Highkey hopping in omgwwt she ends up with no one cuz they lowkey give me the ick đ love your writing but oof.
Also lowkey just want her to just act out of script/different than how she acts in their fantasies cuz it seems these boys(and everyone who writes fics about her) wants her to be the submissive one đ.
I lowkey forgot about this so it was nice coming back to like 4 chapters to read
Iâm sorry itâs giving you the ick! I like a submissive reader thatâs trying their best. đŤŁ
But, I think you have a point. The boys need a wake up call and need to realize how pathetic they are for reader.
Oh my God, Oh my God. Who wrote this? - Twenty Seven
Neglected!Reader x Yandere!Batfam
Tim laments. And, Reader decides to eavesdrop on Dick. But, it goes horribly wrong.
Warnings: Yandere themes, GN!Reader, Pesudo-Incest (Reader does NOT see themselves as part of the family), Readerâs age is ambiguous (i.e. They're not a minor, but there's no official number), CRACK, Timmy actually has somewhat wholesome thoughts, Dick and Reader not so much, mind the slight NSFW warning
Platonic Route
Prologue
Master List
It was the shot of simple shot of you smiling that did it for Tim.
He knew he got passionate when it came to you. Which he also blamed you for. It wasn't his fault you were beautiful.
Attraction was a key factor, but it was the that smile that go him every time. Bruce had a charming one and he'd done research on your mother. And, it looked like hers. But, different. It was both more awkward and more confident than either. As if you were nervous, but could still power through it.
He hadn't even bothered to scroll through the other pictures you'd posted. Though, he would later in private. But, really he just wanted to see that confident little walk you did. The one where you were happy and carefree for five seconds before you usually and comically tripped on air.
And, instead he finds you somehow asking a mugger to get coffee. Of all the damn things.
Tim would've laughed if he hadn't felt that flicker of fear for you shoot down his spine like an electrical shock. He might have hit the goon harder than necessary, but Barbara had quickly confirmand he was a suspected trafficker for Black Mask by the time he slammed him into the pavement. It was much harder to feel guilty for it.
He expected it to be different. You've interacted with Nightwing, the friendly one, and Red Hood had been the gentleman. Now, here REd Robin was knocking a guy out in front of you. he didn't expect to be treated like Tim Drake. The much too young neurotic CEO and genius nerd.
So it took him a little by surprise when you teased him after his terrible excuse of wanting to do so many dirty things to you on this supposed first meeting.
"Would a lil' kiss help?"
"Yeah, it would. Thanks." God, he was getting punched in the face for this. But, it was so worth tasting that silly little mouth. Feeling those lips that wore his favorite smile so frequently. He wasn't crazy enough to take it to far, but he was eager. Too damn eager. And, pulling away had been torture and watching you walk away had been brutal.
That snap of the man's ribs had been his coping mechanism of choice for the evening. And, had brought him back to reality enough to focus on the rest of his night. But, worth it. You were worth every bit of it.
âI kissed them first. And, neither one of you can change that."
"Motherfucker, you didn't-"
"It's not going to mean much in the long run, asshole. Not when their mine."
"Oh, shut up, dickface. Possessive much?â
âPot calling the kettle black.â
"It doesn't matter if either of you win them over, I still kissed them first. And, they asked. I will always have that. And, I'm still gonna win."
"Shut up, Timbo. You're acting as if theyâre some prize. They're everything."
"Agreed. Still winning though."
"I'm helping Dick punch you in the face."
"Worth it."
"Fuuuuuuuuuck." You're whispering it for once, mostly because it's morning, early morning, and crashouts are scheduled for after 7:30 am. Unless it's before 5:00 am. In which case, go fucking nuts.
Anyway, you were currently dealing with your new reality. The one in which you had made lip contact with Red Robin. AKA, Tim Drake.
Sure, a few nights ago you'd nearly seen Dick's penis, but there had been no contact or actual penis in your vision. Just your radius. And, now that Jason was officaially on the dark side of sweet smut you had realized, shit just got a little too real.
The slow burn you'd imagined might be burning a little hotter and faster than anticipated.
Great. Great.
