Summary: The reader is the biological daughter of Bruce Wayne and gets neglected by the family, then she gets replaced and imitated. She has superpowers and goes by the superhero name Atomic. This is a series and still a WIP.
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: Obscene Language, Mentions of Arson, Canon Typical Violence, Neglect, Bruce being a shitty dad, Evelyn, identity theft, crime, reader jumps off building.
Author's note: Ahem this is shorter than I'd like but I will be updating again soon, so don't worry. Please send feedback. My comments, asks, and DMs are open. Ask questions, send criticism. Do not be afraid. Divider's from @bronzewasp beautiful stuff and the header is from @aracnista
You were beginning to realize why your presence was wanted in this wretched home.
Dear Evelyn over here appears to have trouble keeping up her ruse. It didn’t necessarily take a mind reader to take notice of her more jittery and nervous nature. It did, however, take a mind reader to determine that she was behaving like this due to the fact that she realised that in your absence, it became increasingly difficult to mimic you. You had made it quite hard for her by taking everything of yours along with you to Newton. See, this is why you didn’t take much action against her. How can one be a “trained” spy but need to steal someone else’s charisma? She’s obviously not a serious threat; the family can deal with her when the truth is revealed.
Speaking of the family, they were currently eating dinner at the dinner table. You were going to be included; an occurrence as rare as seeing snow in the Sahara Desert. You didn’t want to come in early and possibly sit in anyone’s seat or create awkwardness. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t even be there. You never are, you either eat in the library while drawing/reading or out in the garden if the sun is out. Never in your room, you hate the smell of food in your room. It was Alfred who made you come down for the family dinner.
“Master Y/N, the family has not seen or heard from you in a year. I haven’t seen you in a year. I beseech you, dear. Be present just this one instance.”
You folded. He was hopeful and a bit sad; he had missed you tremendously, and seeing the way that the family treated you made his heart ache. Which has led you to this predicament; you wondering why the hell you decided to come back to the manor at all and not make up some bogus excuse about doing some work for the theatre club, while walking down the stairs with one of Reed’s science journals as the faint yet vibrant sound of clatter, laughter, and chatter becomes clearer and louder. You entered the grand Elizabethan-like great hall before making a turn to the lit dining room.
The silence enveloped the room like thick smoke. Everyone turned to you, and you’ve never felt the urge to teleport to the Arctic consume you so swiftly as it did right then. It must’ve felt like hours before Evelyn broke the silence, and you could feel the smugness coming off in waves; yet you could also sense relief. She wanted you here, what a wretch.
“Oh my god! You’re here! Come sit with me, " you winced at the harpy suggestion. You really didn’t want to do that.
“Nah, it’s fine. I’d rather sit here, I tend to-” You tried to reject, but the broad stood up and grabbed you. Well, she tried. You moved away quite fast. She stopped and stared at you with widened eyes. Wow, she’s really attempting to antagonise you here, and you haven’t even been in the manor for twenty-four hours.
“Y/N, go sit down,” the authoritative voice made you turn your head.
Bruce stared at you with his lips in a thin line and an indifferent gaze.
“He actually comes out of the cave??”
You eye the room, realising that everyone is here. Their feelings a mix of awkwardness, annoyance, and disappointment. Ouch, they really don’t want you here. Why do they dislike you so much? What could you have possibly done to warrant this treatment?
Evelyn grabs your arm again and makes you sit with her. Dick is on your right, while she is on your left. You plop the book on the table and stare at it, mentally keeping note of what page you were on. You can’t help but miss Franklin and Val as you look at the journal. Dining with them always felt natural, like you were truly a family, even in the beginning when you were just getting to know them. The contrast between that warmth and this cold family is biting.
Alfred comes in with the food; he’s made pasta. Your favourite and the knowing look he throws your way prove that this was intentional.
“Thank you, Alfred.” You smile gratefully.
It doesn’t take long for chatter to return, and you decide to dive into the journal. You remember Reed gifting this to you before leaving the last day; he thought it would be like having a lecture with him; it doesn’t, but it’s the closest you have to him. Maybe you’ll do a text-to-speech before bed and sleep to it? That doesn’t sound awful. Reed does have a calming voice; you’ve fallen asleep to more aberrant things before.
You feel a vibration in your pocket. You fish out your phone and see that it’s Xander calling. You’re eating with the family, you can’t answer this call now. Something tells you that it's actually quite serious, you swipe on your phone and put it back in your pocket. You’ll get back to him after this shitfest is over, and you also don’t want extra ears listening in on your conversation.
“Who is calling you?” Dick inquired; you could sense that he really didn’t care, he just asked for the sake of it.
“Nobody to worry about, " you muttered.
You catch Damian glaring at you. He still hasn’t told the others what happened between you two; you’re not sure if he’s doing that out of embarrassment or because he wants revenge.
“You’re not supposed to have devices at the dinner table, and why are you reading that mess instead of talking to us?”Damian’s eyes narrowed at you as he spoke. What the hell is this kid’s problem? What would you even talk about with them? Your time at school? Would they even care? You suddenly remember something and straightened.
“Oh, okay. Uhm, Bruce, our school is trying to get us to do internships with certain companies, and I was wondering if I could maybe do that with Wayne Enterprise? I know there’s a talent network or something similar I can apply to. Or if I could shadow one of the engineers and just observe and learn, that would be great.” You went on, fidgeting with one of your rings and staring at your so-called father, who gazed at you like you were some inconvenience.
“Interesting. I’ll look into that for you.” Yeah, you’re never getting it.
“Master Y/N has quite the resume and has won more science competitions than one can count. She would be an excellent candidate.” Alfred tried to defend your case; he was the one who asked you to try inquiring about the internship, but Bruce seemed to have already checked out mentally.
“I’ll see, Alfred.”
You weren’t really bummed out about that. You already had internships lined up, one of them being at Lex Corp, the other being at Stark Industries, and of course, your late stepfather’s company.
“Nepo baby,” You heard Jason cough out. You rolled your eyes and went back to reading your journal before you said something that completely crossed the line. They all started talking again. Talking about events and outings that happened while you were away. There’s a new restaurant called Batburger now, and they seem to frequent there a lot. When was Atomic getting a burger place? You were forced to look up when you heard Stephanie addressing you.
“Oh, right, I forgot you weren’t really here for most of this. I’d hate to go to a boarding school and miss out on stuff all the time.” She twirls a strand of her hair while staring at you with a shit eating grin.
“Stephanie, with your attendance, I think you’re worried about missing the wrong things.” You take a forkful of your pasta while staring at the despicable girl with a raised eyebrow.
Stephanie stares at you with concealed anger in her eyes. Was that too far? It was the truth. These guys don’t know that you know they’re vigilantes.
Jason mutters something about not everyone being a nerd.
“Yeah, you’re a great spokesperson for that. Remind me what university you went to? Oh, right, my bad, pretty sure you need a high school diploma to get into one of those-”
“Y/N,” Bruce stated sternly. “If you can’t eat with us peacefully, then you could leave.” He continued.
“You’re right.” You stood up calmly, took your plate and journal, and left for the library.
The family stared at you in bewilderment. You’d rather not eat with them? What the hell. Evelyn, in particular, looked panicked.
“Wait, Y/N, sit down. Don’t be so histrionic.” Bruce said with a confused tone. He didn't think you'd actually leave.
“No, I’m fine, I don’t like eating in big groups anyway. Too much noise. I’ll collect dessert later. ” You pushed your chair in, gave Alfred a sorry smile, and went on your way. You wanted to talk to Alexander; you miss him.
You walked across the hall, through the ballroom, and went by the conservatory. It felt like hours before you reached the library. You sensed cameras in here, and that told you to be mindful of what you say.
You stared at the phone as you sat down at the table and picked at your food. It rang again.
You answered, and Xander’s enthusiastic voice greeted you immediately.
“Hey, how’s spooky, scary Gotham and the fam?” He asked, and you could tell he was watching something. The news. You weren’t surprised. He loves keeping up to date on current world affairs.
“Yeah, no, take me back to Newton, please. I can’t stand it here. The only person I missed was Alfred.”
“I still can’t get over the fact that you have a British Butler in your manor. That basically acts like your grandfather.”
