing at the doorway looking playfully offended. “I leave for only an hour and I come back to have my spot stolen,” he huffs out as he sets a grocery bag down and strides to our bed.

“You snooze, you lose?” You slightly giggle out as you feel the thump of Lillie's tail wagging on the sheets. Lillie only nuzzles further into you as you laugh lightly at the cute sight. Your boyfriend mutters something along the lines of “you're lucky you're cute” before he gives you a small peck to your cheek and forces his way into your little nest.

“Did you generate more blankets while I was away? Cause there's definitely more in here than when I left,” he teases as he embraces you and adjusts you all. Lillie moved to lay more on top of you as you lay on your back, her head still on your stomach and providing warmth for your aching muscles.

“Not my fault if Lillie added some more,” you coo as you give your pup some head scratches while all three of you get comfortable again. You wince as a cramp hits harder than before and you're tempted to curl into yourself if it weren't for Lillie and your boyfriend helping you.

“I got ya princess, ‘m right here,” he purrs into your ear as he massages your pelvic region and places little butterfly kisses all along your face. You feel a small lick to your hand from Lillie and you smile softly at the boundless love surrounding you like a heavy blanket. You sink further into your little nest and lay happily with your dog and boyfriend as they comfort you through the pain. You get so comfortable that you doze off after a while, listening to the gentle sound of your boyfriend's heartbeat and your pup’s soft snoring while a movie plays in the background. Nothing could be better than this…except minus the period pain.

Lazy Morning~

A/N: I wrote this half asleep listening to Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter so this is definitely not proof read and may not make sense, but I'ma still post it cause who's gonna stop me ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ. Also, I had no one in mind for writing this so you can imagine whoever you want. Anyways, enjoy and I hope you have a good day or night.

You slowly blink away tears as you yawn, your nose cold and your fingers wrapped around something soft. You lift your head up and find your lover sound asleep still with your hands buried in his hair. With zero restraint and being far too tired to care, you grip his head a little and hide your cold nose in his neck. You feel him stirr underneath you as warm arms snake around your waist and a gentle squeeze to your sides.

“What're you doing?” you feel him murmur into your ear with his morning voice adding a rumble to his words. While normally you'd be a menace and tease him about his voice, your brain felt too fuzzy to even form a proper sentence as you press your face further into his neck.

“Nose cold…” you slur out while you snuggle into him like a chick nuzzling into its mother's feathers. You hear him chuckle deeply and feel the warm blankets on your back get pulled up more.

“Can't have that now can we,” he chuckles out as he lets you do as you please. Content to be your heated teddy bear for the moment as he threads his fingers through your messy hair. Sighing, you kiss the nape of his name with a small “thanks” before you doze off back to sleep. Fully embraced and safe in your lover's arms as he rubs circles on your back to keep you asleep. He places a kiss on your forehead as he accepts his fate and feels contentment to have a lazy morning with you. He'd keep your nose warm always, even when you could barely form a sentence.

FAMILIARITY

absolute trinity x reader | sfw

CW! gn! reader, slight angst, character x reader romantically involved, multiverse shenanigans, drabbles, spoilers for absolute comics

Summary! Absolute Trinity meeting their s/o from the mainstream universe

BATMAN

"Bruce..."

His name was soft off your lips. The heat was hot on her skin as you looked up at the tank of a mine in front of you. The Batman from your home was less big, actually a lot.

"You know me...?" His voice felt hostile. Albeit it wasn't your Bruce it was him. He was big and still handsome. "You’re different from where I know you." You smiled at him.

He was still confused it seemed.

"You can take off your mask, Bruce." You asked hesitantly.

"How can I trust you?" His lips morphed into a scowl.

You faltered but you raised your head, “I’m not sure what’ll make you trust me, but I do know your parents would be very proud of you. I know that, and my version of you knows that. Even if he doubts it.”

Bruce stared at you blankly. His giant hand raised to bull down his cowl to reveal a very young man with still some wonder in those eyes. Short black hair and baggy eyes.

You stepped forward and cradling his face between you hands. Bruce didn’t know why but he allowed you himself to lean down for you.

“You’ve been working hard.” You smiled quite sadly, “Things never change do they.” You said it like it was a fact instead of question.

He titled his head with narrowing eyes. “The other you is rich, but also just as sad. He works so hard and is always blaming himself. Doing everything to make sure Gotham thrives. Things never change.”