Not like you have any experience to go off of other than Babsâs plans. Which was drastic. It wasn't even about the adoptive sibling aspect anymore.
"I can't fuck them." That was a line you had to draw. This was clearly a strange competition and you couldn't add that into the mix without hurting someone. And, that was another horrific thing you realized.
Someone was going to be hurt, unless they all the sudden decided to team up and share you. Of which, RIP your ability to walk. AlthoughâŚ
"No. No, no, no. Too naughty. Focus, you're not that slutty. Maybe." Eh, it was better to think about what information you did have. They were too jealous from what you could tell via writing. You're not quite certain how jealous or to what level. But, there was enough evidence there to say it was there.
God, you should probably go eat breakfast. But, you might run into one of them. Unless they were all sleeping off patrol in their rooms.
Which⌠Might not be a bad thing. Might be able to see if anyone was affected by your little photo shoot yesterday. Hehehe. Time to get sneaky sneaky.
Crawling from your bed, you don't exactly bother getting ready for the day. No point, you were nearly mugged yesterday. You had to look somewhat traumatized and pathetic from it. Pity points meant none of them would suspect a thing.
As you made your way to the stairs, you cursed. The only room you could pass without drawing suspicion was Dick's. Which was at least something. But, not enough.
So you made sure to move extra slow. Sometimes he stayed in the manor, sometimes he stayed in Bludhaven. Really, now that you think about it, one of your plans should be to visit hisâ
âFuck, youâre so beautiful.â
Why thank youâ OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT SOUNDED LIKE A MOAN!
Dick was inâ Dick was in his room. And, there were noises coming from it.
Freezing on the steps, you quickly throw your morals out the window, and sneak over towards the door. Fist raised to knock. But, you donât. Itâs just incase you get confronted by anyone else walking by. Proper planning.
But, holy fuck, were you listening to this shit. For research purposes.
Hey, you needed to know which picture did it for him and this was faster than waiting for him to post another fic or update his.
Thus far, all you could hear was only a bunch of moans and groans, and little gasps of air that had your insides doing slippery things. Lots of murmured praises too. Some that definitely had you getting hot and bothered. But, which picture was it.
âWant to spread you apart and have you watch me slide myââ Oh, mirror pic. It was the mirror pic and you were totally not imagining that. Fuck, no. No. No.
It wasnât like you already read a fic he wrote about that. Not at all.
Oh, who were you kidding. You were, and you were imagining what he was doing on the other side of that door. Which hand he was holding the phone with and which hand he was using to tease himself. The color he flushed as he got close.
âWhat are you doing?â
âOh, my god.â You whisper scream, for once in your life. Slowly turning around with the look of utter guilt and embarrassment as Jason stands in the middle of the hallway looking at you with a raised brow.
âNothing.â Bitch, you had been caught in the middle of being a voyeur. You were never going to emotionally recover from this. Sign your ass up for Arkham now. Get the padded cell ready. You were busted.
âReally? Because youâve been standing there for roughly two minutesââ
And, Dick chooses that exact moment to let out the loudest groan of his early morning meat beating session. For both Jason and your ears to hear the pleasant sound of.
That wasn't even the finale. Because now you just hear faint sound of what you think and maybe pray is your name being said over and over.
"I don't know what to do." Cover your ass and play dumb, you stupid little pervert.
"I fucking do. Move."
đĽď¸Ko-Fi Link
A/N: I feel like this chapter was too simple despite my attempts to push it. How frustrating. At least I outlined some of this now. I will now be adding freak ideas, suggestions are welcome.
A/N: And, yeah, no smut. At least not in the main storyline. Sequels and multi endings on the other hand.... maybe. No promises.
To clarify, my Readers are basically my ocs, just without their physical descriptions. Fanfic!reader has sorta been theyâre own thing since OMGWWT started.
(OMGWWT) I really want a reaction of Bruce when he finds out about his sons and what they are writing. Pretty all her siblings already know about this only Bruce is unaware
Oh my God, Oh my God. Who wrote this? - Twenty Six
Neglected!Reader x Yandere!Batfam
Modeling goes well, but you're wallet and you're mouth get violated right after though.