“Says the one with staff in his townhouse.”
“Whatever.” You could hear the playfulness in his voice, and it made you chuckle. Being friends with Xander meant laughing a bunch. No escaping it. You took a forkful of pasta while you focused your hearing on what he was watching.
“This leaves the whole world to wonder, where is Atomic?”
You exhaled as you remembered the Central Park fires, the destroyed city, the kids on the bridge. The public thinks Atomic is dead. They saw her limp body being carried by the Fantastic Four and believe that she’s dead.
Xander took notice of your silence and spoke, “You know, Jameson wants a death certificate and a photo of you unmasked.”
You mentally facepalmed. “You’re joking. I-” You remembered that there were cameras around the library and thought of your next selection of words carefully. “Atomic is dead, Central Park is burnt to a crisp, Multiple homeless children have been displaced, and Midtown is practically rubble. His worry is getting Atomic’s identity?”
“You know it. He hates the whole masked vigilante thing; it doesn’t help that your lady’s a teenager. He’s jealous; he still sends me emails about our interview. Asks if she ‘slipped’.” You couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of exasperation take over you.
“He acts like she’s the only masked hero operating in New York! There’s Daredevil, the Punisher, The other Batman, and..Moon Knight.” You stated the last hero’s name with subtle disdain.
“Still bitter that Atomic sometimes gets called his sidekick? It’s a preventable problem-” You cut him off, irritated that he seems to find this amusing.
“You mention changing the suit, I will-” Teleport to you and dropkick you. You finish your threat telepathically.
“It wouldn’t make me less correct.” He drawled smugly.
“It’s not the suit…well, it’s not the suit anymore. Moon Knight is literally going around calling Atomic his sidekick and his kid!! She’s a teenage superhero, that isn’t a sidekick and has never been one! The foul jackass.” You tap the table repeatedly out of annoyance.
“The reason why Jameson never picks on them is because... well..they aren’t afraid of tracking him down and giving him a bedtime beating or eternal sleep. In his eyes, you’re tolerant.” He explains thoughtfully.
“You’re right.” You glanced at your watch. It was eight. You were nearly finished with your pasta.
“So, is Atomic making an appearance tonight?” He asked seriously. The news played on.
You stopped eating. You remembered Camila’s heartbroken expression at the thought of Atomic being dead. You remembered your tear-stricken housemates.
“She’s a beacon of hope! She’s a symbol of heroism and vigilantism for me.”
How many Camilas are there? How many people, young people especially, need that? Need hope. Central Park, a quintessential landmark, is practically gone. Midtown, one of the beating hearts of the city, was brutalised. Your city is weeping; she’s hurt. She needs you. She needs hope.
“Yes, Atomic will be making an appearance tonight.”
It was currently ten pm. You knew your “family” thought you were asleep, while they were out doing you know what. You were at Central Park, investigating and healing. The accelerant used was different; it also seemed to make the fire resistant to more conventional means of extinguishing. You remembered the one who did this, the mask he wore, his build, the aura of malevolence he wore like a badge of honour, how he seemed resistant to your telepathy, and even knew you tried. It was scary. This must have been who Verone was petrified of. You stare at the sky, so beautiful at night.
You create a blast, one that restores the park, manipulating time and energy, sure has its perks. You do the same to the city. You examine the vial you brought with you, in it contains the accelerant. You pocket it and decide that you will examine it with Reed later on. You stop and eye your handiwork. You lift your hands and start creating light energy constructs. Atomic structures for Hydrogen, Oxygen, Phosphorus, and Einsteinium. Ahem, you cheated with the last one, but they’ll understand. That should last for a day or two.
You can’t let what happened previously happen again. You would never forgive yourself.
You teleport to a skyscraper and look at the city. Should you pay Verone a visit? He thinks you know he’s dead. You know he isn’t. Does he even want to see you? You remember the last time you clashed with him; he threw a grenade at you, you absorbed the blast, but he didn’t know you could do that. The man hates your guts and isn’t afraid to display it. If you visit him, you could probably ask him about who the arsonist is. You’re not like Jason; you can’t act like a criminal to get to a criminal. You know he hates, or more like fears, this freak. It’s a drug war, but there are obviously layers to this. Verone supposedly had two months. Two months for what?
You sigh as you step away from the ledge of the skyscraper. You walk away, then sprint and flip forward off the building. As you free-fall, you teleport to a harbour, Point Marina. The Bronx. Where your stepfather was from. Where Verone is hiding.
The warehouse, though rough-looking, stands proudly. Kind of reminds you of someone. You walk in, subconsciously creating a barrier around you. The gunfire is fast and lasts for minutes until you make all the guns disintegrate..There are three of them; you wonder who else knows he’s alive. How many people does Verone trust?
“You know, for someone in hiding, you’re not really good at being quiet, Verone.”
“How the hell did you know I was alive and here?! Guards get he-” You flick your wrist and the guards are gone. At their homes.
“Save the dramatics. We need to talk.” You force Verone down telekinetically.
“The fires, who was that? You know him. I know you do. It’s why you’re doing-” You gesture around the warehouse and stare at him “This.”
“Speak to me, Verone; I can help. Who is that, and what do you have two months for?” You urge trying to keep your voice down. Verone’s eyes flash with surprise, and his mouth opens slightly.
“You’ve been digging through my head.”
“You’ve been digging through trouble.”
Verone glares at you but doesn’t fight you. Smart
“Fine. What d’ya want to hear?” He grumbles out, but you sense fear and relief. He’s been wanting to get this out for a while.
“Everything.” You state as you levitate and fold your legs.
As Verone explains. Your face pales and your eyes widen. You exhale and hold the bridge of your nose.
“What the hell have you got yourself into, Verone?”
dabi with hero!reader who he just can't take his hands off
every time you fight him, he finds a way to sneak up on you and immobilise you, pinning you to the ground with your wrists on the ground next to your head. you've learned to take these moments as a break, knowing he won't hurt you.
"hey gorgeous, you look pretty worked up, yeah?" he teases, his voice deep and raspy. the smell of smoke practically radiates from him and his coat, his coat that almost covers both of your bodies.
"c-come on, let me up. i have stuff to do."
"oh? you don't like it down here with me? i'm so hurt." he chuckles. his hands rub your wrists slightly, as if familiar with the compromising position you're in. "y'know, i heard you're being put onto us. is that true doll?"
"i'm just doing my job."
"does your job make you wanna kill me?"
"i-i mean, i should."
"hah! you wouldn't, you like me too much."
a voice calls out from far away, one of your co-heroes, yelling at dabi to get off of you. dabi sneers slightly before leaning in to whisper something.
"until next time beautiful."
with that, he runs and disappears.
whenever people ask you what he says to you, you always put on a tense face and look away. not to hide your fear, but instead to pretend like you don't get excited just thinking about him.
here's a thought i've been having: an exes-to-lovers trope with robert.
imagine being one of california's top heroes, child of deceased brave brigade member, who grew up with chase also as your babysitter and robert as your childhood friend.
imagine starting to date in your late teens to early twenties and growing into adulthood with each other, getting an apartment together, a dog - building a life together.
but then robert's efforts to find shroud become more and more desperate. he spends more nights coming home at the brink of dawn, if he comes home at all. his injuries start getting worse and worse, he grows more exhausted each day and you know he's losing himself. so you do as any good partner would, you bring it up. and you keep bringing it up. but it's to no use. robert's in far deeper than you were aware of, your task mission taking up so much of your time that it took you far too long to notice just how hard he was pushing himself. and now, he won't hear you.
it takes a toll on your relationship, a heavy one. but you had thought it was just a rough patch - a really, really rough patch. but robert didn't think the same way. so you break up.
but it's hard to sever those ties. eight years together and a life spent side by side for double the time. that's not something you can quit cold turkey.
he sends you sorry excuses for texts, you send him drunken voicemails. he reaches out to you after you announce your hiatus from hero work and you take care of his apartment and your Beefy boy while he's in a coma.
but at the end of the day the two of you are still exes. all those years spent by each other's side diminished to that one word.
in your boredom you take up a job with the SDN. a mentorship role for the phoenix program. which also means taking up the very regular dispatcher position when the z-team throws another dispatcher.
then one day you come to work to find your cubicle filled by none other robert robertson the third. and all those feelings come rushing back much to your displeasure.
and it's not like robert makes it any easier for you.
he flashes those stupid pretty brown eyes at you, broods in the corner when you get flirted with before pushing his way into the conversation. he stops by your office and leans in the doorway, makes sure you're staying hydrated and gives you those dumb motivating speeches when he can tell you're being too hard on yourself. he makes you laugh and he makes your heart squeeze. he makes an effort to talk to you, to be around you and always looks like at you like he has more to say but he doesn’t know how to say them.
but then he's also seemingly flirting with invisigal, matching her energy when she makes her jokes that are absolutely not suitable for work - especially on a recorded line - vouching for her when she acts out of term.
so you're forced to not only reckon with your own trauma in regards to leaving hero work and the events that caused it, but also reckon with the fact that you are still very much in love with robert but is navigating what that means and figuring out robert’s feelings worth risking opening up to the man who broke your heart again.