He nodded. His blue eyes blanking as they stared at you. Only seeing love in those eyes of yours. No matter what he’s done, or perhaps violent, whether it was him or the other him you’d love him.

“He treats you good?”

“Always. He cares too much, so much it’ll kill him if he’d ever to lose me or anyone else he cares about.” You reassured.

Bruce found himself thinking that when he met his world’s you he’d protect you too. If this was you and your original then he’d protect you too.

Yeah, he couldn’t lose anyone else otherwise he’d lose it too.

WONDER WOMAN

“Woah you’re so tall and pretty!” You giggled when looking up at the woman with flowing dark hair, blue eyes, and red tattoos.

Diana, but not your Diana. Someone who belonged to the darkness, but good. She was intimidating but she was warm like the sun. Just like your Diana.

“Why thank you.” It was her, definitely. “You’re not from here. You came through with magic. May I ask how that happened?” She mused with a tiny laugh as you got a look at her prosthetic arm.

“A man named Savage made a device that sent people to different universes. It broke in the fight and I got sucked in.”

You played with the parts of your hero costume as you stared up at her tall stature. “My Diana, she tried to save me but couldn’t reach me.” You thought of your Wonder Women.

Just as beautiful and dressed in blue,yellow, red, and white. Flowing black hair and her blue eyes. She looked like a goddess and looked like light.

“My Diana? Another version of me, good [ ]?”

“Yes, my Diana is a lot less dressed in darkness and born in Paradise Island, a land full of women called Amazons.” You noted how she froze when she heard you speak.

You wavered over her expression. “You aren’t from Themyscira. From Hell maybe?”

“How did you figure it?” Diana’s brows were up to her forehead as you giggled. “You’re whole getup kinda screams hell. But you’re still my Diana. I can see that.”

Diana hadn’t met you in her reality. She hoped you existed here, and was just as kind as you.

A smile that made you shine like the sun. A sun that Diana only experienced when she arrived her on Earth.

“I see. Well I’m glad your perception is of me being evil.” She summed up. Her arms bulking as she crossed her arms. Your eyes glittered in excitement as she did so.

“Of course, because no matter how my Diana looks I’ll always love her.” The heat from your cheeks were loud. Diana couldn’t deny the flush of her cheeks.

Truly you were the birth of the Gods. A treasure she would protect; in every universe and any version of you.

SUPERMAN

Clark, or Kal-El floating in the air with blue eyes that were haunting. He didn’t give off that golden retriever aura like you were so used to.

He wasn’t all that huge, and this Superman was lean yet fit. Those eyes weren’t all that calming but haunting. Bright gold was shining off of his suit. Long hair and fair amount of stubble on his chin and jaw.

He was distant.

So unlike your Kal-El. In fact there was no Clark Kent. Simply the his Kyrptonian identity.

If was it was there then it was nonexistent.

Suddenly you felt a red cape surround you. Kal-El coming down and wrapping it around you. Your clothes were ripped. How you got here, but all you knew is that a machine by Gorilla Grodd broke and here you were.

That last memory being Clark being too late in saving you. Tears flowing from his eyes as you escaped into a blue light, and here you were.

“Kal-El…”. You shakily spoke.

“You know me?” He spoke. His voice still as he stared at you blankly. His mind twisting in gears. “Yes, but not mine. I can see that. I’m not from here.” You looked around to see the torn down buildings.

“You’re so much different from my Kal-El. My Superman is much more smiley, but I can see there’s goodness in you.” You looked hopeful into your eyes.

“This world is ugly. Some of these humans are ugly.”

His words made you still. Kal-El looked at you when he felt you falter. Shock in your eyes. That expression fatally fell to a sad smile.

“This world has been cruel to you.” Your hand drifted to his face. He didn’t know why but he allowed himself to melt into your touch. “But you still want to help. Humans are horrible but still fighting will make a difference.”

His expression seemed somewhere else. Like he was hearing someone else’s voice. Blue eyes flickering everywhere for anyone around you two. They came back to you and looking your eyes, locking eyeballs.

A hopeful look in them, “In your world, is it good?”

“Yes, and evil. But we do our best because even the tiniest effort can make the difference, Kal-El.” You gave him a smile. Cupping his face to which he melted.