Warnings: Yandere themes, GN!Reader, Pesudo-Incest (Reader does NOT see themselves as part of the family), Readerâs age is ambiguous (i.e. They're not a minor, but there's no official number), CRACK, strike a pose, and kissy kissy smoochy smoochy with Timmy Timmy.
Platonic Route
Prologue
Master List
How did you get roped into this exactly?
When Barbara, Babs - as she insisted you call her officially, scheduled you for a boudoir photography session you had assumed you'd have a few days to dread the upcoming appointment. Not find yourself on the other side of Gotham that same evening knocking on some stranger's door ready to take tasteful nudes. Apparently, there was an opening, and the Gotham sunset was the perfect light to do this in. Yikes and, also, gulp.
Now, the woman taking the pictures, bless her, was literally perfectly normal. Almost, suspiciously normal. But, less suspicious because she wasn't a Gotham native. Lauren was normal, looked normal, acted normal. But, clocked your nervousness right away and eased you into things.
"Let's start simple. Good portraits, some candid shots. Lots of blankets. And, when your ready I have some modesty stickers and pasties so you don't feel too exposed. It's nothing I haven't seen before and nothing to be embarrassed about. And, don't worry, you can watch me edit them and I keep this all on hard drives you get to keep so there's no photo leaks."
Very practical, though that last part you doubted considering where you lived and who these were for. They'd find them. Or, Barbara would use them as new bribing material. But, it was nice to know that the Gotham Gazette wouldn't be printing your ass cheeks in full color for the morning magazine shot. God only knows what craziness would come of that.
Actually, maybe there was idea there, you thought as you pose. In a bed with crispy white sheets, tastefully draped over your carefully arched body in the last rays of Gotham sunlight. Lauren said to throw your head back as if you were about to laugh. And, you did. Just as you bent your back at that correct angle. Make it look like you where having a good time, she said. And, oddly enough, you were.
There was something fabulously silly about pretending to be some high end model. Legs in the air like a pin up, or lips pouting while she took an photo of your reflection in the mirror and got the absolute best sides of you. One's you didn't even know you had.
The photos looked phenomenal. From what you'd seen at least. Already she put some in simple black and white filters that looked seductive and mysterious, yet tasteful. But, the ones with the sunset? Wet dream worth. Or, haunting someone's dreams. Either way-
"These are perfect! How'd you start doing this?"
"Oh, I was a model once. Got tired of photographers yelling at me though and thought I could do better."
"You were right about that. Here, let me make a few post and get you some extra exposure. And, an extra tip. Wow, these are amazing." You weren't even thinking about the stir it would cause when you said that. But, you weren't going to miss a double opportunity to post a few of these photos out there and tease the mess out of your Gotham avian stalkers. Haha, motherfuckers. Suffer.
Damn, Babs was right. Had you looksmaxing in these photos and finally you had prime material to use. Genius. Brilliant.
Unfortunately, you were lacking in such departments because it was now night fall and you had cheerfully said good bye to Lauren before walking back to your car. Let me repeat that.
YOU WERE WALKING BACK TO YOUR FANCY ASS PORSCHE AT NIGHT IN GOTHAM.
Dumbass, this is how you end up shot. Or, in your case, your fancy ass gets mugged. Hard.
You barely get out of sight before your shoved in a musty smelling alleyway by someone bigger than you with a lot less to lose and a knife. Way to close to your skin then you want and a cold brick wall against your back.
"Wallet, phone, jacket, and any other fancy thing's on ya. Fast and now." A scratchy voice ordered as a body pressed you against the wall. And, with that level of confidence in this city, you had a feeling this guy had experience mugging.
Meaning, you probably weren't gonna die, but you probably weren't gonna keep your stuff before anyone showed up.
"O-okay, okay. Just- Give me a minute. First official mugging, you know."
"How's this ya first muggin'? Ain't live in Gotham long?" Shit, shit, shit. You lived here for years. In the rich part of town. Saying that would only make it worse. Just take your stuff out and hand it too him. Wallet, phone, your jacket, and- shit.
The keys to your Porsche hit the ground next to you. Barely in the faint stream of light form the flickering street lamp, enough to illuminate the expensive logo on them.