Lowkey cuz @uziasiwa wanted it and it sounded fun to write
Tags: gn!reader, brief talk of SA, reader wants him so fucking bad trust me, no smut, just reeeeeally suggestive
—
You come to in an unfamiliar bed, sore as hell and more dehydrated than the desert. Upon opening your eyes, you’re immediately met with the sight of a dark, messy bedroom. The only light comes from a computer monitor, although it’s being blocked by a head of messy hair. Through blurry vision, you can faintly make out the shape of his face.
Shit…what even happened?
You were fighting Shigaraki…he caught you…then…oh, fuck-
The memories hit you like a truck, and you immediately jolt up, ignoring the ache in your muscles and joints. Eyes wide now, you whip your head over in his direction, frightened but trying to muster the strength to fight as he pauses his game to look at you.
Shigaraki looks eerily casual, looking you up and down leisurely as he scratches idly at his neck. “…You’re awake.”
The blunt observation, along with his demeanor, throws you for a loop. Shouldn’t he be like…torturing you or something? You’re not even tied up or anything…does he expect you to be okay with this?
Slowly, you scoot back a bit further, patting the pocket where your communicator usually sits…empty, of course. When your back hits the wall, you swallow lightly, your eyes not leaving him for a second. You know you’re trapped. If this is his bedroom, then you must be in the League’s hideout. And if that’s true, then there’s a good chance that some or all of the other members are home too. Meaning…the chances of you running or fighting your way out of here are very slim…if he intends on keeping you here, anyways.
“Calm down.” He grumbles lowly, rising from his chair and rolling his eyes. His mask is still off, his expression flat and his eyes boring into you. “I’m not gonna kill you right now.”
Yeah, right. You press back further against the wall as he stands, your heart racing with fear…and maybe just a dash of something else. Swallowing thickly to try and moisten up your dry throat, you finally speak, glaring at him with the best of your ability. “…W-Why did you bring me here?”
Shigaraki stays in his place, but the corner of his lips quirks up just a little bit at how weak you still sound. He scoffs quietly, drawling derisively in response. “Would you rather I just left you in that alleyway for someone worse than me to find? You should be thanking me.”
Now it’s your turn to scoff, no matter how weak it may be…or how right he is. Not that you can fully trust that he’s not that disgusting. You glance down at yourself, trying to see if there’s any signs of…activity…that took place while you were unconscious. Shigaraki notices the direction of your eyes and the look on your face, and he frowns as if offended.
“Fuck, I’m not completely heartless.” He grits, looking at you like you’re the bad guy. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t touch you.”
Looking back up at him, you glare a bit harder now, not sure if you can believe him or not. “Oh, so you’re not a rapist, just a mass murderer and terrorist? That’s so much better.”
Scowling a bit now, Shigaraki’s hand twitches a little at his side. But instead of lashing out, he just huffs and takes a step closer, glaring down at you. “What, did you want me to do something? Are you into that too, freak?”
Despite your best efforts, you flinch a little when he comes closer…and yet a small flame lights between your hips. Scowling back at him, you tuck your legs in closer and growl back at him. “No. I just don’t know why someone like you would bring me here unless it was for-.”
“Someone like me?” He interjects, glowering down at you now as he steps closer to the edge of his bed. “You think you have me figured out, hero? You think I’m just like every other lowlife piece of shit on the street?”
“Well why wouldn’t you be?” You shoot back, getting increasingly afraid and angry and turned on as he gets closer. “Why the hell would you bring me here if it wasn’t to hold me hostage, or bargain me off, or be some sex slave, or something-!”
“I already told you, I didn’t want someone else finding you like that.” Shigaraki growls, standing right at the edge of his bed now and he fists his hands. “You think I want to keep you here? I have no interest in chaining you up and using you like some fleshlight, or whatever you’re imagining right now. I don’t have the time to waste on you, and you don’t have any information I can’t get myself.”
His words shock you, really. It’s incomprehensible, that a guy this evil can genuinely have the slightest moral compass and not fall completely into the heinous nature of most other men in this situation. What shocks you even more are the words he grits out after another second of charged silence.
“And I won’t fuck you again unless you beg for it.”
This time, your eyes widen in surprise and your thighs press together on their own. It’s so odd, the feelings he inspires in you. Before tonight, you never would’ve known that you’re into what happened in the alleyway, or that you’re into guys like him. You just stare for a second, unable to think of anything to say and unable to do much else than sit there. The scariest part of all this now is that you believe him.
After a moment, Shigaraki rolls his eyes with a harsh sigh. You’re…infuriating. Stupid. Useless. And too fucking cute.
“Stop that.” He commands roughly, still scowling at you.
Furrowing your brows a little in confusion, you tense even more because you’re not even doing anything…Not that you know of, anyways. But if you could see yourself from Shigaraki’s point of view, you’d know what he’s talking about. You’re staring up at him with that delicious mix of fear and desire again, your body all weak and covered in bruises from his earlier roughness, cowering on his bed, in his room…God, if you asked just once, he’d fuck you again in an instant.
“I’m not-…I’m not doing anything.” You argue, pressing back further and only serving to entice him more.
Shigaraki grits his teeth, his hands clenching at his side. Seriously, fuck you. Goddamn hero, always messing with his head. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and grabs your ankle, a little shriek leaving your lips as he drags you down the bed towards him. God, if you weren’t all weak and tired, you’d beat the shit out of him for that…if only you could.
Now looming over you, Shigaraki glowers down at your vulnerable form, standing between your legs but not pushing further. “I can literally see you getting turned on, idiot.”
Eyes wide, you glance down, your face heating up as you see the way your thighs twitch a little. Looking back up at him, you shake your head quickly, squirming and trying to scoot back up the bed away from him. “I’m- I’m not-!”
Shigaraki holds fast, his grip tightening painfully on your wrist as he tugs you back down towards him. Your stomach drops as you realize you’re really trapped, a chill running down your spine even as the heat intensifies between your hips.
Stubbornly, or maybe instinctively, your free leg kicks out and lands solidly on his stomach. With a rough ‘oof!’, Shigaraki finally lets go, and you scramble backwards up his bed. His eyes are wide as he rubs his stomach, obviously not expecting you to actually fight…not that he has a problem with getting a little rough with you.
Narrowing his eyes threateningly, he pins you with a hard look. You swallow thickly, your breath stuttering as he finally puts a knee on the mattress and reaches for you again. His hand wraps around your ankle again and tugs you down harshly, knocking you onto your back. This time, he doesn’t waste time getting between your thighs and pinning your wrists down.
You squirm, of course, still stubbornly acting like every part of you isn’t screaming for him. But when you look up, you freeze…because Shigaraki is grinning now- cold and amused and damn near crazed.
“On second thought…” He growls lowly, holding your wrists bruisingly tight as he pins your hips down with his own. “Maybe I should keep you here for a few days…See how much I can make you beg for me.”
Eyes wide as saucers, you stare up at him, lips patting like you’re about to spit out some stubborn denial or insult. But instead…nothing comes out. And you surrender. There’s no denying it anymore, and you doubt you’d be able to fight convincingly even if you tried. All you can do is hope and pray you survive this.
Satisfied with your eventual submission, Shigaraki grins sharper, leaning down further to drawl low in your ear, relishing in the way you shiver under him.