A loud explosion was heard from elsewhere. Immediately you found yourself in his chest. His suit feeling different, and not made out of cloth like your Superman.

Kal-El made up his mind. Until you could return back to your universe he would protect you. Your world needed your goodness, and so did his other version.

After all it was true. Even if his suit said otherwise. Because maybe a world can be saved from themselves.

Just one step at a time.

MOONLIGHT DROPS

bruce wayne x reader x selina kyle | nsfw

CW! threesome, battinson, after events of Batman (2022), recieving oral (selina) , switch Bruce, top selina, bottom reader, gn! reader, riding, unprotected sex (pls be safe in real life)

"Move your hips, baby." Her voice was like smooth butter. You whined as you worked down on the organ below you.

The man below her, on her heat groan when you met his pelvis. "Selina! I don't think I-"

"You can." A teasing smile made way on her face. You flushed red seeing that. Her hands cupped your face as you cried from the stretch.

"C'mon move. Make Brucie feel good." She licked her lips as you followed her order. You rolled your hips on Bruce. Thighs burning and tearful eyes you cried out feeling his cock hitting all your special points.

Bruce moaned below.

Selina moaned in response. "Come here, baby." Her lips interlocked with yours. Silencing your cries of pleasure.

"Ah fuck- Bruce!" Selina laughed. Bruce was pressing his fingers hard into her thighs while eating her out. "What a good boy!" She ruffled his hair as he kept going.

Even more; she was getting off to you being subjected to his tiny thrusts up into you. You still tried to keep on the rolls of your hips but it hurt to do so.

"Make me cum, honey." She caressed Bruce's head gently, while also tugging on his hair to make him go harder. "Make our baby cum, okay?" She grinned seeing you utterly fucked out.

No longer were you moving your hips and were being subjected to his tiny thrusts.

Selina grinded her cunt against his tongue. Her moans loud and passionate. Her fingers moved and tugged and twisted at your nipples. You cried in response and holding onto her shoulders.

"Selinaaa nooo!"

She let out a cruel laugh and it turned into a loud moan as she came from Bruce’s expert tongue. “Oh good boy, Bruce.” She laughed while on your ass.

“Go on look up.”

Bruce looked up where you found the grease paint running down his face. His hands adjusted their hold on your hips and thrusted fast and hard. You yelped and moaned his name.

“Go harder. Faster.” Selina smirked as she came behind you and placed her hands on your waist which made you go faster. You flinched at her tongue.

Both she and Bruce were making a mess out of you. She kissed you and used her tongue. The vibrations of your moans were muffled in her mouth. Your ears could hear Bruce loudly moaning whimpering both your names.

Selina pulled at your chest with ease as she maked out with you with no shame. You flung your head way to cry from the overbearing pleasure. A feeling in your gut becoming worse the more Bruce’s thrusts became more erratic.

“What a good job you’re doing.” She giggled.

You ended up coming and Bruce kept on going. Overstimulated so much do to Selina’s tampering with your body. Her kitten lips at your chest making it so much worse. Clinging to her shoulders as Bruce handled his last few thrusts.

Coming inside you deeply and nice.

You and Bruce both moaning loudly. Your own body shivering from the amount of stimulation that was attacking your body. Selina didn’t let up on your assault at first but she soon did when you made a face.

“Good job kittens.” She giggled. You pulled against her chest, and Bruce scrambled to hug both you and her.

You felt plump feeling of Selina’s breasts against your neck and Bruce’s pecs in front of your face. You felt loved and cared for.

And trapped as you heard Selina and Bruce share a kiss. Selina taking the lead and making a sensitive Bruce weep when her hand wrapped around his cock.

You cried feeling Bruce’s hands drifted over your previously wreaked opening. His callous fingertips drenched in you and entering and you cried.

Once again Selina tweaked your chest and Bruce dug in to you like a buffet.

You were in for a long night and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

𝗕𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰

𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻

Batfamily x reader incorrect quotes #2

Jason: My life isn’t as glamorous as my wanted poster makes it look like.

Bruce: What are your goals? Damian: To pet all the dogs. Bruce: No, fitness goals. Damian: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

You: What’s this? Dick: My to-do list. You: Oh? That’s great. You’re starting to get organiz— You: This just says '(Name)'

Jason: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait. You: You and me!!! Jason, tearing up: Okay.