And, the mugger recognizes it.
"Ah, rich kid. You know, maybe I'm too harsh. Why don't we talk a walk?"
"I mean, if you wanna get a coffee I could pay?" The fuck are suggesting?
This asshole probably wants to ransom your precious butt and you're suggesting late-night coffee like that would change his mind?! You've already been kidnapped once, thank you. This could be worse than the last once where you had to escape with your damn mouth.
Even he looked confused.
"I was expectin' someone uptown to be out of touch, but damn-"
There was an almost sickening crack as the mugger was slammed on to the concrete in front of you by a shadowy figure. Someone was saving you.
"Oh, thank God you're here. I was making this so much worse."
"You were offering him coffee." Ah, shit. That sounds like Tim. A pissed Tim. In a red and black costume.
Looking up to check your breath hitches because for wearing a full on birdy suit he sure looked intimidating in that cowl of his in the alleyway light.
"I'm kinda panicking. Mildly. Is he okay?" Oh, how smart. Check on the guy you just asked for a coffee date while he was mugging you in front of a jealous pervert.
"That just sounded painful. I feel empathetic. I'm sorry. This is new. And, weird. Hi, Red Robin. Thank you for saving my ass." Your words stumble out of your mouth in a flurry and you almost shrink on yourself as Tim, in costume, looks at you likeâŚ
There's no way to describe it accurately with that mask on. It's as if your in danger of a scolding, but he's oozing sexual tension at the same time. Something he notices you catching on to.
"It's alright. It's not your fault. Sorry, I'm just⌠wired. Ran into one of Ivy's plants and it has me⌠you know." Oh. my God. This twink was trying to explain away his intense reaction to you in the most bullshit way possible. You were almost certain he saw one of your Instagram photo. Got horny and rushed over to stalk you in person.
BUT. But.
You could work with this.
"Would a lil' kiss help?" Yes, bitch. Yes. At least the Bat women in you life would be proud.
"Yeah, it would. Thanks."
Fuck, what? That was not permission-
You had about a nanosecond to react before you're shoved against the brick again, a much more dangerous weapon is pressed to your skin now. Red Robin's lips. And, it was lethal the way he tilted his head to devour you. His nose brushing yours, the way you're head was moved back so he could take control with absolute ease.
You mange to run your trembling hands up his chest, remembering not to let them hang there like dead fish before he nips your lower lip and delicate moves his tongue with yours. And, faintly you can taste a breath mint. Which means he had been hoping for this. But, it's hard to care about that when his tongue swirls with yours perfectly.
It lasts for maybe a minute. A solid intense minute. And, him pulling away leaves you gasping for air as if you're coming up from a deep ocean dive.
"Get to your car, and get home. Now." He ordered, handing you the keys to your car and everything else he grabbed when knocking the mugger out.
"Yes, sir." God, you sounded pathetic right now. But, clearly that was the right thing to say as you stumbled to your car. Looking back at Red Robin and the mugger starting to groan in pain.
With shaky hands you slide in and start it up. Pulling away with still wide eyes and dead silence in the car.
"I am in way over my head."
Tim waits until your car is out of sight before slamming his foot in the groaning man's ribs. Hard enough to hear that satisfying snap. But, careful enough not to puncture a lung.
"Red Robin, come in. Are they okay?"
"Yeah, they're okay, Oracle."
"Alight. Don't do anything else to him. Not until B gets there. He'll want to interrogate him."
"Got it."
"And, Tim?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't brag too much."
"No promises."
đĽď¸Ko-Fi Link
A/N: Finally some action, I know. Tim moves fast, but if kisses are happening things should start escalating now.
A/N: No body get excited. I don't know if my streak is picking up again. I need to get in Pregnant!Reader mindset. Though I have dabbles for first chapters of more Pregnant!Reader stories. Might share those.
Hiya!!!! I have a question about OMGWWT! In part nine (I think!) Dick says to Damian that the reader will âwant to have a romantic relationship at some pointâ. Does this mean that the reader hasnât been in a relationship in their life yet? Or have they had relationships, but the batfam just donât know about them? OMGWWT is my favourite fic ever!!!!
Reader has not been allowed to be in a romantic relationship, due to the Batfamâs interference.
Before, it was just Bruce being super over protective of his baby.
Later on, itâs just everyone trying to keep reader single so one of the boys can win them over.
Readerâs long accepted that itâs just hard to date in Gotham. Plus, theyâve never come off as the player type like Bruce was. It makes them nervous.
Hii!! Just wanted to ask something real quick lol. Have u written episode 25 of "Oh my God, oh my God. Who wrote this?"
I can't find it anywhere đ It's not showing up for me, and I didn't see it on your Master List either. If it's already up, could u point me in the right direction? Thnks sm!! (ToT) âĄ
Oh my God, Oh my God. Who wrote this? - Twenty Five
Neglected!Reader x Yandere!Batfam
Breaking into the BatCave is surprisingly easier then expected, Barbara makes you mildly regret it though.
Warnings: Yandere themes, GN!Reader, Pesudo-Incest (Reader does NOT see themselves as part of the family), Readerâs age is ambiguous (i.e. They're not a minor, but there's no official number), CRACK, Babs finally makes her appearance.
Platonic Route
Prologue
Master List
Now, getting into the Batcave was going to be a mild challenge. You were almost certain that the security had been up to some puzzle box Sudoku shit that you'd never be able to crack like the rest of the unnatural heathens that wanted to crack you.
Damian, thankfully, not included. No Targaryen shit in this house. Thank you, Jesus.
Sure, you could ask Steph, Cass, or Duke to let you in. But, they might end up planning something and doing things on their terms. Not yours. You did not need any extra surprises after Jason leaving you feeling all different types of raw and venerable without even touching you.
Speaking of Jason though, the Jane Smustine was the biggest big back of the bunch. So with a little help from the Gotham Bird sighting page, Alfred's cleaning schedule, and a quick run to the nearest Gotham Walmart - Oh, fuck was that an experience - you made sure to leave a family sized bag of Doritos on the kitchen island. Opened and with your name on them.
No one in the house could resist such temptation. Especially him. Motherfucker always stole your snacks. And, while he had written poetry about you, that wasnât something you were very inclined to forgive.
Alfred cleaned the library on Thursdayâs, and it was Wednesday. And, everyone that didnât know about your knowledge was out either at work or on a mission, maybe.
Sometimes you gotta risk it.
So, following the trail of Dorito crumbs, you found the dust concentrated around the large grandfather clock in the library. The one that could be the size of a door, now that you think about it.
Shit, this was kinda obvious this entire time. How embarrassing.
Oh, well. Time to break in.
âBarbaraaaaaaaa! I found the cave! Lemme in, I need to talk to you! Pleeeeeease!â
What?
You werenât going to bother with cracking the code when there was a perfectly good Oracle right there to save time and sanity. Plus, you knew youâd fail enough times trying to solve it, end up triggering some sort of alarm, and have this entire experience logged permanently in the BatFlies or whatever it was called down there.
Thirty seconds of waving your hands in front of the clock, enough for you to wonder if this was a bad idea and start to have regrets, the bookshelf next to you pulls back and then slides behind the clock. Revealing a small stone and metal entrance towards an illuminated elevator. One that silently, or ominously, opens.
âHuh, no stripper pole.â Stepping inside and hearing the metal shut behind you, the feeling on descending hits your stomach with the nerves. You were doing this. Years living in the manor above the Batcave and you were finally going inside it. Your fatherâs secret hideout and greatest work, the one he practically abandoned you for.
âShit, thatâs too many emotions to deal with. Nah, fuck that. Weâre gonna suppress that shit." You might be nervously talking to yourself, but it's better than internally monologing angst.
Finally hitting the bottom, you assume, the doors part and before your eyes is a cave filled with a technophile's wet dream with Bat logo's everywhere on every bit of it. And, Barbara. Beaming.
"Why do you look so proud?"
"Because I am. And, there was a bet about you finding this place. Which I obviously just won." She rolls over the specialized cave flooring towards you with a very satisfied tone as she turns her chair and pulls next to you.
"Alright, first, before I help, how did you figure it out? Did you know the whole time, were you waiting? Everyone's going to want details when they find out." That makes you wince.
"Yeah, I don't want them knowing yet. It's part of the reason I'm seeking out your assistance." You say in a mock-Damian manner, because why the fuck not. You're in the Batcave. You could have some decorum for five minutes. Maybe.
"You have to tell me if you want me to help you." Barbara imminently says, raising a brow as she guides you towards the ramp leading to the large computer at the center of the room. Interestingly enough, this place looked extremely handicap friendly. And, not just like it was for Barbara. The tables looked like they had easy to work buttons to adjust height. Easy gripping tools were in easy easy reach. Everything was open and had ease of access which distracted you for a full minute.
Until it clicked that Bruce probably designed it that way for both an aging Alfred and in case someone needed to do something when they were injured. Huh.
"Damn, Bruce really did put a lot of thought in to this place. Explains the lack of birthday cards I got as a kid..."
"Yikes." Whoops, you said that shit out loud, moving on.
"So, I used a bag of Doritos to find the cave. And, Jason." You quickly explain, watching Barbara pause for a second. Roll to a halt, look at the trash can, look back at you, think somethings over with that elegantly raised brow of hers, and give you that weirdly pleased smile again.
"Bruce would be proud."
"Not why I'm here." Quickly putting that to bed with a furious shake of your head. And, a dramatic wave of your hands.
"I'm here because... I know." Little more cryptic. Fuck, that is like Bruce. Which is what you had been trying to carefully avoid.
"Obviously you know- Oh, my God, you know about the writing." It clicked pretty fast for her when you spoke like that. Secret identities were one thing. Fanfiction was another. "And, you want me to... help?"
"Yeah. I want you to help." You might as well have asked her to sing and she looked like she was going to. With absolute fucking joy.
"What's the end goal here?" And, she was way too excited. why do you get a sense of foreboding as you both walk towards the massive computer.
"Fuck with 'em." Or, maybe, get fucked by them. You're still deciding. But, first things first, pettiness.
"This isn't going to end well. I've know that since the beginning of this entire mess. You're just going to be fanning the flames, you know that right?" Barbara, for all she was involved and giddy, was still cautious. Even if it was entertaining, there was no possible way this was sustainable. There would be a huge shift in family and team dynamic. Even you could tell that.
"The ending isn't changing just because I'm playing now. The twist is just going to be more interesting. Are you in?" There's a touch of seriousness in your voice. For all the meltdowns and freakouts there was an acceptance to this situation.
You were stuck with this perverted traumatized bunch. And, you didn't really have much of a choice.
What were you going to do? Leave? In this economy? And, did you really expect them to not drag you back or follow your ass? You were ride or die up in this bitch now.
"I'm not going into hero work though."
"Of course you not. One, it's dangerous and, two, you'd be getting bent over every surface in Gotham. Not just the rooftops. Though, I call dips on dressing you up one night for a patrol once everyone figures out you know our identities. Just the drama from Bruce alone would be amazing and the sexual tension between you and the boys would make all my soap operas pale in comparison. Now, as for ways to help, let me schedule you a boudoir photo shoot. With the excuse that you're back on trying one of your weird ideas at getting attention again."
She was already typing into the computer as she vomited up those words. Typing in some obscure BatBrowser, and at an impressive speed. Her hands also moving at such a rapid pace that a whole ass document filled with ideas pops up and takes you by surprise. You can only scan over with horror.
"None of my previous ideas were like this though!" Oh, shit. She was crazy as everyone else and, worse, already had her own plans. FUCK. You recruited a handler, not a helper.
"It's fine. Where do you think Bruce's playboy image came from?"
"As the product of that curated image, I'd say fuck me. But, you probably already bet on who's going to do that, didn't you?"
"I'll hold off. For now."
đĽď¸Ko-Fi Link
A/N: Man am I rusty or what? Don't worry, Barbara's plans bare fruit. With a certain bird. Eh, there's three to pick from. One to enjoy and two to make jealous.
A/N: Meds have been adjusted, kids are starting school soon. Could I finally be back? I don't know, let me work on Pregnant!Reader first and see what I manage to do.