“That’s a good hero…”
—
And then y’all fuck again and lowkey fall in love 😼
I just watch the scene in teen titans: the judas contract where Dick and Kory are fighting side by side with the team, the scene "how we do that move you taught me last weekend?" and "could you not leave yourself open like that? I worry", and they talk about plans outside the hero life. They are very power couple and the mom and dad of the group.
And I NEED a fic like that with Dick, or Jason, or Bruce, or any of them really. I need the hero!reader, I need them being a domestic couple while kicking ass, planning dinner, talking about weekends plans over coms while fighting on different sides of the city.
So if anyone knows a fic like that, please recommend it, or if someone wants to write it, go ahead and please tag me so I can satisfied my fixation.
Synopsis: You were saved by your ex-mentor, then Batman saved you from him. Even with your habilities It seems like you will never stop being a damsel in distress. Don't worry though, you are just a puppy who just got adopted by the best caretaker ever. And he knows what you need even better than yourself.
Pairing: Yandere!Batman X Villain turned hero!Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam
Tw: 18+; Dubcon between Yan!Bruce X Gn!Reader; Reader has a pussy and an uterus; Grooming?!; Reader is inexperienced and a virgin; Reader is a people pleaser; age gap (Reader is 21 and Bruce is on his 40’s); fingering!reader receiving; mentions of sexu4l harr4sment, s3xual 4ssault and pedoph1lia (nothing happens, reader was just afraid of being a victim growing up); Bruce is very touchy and Reader doesn't know how to feel about that; power imbalance; Reader has intense daddy and trust issues, intrusive thoughts and a rough background; mentions of family loss; fluff, suggestive and angst; manipulation and guilt tripping; platonic!batfamily are happy, Damian loves you and no one knows Bruce is a yandere for you, but they are kinda weirded out by the age gap; English is not my first language.
Word count: 8,5k
Requested? Yes.
Extra notes: that's how I’m picturing villain!reader suit and that's the vigilant suit. Also It was really hard to find cool names for reader’s villain ex-mentor and reader’s villain and hero persona, but you can imagine whatever suit and name you want
General masterlist | He's My Collar - Series masterlist
You were 11 when your deadbeat father handed you over to Overkill to appease the criminal’s anger. That day, you lost your birth name and became Onslaught.
When you joined him you were afraid your fate would be to become his sex slave, it wouldn't be absurd to think he wanted to use you like that since the last time you saw your father, when he was on his knees, crying for his life to be spared, he cried an offer that your mentor accepted: my kid! Take my kid! They already bleed! Check their underwear! They're already grown, take them and do whatever you want to them! Don't even have to bring them back, take them with you if you want! They can clean and cook and will do whatever you want, I swear! they will keep quiet! I won't tell anyone!
Tsk. Pathetic old man.
Later he told you he only took you in because cruelty against kids was the only line he refused to cross and hated who committed It. He said you were better off with him If your own father made a strange and violent man an offer of such disgusting nature.
Overkill never touched you the way your father expected. If 99% of the time he didn't treat you like a minion, and 1% as his ward, you could even love him. He definitely was your second (shitty) father figure.
Instead, he did make you cook and clean, but only when you weren't training and studying to be his sidekick. He was a villain-for-hire. Sketchy civilians, crime bosses, supervillains and corrupt politicians would hire you both to do the stealing, killing and terrorizing. When you became his, it meant he could get more jobs while working less and earning more. He got 99% of the money and you would get 1%. Literally. If he was in a good mood, felt you deserved a treat or one of the clients showed a liking to you, he gave you more, never more than his own part though.
It was just one more way to keep the leash of the puppy attached to him. Keep you dependent. He also used psychological methods for that, you knew that now.
When you were a kid, before he became your mentor, like every normal child, you developed an obsession. Some liked dinosaurs. Some liked princesses. Some liked insects. You liked wolves. You used to spend hours imagining yourself being one of them. Running through the woods with a pack that would accept, love and protect you. Your cries for help, the night that your father beat your mom to her grave and was close to doing the same to you, were howls to the moon. Calling for help. Calling for someone. But the only one who could hear your frequency was him.
Your savior. Your keeper. The alpha of your little two member pack.
When you were 21 your whole life changed for the second time. Batman caught Overkill, cut off his claws, put a muzzle on him and left him in Belle Reve.
He was merciful to you though, he was a hero after all, and he investigated your history. He gave you options: 1-Live a civilian and lawful life. 2-Learn his ways and become a vigilant by his side, saving lives and all that shit that made heros panties wet. 3-Keep the lifestyle of a criminal and next time he saw Onslaught in action he would break your legs and put you in a cage right next to your packleader's.
You chose the second option.
And that was how Onslaught was dead and Silverclaw was born.
Batman set you up in one of his safehouses, helped get a new identity and you were to patrol the city with him every night. You thought because you were an adult he would leave you on your own when It came to education and a job, he didn't. He insisted on giving you money until you found a common daytime job.
— Are you doing that to make sure I’m not gonna try to monetize from saving people? — You looked at him suspiciously, searching for a facial reaction that could give him away. None came. Dude was really stoic.
— No.
— You are trying to control me then. — You crossed your arms, being mindful of your new claws.
— I’m trying to help you. — Batman stared at you a lot. If you didn't know better you would think he was a statue in the middle of your new living room from how still he was. You huffed. — You can trust me…
— Can I, really? Can you trust me? — You challenged him, half stepping forward and learning slightly in his direction while touching the bat in his chest with the tip of your claw. He didn't react.
— You will show me.
You chose not to respond and resumed your previous actions of looking around your new home. You pretended to just be touring curiously but the man knew you were searching for cameras or bugs he could use to secretly monitor you. Or just have a peepshow.
— You always do this to the rest of your bats? — He didn't answer. — Maybe not all, I imagine Red Hood wouldn't like it. You don't mind that he is a crime lord right? Or is that the reason you are always fighting?! — He still didn't answer. — Wow, Geez, you never shut up, you know?! Let other people talk. Uh, sorry, I shouldn't be talking like that with my new boss, right?
— I'm not your boss.
— Babysitter then?
— Mentor… Until you can work on your own… — You roll your eyes. So much for admitting he didn't trust you yet. Well, you didn't either.
After three months he changed your suit to have a bat brand on your left shoulder, you were an official member of his team, and gave you access to the batcave. You always saw him, some of the others and his butler coming and going from the elevator, but never tried It, even If he never out loud forbade you from doing it. You noticed they were all very close and didn't feel like you belonged among them, so you didn't need to know where that elevator took you, even If you were often in the cave.
On the 5th month you passed out from an injury after saving Robin. Two-face flipped the coin and his bullet was aiming straight to Robin’s head but he was so small that when you ran in front of him it hit your abdomen. You woke up four hours later in the cave and Batman took his mask off and thanked you for saving his son. That night you found out all of their identities and that the elevator took you to Wayne Manor. Damian, Alfred, Bruce, Tim and Dick (who showed up to thank you as soon as he heard what you prevented from happening with his baby brother) all insisted that you spent the night in one of the guest rooms due to your recent injury.
It took a week of you trying to leave until you managed to. Everyone always found a way to convince you to stay. They were nice and It felt like a warm welcome into their group.
— Damian looks up to you. — Bruce calmly stated after stopping in front of you one day, a month after your recovery was complete and you were out and about at night again. After watching you sparing with Robin for an hour and a half, the opened case was officially forgotten on his ‘batcomputer’ behind him.
— Yeah, I can really feel him putting all his love on his tiny fists when he hits me and leave me bruised and sore for days. — You comment nonchalantly while taking a sip of water and glancing at the kid running towards the elevator. Your mentor snorted.
— He wants you to see him as someone on your level or above. To know that he is reliable and you can call for him when you need help. He did the same with everyone here. Chalenged them, I mean. — You open your mouth to respond but freeze and your arm instintively moves on its own to grip his wrist when he tries to touch your shoulder.
You both stare a each other frozen and in silence for a few seconds before you snap out of it and let go of his wrist.
— My bad.
His hand is still in the air and he slowly retreats It to his side while still analizing you.
— Are you scared of me? — You shake your head hurriedly.