You: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground. Bruce: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that.

Damian: *Accidentally hits you in the face* Damian: *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'* Damian: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?! You: What’s wrong with you?!

Tim, at a restaurant: You guys should get the orange soda, it's amazing. You: Okay Waiter: Can I get you guys anything to drink? Tim: Orange soda, please! Damian: I'll have the strawberry soda. You: Me too, strawberry soda. Tim:

Bruce: While I’m gone, Damian, you’re in charge. Damian: Yes!!! Bruce, whispering: Alfred, you’re secretly in charge. Alfred: Obviously.

You: The stars are so beautiful... Damian: They're just giant balls of gas. You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Damian: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. You: Oh...

Dick: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. You: Three words. Dick:

Bruce: Where are you going? Jason: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

You: You saved me. I owe you my life. Damian: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

You: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Dick: It’s not a joke. Dick: *sniffles* Dick: I’m a legit snack. It’s not a joke.

Batfam x reader incorrect quotes:

Damian: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

Bruce, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. You: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Bruce, with the tone of someone who is used to You: Outstanding. You: This is what I’m talking about people.

Tim: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. You: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Tim: Absolutely not.

You: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Damian: You mean literally or figuratively? You: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

Damian: God, give me patience. Tim: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Damian: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead.

You: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Jason: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

You: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Damian: Go the fuck to sleep You: What gif I don't want to? Damian: Fuck You

Bruce: I actually have a black belt. You: In what, karate? Bruce: No, from Gucci.

You: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars. Damian: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

You: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Dick: You would eat yourself? You: I wouldn’t even question it.

Tim: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It? You: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!! Tim: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.

me tryna read a long ass fanfic but I know I have a attention span that's shortter than 15 seconds:

DC Masterlist

Request Rules

Bruce Wayne

Nothing yet

Dick Grayson

Nothing yet

Jason Todd

SFW Fluff Alphabet

Fluff Headcanons - Requested

Big Spoon or Little Spoon?

You Playing Doctor Now? - Requested (Meta!Reader)

Tim Drake

Nothing Yet

Damian Wayne

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Batfamily

Nothing Yet

SOMEONE WRITE MORE PLATONIC DICK X READER/BATFAM X READER FICS😭

I need inspo for my batsis!oc💔💔

"Young and Beautiful"

Prologue

ya'll, I cannot sleep with my arm in this stupid cast, so i started rereading "the great Gatsby" (my comfort book) and i got this idea. i know, i know, i have 3 unfinished fics buttttttt i'm injured and this is my blog and i have free will so i'm writing this. This is yandere romantic batboys and bruce x reader. BUT set in the roaring 20's. Send in asks, requests, ideas, and just what you think about this! Likes, comments, reblogs and asks are encouraged and keep me going! Love yall <333. This is written in 1st person, reader is recalling events in her journal. This is a rough draft for the prologue! Sorry if it doesnt make sense, i'm high off pain meds writing this bc i'm BORED.

The first time I saw Jason Todd, he was nothing to me Just another boy in my father’s estate, covered in dirt, hands rough from labor, his bruised knuckles proof of a fight he hadn’t won. His blue eyes were sharp, full of something wild, something untamed, something that made you bristle, the kind of fire you knew to stay away from, even at 12 years old.

The first time I spoke to Jason Todd, two years after I saw him, I thought he was filth.

He was a boy covered in dirt, his hands stained with mud and the smell of horses, his knuckles raw from a fight he clearly hadn’t won. His face was sharp, bruised, skinny and too wild for someone who worked under my father’s name. He was nothing, just another street rat lucky enough to be given work in my father’s stables, another nameless stray that old Mr. Wilkes had dragged in from the gutters of Gotham. He smelled like sweat, hay, and something sharp, something angry.

I was fourteen years old and wore pearls around my throat, a silk dress with delicate lace at the sleeves. My father’s estate stretched over rolling green fields, our mansion standing tall like something out of a dream. My mother’s hands were soft, her perfume sweet, and I had never known hunger or want. My world was a world of glittering lights and expensive champagne, of high society and grand parties, of people who smiled with their teeth but whispered behind painted fans.

Jason Todd did not belong in my world.

Yet, somehow, he slipped in like a stain on silk.

We met on the back steps of the estate, where the stable boys cut through to the gardens. I was waiting for my automobile when he nearly ran into me, boots dragging dust over my polished shoes.