— It was instinct. — You leave It at that.
You both spend a few moments just staring the other down until he clears his throat and step back.
— I’m on a case. You need to work on your detective skills more. Are you free now or are you going to your nest? — You felt deeply grateful for his change of subject and agreed.
You went to grab another seat but his long legs beat you to It, rolled the chair in the direction of the computer and gentlemanly gestured for you to seat down, pushing the chair forward to accommodate you when your tights touched the padding. You raised your eyebrows wearily after the whole interaction but didn't react more than that while he situated himself on his ‘batseat’ beside you.
After a few minutes you unconsciously relaxed your muscles and your conversation went on for hours. You were delightened by how easy It was to talk to him, the first time It didn't feel like an interaction between you that wasn't strictly mentor and apprentice, instead, It felt more like a friend giving you tips and you sucked up on all the knowledge and attention he provided you. He seemed in a good mood and even gave you his signature small smile and praised you a few times when you got something right.
At some point Alfred came down to provide you both with tea and snacks, he seemed to pause for a second while his eyes flew from you to Bruce, who was behind you since you turned around to acknouledge his entrance, covering most of his emotions towards the sight. He semeed kinda… Intrigued. Maybe surprised or awkward. You hacked your brain trying to understand but he turned around and left, Bruce was pushing your cup into your hands before you came to any conclusion.
— You like tea? — He questioned and the contrast between this question and the gory case you were discussing seconds before amused you.
— Uhh, I guess? — You brought the cup closer to your lips, copying his actions as he did the same while looking at you casually. — I like more coffee though, and Overkill was a coffee enthusiast so we drank a lot.— You scrunched your nose at the fleeting memory of your old mentor and the weird reminder that he had a human personality behind his usual strict behavior.
Bruce's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly for a second before the expression vanished. He never held back when it came to showing contempt towards anyone from his team’s past who was associated with crime.
— Were you close to him? — Suddenly he seemed more serious. You wondered if you were misreading the mood this whole time or were just doing it right now.
— Hmm… Not really… It's complicated… - You took another sip.
— I’m listening. — He seemed sincere. Apparently you were having a break from work.
— He wasn't all bad, I mean, he saved me, but… He still kept me around for all business… — Part of you felt like grieving for some reason. — I guess I ended up seeing him as as father figure, or I wanted to, but… — Bruce held himself not to tense. For the first time since the work talk stopped he took his eyes off of your face and looked at his cup. — He just… He knew how to keep his distance while still keeping me by his side 24/7. — He looked at you again, with a more neutral semblance than before. — At leash until I turned 18. He changed when I turned 18. — Bruce furrowed his eyebrows with concern. It was still odd to know someone cared about you.
— How so?
You cleared your throat. It was the first time you thought about the past since becoming a lonely wolf, or rather, you thought you were a lonely wolf, that changed when you realized you now had friends. Thinking about the past was pointless when you barely had something to be nostalgic about. You only had memories you desperately wanted to forget.
— Well… You know how his only weak spot are kids. When I hit 18, I stopped being a kid for him. I was finally too old to commit mistakes. I think he saw me as a possible threat and wanted to prevent me from becoming one by proving how much power he had over me. He was a boss for me just as much as any goom beneath him.
Bruce nodded thoughtfully. You didn't say more, afraid of delving too much on something you avoided to think about until your darkest nights.
Suddenly you felt your whole body tense when you felt his warm and big hand rest just above your knee and squeeze. You fixed your gaze on his hand but didn't move more than that. It felt strange, you weren't used to gentle touches and maybe there was something more, you Just didn't now what yet. It got worse when he kept his palm there and went further, rolling his thumb in circles around your clothed knee. The thick sweatpants fabric kept the barrier of intimacy up albeit the heat radiating off of him somehow challenged it. How can someone be so warm? You envied people who where always warm like that. You hated feeling cold — one of the reasons why you liked your suit so much.
— I’m sorry about that… — His voice mande your eyes snap to his again, he had a sincere expression. It was off putting and seemed out of character since he was always stoic, at least around you.
You bite your lip in a display of nervousness that escaped your usually well conceived emotions. Your heart beat faster when for a fleeting second he looked at your mouth and just as fast he was fixed on your eyes again. You didn't think the action had any hidden meaning, nor was it intentional, still, you felt the the need to run and hide.
— … Sure… — You moved to cross your legs, silently prompting him to finally take his hand off after lingering for too long. You looked back to the computer, determined to ignore what just happened and reflect on what it meant later. You missed his displeasement.
Bruce never expected himself to feel attracted to you. As he got older, the age range of the people he felt attracted to accompanied his age. He kept to himself and willed it away at first, but you were so… You.
You tried acting cold, kinda like him. But you needed him and strays always caught his attention. Unlike his kids he had a hunch that you wouldn't flourish by being independent and left on your own. You needed a keeper.
At first he felt like a creep every time your body caught his attention or he found himself staring at you for longer than intended. He was hyperaware everytime you two were close, wich usually was when sparring.
Bruce thought that taking you in as his protegee would satiate his need to take care of you and have you close, but after months of paying your bills and mentoring you, he realized his feelings for you were not platonic.
And it seemed like he was not the only one.
He knew the rest of the family noticed his “fleeting” touches that would linger on your shoulder, arms, back and knee. He retracted himself every time you showed clear disfomfort though, but you never outright rejected him.
His theory of his family's knowledge of his interest in you was confirmed one night when Nightwing stopped by to borrow some equipment and witnessed Batman closer than necessary to Silverclaw, while taking too much to inspect — with his eyes and his hands — your gloves that you were wearing and apparently had recently been upgraded.
— Hey, guys! — Dick’s hesitacion towards the scene grew but kept hidden when you both looked up at him surprised. Somehow he caught you both off guard even if the elevator was not that silent. Dick noted that Silverclaw seemed slightly wide-eyed, the only feature in your suit that was left exposed, along with your eyebrows, while Bruce, who wasn't wearing the cow, maintained a neutral expression, like he didn't have anything to hide. You both greeted him when surprise subsided and you took a step back from Bruce, like you just realized your proximity.
— Hmm… I should get going… Gonna meet Red Robin on the docks in a few. — Both men acknowledged your presence again and Dick saw your awkwardness, his parent seemed fine though.
Bruce nodded to you and you suddenly felt like a sidekick who had just gotten permission from Overkill to do something you were supposed to be doing with or without his approval, but needed to make sure your superior thought it to be appropriate for the mission. A soldier reporting to their captain. Like you never actually took a step forward and everything was the same. It made you feel small and hollow. Gave a bad taste to your mouth. It didn't feel good. But you ignored it because it was all in your head.
Before you could move, the oldest hand shot to your waist and squeezed briefly the soft flesh there as best as he could with the armor in the way. You felt your blood freeze and shivered.
— Be careful. We don't know what Killer Croc is doing there. And take care of Red Robin, he only had 10 hours of sleep in the last three days. — You meekly and wordlessly nodded and robotically left on your bike while feeling a pair of eyes scrutinizing your every move.
Dick cleared his throat, finally catching the Dark Knight’s attention for good.
— Dick. Do you need something? — Bruce turned to his work table and started tinkering with what apparently he was doing before you interrupted him earlier.
— I mean, just came to take a spare mask, I think the camera lenses on mine broke. But since I’m already here… — The younger alonged the last word while hopping to his father’s side. — B, can I talk to you about something? Don't be mad. — That made Bruce worried. Dick cringed at his own wording and the older male turned to him and crossed his arms.
— What happened? — Bruce demanded in a Batman’s voice.
— Nothing! Nothing. Sorry, my bad. What I meant was… Are you sure that's what you want? — At his dad’s confused furrowed eyebrows the hero explained. — (Y/N). I mean… They’re quite young, you know?! It's a lot of responsibility... I don't think they've ever dated anyone, even if they're between Jason and Tim’s age and Tim’s a whore… Too much of a slut for his own age, actually- Not the point. It's just, everyone noticed and have been commenting about it, but I don't think they noticed already. — Nightwing leaves it at that, hoping that his father understands what he was trying to say, desperately trying not to have to explain more and feel like he is teaching his own father the ‘puberty will make your body change’ and the ‘birds and bees’ talk, or ‘bats and wolves’ talk, in this case.
Bruce blinked.
— Are you trying to give me the sex talk? — And there goes all his hard work. — And stop swearing. — Dick groans and runs his hand through his face.
— Nooo, why do you make everything so difficult? It’s just… First of all, we trust you okay? It just feels weird when you start flirting with them, especially for the ones that live here. I mean, me and Jason still have nightmares and get the creeps when we remember the time when you used to date Selina. And Damian almost pukes every time Talia tries to rizz you up again. — Dick is careful to dance around the subject of your more than two decades age gap. — And, like I said, I don't think (Y/N) has much experience either. Maybe they don’t know what you're doing. Just… Go slow, okay?!
Bruce holds a huff for the sake of being stoic.
He already envisioned the possibility of you having none or little experience before, and you haven't done anything that told him otherwise yet. Deep down he is kinda… Turned on knowing he could be your first everything. Teach you just how he likes. Be the only one to ever know what you like. He's also happy that, by the way his son said it, it looks like everyone thinks you are both closer than you really are. More intimate, romantic. He and you are the only ones who know that you never had a conversation about the change in your dynamic, limits, future and general status. He thinks you are conflicted, and this conversation only encouraged him to either lay down the cards for you or catch you off guard and put you against the wall. Metaphorically.
And maybe literally.
He's also not going to think too deep in the warm feeling he feels when thinking about corrupting an innocent puppy who isn't even aware of his intentions.
A sheep in wolf's clothing.
— I know all about that, Dick. Don't worry, I'm being mindful of their timing.
— You should move to the manor.
Bruce's blurted out sentence caught you so off guard you choked on your rich people's food. You knew he was simmering something in his mind the whole morning.
He recently got you to work as his assistant in Wayne Enterprises. You felt he either pitied you for having been forced to drop school when you were 11 you couldn't find many options that allowed you to live a comfortable life — in the standards of an old money billionaire at least —, and your lack of education wasn't a problem to be solved fast. You just didn't know he wanted a solid excuse to be your sole provider forever and wanted you close to him all the time.
He also liked how you looked in formal attire. Developed a fantasy of bending you over the table and taking you from behind. Making you suck him off under the table. Then get on his knees and reciprocate the favor. Became obsessed with the sight of the first buttons of your shirt open, exposing your neck and collarbone. Was hooked on how it made your chest look. Was bent on making you lean forward to give him a flash of what's under your shirt.
He was never this perverted for anyone his whole life. You must be special.
The Wayne was unbothered with your choking while people on the other tables glanced your way, he simply chose to pat you on the back — and not take his hand off when you felt better, you still didn't know how to feel about the touchy nature he adopted when with you. He never hurt you, but was it really… Appropriate?
He is your mentor. He is a lot older. Your inner child cried for him to take you in as one more of his children, heal your daddy issues.
Another part of you, on the other hand, thought of you to be too old for him to simply claim you as his child — he took in his children who were close to your age when they were kids —. That part also told you you were undeserving of love, that everyone just wanted to take advantage of you, and that authority figures should shove it up their asses.
Your intrusive thoughts remarked that if he really wanted you sexually — obviously romantically was not an option. All you are is an object. —, well, he is very attractive. And even If you decide that you don't want him that way… You should just take It. He is above you. It's just how hierarchy works. He protects you. He takes care of you. You should be grateful and stay on his good side.
You internally shake your head. No. That's not how it works.
You took a sip of water.
— What are you talking about? Why? — You look at him, trying to understands where this is coming from. Sure, living alone was kinda lonely, but freeing, you didn't feel like you needed to seek anyone's approval or permission when you were alone. Besides, you were barely on your nest now that he got you this job anyway. And Damian seemed to like running off and sleeping in your place when he and Bruce were having their disaccords.
— Well, for one, it would give me peace of mind, it's safer with us. It would also make It easier for you, you wouldn't have to drive home alone at 3 a.m after patrols. — You raised an eyebrow at his current list of reasons. The 1st might be right. But the 2nd was like saying you were a civilian walking home after your shift at your civilian job. Not a vigilant, ex-criminal with 10 years of experience in hand-to-hand combat, maneuvering of weapons, who rides a motorcycle to a toptech safehouse while carrying a bat-utility belt and stainless steel claws. You kept your mouth shut when he seemed to have more reasons. — Damian would love to have you closer, the others too, but you know you are his second favorite. — Your heart felt warm at that. After learning the reason for the puppy’s bites, you couldn't help but see a bit of yourself in him, since you had similar backgrounds. You tried to subtly give him a safe space so he wouldn't turn out to be like you. You didn't want that for anyone. Especially a kid. — And also… I want you closer.
You took a deep breath while nodding slowly and trying not to react. Looks like it's time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Suddenly his hand on your back felt heavier and burning hot.
— Why? — Your tone and steely expression made it clear you demanded a clear and honest answer from him. One he didn't hesitate to give you.
Faking a confused expression, he tilted his head slightly to the side.
— What do you mean why? I want you (Y/N). — Your blood froze. — I think it's been very clear that I’m in love with you. — You felt like you received a punch to the gut. — I… Thought you felt the same… — No, he didn't.
You didn't know what to say.
Bruce slowly retracted his hand away from you, but you stopped him midair by grabbing it. He knew it was time to take the next step.
You didn't even know why you did that. Do you feel the same for him?
— I… I… — Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He nodded understandably.
— It’s okay. You need time to think. My offer still stands. Even if you don't feel the same… I Just care about you above anything, okay? — You reluctantly nodded, staring at him almost dumbfounded. He smiled lightly to show he was still in good spirits.
After a moment of pondering he bit his lower lip, took his hand closer to your face and caressed your cheek, eyes stuck on his face, mesmerized. You were surprised someone as generous and rightful as him could look at you like that. Admirating you like you weren't tainted.
He even gave you a choice! And told you he cared about you! No matter if you feel the same!
He would certainly be a good man to love.
— Say ‘thank you’ to (Y/N), Damian.
— TT. Thank you, (L/N). — The little green-eyed puppy was looking from you to his present repeatedly. Months prior, when Batman first took you in, before you even had the bat insignia on your shoulder, you caught Robin sitting on a roof reading Death Note on his phone. You didn't know what it was and he pretended to be annoyed with your interruption while explaining it. Now, he is completing 14 and you bought him the whole set of volumes. You wanted him to know that you paid attention and cared about him. You wished someone did that when you were his age. Overkill didn't want to hear about wolves or about the cool new things you were seeing for the first time on your trips together.
You smiled.
— You’re welcome, pups. — Damian let out a ‘TT’ again and turned around to run to his friend Jon. You could almost see their wagging tails while they excitedly talked about his present. Bruce's hand running in circles in the small of your back snapped you out of it and you straightened your posture from the bent position you took to talk to the little one.
It was two weeks prior that he asked you to live with them. You accepted and moved a week ago. It was slightly disappointing to know you wouldn't gain a father out of him, but a least his confession made it easier to understand your feelings. You haven’t outright told him that you wanted him like a man, you were testing things out. In the end, you were both adults and at some point you had to learn to trust someone. When looking at Damian you knew you didn't want your whole life to be defined by the abuses of two men. And when you agreed to his offer he seemed to see it as a consent to up his seduction.
His touch was still strange. You learned to like the feel of it, and you were getting used to it, soon It wouldn't be so foreign. You just started realizing how touchstarved you were and were just starting to crave it. Initiating it was still a distant concept, though, you had a — strongly equivocate — hunch that he wouldn't like it, that you would do something wrong in the simplest attempt of hugging him, holding his hand or touching his arm, that your touch wouldn't feel as delicate and tingly as his was, and you would make a fool of yourself. At least when you patted Ace, Titus, Alfred the cat and Batcow they seemed happy.
The others seemed to take well to seeing your interaction together — you didn't know they already knew where this was going way before yourself —. Sure, Jason called him a cradle robber but the ex-Robin always found an excuse to offend him. Everyone laughed at his comment, Dick and Alfred lightly reprimanded him (the former way more amused the latter). Bruce didn't react. You felt rotten. And when Jason later said something like “now Bruce, go play with your puppy and let us handle things” during a briefing, you knew it wasn't an offense — at least, not towards you. Plus, he called you a puppy before to tease you even if you were a year younger than him. — but it stuck in your head and you took the first opportunity to escape Batman’s hand on your tight and lock yourself in a bathroom to take a breath.