Jason Todd? He was filth beneath my shoes.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself.

Because the first time I met him, he nearly ran into me.

He didn’t bow like other servants did, he didn’t apologize profusely and beg for forgiveness.

He barely even looked at me before muttering, “Watch it,” like I was in his way.

I had never been spoken to like that in my life.

I hated him immediately.

I took a startled step back, wrinkling my nose at the smell of sweat, hay, and horse.

The nerve.

I straightened my back like Daddy told me to when I wanted to look serious and I tilted my chin up as I stared down at him. "Excuse me?"

Jason smirked, slow and lazy, eyes glinting with amusement. "Did I stutter?"

I had never wanted to slap someone so badly.

Instead, I remember turning and walked away, forgetting my plans of going into town, heels clicking sharply against the stone, vowing to never look at him again and to hate him forever, no matter how handsome he was,.

That vow didn’t last long, especially when he took off his shirt.

Jason was everywhere.

I saw him at the stables, his shirtless back slick with sweat, muscles shifting under tanned skin as he worked. I saw him sneaking apples from the kitchen, disappearing into the trees, laughter on his lips. I saw him in the streets, fists flying, always coming back with fresh bruises, always alive in a way no one else was.

And then, you heard about him.

"That stable boy got into another fight," the maids whispered. "Damn near killed the other boy, apparently the other kid got smart about his lady."

At the time, I thought the strange burning feeling in my gut was disgust at even hearing Jason's name. Now I know, what I felt was pure jealousy, not knowing the 'lady' Jason nearly killed a boy over was me.

"He’s trouble," my mother warned when I asked about him at dinner. "Keep away from him, sweetheart."

"He won’t last long here," my mother sighed. "That kind of boy never does, no matter how much of a soft spot your father has for him."

My father pitied Jason, told me I oughta be nicer to him like I am to the other workers (he would regret that statement soon.)

He had no one. No mother, no father, no family, nothing but the clothes on his back and determination. He had what my father called "the look of a man who'd rather die than fail" and my father respected that.

But Jason did last.

I hated him.

Hated the way he smirked at me from across the gardens, like he knew something I didn’t.

I hated the way he never bowed, never apologized, never treated me like the others did.

I hated that when I was alone, when my father’s friends spoke about marrying me off to the sons of their business partners, I thought of Jason Todd instead.

The first conversation I had with Jason Todd was after I had fought with my father.

It was about marriage. About duty. About a boy I didn’t love.

I ran into the garden dramatically ignoring my father's desperate calls, pearls at my throat, tears in my eyes.

And Jason was already there.

Sprawled under an oak tree, cigarette between his lips, watching me like he’d been waiting for this moment all his life.

"You rich girls cry over the dumbest shit," he muttered.

I whipped around. "What did you just say to me?" How dare he speak to me like I was any other girl, like this wasn't my home, like he didn't work for my father.

Jason pushed himself up, boots kicking up dirt as he smirked. "You ever go to bed hungry?"

My breath caught. He had a point, you were privileged.

"Ever steal to survive?" His voice was low, teasing, sharp. "Ever wake up in the morning and wonder if you’ll still have a roof over your head by sundown?"

I didn’t answer, for the first time in years I felt something close to shame.

Jason tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with resentment. "Didn’t think so, princess."

I hated him. He made me feel childish. He humbled me. He burst my perfect bubble.

And I loved him for it.

I loved him for making you feel something real.

And that was the beginning of everything.

I loved Jason Todd.

I loved him when he me you out of the house at midnight and made me ride my horse bareback through the fields.

I loved him when he knocked the rich boy who called me a tease's teeth out.

I loved him when he threw pebbles at my window on the third floor and scaled the walls to my balcony.

I loved him when he kissed me for the first time at 14 under the summer stars, hands gripping my waist, mouth desperate against mine.

"You’re my Jason, my Jaybird," I whispered against his lips. Corny, but nothing felt better to say, especially when I saw his face.

Jason smiled like I had given him the whole damn world.

And he? He was my whole world.

When Jason was seventeen and I was fifteen, he walked into my father’s grand house, dressed in his best suit, nervous but determined and proud, his hands clean for once, his boots polished.

He asked my father for my hand in marriage. He asked my father for my hand and I thought he would say yes. Daddy always thought he was a hard worker, called him a real good sport.