— I will transfer the money to your account. — Your head snapped towards Bruce and you exclaimed a genuine and loud ‘What?’, but everyone around you was also being way too loud for anyone to pay attention to you. Bruce hummed. — The set. It must’ve been expensive, I will give you the money back. — You shook your head.
— No, Bruce, It was a present. — Just the idea of it was absurd. What an odd man.
— Well, not to me, right?! So I can do It. — You scoffed at his logic. — Actually you could have told me before you were buying it and I would have given you my card. — He blinked. — That reminds me… — He took your hand and gently guided you out of the living room where the party was situated. No one batted an eye.
Damian had scoffed at the childish idea of a birthday party, but you could see right through him better than anyone.
You looked around confused as he guided you through the corridors and then up the stairs. The loud voices getting distant made the rest of the mansion feel eerily empty.
— Where are we going? — He glanced back at you and then ahead again, before briefly squeezing your hand.
— To my study. I have something for you there.
His response didn't satisfy all your curiosity but you knew he wouldn't give you more than that.
When you got there he opened the door for you and encouraged you to enter first with a hand on your lower back, then he shut the door closed and guided you to stand in front of his table. He walked around, opened a cabinet, took ou an envelope and came back to your side. The older male extended the envelope at you, who took it with suspicion after a moment of hesitation.
You forced yourself to not look up while you analyzed the envelope and opened it, ignoring both of his warm and gigantic hands that he positioned on your waist and squeezed — he liked squeezing you a lot, you noticed. — while he lightly reclined himself to sit on top of the table, in front of you, most of his weight being distributed to his long and meaty legs that were also on each side of you. He even pulled you closer and even if there was still space between your bodies, you were close enough to feel his heat.
You looked at the content inside the paper and froze. Such reaction could have come either from the sight of a black card with your name on it or because he chose that moment to sneak his hands under your shirt and caress your bare waist slowly with his calloused fingertips.
— No. — You slapped the card and paper against his chest. The bastard didn't react.
— Yes.
— No!
— Yes.
— I can't take it! — You kicked the ground stubbornly. He still didn't move, stubbornly.
— Why not? — You raised both eyebrows.
— Bruce, are you kidding me? That thing is limitless.
— Your point being? — You blinked several times.
— Wow… I knew you were one of those rich eccentric guys, but putting on a batsuit… — You refused to call it a costume and imply that you also wore a costume and were technically a furry. You learned that word from Tim. — … And beating up criminals is one thing. Going around distributing limitless cards to all your friends is simply insane! — One side of his mouth tilted up in what you quietly admitted was a sexy smark.
— Actually if I wanted to do that I could. But you are not a friend. You are part of the family. And my girlfriend. — And mine. His tongue craved to utter.
That easily silenced you. You didn't know how to react to that. You hacked your brain for any moment were you told him something in that connotation. You didn't find it. But well, couldn't blame the guy, he did told you he wanted you and you didn't stop his moves.
You cleared your throat, trying to hide your shock. He didn't seem surprised by your reaction.
It was another thing that being with them changed in you. You don't control your emotions 24/7 anymore, only when you are out and about as Silverclaw. In the past it was second nature, but feeling happiness was so new to you that you weren't used to trying to hide it yet. Nor wanted to. And you slowly gave yourself permission to be free and express most of what you felt. Not everything, you were still surrounded by a very odd-cryptic-strategizing-hyperanalyser-micro-expressions-reader-and-weird-with-emotions group of people. But you felt no one was really going to judge you if you chose to be free.
— I-I… Yeah… Yeah, okay. You are right. — You meekly accepted his statement. If he said it was true, then it was true. You would follow his lead. You are way too loyal and he knows that. You both wondered what was your limit. You were afraid of what would happen when that limit came. Would you just keep going just to make him happy? He hoped you did.
Actually, he might test some of those limits right now.
He carefully took the card and envelope from your hand and set it on the table behind him, you just rested your palms against his chest. Baby steps for you. Bruce wished that baby was a speedster.
You stuttered when he brought you closer, leaned forward and started tracing a random path of kisses on the skin of your neck. You allowed his sucking and laping of your skin for a few minutes and even tried running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. His hands started roaming.
When his right squeezed the left cheek of your ass though, you gave a slight jump. It felt very sudden and activated your fight or flight instinct.
— W-We should go back downstairs. — You blurted out. Bruce just hummed in response, the vibration tickling your neck and ear. Aside from that he didn't stop his ministrations and that made you feel worse. Maybe you were the problem? Were you not clear enough? Shouldn't you endure more? For you? For him? He was used to people going a lot further with him, and here you were, trying to force him to stop just when he tried to spice things up with you. For fuck’s sake, you haven't even kissed him yet!
You bit your lip and willed your muscles to relax. Maybe all you need to do is endure a little bit more and you will get used to it. Until now that seemed to be the pattern.
Ignoring your pounding heart, you closed your eyes and just tried to enjoy it. You thought it was working until suddenly he stopped, and before you could open your eyes, stole a kiss from you.
It didn't grow to more than a half-second peck because your instincts to run took over your body and you jumped away from him, your hands extended in front of your body like you were dealing with a wild animal.
You just stared at each other with almost wide eyes for a few seconds, before the older male sighed, looked down and pressed the bridge of his nose with his pointer and thumb. Oh no. He wasn't happy. You shouldn't have done that. You fucked up.
— I’m sorry. — Bruce looked stressed when he rubbed his hand around his face, then brought it up to push his perfectly styled hair back. You shook your head like a scared kid. He finally looked up at you. — I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.
— No, no, it’s okay, I… Liked it. — You almost whispered in a meek voice. — Was just surprised. — Bruce nodded. He was unhappy with himself that he got carried away and almost fucked things up with you. But his infatuation made him lose train of thought sometimes. Yes. He wants to do bad things to you, corrupt you, desperately. But he doesn't want you trying to run away from him just yet, if ever.
You slowly made your way towards him again, your arms around your body, trying to bring yourself comfort. You wanted him to hug you and comfort you the same way, but you didn't know if he would do that, and if he did touch you again, would it really make you feel better?
It felt wrong. You just now had asked for him to stop completely, or at least give you a break, and he blatantly ignored it. Made you feel invisible, insignifcant, desperate enough to run. And here you were, seeking for a signal that he wouldn't give up on you just yet.
— Did… Did you know I never had a birthday party? — You forced yourself not to vacillate and put your hands on his shoulders.
— Hmm? — He gazed at you curiously but didn't touch you yet. It made you feel anxious and you forced yourself to take another step closer. Now you were just as close as you were before.
— I never had a birthday party. And last time I was invited to one I was 10. I didn't get to go though, it was my best friend's party, but my father was in a bad mood, so my mom said it was better not to do anything that could set him off. So I stayed home. — You felt his fingertips caressing tracing both of your tights carefully, it could almost be an unconscious move by how intensely concentrated he seemed with your story. — Next day, at school, everyone was talking about how fun, cool and amazing it was. I felt jealous and said I would have the best birthday party ever when I hit 11. I didn't. And no one remembered my promise. — He nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed with what was probably sympathy at you and anger at you father. At least that's how you felt. Sad for the younger you and hatred towards your father. — If you could… — You elongated your sentence, trying to hint your request for him, and he cut you off just like you wanted, expressing what was on his mind.
— What's your favorite cake flavor?
The gala ended just about an hour ago but you were both already in bed. Domesticity came easy when living together and even when you had your own room — much to his dismay. — Bruce quickly worked on getting you used to him enough to lay down beside him. And right now he was very grateful that you didn't have socials or else his plans for the night would’ve been interrupted by your discomfort about being called ‘Bruce Wayne’s controversially young new sweetheart’ and comments about his playboy mask.
He was getting impatient but Bruce knew that all good things come slowly, he took the night off to focus only on his goal.
You were laid down on your bed, in your own room and he was beside you, facing you, while you both talked, held hands and occasionally exchanged chaste kisses. It was cute, and innocent, but his balls had been blue since the party three weeks ago.