He stood before my father and said, “I love her, sir. I’ll make her happy. Give me a chance. I ain't got much now, but one day I will. I'll give her what she's got and more.”

My father just laughed.

“Boy,” he said, shaking his head, “she’s not meant for men like you.”

Jason left that night, whispering a promise against my skin.

"I’ll come back for you, I'll be great. Be a man like how your daddy wants, rich and proper, he'll have to say yes."

I waited, god knows I did.

I wrote letters to the last address he gave me every single day.

For five years. Till I turned twenty. I never looked at another man, I had my Jason.

I waited for him to reply, fought off suitors and pressure from my mother. I waited for a reply, that he was coming soon, that he missed me.

I waited.

And my Jaybird never came back.

My father loved me.

He regretted turning Jason away five years later, when I still refused to marry. He never forced me to marry, not even when the years passed and my suitors grew frustrated with my refusals.

He saw my misery, my longing and admitted, “I should’ve said yes. I should’ve let you have him.”

He thought my Jason was a passing infatuation, he wondered what people would say about his daughter marrying the stable boy.

He wished he saw my love for Jason sooner.

But love wasn’t enough to keep the debt collectors away.

I knew something was wrong when my father began to look stressed, when my parents began to argue, and when I heard my mother cry herself to sleep after selling her favorite pearls.

My father was going to loose everything all at once.

The steel business wasn't what it used to be.

And then suddenly, Bruce Wayne arrived like a knight in shining armor.

He was older than me, 18 years my senior. Refined, powerful, and dangerously charming.

And most importantly, rich. He was exactly what I needed to stop my family's fall from grace.

Bruce courted me like a gentleman.

He sent roses every morning, took me to the finest restaurants, whispered in my ear about a future where I would never want for anything again.

He was patient.

He never forced me to love him.

He only asked for one thing.

"Let me take care of you."

I kept Bruce waiting for three months. All I could do was think of Jason. I knew he was not returning, that he either was dead or found some other pretty girl to make promises to.

I told myself love was not enough to fill an empty stomach and keep my parents happy like they did for me.

I told myself that Jason Todd was not coming back to save me, yet each morning I woke up waiting for a letter or pebbles thrown at my window.

After four months of courting, I decided.

And at twenty, I became Mrs. Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd never sent me a single letter, but I still dreamed of my Jaybird even as I looked at the massive ring on my finger.

OKKKKK SO WHAT YA'LL THINK??? CONTINUE OR DELETE??? FLOP OR BOP? SEND IN ASKS!!!! I MISS YALL! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ROMANCE W JASON AND BRUCE. I REALLY LIKE THIS AU!!!! WHAT DO YALL THINK IS GONNA HAPPEN? SORRU IF IT SUCKS OR DOESNT MAKE SENSE, I'M SO HIGH BRO.

BE NICE PLEASE, I'M IN PAIN! THIS IS NOT EDITED OR PROOF READ.

"I bet on losing dogs"

ok this is like my first time actually writing anything EVER, and I don't know how to work tumblr or make this aesthetic so bare with me pls!! I keep seeing yandere batfam x neglected reader and I have had so many ideas so I'm giving this a shot! The reader is referred to with female pronouns but you can imagine it different if you want :) Reader is 2 years older than Damian and is 15 at the start of the story. Damian is 13. Dick is around 10 years older than reader, making him 25 right now. Jason is 8 years older than reader, making him 23. Tim is 2 years older than reader making him 17. Cass is 4 years older than reader and is 19. Stephanie is 3 years older than reader and is 18. Barbra is around 8 years older, making her 23! Bruce is around 35-40ish??? All just kinda guesses to make the plot and dynamics more clear, lmk if you have any questions!!

This is the prolouge and it kinda sucks so pls be nice. Hearts and comments are appreciated. If it's bad ignore it, english isn't my first language. Chapter one:, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4:

You couldn't understand it. You aren't a bad kid, so why were you treated like one? Why did your father treat you like the bane of his existence? Why did your older brothers see you as nothing more than dirt at the bottom of their shoes, a ghost in the manor, a blemish on their picture perfect family of misfits. You tried so so hard to fit in, to be part of the family. You wasted 11 YEARS of your life trying to get noticed, doing activities and hobbies you hated in the hopes of striking conversation with your "siblings". Batman, Bruce Wayne, your "father", ignored you no matter what. He ignored you like it was his job, from the day you came to the manor on your fourth birthday, your mother's death day, to today, your 15th birthday. You saved his life, his and all those other ungrateful losers who you used to call family. Yesterday, you put you life on the line for them, got bitten by that damn snake for them, and they ignored you and told you to walk it off while coddling the girl who suddenly appeared. Never again would you help them, nor would you brush off their mistreatment, not after this betrayal. Not after they took in another girl, a girl your age, the girl who took credit for your heroic act, the girl who bullied you for years at Gotham Prep, the girl who made your life living hell, and called HER family. They choose Tiffany Maverick to be their supposed savior, they would never believe you had the bravery to help them. They chose her to be Tiffany Wayne and scorned you.

You did nothing wrong, from the day you came to the manor you were perfect. Straight A's, no attitude, no complaints and no demands. All you did was try, try, try, and they never noticed.

Richard "The Dick" Grayson, as you and your friends call him, was the world's best big brother to everyone, except you of course! He was your first brother, he was the kid that Bruce Wayne actually wanted to take under his wing. You were 5 and he was 15, he was busy being Robin and then Nightwing. Alfred assured you that Dick adored you, you were his baby sister after all, he was just busy! In later years you realized he was only busy when it came to you. He made time for Damian no matter what, always attended Cassandra's ballet recitals, chatted with Tim and ruffled his hair, and he even dealt with Jason's snarky attitude and biting remarks. Yet, somehow when it came to you, he never had time. Always brushing you off with a shoulder pat and a "Maybe next time sweetheart!" and rolling his eyes when he thought you weren't looking. He's been making time for Tiffany or Tiffybear, as he loves to call her while pinching her cheeks and calling her his favorite little sister, "Don't tell Cass though!" he'll whisper to her. You don't even think he can remember your name. Or that once upon a time you were his "baby bird."

It makes you sick watching her take credit for everything, she's only been in the manor for 6 months and they've all given her more love than they have to you in the past 11 years. She took credit for all your awards, she told everyone she was top of your class, made them "homemade" cakes and muffins. It was all you. She stole everything.

Jason Todd, the red hood, was so mean to you. You used to admire him, looked up to him, and he took all your kind words and gestures for granted and spit them back in your face. Once upon a time, he was your favorite brother, you wanted to be as confident and unshakeable as him, it didn't matter how mean he was now because he was you brother and you loved him. The bond you had before his death was something you couldn't let go of, he was the only one who loved you. When he first came to the manor he was 12 and you came a couple months later. An adorable 4 year old who followed her favorite brother like a duckling. You were 7 when he died. You were 12 when he came back to haunt Bruce and Dick and Tim. You chased after him and tried to resurrect the bond you had for 3 long years. You gave up when you saw them. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw him and Tiffany sneaking out the manor on a school night, you almost threw up when you saw him strap her on his motorcycle and leave for hours. They came back with shit-eating grins and cupcakes for everyone from a 24hr bakery, everyone except you. The bakery you asked him to take you to months ago. Tiffany saw the tears in your eyes and your clenched fists and she laughed.

Timothy Drake-Wayne, you first saw him after Jason died. Tim, in your 10 year old mind, was trying to steal your dad. Bruce ignored you even more after Jason's death and shut everyone out. Your bond with Tim was non-existent no matter how hard you tried. After you realized he wasn't trying to replace Jason, and saw how he was helping your father heal in ways you couldn't, you tried to bond with him. You attempted to play his video games and ignored his complete disintrest in you and anything that had to do with you in hopes he might come to appreciate you. You brought him coffee after long patrols, asked him about his day, asked to meet his friends, you picked up all his hobbies like hacking, cooking, reading even martial arts and yet he ignored you. You tried to find him in hallways at school, only to be treated like a stranger when you found him. He was embarrassed that you were his sister. You were chubby and awkward and didn't have many friends, he didn't want his cool kid friends to know you were his sister. For 5 long years you chased after him, for 5 years you chased a ghost, and somehow Tiffany captured his attention using one of the gadget-thingys you made in hopes to impress him. She walks the hallways of Gotham Prep with him, a perfect sibling duo, he even had her lunch moved so she could sit with him and his friends. He wasn't embarrassed of her. You watched them get closer in 6 months than you have in 5 years. And it hurt.