It was fine when his right hand let go of your left, his arm being thrown around your waist to accommodate the position, and placed on your middle. He kept running his hand around your upper body slowly and you swayed closer to him. At this point the only sounds in the room came from kisses and the friction of skin against fabric.
When Bruce angled himself and pushed in your direction until he was on top of you, It was still okay. What made you startled and nervous was when he pressed his hips down and you felt his hard cock against your thigh — the back of your mind screamed about how big he was and how it wouldn't fit when the time comes.
— Hmm… Bruce? — You felt a little antsy, but you thought he would understand what you were trying to say. Didn't seem like the case, since he kept kissing you to silence you. You felt suffocated and that prompted you to push his chest weekly. Maybe you needed to give a clearer signal.
Bruce stared at you from above for a second before closing his eyes and sighing.
His reaction shocked you and you didn't move when he got off and plopped down beside you again, this time putting more distance between your bodies and facing the ceiling. He draped his arm over his face and took a deep breath.
You sheepishly tilted to your side and went closer to him, his possible annoyance towards you made you more reluctant to touch him, but you did it anyway, trying to appease him.
— Bruce…
— What is it? — He finally looked at you. He was not happy. — You don't trust me yet? — His furrowed brows, grave voice and held back tone intimidated you slightly, it just caused more worry.
— N-No, it's not that… — Bruce thought it was better to turn down a notch on his acting if he wanted to have his way with you tonight.
He nodded, relaxed his muscles and turned his body in your direction again. He draped his arm around your waist and started trailing slow kisses down your neck to calm you down.
— I know. I know, puppy. — He uttered carefully and nodded reassuringly. — It's not your fault. I'm just a little… Frustrated, is all. — Your brows cinched.
— Frustrated with… Me? — Your heart ached at the thought. It was hard hearing him, and just as hard saying it out loud. Bruce shook his head.
— I just don't understand. I’ve been taking care of you for so long, been waiting for you, doing so much for you. But it's like you are still guarding yourself from me… I love you, pup, you are everything to me and I desire you. Wanna make you feel good. But, sometimes, you make me feel like… Like you don't feel the same… — You heart fell and you felt an urge to fix your mistakes.
— But I-I do! I just… — A sigh and then a deep breath. — … How can I do better? — You said meekly.
Bruce held back a smirk, you were smart even if insecure, and preening would give off his lewd plotting.
The dark knight pretended to contemplate for a brief moment as if he didn't plan every step beforehand.
— … We don't have to go all the way now, you could just… You could let me finger you? — Half of you felt relieved, the other, the one that just wanted to keep him happy, felt nervous but determined.
Your inexperienced and people pleaser mind couldn't comprehend how him doing things to you could also be considered him taking advantage of you. That was one of your biggest nightmares and paranoia. Growing up you were always afraid that your ex-mentor would assault you, or allow one of his employers and colleagues to hurt you just because they asked or paid for some fun with the young pretty thing. Especially after you weren't underage anymore, since he only seemed to have a soft spot for them. It somehow, thankfully, never happened, only impure comments were made and he cut them off every time until you were 18, after that you were left on your own and if you didn't do anything he saw it as you wanting it to happen since he trained you more than enough to protect yourself and show authority with others that were not him.
If Bruce wanted to pleasure you and not himself… Then he was really selfless and only wanted to help you with your little problem. He's been taking such good care of you for so long, there’s no reason to believe he won't do the same now.
So you nodded, shaken.
You let him maneuver you how he wanted and ended up the same way your making out session started, you on your back and the older man facing your direction. You watched closely and willing your heart to stop pounding as he undressed your legs and hips from your pants and underwear. It was awkward feeling so exposed, especially when he sneaked his arm between your legs and started fondling your dry center.
— Relax… Deep breaths… Just close your eyes and enjoy it… — His grave and husky voice whispers in your ear before teeth start nibbling on it, your whole body shivered and you did as he instructed, not sure if it was working until his friction felt less burning and waves of pleasure started rolling through you. You were right, he always wanted what's good for you, you reassured yourself and felt a little comforted, even if your heart was still pounding.
You let out a surprised gasp and your eyes shot open when you heard a loud wet squelch, the first thing you saw thing you saw were the movements of his wrist, the second, his face, eyes dead set on observing you, and he chuckled at your reaction.
— See? No reason to worry… — And worry you did not. You knew this short period of nervousness and those guilty feelings you were experiencing would be worth it in the future. And Bruce knew the risks he took and manipulation were proving their value right now.
He changes his up and down movements to circles and you let out a sound that you never heard coming out of your own mouth. Your eyes fluttered close automatically and your hand shot to grip his shirt with an unconscious amount of force.
— I-I like this better… — Bruce hummed and resumed working his mouth from your ear, to neck and collarbone.
His hand moves were slow and deliberate, but stable. The older man angles his body in an upper position so he could easily use his left hand to pull your shirt up slowly until your chest and pouting nipples were exposed. Lost in arousal and pleasure and thrusting he knew what he was doing you didn't bat an eye towards his actions.
You moaned louder when you felt his soft chapped lips close around your nipple and wet warm tongue playing with the sensitive bud. Bruce felt your lower lips getting wetter and used that to his advantage to intrude the squelching hole between your legs with his fingers curved upwards, his thumb expertly still running circles around your clit.
You gasped and both your hands shot to grab the bed comforter under you. It was the first time someone touched you like that and it was a while since you played with your bud yourself, so before you knew it, your pussy was squeezing and milking his fingers in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and this time the man couldn’t stop his grin from taking over his face.
☆ First Sight, Now First Flight — Flug x Hero!Reader HCs ☆
Genre: Fluff || They/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed
──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────
ᯓᡣ𐭩 He'd already seen you by now, plenty of times. As the headliner for the news, the latest target of Black Hat Org, and even passing you on the way to a different mission. You'd already met, and agonizingly enough, the doctor realized he has more than just the friendly rivalry type of feelings for you
ᯓᡣ𐭩 You give a spark to his dull, often painful work. A light to chase, something to keep after. A motive that doesn't just fill him with the anger that reminded him why he's a villain to begin with, but also hope. He hopes to keep running into you, to keep hearing your voice declare justice against him. And, as all rational men of science do, he initially thinks you somehow gave him an illness to make him think of you constantly
ᯓᡣ𐭩 After several tests and deductions came up inconclusive or flat-out negative, Flug had to sit in his stiff bed for quite a long time to figure it out. It took about a million times of pushing away the thought of something so juvenile and simple as a crush before he saw you on the news once again. Your strong stance, confident words, and bright smile… dammit, he was hooked
ᯓᡣ𐭩 He kept ambling around the topic, facing you as always. His once firm words of villainy, however, had suffered gravely. Now he was a lot more likely to stumble or stutter partway through, and if you got too close during a fight his thought process would chuck itself out the metaphorical window. Flug was a complete mess, and Demencia wasted no time in poking fun at him for it
ᯓᡣ𐭩 One time he bravely mustered together his courage, prepared to give you a taste for your own tricks. He could also be charming and infuriatingly attractive! You'd see! Unfortunately though halfway through trying to flatteringly compare you to an airplane, embarrassment hit like a crushing weight and he fled the scene within the minute
ᯓᡣ𐭩 You had to admit to yourself, Flug was oddly cute. All the times he accidentally complimented you while trying to throw insults made your day, and he didn't look so evil while nervously scuffing his shoe against the pavement when trying to have a civil conversation for once. Sometimes you swore you could see excitement in what you could see of his eyes when he noticed you approaching
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Flug is a lot better at accidental flirting than he thinks. He's really sweet when his nerves don't get in the way, but that's usually hidden behind him keeping up the "I'm just a villain that wants to see heroes crumble" act. Despite what he claims, he gets openly afraid if he thinks he's genuinely hurt you in any way
ᯓᡣ𐭩 It takes quite a long time, but if he's managed to soften up around you he'll try to rehearse a speech while reading off of index cards about how he wants to go on a date. If he's still keeping up that hero/villain rivalry though, it likely tumbles out by complete accident when he's ranting to you about how annoyingly often you take up his thoughts before he becomes utterly mortified