But perhaps what hurt most is her newfound bond with Damian. Your baby brother. You tried the hardest with Damian, almost as hard as you tried with Bruce, and yet he chose her while all you got was a sword to your neck and sneers of disgust thrown your way. Damian moved in when you were 12. You were elated, if you couldn't have good older siblings, at least you could be one! That plan went to hell when you realized Damian saw you as less than him. No matter how hard you tried, returned your love with disgust. You tried to show him around school like you wished Tim did for you and he called you " A waste of space and Wayne DNA" and said that there was no way you were of "Wayne" blood and that your "whore of a mother" had to have deceived his father, in front of your two friends and half the school. You could've handled his cruel words if he didn't begin attempting to duel you to become your father's heir. About a year ago, when you tried to hug him he threw you down the stairs and you broke your ankle, you stopped trying with him after that. He was so possessive over Bruce and now that somehow transferred to Tiffany too. You'd feel bad for her if she wasn't eating his obsession with her up.

Barbra, Cassandra, and Stephanie were the "It girls." All practically sisters, they hung out almost everyday and had sleepovers every Friday. They giggled about boys, hook-ups, missions and bonded over everything. You wanted be one of them, you tried so hard to be cool, to be pretty, and they could only see your flaws. You curled your hair and did your nails in hope you would blend with them, you even attempted to be Batgirl at one point. You were quickly denied after Stephanie pointed out that you didn't have the right 'physique' for it. Barbra quickly agreed and said you weren't cut out for it, Cassandra simply looked you up and down. Thats why it hurt extra when they welcomed Tiffany with open arms. Suddenly, she could be Batgirl. She talked to them about boys and bonded with them over girl things. She stole your sisters.

You figured out Tiffany was a spy almost as soon as she came into the manor. Her apperance and ability to act like it was her who saved the Bats from the Joker and his new radioactive snake was not a coincidence, neither was her becoming a vigilante only two weeks after coming into the manor, and neither was you catching her walking out the Batcave with arms full of Batman's weapons and plans. You couldn't believe your luck and pulled out your phone to take a picture, too bad you left the flash on. Tiffany quickly noticed you and tried to explain that it was a misunderstanding when Bruce came into the hallway. You beamed at the sight of him and began to explain what you saw Tiffany doing, only Tiffany was faster. She was quick to blame you for everything, and Batman, the world's greatest detective believed her. She said that you bullied her at school and you were so jealous of her joining the family that you went to steal plans and took pictures to frame her. It was a shitty lie and somehow everyone believed it. You still remember the cold indifference on Bruce's face, the sadness on Alfred's, the look of pure delight on Damian's, the shock on Dick's, the interest on Tim's and the disappointment and disgust on Jason's. Something shifted in you that night. You didn't feel an overwhelming amount of love and longing when you looked at your family, you felt anger. Pure unadultered rage, rage at Bruce for never loving you, rage at Dick for being a liar, rage at Jason for throwing away your bond and cool indifference and disgust at the rest of them.

Maybe that's why your abilities finally formed. Maybe thats why the place the snake bit you that fateful night began to glow as you cried in your bathtub, after being scolded all night and getting body slammed by Damian for trying to "taint his dear sister's image". You had powers now, the agility of a snake, you could eject venom out of your fingertips, you could walk on walls, now you could prove them all wrong.

okayyyy yall this was the prolouge. Again this is my 1st attempt at writing so be nice. If enough people like this I'll put out part one. Hope yall enjoyed and lmk what you want to happen next in the comments!!!!!!!!!

I’ll update my masterlist soon while I’m on my little mini hiatus- only a week and half left of school, I’ll be back soon!!!

(In the meantime please leave request, I love getting them!!!)

-Liv xoxo

I’m taking a (somewhat) short break 🫶🏻

I’ve got about 4 weeks left for my semester at college and my professors are loading me up with work. I would love to write right now, but I’m just trying to not burn out with school work. I hope that you guys can understand.

In the meantime I hope that you guys can load up my requests, that way I can have plenty of stuff for you guys when I return!!! I know I don’t have a lot of followers but you guys mean so much to me so I love you guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

See you guys in a bit!

-Liv 🫶🏻

Thats for ALL the fandoms i'm in and it hurts like hell

me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines