Reading list/Fanfic Masterlist Yandere!Batfamily X Reader
NONE OF THESE FANFICS BELONG TO ME, this is more of a personal reading list of fanfics I follow and such, all the links lead you to the creators' direct blogs.
Almost all the fanfics in the 'platonic' section are with Neglected!Reader, I'm addicted to that trope.
More than one link will lead you to the authors' master list instead of a masterlist for the series. This is because they don't have a dedicated list for the series, and it was easier for me to keep them this way. (There are also links to the first chapter, in this case, the author probably left the other chapters there, in addition to imagines, headcanons, and drabbles on their own.)
I thought about adding a short description below the links to explain what the fanfic is about… maybe I'll do it later or just leave it as it is.
Not - series
Again and. Again - series
Bruce hears Reader call someone else "dad." - drabble
Reader who only recognizes Alfred - drabble
[UN] Fair - series
Adorned in pearls (although Bruce here is not platonic…) - one shot
Batfamily with a Shallow Reader - imagine
Reader in Squid Games - imagine
Crack Baby - series
Smalltown Meta!Reader - series
Forget me not - series
No more Chances - series
Inmorta! Reader - series
Undoing Fate - series (it's not yandere but it has my favorite cliche so…)
Tip toes - series
Meet The Waynes - series
Bring back the dead - series
Obsessive reader in the shadows - imagine
There are two fanfictions here, the first fic doesn't have a name and I don't know what to name it. - series
Who said money can´t buy hapinness (considering the # I assume that the batfam is platonic….but I'm not sure) - series
Between life and death, death is tempting - series
Ain´t no sushine - series
Beyond the Bat - series
Crow choir - series
Waterbone - drabble
Marine!Reader - one shot? drabble?
Saboteur - series/imagine
Unwanted embrace - series
I'm almost sure this was one of the pioneering stories in this trope. - one shot
Little Demon - one shot
Goodbye World - one shot
Batsis wakes up in a fanfic - imagine? drabble?
Batfam playing with Reader - I think it's a drabble…I don't know
Pity Party - series
Yandere Al Ghuls! - series
How would they spend time with you after the kidnapping? -drabble
You´re a fucking weird hacker - one shot
Lucid Dreams - series
Ghost of the Past - series
Soulamate Soul Animal - series
Good Look(includes more DC yanderes characters) - series
Web Bound (It is NOT yandere, but it does have obsessive characters) - Series
Bug like Angel - series
The other family - one shot
Batman! Damian Wayne x Robin! Reader - one shot?
Children!Reader who loves Tim more than Dick - headcanon
Yandere!Batfam Headcanons - headcanon xd
Advantages and disadvantages of Neglected! Reader - Headcanon(?)
When your family only cherish you after your death - series
Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Elle Woods!Reader - series
My pathetic family - series(?)
The ballad of a bygone blight - series
Batmon and his baby -drabble/ Scenery (bruce is romantic)
Reader happy to be ignored - drabble/Scenery
What We Want - series
The sinfull Allure (the story is not yandere, but it has the batboys, and I love this reverse harem) - series
Seven Days a Week - Hit me Hard and sort - two series
First married to Bruce - one shot
As Yanderes´ Universe - one shot series?
Polyamory with Aged Up! Damian Wayne and John Kent - imagine
Sisters!Reader x Batboys - Headcanon? (according to the hashtags)
Greetings - drabble?
How Dick and Damian would handle learnig reader is dating somebody? - Drabble?
Addictive - Series
Do You Think We´ll Be In Love Forever? (includes more DC characters) - various drabbles
Perfect Life - one shot
Batboys and reader who knows - headcanon set?
Checkmate - one shot
Tim Drake x nursing student!Reader - one shot
Remedial Lesson (18+) - One shot
Dommy Mommy!Reader - headcanon
Reader hosted by Tim Drake - one shot
Yandere self-aware Dick Grayson - headcanon set
Moon Prism Power! - imagine
What types of yanderes would the Batboys be? - headcanon
Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.
Masterlist: Prev; Next;
Chapter 7 - Hunt
Everyone knows that Jason and Bruce have their differences, and honestly, no one can really blame Jason for not being his usual- er, past self. He was a street kid, living- surviving off of scraps, steeling, getting caught by Batman, sent away from Batman, then rescued again by Batman, taken in, trained as RobinTM, fighting crime (albeit with excess force), finds out his biological mother is alive, finds her and only to get betrayed by her, gets beaten up by Joker™, and then blown up by Joker’s bomb. The next thing he knows, he wakes up in a coffin, breaks out, gets taken by Talia™, and then gets ‘revived’ via the Lazarus Pit™, and his path of (av)revenge. The point is, he’s changed.
The whole thing after beating the Joker and the ‘somewhat’ reconciliation with Bruce, he still cares for Dick, his ‘replacement’ Time, and even the demon spawn Damien. He cares for Cassandra, Barbara, and Stephanie. Hell, he cares for Duke who is the newest addition to their broken family. He cares for Bruce, despite everything he doesn’t want to lose this family. He’s changed but he is still the same as well.
Which is why, anything that can potentially mess with his family, he will set aside his differences (the ones that are left) and play a part to keep his family (regardless of how broken or messed up they are) safe, keep his anchor whole.
So when news of runaways, abducted, and even street kids are going missing, he didn’t hesitate to join forces with Bruce and the rest of the gang™ to put a stop to this. No matter how long it took to find a pattern, he can’t help but picture his past self, when Batman first caught him stealing, sent him away, only to be trained to steal and then saved again by him, he pictures vulnerable teens who are scared, who had no choice, who were forced- and there is never a day that goes by that he isn’t thankful to Batman- to Bruce, despite everything.
He’s channeled his anger and vengeance for something good, like he used to do with Bruce. He doesn’t kill, no not anymore- doesn’t mean he won't, not unless absolutely necessary.
But its people like Jacob, that really tip-toe the line that he won’t hesitate to cross but is restraining himself from pulling a bullet through Jacob’s skull.
Jason’s seen his fair share of corruption, of violence, of gore and the absolute worst of humanity- hell, he even became a monster- but never stayed a monster. Jacob isn’t the sickest of them, but he’s right up there for being vile, and apathetic to the misfortunes of these kids.
Jason wonders, if putting a bullet in all of these criminals, will it really reduce the crime rate? Or will these monsters just get quicker, get smarter, creative and get away with their sick twisted crimes? Are they really making a difference, or are they perpetrating more people to commit crimes? Will this cycle ever end?
Jason wants to believe so. It just takes time, blood, and sweat.
When he first entered the bar, he quickly made his way around the premises, checked every nook and cranny of the building, memorised the layout to a T. His only contact was a worker, a bouncer who attacked, but no Jacob insight.
The rat had somehow gotten away. Once he knocked out the bouncer, and secured him (and possibly gave him a concussion), he radioed Oracle.
“Anything yet?” He questioned.
“Tim’s with B, apparently they got a list, waiting for confirmation.” He heard her sigh, stress evident in her tone. “Dad got a call from them, no recording.”
Jason kept quiet, just listening. Once he made sure the bouncer wouldn’t (somehow) escape, he made his way back towards the employees office. His boots made no noise, as he stealthily reached for the knob.
Opening the door, the air stilled and his eyes narrowed, ears sharp, body still, one foot inside the room, hand still on the door while the other reached for his gun™. His pupils took in his surroundings, before he fully stepped inside.
His steps are slow and deliberate, eyes still roaming the room, making sure nothing catches him by surprise. He had half a mind to open his mouth, but decided against it.
Cabinets opened, nothing taken out. His eyes turned to a corner. Files seem to be in place, unmoved. Yet to Jason’s trained eye, he noticed a couple of papers sticking out. Slowly making his way behind the desk, he placed his gun back in its holster. Laptop opened. Someone was in here. This was closed when I got here. Someone was in here while I was out there. Behind the hidden door.
His eyes roamed the open computer, noticing an open group chat. His eyes widened, soaking all the information displayed on the screen. In front of him, was a picture of a face, a very familiar face. His eyes zoned in on the pixels, studying, committing everything to memory, his eyes landed on the message. Name: Nada, age: young adult. Comments: Street rat with skills in fighting, quick on her feet, and highly adaptable. No ties, alone. Needs to be trained. Retrieval pending. Last seen; homeless shelter by the main road, visits various shelters in the area, never stays in one place for long.
Jason quickly places a special flash drive, waiting for it to connect to the Batcave’s computer. “She’s a target.” He recalls his earlier encounter just hours ago, how she didn’t know why she was being chased. He remembers her tensed body, stressed composure and fast thinking. He has to go and find her, she’s in danger.
His mind also reminds him of her eyes, not of her eye color, but of the desperate look she had. She looked tired, lost, exhausted and on the brink of collapse. They say that ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’ and he couldn’t agree more. His trained eyes could see that she’s holding it together, but just barely, but she’s strong and she’s also scared, and now that she’s involved in this whole trafficking situation, he wonders if she knows just how deep her involvement goes. She now has a target on her back, but he promised to protect her. He promises now that they won’t lay a finger on her, and then, she just might breathe easy.
Maybe she won’t have to look behind her in paranoia, her shoulders won't have to sag, her lips won’t tremble in worry, and her eyes won’t have to dart around for security. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to see her smile, shoulders relaxed, and her eyes would shine with security.
Security he knows he can provide once he catches that rat bastard.
Just as the screen flashed ‘Connected’ Jason saw movement from the corner of his eye. Snapping his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. There was nothing there.
Could it have been paranoia on his end? Probably, god knows that he was never the same after reviving. Jason focused his eyes, seeing nothing but a gray blue wall and cabinets opened, just as it was when he entered the second time.
With the laptop already connected to the Bat computer™, he took a cautious step forward, his eyes narrowed. If his mind was playing tricks on him, then he can say he has officially lost it. He swears he can feel someone in this room with him. And if he concentrates hard enough, his brain is trying to convince him that there is a faint outline of a person standing just arms length from him.
His phone vibrated, catching his attention. A message from Barbara. Unlocking his phone, he scrolled down until his thumb slammed on the screen, stopping mid scroll, stepping back into place in front of the laptop.
In the third picture, he clocked it and zoomed in.
His breath hitches.
A blurry picture, black medical mask, eyes away from the shot, taken without her knowing? Focused at someone in front of her but out of the photo frame.
“Nada.”
Another ‘ding!’ from the laptop. A new message.
‘No family, no friends, no ties, not even a missing poster, no one will be searching. Once secured, we depart. Currently searching.’
In the distance, a window shut quietly with a soft ‘click’ went unheard.
-
Making it to the railing just as your camouflage state began to fade, your breath became sharp and uneven, throat closing up on you. With shaken steps you fell to your knees, reaching for your bag and opening it. Fingers trembling, making it difficult to even unzip the damn bag!
Your mind kept racing to everything you found. It wasn’t even the fact that they were currently searching for you, it was the fact that this situation was way bigger and disastrous than you thought.
Your plan was simple. Just get Jacob and co. incarcerated while avoiding Batman and co. and then you’ll solely focus on finding a better power source for your watch in order to get home. You don't even want to mess with The Spot anymore, you just want to get home, your home, even if it’s empty, bare, and cold.
You don’t even have any memorabilia with you, to remember those you love and lost. It’s driving you insane! It feels like you’re slowly forgetting the faces of uncle Ben, aunt May, and even Peter Parker.
Yanking the mask off, clutching the fabric tightly, you took deep gulps of air, enough for you to focus on your five senses. The heavy smell of the city's natural pollution, the rusty paint getting chipped off the emergency stair railing, the sharp almost iron taste every time you swallow, the worn out look of your backpack, and the constant buz of car horns in the distance is what you focus on. Ragged breath slowly coming down to an even tone, blurry vision turning clear, beating heart slowing down to an even tempo after a while of sitting there. You clutch the bag in your hands with an iron grip.
God you miss them. You miss Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s warmth, and Peter’s love. Fuck. You just want to go back. But you know you can’t. Not now, not yet. Not after all this is seen through. You can’t, no, it’s not ‘can’t’ it’s the fact that you won’t leave this mess unresolved. You will make sure Jacob and his associates here get arrested, and the kids get rescued, only then can you finally turn your back and go home.
After calming down, you shuffle around your bag, eye focusing on your civilian clothes. Since the previous plan is currently rotting at the bottom of a sewer, you'll just have to adapt. You’re good at that, that’s all you have ever been good at. Adapting and overcoming.
New plan, you’re going to find exactly where these missing kids are being taken to, and hopefully, ideally, rescue them. You can’t abandon them, not when you know it’s this deep, this serious. Your conscience wouldn’t let you walk away. Besides, it’s not your way of doing things either, not your spidey way. It seems Gotham still needs all the help it can get, even if it’s from an outsider dropping in.
Also, just to interject, fuck whoever keeps messing with your plans. Nothing has ever really gone your way but still, living in Gotham (not that you’re exactly living in Gotham as a choice) sucks balls. You miss New York, your New York City…
Grabbing your bag and climbing to the roof of the building, you change out of your suit and into your civilian clothes (you’re not risking getting exposed as a hero), making sure you haven’t flashed anyone in case someone is taking a smoke break on another roof or something. You’re also not leaving your bag in a random building either because with your shit (spider) luck, you’ll probably get robbed too, so going back to the junkyard is key.
Who knows how long this will take, but you know you only have a couple of hours. You plan to get caught tonight. So, you might as well set up your escape. After that, a nice, long shower sounds heavenly.
Taking a glance at the quiet bar, your mind drowns you.
You met Red Hood this time. Not Jason Todd, the stranger in an alleyway who was a great meat shield, but his alter ego, the one who fights to protect, and shoots to defend. Arguably one of the bat family members you least want to fight. The one you least want to encounter (much less fight) is Batman himself.
Why Jason Todd was in the bar was obvious the second you encountered him. You were thankful that your camouflage worked when that door opened, honestly, you’re surprised your stress levels didn’t accidentally cancel your ability like it does with your webs.
Recalling the sheer panic you felt when you noticed him walk in, eyes surveying his surroundings, taking note of anything that might have been misplaced and you swore your heart dropped when he made his way towards you, behind the desk. You had to back up almost against the cabinets, eyes trained specifically on him and his body movements.
When he spoke, you knew you had to get out of there. So you slowly inched yourself closer to the opened door (you wouldn’t know what to do if he had closed the door), and as if by senses he turned his head in your direction the second you took a big step away. You wanted to cry. But by some god given miracle, he got distracted and you booked it away, heart too loud, you’re sure even he could hear it.
You’re sure that you are now on Red Hood’s radar and you don’t want to run into him as either spider-woman or as a civilian.
Swinging back towards the junkyard, you drop your bag and place everything but the envelope inside, and web it to your beacon.
After cocooning it, you place it in a corner on the ceiling, using the shadows to camouflage it. You’re making sure everything is set and ready for a quick getaway once you’re done. You can’t afford to make any mistakes, and you can’t stay here any longer. You feel yourself spiraling and every day a bit of hope inside you dies.
If you don’t succeed this time, you don’t think you’ll manage another day, another attempt. This is your one and only shot, because if you fail, you’re guaranteed to get caught by Batman™, and you know you won’t be able to escape ever again. It either ends with you going home, or yourself.
Miguel will understand, he’ll get it. And if not, then that’s too fucking bad. You did everything you could, and if you’re stuck here indefinitely, then you’d rather go on your own terms then let life keep fucking with you. You tried, you know you did, Miguel sure knows you did, but you really can’t take it anymore should you fail in getting back home again.
You wonder if you’ll somehow see Peter in the afterlife despite being stranded in another dimension…
Regardless, once you save the kids, and get Jacob arrested you’re booking it here, grabbing your final version of your beacon and heading straight to the East End.
You’re going to suck up all the energy on an electric company building you found. Just to give the final power boost your watch needs to be fully functional. Just enough juice to open a portal and get the fuck out of dodge.
Because bumping into Jason twice just confirmed things. Batman is onto Jacob and therefore you as well. And-- now you are no longer a nobody, not anymore. You just became a ‘somebody’, a target for him and his wards. You’re undeniably, unequivocally fucked beyond belief. The Narrows aren't safe for you anymore- you have to skedaddle.
You just want out of this fucking universe.
-
The sound of the keys going ‘Click Clack’ echoed throughout the batcave, the screen the only source of illumination seeping through the darkness of the underground.
Barbara had been dutifully scanning faces throughout the Narrows in search of a very suspiciously recurring civilian. Tabs open to clips on loop of said civilian entering, exiting, walking, and disappearing into dark alleyways. A female, taller than Tim but a tad bit shorter than Jason. If she had to guess, ‘Nada’ as she’s being referred to, is somewhere in between Duke’s height to Dick’s height. Eyes sharp, guarded, cold- no not cold- cautious, she’s very cautious.
Despite the grainy videos she’s managed to clip, she can’t help but be somewhat entranced, committing what she can to memory. Any other form of information she memorizes is from the shared screen of the laptop where Jason is located.
“Got any updates Oracle?” Tim’s voice connected to her comms.
“I repeat again, despite the obvious fact that there’s a severe lack of surveillance cameras in the Narrows, no, the last I was able to find of ‘Nada’ is her going into the library about two hours ago, and left around twenty minutes later. I’m still searching. Though we’re on a timer.”
“Why’s that?”
“Jason connected me to the Bar, she’s being hunted. I don’t know who’s on her tail, but she is being located as we speak. Once she’s picked-up, they’re going to disappear tonight at the latest.” She stressed as a new pop-up clip appeared on her screen. “Signal, your target has been spotted, black sweater, no design, baggy dark blue jeans, hoodie up. He’s ten minutes away from you. Sending coordinates.”
“‘Ppreciate it Oracle.”
“Red Robin, ETA?” She was starting to get antsy.
“Twenty. Why?”
“I have a report of very suspicious activities down at the shore. Not Marina.” She informed.
“Got it. I’ll head out to check once I drop this off.”
“Batman, Red Hood captured one of the bouncers but Jacob is currently MIA. Robin and Superboy detained the mercenary and a civilian is confirmed to be a ‘package’. Currently searching. How are things on your end?”
“Sebastian is dead.” Her blood ran cold. What? “Investiaging.” And that was it.
What a bombshell. It seems that there are rats hiding in the police force- again. “should I look into it?” She offered.
“No, focus on your mission.” Well alright then. Doesn’t mean she isn’t still going to do it.
Then silence once again overtook the cave. Ever since the arrest of Sebastian, everything seems to have been spiraling and soon it will be out of control. After this, she wants a fucking break, maybe entertain Steph and go on a shopping spree, or relax and watch Cass practice her moves, or even just go back to the library. She’s been stuck in this cave™ helping Bruce locate the disturbance that appeared not too long ago and this case that seems to be bigger than they had imagined.
Lifting her arms up and stretching her sore body until she heard satisfying cracks, she fixed her glasses and once again resumed the search for their civilian friend. Time was of the essence after all.
Then another pop-up window with a clip appeared on her screen, overshadowing everything. Her eyes widened and she quickly connected herself to the comms. “Found her! Spotted a block away from the sanctuary. Gray sweatshirt, sweatpants, black mask, turning the corner. Sending coordinates.”
A cherry voice responded. “Roger that!”
-
They say walking is a helpful way to calm the mind, and honestly, you’d agree if you weren’t currently on a mission to get yourself kidnapped. Not only that but you also had to make it fucking believable that this is against your will, and that you’re scared. Not too tall of an order but you really have to sell it because the LAST thing you want is for the bats to take an interest in you.
You really can’t take any more setbacks.
Turning the corner, you spot a shelter with quite the people crowding around. This was planned of course. Taking a deep breath you make your way towards the shelter, making sure not to bump into any gothamites due to rush hour.
Weaving around people you get about fifteen feet from the entrance before you stop dead in your tracks. The hair on your body stood tall and your body went into a cold sweat as your spider sense started to buzz before becoming something akin to static noise, loud and constant, just like your anxiety and you felt your mental state depleting by the second. You’d like to believe your body noticed before your senses did. But at this point, who fucking cares.
Your sudden halt caused some people to bump into you, cursing you as they moved around and entered the shelter. Though that didn’t bother you anymore since your attention had been snatched.
The soft tingling feeling turned into a buzz as it spread throughout your body, like thousands of spiders crawling all over your body. This feeling was more than enough of a warning. Like static shock. Cold sweat consumed your very being, body frozen on the pavement, an unbearable weight burdened you, crushing you, shackling you to an even deeper ocean of hopelessness and despair. Choking you, filling up your lungs, suffocating, drowning, clawing-- you just want to breathe damnit! just enough to get home…
You felt like throwing up and then throwing yourself off a bridge- in that order. You’re tired, you haven’t slept well since you got here, haven’t had a decent and nutritious meal, you’re stressed, you’re sleepy, you’re hungry, and you just. Want. to go. Home. You desperately want to give up, you do-- but you can’t. Not yet. Not until you finish this. Not until you save those kids first, then try one last time.
You’re involved, and in way too deep to leave it to someone else, to leave it to the bats and birds.
Finding your resolve, you snap back into reality. No matter just how fragile yours has become. It was time to focus and devise a plan of escape. You can’t afford to get spotted here. Not by them. Not now, not ever.
Biting your lip you quickly made haste to book the fuck out of there. There was no shot you were going to trap yourself inside when danger is lurking here in this sanctuary.
Nah-uh, no way, definitely not. You weren’t ready for that. You were fucking cooked because from your pariferal vision, you spotted two very familiar girls despite being surrounding with people with the same hair color or features. You were clearly, undeniably, unequivocally, definitely, obviously, unquestionably, plainly, and utterly fucked.
Why were they there, in that specific shelter? You had the unfortunate pleasure of coming to a conclusion you were almost 100% fucking certain.
They were here for you.
And you pray to any and every god in this universe and yours regardless of feelings and stands, that you were wrong and that they in fact were not here because of you.
So you did a 180 and fucking dipped, but did your very fucking best to not make it noticeable how freaked the fuck out you are. Speed walking away and blending into the sea of gothamites for your grand escape.
You don’t know whether to attribute this to your body or spider senses but the sharp prickling feeling caused the hair on your neck to stand and you knew, you fucking knew- you were spotted. Spotted by Cassandra Cain™ and Stephanie Brown™.
“Hey you! Wait- Wait up!”
Yea. Fuck no you were not going to wait. Bye! Just act like you never heard them. Easy. Merging with civilians’ rush hour you did everything to break line of sight before speed walking and turning a corner. Then, when the sharp feeling of being watched snapped into a buzz you fucking booked it down alleyways, avoiding cameras as much as you can while looking back every so often to make sure you’re in the clear.
You doubt the girls would start jumping roofs and climbing walls in their civilian clothes but honestly, with a fucking trained assassin looking for you, you wouldn’t put it past them. Besides, this is Gotham- everything (and anything) happens in Gotham.
A rising sense of dread started to creep inside you, clogging your throat as your spider sense buzzed into a low hum.
Catching your breath, and calming (but failing) your nerves, you start walking in another direction, opposite from where you came from. Then the ‘what-ifs’ started to pop up in your mind, consuming your thoughts.
‘What if Jacob doesn’t find you? What if he gets away, what about the kids? What if you get caught by Batman? What if you can’t do this? What if Miguel can’t locate you? What if everything you are doing is a waste of time? What if--’
A migraine started to form, making itself comfortable on your frontal lobe, throbbing, causing you to stress the fuck out and the urge to break down seems to be inevitable at this point.
But you had to focus, you needed to focus, because you have to get caught by Jacob, no matter what.
So you kept walking, with no destination, you just moved until you would find someone familiar. Chris, Jacob, or even one of the bouncers-- anyone at this point. The stress is consuming you alive, and you’re cracking, coming apart at the seams, hanging by a thread, honestly, you’re more surprised you’re keeping it just barely together.
That and the fact that you managed to grab the back of a teen’s hoodie in time before they walked right into oncoming traffic. The bus honked as they drove by while the boy almost dropped his phone.
“Whoa!” He turned to his savior as you let go and stared in the direction where the bus went, and a thought crossed your mind. Maybe, if I play my cards right…
Waving off the boy's gratitude with a smile underneath your mask, you turned to him, as he blatantly stared at your face (or what he can see). “Where can I buy my way outta town, kid?”
And with that ‘minor’ existential crisis, you decided on how to get caught.
“Oh- um, I can take you there if you’d like?”
Politely declining the offer the teen begrudgingly gave you general directions and you happily fucked off. Finding them was already not looking so hot, especially locking down a very specific hunter, so, if you’re going to be hunted (with a tight deadline), then you might as well make this easier on yourself and have them come to you. Regardless of who gets to you first, you will go with Jacob and his men.
The only way that plan goes south is if the vigilantes come before getting taken. If it’s their civilian identities then you are as good as golden.
“If they’re leaving tonight, then they need me tonight.” And what better way to get found then by waiting by an exit?
You know Jacob’s men (however many there are) are searching for you, so you made sure to walk your pretty ass to a ticket worker and asked for a ticket to (looking up and saying the first random place you read) Blüdhaven, that arrives in twenty minutes, you pay for your ticket and walk away.
Blüdhaven, a “sister” city to Gotham, a city you know nothing about except the fact that Dick Grayson, the first Robin went there to become the hero Nightwing. Whatever he did or does there, you have absolutely zero knowledge about. Not that you want to know, maybe this is better since none of the bats go there, or worse, since you don’t exactly know what kind of wack-job resides there.
Regardless, it’s not like you’re going to actually go there, it’s just a calling card to get Jacob or his men to come fetch you. Sitting down on an available bench, head tilted down, hands folded over one another, fiddling with your watch on top of your legs in faux nervousness to give a certain expression.
Every noise made, every step catalog, every sound is scrutinized in a way that keeps you vigilant despite playing off as nervous. Regardless of who catches you, you will make this work. You can not afford to mess this up. Please, please work. I need this to work.
The soft buzz you have come to accept as a norm in this universe soon turns into a static tingle. Someone’s approaching…
Your senses aren’t going haywire, so it isn’t one the birds, but you know that whoever is approaching, is here for you, and you specifically. Not making a sudden movement your hands fidget as the person places their hand on your shoulder.
“Nada.” Flinching at the sudden contact, you slowly turned to face the perpetrator. It was the guy who was chasing you a few hours before. “Let’s go.”
Sliding his hand to grab yours, he pulls you up, leading you in a hurry but not obvious distress. And you let him. For the plot.
The cameras catch your figure getting led away by another teenager into an alley. Out of sight.
-
Far, far away, a man slammed his fist on his desk as the sound echoed in the spacious room.
The distorted voice message playing in the background as he watched in real time the situation going from bad to worse.
He doesn’t know what to make of this! When this issue came to his attention it was a problem, but eventually it sort of situated itself so he left it alone, letting it play out as he watches. Seeing no need to interfere unless necessary, so he always kept an eye on it.
But it was different now. Situations change and at first, everything was- okay. Then when he noticed fluctuations, he grew worried and intervened.
He was able to stabilize the problem, not fix it. He doesn’t know if he can fix it to be honest. But it was steady, for now. He’ll make sure of it. Until one day, an incident occurred and everything went to shit.
He tried, god fucking damnit did he try. He did his absolute best to placate the issue, but it quickly spiraled. All of his interventions and attempts did fuckall. So, he watched.
That’s all he could do. Just watch as things went from bad to worse as time went on. He couldn’t do much about it, but he was trying. Trying isn’t good enough, his attempts aren’t good enough, he couldn’t be good enough to stabilize anything anymore.
So he just watched. Watch how the issue…fixed itself as time passed.
And now, the issue is no more. All his efforts, his attempts, his atonement, and now it matters not. He wonders if he could have done more. He assumed the worst honestly. The voice message is what’s keeping him sane and driving him insane.
He can’t believe this happened. He knows that it was out of his control, that what happened was out of his control, and what was in his control spiraled to absolute shit. There is nothing to control anymore.
He’s sorry.
He really is. He wants to apologize, over and over and over again. But he isn’t sure if it’s possible to be heard. Will the receiver ever receive it? What can he do now except say ‘sorry’? Even if no one will hear it. Even if it can not be forgiven, he will still apologize. He’s sincerely sorry.
So Miguel rewinds a video, watches the fluctuation and then the nothingness. He’s sorry.
In his hand, a locket. The only thing that managed to stay as itself. A reminder, a haunting one and at the same time a somber one. He’s gentle with it (it’s really precious- to him and to their owner) as he stares at the picture inside the locket. There are two photos on either side, one of the photos has two figures, but only one of the two has his undivided attention.
“Perdóname…” He’s so sorry.
In his guilt, by his lonesome, he misses a coordinate blinking on his screen before disappearing back into silence.
-
The walk was quiet. Too quiet. But that was fine, it was okay. It gave you time to think, to strategize. To comprehend what exactly you witnessed on that accursed computer.
Names. Kids names, barely adults, the youngest being preteen for fucks sake! You knew Jacob was a sleaze but not this despicable. But who are you kidding? Criminals that lack morals often are.
Yet a selfish part of you kept eating you away. There is a part of you, a big part that is going to see this through the end. Capture and detain Jacob and his crew for their crimes. Hopefully uncover those in higher up the power scale and get them convicted as well. You’d wipe your hands clean, pat yourself on the back and go on your merry way back to Spider H.Q. or even to some other spider’s dimension. Closer to home.
But the other part of you, a very small, barely noticeable but strong part of you is clawing itself into your mind and body. It wants to turn back, to walk away, to leave it to someone else to deal with. You now know that the bat is on this case, him and his birds. That should be enough right? They don’t really need you. Batman is the world’s greatest detective, only triumph by Tim- if memory serves you correctly.
They were talking sometime to figure it out, but you know they would have eventually cracked the case even if you weren’t here. Yea, this mission doesn’t really need you. It never did, the only reason things are out of wack, is because you happened to catch Jacob’s eye. You caused this to happen. It was your fault that things have derailed.
That’s why things have escalated, if not, it would have been a matter of time before the fighting ring would have been discovered, the bar infiltrated, and Jacob and co. would have been caught. Yea, they were already doing something about it before you showed up. Your job is basically over, you don’t have to do any more than this. Maybe…maybe you can really call it quits and walk away.
Just like all your problems.
You stilled, causing your arm to be yanked in vain. The boy, peeved, turns to look back at you. “We gotta move. Hurry up.”
Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you. Miguel would be disappointed in you. You are disappointed in you for almost giving in. You can literally picture Miguel’s face, and because it’s so vivid in your mind, you winced.
“Where are we going?”
“Just hurry up.” He snapped, tugging harshly.
You looked him in the eyes, really looked at him. He has blond short almost military hair, tan skin tone, and dim light brown eyes.
“Why were you following me earlier?” you didn’t budge.
“Fucking move, you bit-!”
“Who’s picking us up?” You interrupted, feet still planted on the floor, unmoving.
“You were following just fine before!” He snapped, glaring harshly as he let go. “You’re his favorite.”
“What were you promised?” Rubbing your wrist, your gaze never left his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “I told him I’m running. You were following me before. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I don’t care.”
The guy in front of you lunged and grabbed a fistful of your sweatshirt. “You arrogant son of a-” He pulled you in close, enough to notice he has spacious and sporadic freckles. “I lost so much money because of you!” He was seething. “Why the fuck would I tell you anything?”
You kept eye contact as you tilted your head. “You’re trembling. Bags under your blood shot eyes, easily agitated I assume, are you an addict?”
Your answer came with your back slamming on the alley wall. “You condescending mother fucker!” He slammed you two more times, and you let him. “You don’t know anything about me!” He screamed.
“No I don’t. But I don’t need to. You need me though.” This kid looks around your age, maybe younger, but you can tell he has been on substance use for some time. From the hair that you can see, it’s thin, he probably doesn’t hydrate enough either. “On the other hand, I don’t need you.”
From gripping your sweatshirt, he escalated to your neck, mask falling to the ground, rest in peace.
“You narcissistic asshole!” He tightened his grip. “Ever since you showed up, he started to neglect the rest of us!”
Narrowing your eyes, you placed pressure on his wrist, but not enough to hurt him. “How did you find me?”
“You whore, did you sleep with him? Is that why you get spoiled? That’s all you’ll ever be good for.”
You added pressure, he winced. “All I did was fight. How did you find me?”
“He likes you. So much so that he threw the rest of us away.” He ignored your question. “But he’ll get bored. He always gets bored. And then you’ll be thrown to the side. Like us.”
“Like us?”
He smirked, loosening his grip and shaking your hands off. “He made me like this.” He stepped back, hand clutching his head. “He’ll treat you soooo well, and then move onto the next shiny toy. But before he tosses you out, he gets you hooked on some pills.”
Your eyes widened. No…no no no. This took a turn for the worse. “Willingly?” Fists clenched at your side.
He looks at you, really looks, and scoffs. His anger resides a bit. “No.” He watched you tense up in anger. “Not obviously. He picks a favorite and then gives them this in secret. Until you get addicted. Then you just have to make him happy and he gladly hands us enough to be normal.”
Taking all this information in. It’s a blow to your conscience that’s for sure. Now you really feel guilty for thinking of running away.
It seems you wore your heart on your sleeve because this set him off.
“I don’t need your pity!” He swung at you. “This is your fault!”
Head swung to the side on impact. Nothing broken. “I’m not…” You were interrupted by him grabbing your collar again.
“He stopped giving us the pills! I’ve seen what happens when you don’t take them in time!” He readed his arm for another punch. “I’ll die! And it will be on you!” He spat venomously and swung.
Before he could punch you again, another voice interrupted him.
“Hey! Ricardo, enough! Ya basta!” A familiar voice, and a pit formed in your stomach. “If you want your dose you should do as you're told, pendejo.” the man growled and backhanded the boy.
This was a stark contrast to the tone of voice you would normally associate him with. Dennis, the second bouncer that was M.I.A. earlier, is here- in front of you.
Quickly, you latched onto his arm. “Wa-wait! It was my fault!”
Dennis halted, turned to face you and you wanted to run away. “You got hit, Nada. I just returned the favor.” He turned his body towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. “It must have hurt. Though I know you can take Christoper’s punches well, I apologize for this, it should not have happened under my watch.”
From your peripheral, you watched Ricardo stagger to his feet, blood flowing from his nose, in pain and trembling in fear. He did not make eye contact with the bouncer, or even look his way. Your heart lurched. “I’m fine… but he’s not-”
“He got what he was owed.” Both you and the boy froze. “You shouldn’t have been hurt. Period. That was his job.”
Job. Of course. You’re their ‘golden goose’, a merchandise, and merchandise loses its value if it's imperfect or damaged. Fuck, this boy is in trouble.
“It was my fault. I was responsible- He- He did nothing wrong-”
The hand that was gently placed on your injured cheek suddenly felt cold to the touch before he pulled away. He had a warm smile, but his eyes- his eyes showed no empathy.
“You did nothing wrong. He hit you, and that’s not tolerated.” You heard Ricardo whimper, and saw how quickly the man’s face changed to cold and apathetic when glancing at him.
“I made the mistake- I’m sorry-”
Dennis faced you, warm expression once more. “Don’t apologize. It was never your fault in the first place.” You felt chills.
Dennis is a big guy, big as in tall, muscular, and has the whole security vibe to him. But despite that, he always presented himself like a gentle giant. With his light brown hair, and warm blue eyes, he was very sweet with you. Right from the start too.
Was this how he always was? You wanted to throw up. He was favoring you, giving you special treatment because you are valuable. But once that value is gone, you’ll be looked at like dirt, and treated just like Ricardo who is trembling like a baby fawn.
You wanted to throw up. This is disgusting. You want out. You want out of here! This is revolting. You seriously feel like you’re going to puke from this stress. But you have to see this through till the end. You owe Ricardo that much.
He said ‘us’, meaning more are going through this right now… And more probably have gone through this as well. Recalling Ricardo’s words, he said some have died. The count? Unverified, and some won’t even be known. That’s just how dark this world, this story can be.
It may be comic books in your world, but it’s reality here. And in reality, people can die, and will die. All the time. Whether you know about it, indirectly caused it, or not know at all- people die all the time. A terrible, horrible, grotesque feeling grew inside your gut.
So you steel your nerves, or at least mask it to the best of your abilities. You decided that you’re gonna get Ricardo out of this. He can not go where you are purposely going. “I- Okay.”
Dennis smiles and ruffles your head, and it took a massive amount of restraint to not sock him then and there. Only moving his hands away. “I don’t like that.”
He stills before pulling away in understanding. “My bad.” Sounds sincere, but you don’t believe he is. He doesn’t even look at Ricardo anymore. Like he doesn’t even exist. “Let’s go. We’re on a tight schedule.”
You recall Jacob’s words. Hunting. Hunting you. This isn’t hunting, no you’re willingly walking into an enclosure. You do want to get caught just to find where the other kids are, but you aren’t going to make this easy for Jacob. No, let him earn his paycheck. And besides…
Glancing at Ricardo who’s quiet, his steps don’t make any noise, he’s shrunken into himself to avoid having a presence. Your priority changed, Ricardo has to go, just not with you.
“And Nada,” Despite Dennis’ large frame, he only turned his head to face you, a warm smile on his face. “You’ll come with me willingly, correct?”
“I told him that I would be going home.” Your response caused Ricardo to whip his head in your direction, shocked, while Dennis’ smile tightened and he stopped walking.
Ricardo, as if instinctual, grabbed onto your sleeve, hands shaking, and Dennis turned to face you. “He told me to pick you up. You don’t have a home and we can be your home. You’ll be fed and have a warm place to sleep. We can offer you stability, you would need not to struggle to live. Isn’t that nice, Nada? Just come with us. Come home with us. Choose us, Nada.”
There was silence, a measured pause before you opened your mouth. “And if I don’t want to?”
The temperature turned cold, and your senses went from light buzz to quiet static, gradually increasing.
“I am not allowed to hurt you. I can’t hurt you.” He replied. “But I don’t have to, and won’t have to hurt you.” It sounded too confident to be a lie. It was a promise.
Ricardo made himself smaller behind you, his grip tightened.
Your only response was not a verbal one. You just simply continued walking and Dennis smiled and continued leading towards the end of the alley, where he parked a white commercial construction van. Taking your time, you watched Dennis open the door and wait next to it, watching your every move.
Three steps until you reached the van, you heard someone make their presence known.
It was about fucking time.
-
Duke approached the set location both Oracle and Steph with Cass provided with.
Earlier when Duke caught a teen, one of two (that he knew of), the kid spilled on sight.
“...And they’re taking Nada.” He sobbed. Duke went rigid at the familiar name.
“Taking her? Where?” He held himself back from shaking the teen.
After getting notified that the civilian he is familiar with (‘familiar’ meant to be taken with a grain of salt) might somehow be involved in this somewhat rapidly escalating situation was starting to get him a bit antsy.
When he first located his target, a teen named Frank, the pieces slowly started coming together. Albeit rather too slowly for his convenience. But Duke sure likes a good puzzle, and he’s almost done with this one. It’s just that this civilian Nada, is a piece that he isn’t sure where exactly fits here.
“The uh- man-manager really likes Nada.” Frank gripped onto Duke, body jittery, clear exhaustion on his face. “He’s looking for her. Ah, right n-now. Um, our job is to find N-Nada.”
Duke’s expression darkened at the thought. “Where is she? Where is Nada?”
Frank swallowed his saliva, “I don- I don’t know. I swear! All I know is th-that we were told to find Nada and bring her to Christpher. B-but then the location changed and-”
“Where?” Duke stressed.
“I don’t know- but! Um,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old phone. “Here! It’s all in here. The location ch-change and updates on Nada.” Almost dropped it with his trembling hands.
With this new piece of information in his hands, he feels that much closer to finding the civilian that seems to be way too connected to this case than he would like to believe. It was getting harder and harder to keep himself in check.
“Anything else? What about you?”
Duke got to hear just how many these teens get recruited at best, and taken at worst.
They get these teens, younger ones, to convince others like them. They branch out all over Gotham, but they have gotten many of them through Park Row, mostly known now as Crime Alley. Duke knows this is one major reason why Jason has silently joined their mission.
On the other hand, those who are kidnapped are usually the upper middle class and some of the homeless. At first it was assumed they were picked at random, but quickly it was discovered those with issues, whether it be addiction, felony charges, or violent tendencies are selectively chosen. Those who figure them out are older adults, who also have issues.
In order to find rats, you send a rat.
What started as a small scale quickly turned into a regular occurrence. If Jim Gordon and some trusted other officers hadn’t caught on to the myriad of missing people’s cases, this might have gone on longer until it would have been too late.
“I- I am just a nobody. Just someone wh-who helps bring in more people.” The kid before Duke began to shed tears.
Duke zeroed in on this information. “Is that what happened to Nada? Did you or anyone else recruit her?”
This caused Frank to jump back. “What? No!” He let go of Duke as if burned. “I-I wasn’t the one who-who brought Nada in. That was the manager. He found Nada.”
Okay, now they’re getting somewhere. “When? Do you know?”
“A bit over a week ago, I think. The ma-mannager really likes Nada.” Frank rubbed his head pensively. “He always treats them kindly, sp-spoils them, and even lets them pick when and how many fights they'll fight in. He’s, um, he’s been trying to get Nada to join him.”
Duke felt his blood run cold. “Join him?”
Frank freezes, and the winces. “The manager pr-promised to take some of us with him. But ever since Nada showed up. He- he has basically abandoned us!” He began to cry, hands covering his face.
“Do you know where they are taking her?”
Frank shakes his head, sobbing.
After some more questions, and comforting this shaking teen, he relents and waves a police officer towards him. Guaranteeing Frank won’t bolt at the sight of a cop, he believed he got everything he could from this teen, and so he handed them to an officer.
He checks the phone given to him and immediately contacts Barbara. But as if the universe was working with him, she reached out to everyone about the civilian's location. About you.
“Found her! Spotted a block away from the sanctuary. Gray sweatshirt, sweatpants, black mask, turning the corner. Sending coordinates.”
With Stephanie’s reply, Duke hopped on his bike and looked through the phone he received. “I’ve got a phone, with locations and ranks. No names. Just a couple of active locations.”
“Your civilian friend was spotted near a main road, a shelter. Cass and Steph are nearby, how did things go with the kid?”
“She’s involved, and the guy brought her in. Jacob.” Dukes watched a location ping near the shelter Barbara told him about. Could this be you? Are you being tracked knowingly? Just how involved are you?
“I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. Mind sharing?”
“That guy, he said something that stuck to me. ‘He’s been trying to get Nada to join him.’ and by the tone, it seems one-sided. I’m not sure just how involved she is… Something isn’t adding up right.”
“Is that a conjecture or are your feelings-"
“I’m sure of it.” Duke sent all the information on the phone to Barbara. “And if I'm wrong, then she is still just like the others. Lost.”
After a moment of silence, she responded. “Alright. I’ll keep you updated then. It seems she managed to lose both Cass and Steph. I'll admit, she is slippery for sure. She’s being hunted, Signal. And not just by us.”
“I know.” Duke sped away. ”I’m on my way.”
-
“Hey you three!” A charismatic voice called out, making his way towards you three. “Is everything alright?”
You felt your body straighten up but did not look back. Despite the voice not sounding familiar to you, your spider sense was all the confirmation you really needed.
Dennis walked past you and Ricardo, shielding you both as inconspicuously as possible. Anyone wouldn’t have noticed the intent, but the stranger was extremely well trained, and he noticed.
Honestly speaking, he wasn’t really going to get involved (liar) completely, just assist and go on his merry way, his presence didn’t seem completely necessary. Well, that was the case- until the large guy threw hands first.
That’s something he couldn’t turn a blind eye from. Not that he ever would. Despite how tired he was, and how all he wanted to was to get home and spend time with his family, he knew this took precedence. A gut feeling. And it hit the mark this time as well.
He has been very busy lately, but he had promised to make time to visit and because he had also promised to show up for an event but something urgent called him over. And he didn’t know it could have been even worse than he anticipated. The whole timeline went out the window so quickly that it sped up progress, as well as action.
Now that he’s in town, picking up some pick-me-ups for nostalgia- his peripheral catches movement. That’s when everything clicked into place.
He quickly catalogues the threat. A man, tall, built like a bear, leading two- one absolutely petrified, and the other guarded- civilians further down an alleyway. He doesn’t hesitate, and makes his way over, calling out to the three of them.
He was a good distance away, yet can see clearly how both froze up (which isn’t suspicious in of itself), and only one turned their head back in his direction, dried blood crust from his nose. He looked like a mess really. The other still hadn’t turned around, just tensed, shoulders stiff, posture straightened but slightly curved into themselves, as if not wanting to take up space. He catalogs all this information before his eyes return to the man who adorns a warm smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
The bigger guy walked towards him, a smile that would have fooled anyone if he hadn’t blatantly witnessed this guy backhand one of the young ones. He’s glad he trusted his gut feeling.
“Everything’s alright. Sorry for disturbing you.” The bigger man spoke, stopping a few steps in front of the two others. “We’ll be on our way, you should too.”
The one who was frightened before, trembling still, but his bloodshot glare didn’t go unnoticed. “It’s no bother really. It seems that one of them has a bloody nose. I know it’s not any of my business-”
“Then walk away.” Dennis interrupts.
“I know it’s not any of my business, but I think he should really get that checked out. I can give you directions to a nearby clinic.”
Ricardo barked in protest. “I’m fine! I just fell.” His hands never slackened his grip on the sweatshirt.
“You heard the boy, this isn’t your business.” Dennis “Have a good rest of your day, sir.”
There was a moment of silence before the guy nodded. “Yes I see, I’m sorry for coming off as meddling…” Patting his pockets he pulled out his identification. “You see, I’m an officer and I was just making sure everything was all right.”
At the mention of the occupation both Dennis and Ricardo became tense, the only difference is that one was able to hide it well while the other winced, backing away (while pulling the other person).
“I assure you that everything is just fine, officer.” Dennis gave a quick glance to the badge before glancing behind him. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes. I just fell.” Ricardo repeated, pulling the other person along, towards the van. Just two more steps.
Fear. Ricardo was expressing obvious fear. At the officer? No. He hates the cops, and will always bite back. His fear is from Dennis. And he was being very obvious about it. And the officer clocked it immediately. He could work with this.
Putting his badge away he spoke calmly. “What is your relationship with them?”
“That’s very invasive officer.” Dennis’ lips strained to keep its appearance. “He said they're fine and it's getting late. I’m taking them home.”
“And I’d let you, really.” His demeanor changed. “But something isn’t adding up here. You see.”
Dennis has patience, but it is running thin right now. And he knew that. He also knows that the other civilian still hasn’t moved, as if stuck in place. They never once turned around, truly guarded. The itch is growing, and he knows there's more at play here, he knows it, he can feel it. Now, he just needs a probable cause to still keep them here. Ragebaiting is also an option.
“Officer.” Dennis’ voice strained in thin veiled annoyance, reaching inside his suit jacket. “We really are in a hurry,” Pulling out a black card, he holds it out. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call. We really must be going now. Good day.”
The officer quirked an eyebrow, but complied anyway. He made his way and reached out for the card, making a show of reading the fine print. Interesting. His ears picked up the hushed voice of one of the two civilians.
“Get on, hurry!” Ricardo whispered as he stepped on, pulling the sleeve of the other. He glances at the guy.
“Quit it, I’m going!” A softer, androgynous- but leaning more towards feminine- voice replied, equally low, but his ears caught it all the same.
“I need to see some IDs.” He puts the card inside his jacket, a smile once again on his face when he notices the eyebrow furrow in annoyance from the big guy.
“Oh what basis?”
“The guy over there is sweating, his body is trembling despite it being about 65 degrees out, blood shot eyes, and was bleeding from his nose that I saw you hit him earlier, by the way. The ‘I fell’ excuse didn’t work on me, and,” The officer made sure the big guy didn’t try anything, and if he did, he’s already ready for it. “He seems to be going through some withdrawals. I’m just trying to make sure everything is okay. Like I said before, I need to see some IDs.”
“Ricardo, can you drive?” Dennis pulls out his wallet and with it an ID, showing it to the officer.
Said boy flinched, as if the attention towards him physically hurt. “Um- no sir.”
“Then figure it out and go.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let any of you walk out. Your ID is fake, Dennis Mayson. Now I really can’t let any of you walk away. Not to mention your friend over there hasn’t turned around once since I called out.”
Dennis’ warmth smile completely dissipated. “Go, Ricardo.” He pulled out a knife from his suit, aiming it at the officer. “Even if you’re late, get Nada to the location. Go.”
Well this took an interesting turn. The officer couldn’t help but watch the scene unfold pretty dramatically. Well, everything can happen in Gotham. In the blink of an eye, he lunged just as the big guy did.
A big swing and he side-stepped before grabbing the arm and pulling. The guy dropped the knife and caught it with the other hand and swung.
He jumped back, releasing his hold. “Sorry to inform you, but you’re under arrest for attacking a police officer.”
While the skirmish started, he noticed from the corner of his eye the male dubbed Ricardo pulled the girl out of the van. Now he was able to catch a glimpse of the other party member.
His eyes immediately locked onto hers and noticed how she stiffened up. Eyes, worn down and tired, frame is light, hair somewhat of a mess, body posture showing signs of anxiousness and stress, but what captivated him most, was her face.
In that moment of distraction, he snapped back to reality in time to avoid a strike to the face. A sharp sting followed by droplets of blood appeared on the left side of his cheek. Well, he mostly avoided a strike to the face…
“Ricardo, GO!” Dennis stressed, swinging.
The officer dodged as both the civilians started making their way out of the alleyway opposite from his position. He didn’t really mind perse, he will end this fight once they’re out of sight and then find them. He’s confident he can find them.
After all, he was trained by the world's greatest detective.
-
Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson.
That’s who you made eye contact with when Ricardo pulled you out of the van. Because why the fuck not. You can’t have peace for a god damn fucking day.
You watched how his eyes zoned in on you immediately, watching, noting, examining you like one would examine something with interest. You shuddered.
You recalled reading that Dick was going to come back to Gotham but why did it have to be today of all days? You’re seriously about to lose it. Honestly.
“Hurry up! Let’s go Nada!” Ricardo shoves in urgency.
“I’m going! I’m going!” Just as you both were about to turn the corner, an engine rev could be heard coming from the direction you both are heading.
Around the corner a very familiar yellow motorcycle came into view, blocking your path. You noticed through their helmet that they were focused solely on you. “It’s you.” They way he said those words, soft and almost in relief.
Eh? What the fuck is happeneing. You knew you were getting hunted, especially by Jacob and co. but to be caught this soon by the birds is honestly going to be your thirteenth reason.
“Oh shit. A suit!” Ricardo pulled you behind him. Things were going south real quick.
Duke got off his bike, hands in the air to show no weapons, and not hostile intent. His (covered) eyes never leave your frame. “I’m not here to hurt any of you. You’re being hunted.”
You think? Your eyes narrowed in anger. You already know that! That’s why you’re stressed the fuck out!
Duke takes your facial expression as hostile and fearful. Before he can say anything else, a loud grunt is echoed through the alley and he notices a fight between Dick in his civilian (detective?) clothes, and one of Jacob’s members. Oh shit.
Ricardo bolts, harshly yanking your sleeve to run past the van causing both Dick and Duke to snap their attention on you. “Signal, switch!”
Duke wanted to protest, but now that he has found where you are, he’ll respect Dick’s decision and switch his attention towards the bouncer.
Dick on the other hand swerves around him and runs towards where the two civilians headed.
Dick notices that they are fast- or more accurately you are the one who’s agile. He watches them run towards the crowd, trying to lose him but once again, he’s trained, and he can easily spot them.
He estimates catching up to them in less than five minutes. Well, at least he will get some of his steps in early. His mind plays back to what he witnessed before the chase.
It seems like Duke wasn’t just patrolling, he was tailing. And you seem to be his objective.
You both ignore Dick as he calls out for you to stop. Yea- no, who even listens to cops anyways? Though, despite the head start you both acquired earlier, it seems that he would catch up real quick. You’re confident in yourself to easily maneuver around, but Ricardo on the other hand is not as agile as you. And he’s slowing down by the second.
“Where are we supposed to go?!” You press.
“I don’t know!” He huffs, out of breath. “I was just told to take you to him!” The bouncer.
“Great, so we’re both fucked.” You yank him when he almost trips.
“You bitch!” He hisses. “All I know is that we needed to find y-you!”
There was no way you were going to get caught by Dick Grayson or Signal, or any of the bat co. as a matter of fact.
And now Ricardo is starting to wheeze in exhaustion. You are compromised. And your spider-senses went haywire.
“Stop right there!” A hand grabbed the back of your sweatshirt, halting you with ease and in turn, stopping Ricardo in his tracks. “Gotcha!”
You stopped yourself from socking him in the gut.
Ricardo, on the other hand, pulled out a switchblade. This bought you enough time to forgo your sweatshirt, leaving you only with a tank top. “Just run Nada!”
Dick easily subdued Ricardo, his eyes watching how you didn’t even hesitate or look back as you booked it. Crossing the streets as the light turned green once you were on the other side.
He watches you glance back and disappear into the crowd.
Guess he’ll have to suit up and discuss what just happened with his family.
Being a vigilante is a stressful 24/7 job.
Prev; Next;
Yay Dick finally made an apperance. I almost forgot about him lowkey.
If you find any inconsistencies- no you don't lolol. I also didn't mean to take that long for the chapter-- oops. Poor mc can't catch a fucking break- yikes.
Stephanie and Cassandra will get more screen time soon.
Arc I is more centered in mc's life trying to get home. Arc II is more centered around her relationships with the others. That's why I'm trying to speed run this arc lolol. I'm almost there- trust, I will get there I swear.
Web Bound Secret Corner!
Spider-Woman helped fix things inside the bar enough times that Jacob started calling her "Tink"
Spider-Woman's was going to find a way to get Ricardo captured first so he can get treatment for his withdrawals but he did the job himself.
Spider-Woman isn't like the other spiders, though some things do overlap.
Spider-Woman's date of birth is January 1st.
Spider-Woman's spider sense causes her to be paranoid at all times, thus causing sleep deprivation.
Spider-Woman fears Batman, Jason, Cassandra in that order.
1k follower event || masterlist || based on this request
Cass notices immediately that you only smile for her. The first time it happens - a small, soft curve of your lips when she brings you coffee exactly how you like it - she freezes, then smiles back like the sun just came out. She starts collecting those smiles like treasures.
She learns your silence isn’t coldness. It’s safety. When the world is too loud, she sits with you in comfortable quiet, shoulder to shoulder, until you relax. No pressure to speak. Just presence.
Cass is tactile with you in ways she isn’t with anyone else. Gentle touches — a hand on your lower back when walking through crowds, fingers brushing yours when passing something, forehead resting against yours when words fail. Each one says “I see you.”
She starts leaving tiny gifts in your pockets or on your desk: a perfectly folded origami crane, a smooth stone she found on patrol, a note that just says “you make the quiet feel safe.” She never signs them, but you know it’s her.
When you have a bad day and your face is its usual blank mask, Cass doesn’t push. She just curls up beside you on the couch, head in your lap, and lets you run your fingers through her hair until the tension eases. Sometimes she falls asleep like that, trusting you completely.
She learns your favorite foods without asking. One night she shows up with takeout from the tiny ramen place you mentioned once in passing. When you smile — small but real — she looks proud enough to light up the whole city.
Cass is fiercely protective. If someone talks over you or makes you uncomfortable, she steps in quietly but firmly, placing herself between you and them. No words needed. Her presence alone says “mine.”
She starts practicing smiling in the mirror when she thinks you’re not looking — trying to match the one you give her. When you catch her and laugh softly, she blushes but keeps trying. She wants to give you the same warmth you give her.
On quiet nights, she teaches you basic self-defense moves, but makes it gentle and fun. Her hands on your waist, guiding your stance, voice soft as she corrects your form. Every touch lingers a second longer than necessary.
She notices when you’re overstimulated and quietly removes you from the situation — a hand on your elbow, leading you to a quieter corner or outside for fresh air. No questions. Just understanding.
Cass starts collecting things that remind her of you: a smooth black stone, a pressed flower, a page from a book with a line that made her think of your quiet strength. She keeps them in a small box under her bed.
When you finally say “I love you” — quiet, almost hesitant — she doesn’t respond with words. She just pulls you into the tightest hug, face buried in your neck, holding you like you’re the only safe thing in her chaotic world. You feel her smile against your skin.
She learns your love language is acts of service and starts doing little things without being asked: making your tea exactly right, folding your laundry, leaving the lights dim when you come home tired. Each one is her way of saying “I see you. I care.”
Cass is surprisingly playful with you. She’ll sneak up behind you just to wrap her arms around your waist and rest her chin on your shoulder, or challenge you to silly contests like who can balance a spoon on their nose longer. Your rare laugh is her favorite sound.
At the end of every day, no matter how hard it was, she curls up against you in bed and whispers, “You make the world softer.” And when you smile — just for her — she falls in love with you all over again.
a/n : this was so cute to write but formatting almost killed me 🥀
Pairing: Batfam/chemist!reader (platonic), Unknown/chemist!reader (romantic) (i am not saying unknown to be mysterious, i am saying unknown because i have not decided)
Wordcount: 1,3k
Summary: Awoken and rested, you meet Tim's sister and see a weird kid
Masterlist / Prequel / Part I / Part II / Part IV
When you wake up again, you don’t know what time it is.
You make a point not to have a clock that gives light, it wakes you up too easily. You reach around for your phone…
…it is in your lab coat in your hallway, uncharged. Shit.
The blinds are closed, the room is nearly pitch black, yet you orient yourself by touch until you find the small lamp on your nightstand.
The light nearly blinds you. A minute later, you stand up, hobbling like a zombie, towards the hallway.
You spot the lighter blob in the darkness, your lab coat. You know which pocket the phone is in, and yet you always reach for the wrong one first by accident.
The phone doesn’t even turn on. Dead.
“Fuck,” you swear softly into the silence of the apartment.
By the time you find your charger, you feel mentally ready to open the blinds and find out if you have slept through the whole day again.
The answer is, unsurprisingly, yes.
It’s a classic, Gotham night outside. Your apartment is far enough off the ground that you can see the sky and the clouds.
And the massive light, shaped in the symbol of a bat, coming from above the GCPD.
Yesterday’s (today’s?) escapades fly through your mind.
Another thing to take care of.
While your phone still regains a little bit of life, you decide to ignore the inevitable issues coming by taking thirty minutes for yourself.
A shower, some coffee, a fresh change of clothes.
You turn on your phone and wait for it to boot up. In the meantime, you open the fridge to find… a bottle of ketchup, a can of blue redbull, and a glass container of kimchi.
You look at your phone and debate which grocery store is the closest.
And then you look at the time.
10PM. Shit.
As notifications start coming in, you notice there has been no contact from Tim’s app. It looks like he is either sleeping, or he has respected your word and waits for you to call him.
You put your fingerprint on the phone and scan your face to open the app. In hindsight, now you see why he gave you these security measures, if he truly is Red Robin.
WWhite: Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne
You smirk to yourself. Using his full government name as a power-play seems funny, even though you know he probably knows yours as well.
WWhite: I have woken up. Had stellar, dreamless 8 hours of sleep.
WWhite: What the fuck do I do now?
You put the phone down on the kitchen counter and go back to the hallway to rummage in your backpack. You find a stray protein bar (useful when you get hungry in a lab) (and also useful now).
While munching, you start charging your laptop to look over the data from yesterday, but you pause before you even open the file.
Should you? This is classified information from fucking Batman. You don’t even know if you’re gonna be “working for him” in the future at all.
Shit, if Tim “fires” you from being his personal analyst, you will have to give him back all of the expensive machines you use for said analysis. You won’t even have money for the lab apartment anymore, because most of the money you make comes from the daily analyses you make for… the entire bat entourage.
Before you can spiral even further into worst-case scenarios, your phone starts ringing.
Unknown number? You wouldn't put it past Tim or Bruce to somehow find your phone number.
You pick up, somehow unsurprised by the voice on the other end.
“How soon can you be picked up?” Tim, sounding less tired than before he left this apartment. Dick did actually make good on his word and made him go to sleep.
“If I can charge my phone and laptop at your…” you struggle to find the word “mansion, right now.”
—
The waiting takes all of ten minutes. Which is weird, because you distinctly remember the way from the manor to your flat taking longer this morning.
You try to blame that discrepancy on your delirium and not on the fact that Tim drives like an insane person.
This time, you are allowed in the passenger seat, but you kinda wish you were in the back.
By the time you get out of the car at the mansion, you are very glad you did not have a big breakfast. “Next time, let ANYONE ELSE drive. Jesus Christ Tim!”
Tim pouts. “But I wanted to pick my friend up.”
You scoff. “You don’t even know if your dad will allow us to STAY friends.”
“Okay, point one, it doesn’t matter what Bruce tells me to do, I will still be your friend. You are funny and I enjoy talking to you even outside of asking you to do analysis,” he says. You are slightly touched, if he did not go on to ruin it in the next sentence.
“And point two, I have done a second check of your background, showed Bruce the results, and he agrees that you are not dangerous.”
“I could be dangerous.”
Tim barks out a laugh. “Throwing a can of cola at a mugger? Nope.”
The door to the mansion automatically opens on a mechanism. You suspect there was a scanner somewhere on the massive porch, a scanner that read Tim’s presence and let you both in.
In the entrance hall, before you even take off your shoes, you are stopped dead by a pair of piercing, dark brown eyes.
The woman in front of you is built slimmer than Tim, but commands a presence of someone who knows how to incapacitate you with one hand without spilling a single drop of coffee they are holding with the other.
You feel studied under her gaze. Like she sees into your soul and reads everything about you in seconds.
You stare at each other for a hot minute, before Tim breaks the silence. “Hi Cass.”
The woman, Cass, glances over and nods at Tim. She is dressed for going out, casual clothes and a jacket.
You expect her to say hi back, but instead Cass signs something to Tim with a raised eyebrow. You look at him, waiting for him to explain, but he avoids eye contact and signs something back.
Ah, a mode of communication that you don’t understand. Real mature.
Cass looks you in the eyes again and nods at you, then walks around you to get to her shoes and leave the house. Tim tugs you along, out of the hall and into the next room.
“Good talk,” you sarcastically say to the girl with your back to her and follow Tim.
“Don’t worry, she approves of you. She’s not deaf, she just doesn’t talk,” he reassures you.
“How do you know she approves of me?”
“She said so. You don’t speak ASL, do you?” he asks. You shake your head.
Tim waves his hand dismissively. “If she didn’t approve, she would be much more hostile. This was practically a glowing review.”
You let out a puff of air and as you walk by the kitchen, you see a small, spiky-haired child sitting next to the kitchen island. His eyes are an unnerving green colour and seem to faintly glow. It kinda makes your skin crawl.
As soon as you step out of the view in the hallway, you shudder openly.
Tim, probably not noticing your momentary heebie jeebies, points down the hallway. “C’mon, Bruce and Duke will be in the Batcave.”
Warnings: None, it's pretty fluffy - Kinda proofread, did it right after finishing so might have missed stuff // // Part of the 𝐖𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 (…𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?) series, which means it's fem!reader (use of she/her). Not necessarily afab!
Morph's thoughs: We did it everyone, we completed this blog's first event whoop whoop. Honestly was a bit scared starting it, but I'm pretty happy with how all of them came out. It's also my first time actually writing for the dc women (i usually just read lol) so I'm hoping to slowly get a better hang on their personalities!! Thank you for following along <3
Fuck the city and fuck it's shitty weather. To no one's surprise Gotham had woken up under a thick cover of murky clouds that prevented any real sunlight from reaching the streets below. Thunder cracking loudly every few minutes as a promise —or rather a looming warning— of what was to come.
Expecting that to be the case, and given that any forecast predicted nothing but rain for the next few days, you'd prepared yourself to head out for a grocery run. Boots with a bit of platform to avoid getting your jeans soaked on puddles, a thick hoodie under a comfortable coat and most importantly, a big umbrella.
It had proven effective, not a single drop of rain having landed on you as you zigzagged between other pedestrians, reaching the grocery store with a bit of haste to your step as to not push your luck too much.
Really, it had been a quick run, just a few pantry and bathroom essentials you needed to stock up on, the missing ingredients for today's dinner and just a couple sweet treats as a reward for making the trip in such conditions. Half an hour tops, and you were back outside, hurriedly crossing the street, getting to the other side just before the light turned red.
You should've known that things would go askew then, when a gust of wind made your umbrella tumble forward, almost leaving your hair and back out to be drenched in water. Adjusting the grip on your grocery bags, you'd pulled it tighter to your chest, walking as close to the buildings in hopes of getting some protection.
The technique worked for a few minutes, but when you were so close to getting home, just having to go across the avenue and— Lightning blazes across the sky and, as if prompted by it, another gust of wind strikes against you, ripping the umbrella clean out of your grip.
Your surprised squeal and effort to run after it prove useless, the fabric getting caught in a branch and ripping on it's way down thanks to the pull of gravity. Muttering a few expletives under your breath you grab the wire structure, shoving it down into the nearest trashcan, making sure to take out some of your frustrations while you're at it.
Ready to make the rest of your walk home and resigned to get drenched on the pouring rain, you turn back the way you were heading. New issue is —and you discover this a few seconds too late— the flimsy paper bags your groceries are contained in don't seem to mesh too well with the constant water hitting your form. Before there's any real chance for you to react, one of the bags rips, soggy paper giving under the weight of a shampoo bottle and a bag of frozen peas.
When the fact finally processes, you just deflate and give in, not caring about the water that soaks up around you knees while you crouch down and gather all the fallen products, trying to tuck them safely in the remaining bags that you hope will hold.
Another bag starts to give in, and you're about ready to cry as you clutch at it, looking up to see your building's front door just at the end of the street. Maybe if you do a dash for it, run as fast as you can and hope that none of the too-expensive avocados you got will fall out—
It's like an angel has just parted the dark sky and landed in front of you. Like a miracle happened, water stopping it's incessant fall on your now loose and damp hair and ruined clothes, instead pitter-pattering on the umbrella being held above you. A soft —perhaps a little pitiful too, but you really don't want to think of that right now— smile greeting you when you finally look up.
"Looked like you needed a hand." She does offer it, then, helping you get back on your fit and get as good of a hold on your loose groceries as possible.
"Thank you…" A mirroring smile forms on your lips when she fills in with her name. "Right, well Cass. Thank you for the help. I think these bags hate me."
Your smile just brightens when a quiet little laugh leaves her, eyes scanning every bit of her face when her free hand adjusts to move a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you going far? I could walk you there, or get you an umbrella from somewhere."
She's already looking around, trying to spot any convenience store or similar place where she'd could get you one. Her eyes focus back on you just in time to see you shake your head.
"It's fine, I'm going down the street. Number 13." You point towards your building and before you can say anything else she's nodding, adjusting so her shoulder is pressed to yours and escorting you in that direction. "Really, you don't have to—"
An amused little huff leaves through her nose, and she raises her brows a bit, almost in challenge. "No big deal, it'll be like two minutes."
You give in, instead falling into a surprisingly comfortable bout of small talk where you ask if she's also headed home and she tells you about the friend she's meeting at a nearby café. Cass lingers around even when you're both sheltered in your apartment complex's entrance.
"I know you have to leave now," you say a bit nervously when there's a lull on the casual conversation, "but i was wondering if… well, maybe you wanted to get a drink together sometime? I know a nice spot not too far— Oh, and you could show me that cool café, so…"
There it is again, that soft little laugh, so quiet yet so powerful, making it feel like the sun is finally shinning through the gloomy day. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good… Friday, 5pm? I'll meet you here if you want?"
A subtle yet relieved sigh leaves you and you nod along to her words. "Friday it is. Let it be my treat, okay? As a thank you."
She smiles back at you, already heading towards the door. Pushing it open, the rush of cold air finding the two of you again, she looks at you one last time. "Alright. Don't think I could refuse a girl as beautiful as you anyway."
With that, she just gives a light wave and leaves. Almost like she doesn't realise the explosion of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, along with the sunshine that seems to cascade straight over you at the casual compliment.
“One block to the East, Robin.” Barbara, Oracle, says into her headset. “GCPD is inbound, but you’ll beat them by 6 minutes.” You listen, staring at the curly red ponytail hanging over the edge of her chair. You wiggle your jaw slightly, stretching it around the ball gag in your mouth. But you’re careful not to make any sound.
Barbara would have your head if any of your noises were heard over one of her communicators. It’s why ‘speak only when spoken to’ is her top rule when she’s using you. It’s not easy to stay quiet in your position. You’re on your knees on the cold hardwood floor, and your wrists are handcuffed behind your back. That’s not even to mention the dildo stuffed inside you. You’re supposed to be riding the dildo stuck to the floor underneath you, but your legs got tired, and she’s too busy to notice you’re resting.
Her fingers fly over her keyboards as she directs superhero traffic all throughout Gotham, and from what you’ve heard, a few other missions around the globe. She hums softly to herself as she cuts off her comms with Robin and shifts her focus. She taps for a few minutes while she hums. Your position at her side lets you have a good view of her screens, and you watch the maps and security cameras, despite having little idea what’s actually going on.
She suddenly pauses, fingers freezing over her keys. She cocks her head and sighs. “Did I say you could stop?” It takes you a moment to realize she’s talking to you. It’s only once she turns to you with a raised eyebrow that you focus your attention fully on her. You whine softly around the ball gag.
“Did I say you could stop?” Barbara repeats slowly. ‘Speak only when spoken to’ also means when you’re spoken to, she expects a response, even if it’s not verbal. You shake your head softly. “That’s what I thought, so why did you?” You shrug weakly. Barbara narrows her eyes behind her glasses.
“Do you need help?” You’ve heard those words before; you were sore for days after enduring her form of ‘help’ last time. You shake your head vigorously side to side before moving your hips. You slowly bounce up and down while maintaining eye contact. “That’s what I thought,” Barbara tuts and looks back at her screens, leaving you to keep riding the dildo without her observation.
You whimper softly as you lose her eye contact. Barbara sighs and starts to turn back towards you, but turns back to her screen instead. She taps her headset, your cue to be silent. “What’s wrong, Batgirl?” You sit up straighter. Is Cassandra or Stephanie in trouble?
The next few minutes, you sit in rapt silence as Barbara guides Stephanie, and you deduce from how long the pauses are in between Barbara’s talking, through a car chase. You watch and listen carefully until Barbara signs off. She sighs and rubs her eyes under her glasses. You don’t want to interrupt her calming breathing, but you hadn’t had a good enough idea of how things ended with Stephanie.
You grunt softly around the gag. “She’s alright,” Barbara reassures without turning to look at you. “She had it handled on her own, but Robin stepped in anyway.” Uh oh. “She didn’t seem happy about it, though, so expect her to put you to use when she gets back.”
She doesn’t comment on you stopping again right away; she understands you wanted to know what was happening with Stephanie and gives you a minute to calm your anxiousness. When you’ve both had a minute, she turns back towards you and fixes her glasses. “But it’s not Stephanie’s turn yet. It’s mine, so keep going on that cock. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll give you the wand too.”
She ends up using the wand for punishment instead. It’s not your fault. How does she expect you to focus on riding the fake cock when everything she’s doing is distracting? After the third time she has to remind you to keep going, she gets up and straps a Hitachi wand to you with a belt.
The low buzzing doesn’t seem to bother her at all, nor do your moans and whines as you cum repeatedly as the wand buzzes on your clit. Your legs are too weak to move, so you just sit on your knees with the dildo stuffed inside you. You can’t focus on the time shown on her screens enough to know how much time passes, but it feels like an eternity before Barbara pushes her chair back and spins it towards you.
“My my.” She raises her eyebrows as she looks between your legs. “You’ve made quite the mess on my floor.” You pout around the gag and whimper loudly. You desperately want her to take the vibrator away. Your clit aches with overstimulation, and you haven’t had any reprieve since she turned on the vibrator. “What?” She finally reaches around your head with both hands and unclasps the gag.
You stretch your jaw and swallow the pool of drool in your mouth. When your mouth is loose enough, you manage to speak. “Please turn it off.” You say softly, panting.
“Hmm.” She hums as if deep in thought and sets the gag on the table beside her. “I don’t know, I’m kind of enjoying watching you squirm.” You pout until she sighs and reaches down and clicks the vibrator off. You slump on your knees. “You’re so good at keeping me company, but I can’t wear you out too much, I know Steph’s itching to get her hands on you.”
“Thank you.” You mumble as she reaches behind you and unhooks the cuffs pinning your arms behind your back.
“Clean up your mess before you go.” Barbara points at the floor as you shift back off the dildo. You start to reach up for a rag, but she tuts and holds her hand out. “Did I say use a rag? Use your tongue.” She orders and watches in rapt silence as you lower yourself back down.
“Do I have to? Your face burns as you hover your face above the puddle of your wetness on the floor.
“Are you questioning me?” Barbara narrows her eyes at your hesitation. You shake your head quickly at the challenge and stick your tongue out, lapping it across the floor. “There you go.” She watches carefully as you lick your tongue across the floor, cringing softly at the taste of yourself.
“Every drop.” She hums as you swipe your tongue over the smooth floor, collecting every trace of your mess onto your tongue. You clean around the dildo suctioned to the floor until Barbara intervenes. “The toy too.” You suppress a roll of your eyes, she doesn’t respond well to that, and reposition.
You wrap your lips around the fake cock and bob your head down slowly. You suck off the dildo as she watches. “Deeper.” She mutters. You take a deep breath before pushing your head down further, taking the dildo to the back of your throat. You gag as your lips touch the base and suck as you lift your head back up.
You bob up and down a few more times, pushing to the bottom until you gag every time. “That’s enough.” She says after you pause to catch your breath. “We’re going to work on your throat training more. But Stephanie’s on her way home now, and she demanded your services.”
You wipe the drool off your mouth as you sit up. She helps you up, letting you brace your hand on her shoulder as you stumble up on shaky legs. “Should I wait here?”
“No, go wait in her room, I’ll send her your way.” She grabs your arm as you turn to lean and yanks you back. “Forgetting something?” She cups your jaw, pulling you forward to kiss you deeply. She pulls back after a few moments.
“Go.” She pats your bare ass as you walk away and laughs softly at the way you jump. She turns back to her screens as you walk through the long hallway and the secret door into the main apartment. You’ve long since gotten over your shyness about walking around the house naked; you’re only really allowed to wear clothes when you leave the house. At Barbara’s direction, you make your way to Stephanie’s room to wait for her return.
You don’t have to wait long. She stomps through the house and slams her bedroom door behind her. “Who said you could be on my bed?” She snaps as she yanks her boots off and throws them on the ground by her door. You sit up on her bedspread as she enters and starts stripping off her costume. She tosses her belt and mask onto her desk chair and starts unhooking her suit in the middle.
Technically, Barbara had said to wait in Stephanie’s room, and you weren’t about to throw her under the bus. Stephanie would sooner march right to Barbara’s headquarters and ask her than believe you. “No one.” You mumble softly and slide onto your knees on her rug.
“That’s what I thought.” She smirks as she pulls her suit top up, revealing a tight black sports bra.
“I’m sorry.” You don’t hide the way your eyes roam over her toned stomach and breasts.
“Disappointing.” She walks over as she works on the waistband of her pants. “When did you get so bold, hm? You think you deserve to be up on the bed? To be treated like a person?” You drop your eyes to the floor. It surprised you at first, how mean Stephanie can be. It took some getting used to and was polarizing to see how sweet she can be when you make her happy.
“I asked you a question.” Her hand grabs your jaw, painted nails biting into your cheek as she forces your head up to look at her. “You think you deserve to be treated like a person?”
“No.” You mumble softly.
“That’s right, because what are you?” She bends down, putting her face inches from yours. You gaze up into her bright blue eyes. Stephanie has called you a lot of names, and you rack your brain trying to find one degradation enough to debase yourself properly for her.
“I’m just a whore for you to use.” You supply after a few moments.
She hums and kisses the tip of your nose. “My sweet little slut. Go warm up the shower for me.” You hop up as she releases you and make your way into her attached bathroom. You turn on the water to hot and wait until the shower door is steamed up to climb inside.
“Scoot.” Stephanie shoves you out from under the water and against the cold tile wall. You shiver in the cold as Stephanie hogs the water, sighing as the hot water runs over her body. Your eyes follow the droplets down her bare skin, roaming over the swell of her chest down to her muscular thighs. There’s a fresh bruise on her hip, and you reach out to brush your fingers against it.
“You’re hurt.” You run your fingers, feeling a slight swelling under your fingertips.
Stephanie moves fast, grabbing your wrist and slamming it against the wall beside your head. “Did I say you could touch me?” She pins you to the wall and growls in your face. “Or do you just want to baby me like everyone else?”
You shake your head quickly side to side. The tile under your back is freezing, and you arch into Stephanie’s nude form to combat the goosebumps covering your body. “Then what do you think you’re doing?” She grabs your other wrist as you instinctively reach for her and pins that on the other side of your head.
“Nothing. I was just-” Stephanie cuts you off by smashing her lips to yours. She slides her leg between yours, grinding her thigh against your core. You moan into her mouth, and she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue against yours.
“Just what?” She mumbles against your lips. “You don’t need to think. Just obey.” Stephanie tilts her head, attaching her lips to your neck. She kisses and nips her way down your neck as she grinds her thigh up against you. “Ride me.” She grunts and bites your neck harder, only releasing when you whine softly and start moving your hips back and forth.
You wince, still overstimulated from Barbara’s torture earlier, but you’re not about to ask her to stop. Last time you asked Stephanie to slow down when she was in a mood like this, she made you cum till you passed out. Instead, you comply, slowly riding her thigh as she marks up your neck.
“Stephanie…” You moan softly as she nips your collarbone. You arch into her touch, pleasure surging through you.
“Oh, I know. Not thinking so much now, are you?” She mutters. “Not a thought in that little brain of yours.”
You bite your lip as you feel your orgasm approaching. You press yourself down harder against her thigh, grinding against it feverishly. “Something you want to ask me?” Stephanie growls as she leans up to glare at you.
“Can I cum?” You moan softly.
“No.” She grunts and pulls her thigh away. You whine as your pleasure fades away. “Go get my strap and don’t you dare drip on my floor.” You huff as you slip out of the shower, quickly towelling yourself dry enough to walk through her room without water dripping off your skin. You grab her thick purple strap-on and hurry back to the shower.
She practically snatches the double-sided strap from your hands and fastens the straps around her hips. “Bend over.” She doesn’t even wait for you to move, just grabs your shoulder and hip and forcibly folds you over. You grab the shower wall for support as she releases your shoulder. She was nice enough to position your lower half in the water with her, so you wouldn't freeze.
She angles your hips so the water doesn’t wash away your wetness and rubs the tip of the strap through your folds. She slams her hips forward, ramming her strap all the way inside you without warning. You yelp and reach behind you with one hand to push against her abs. “Don’t you dare.” She grabs your wrist and holds your hand away as she pulls back and slams forward again.
“You just take what you’re given.” She grunts as she starts fucking you roughly. She drops your wrist and grabs both your hips, holding you in place for her hard thrusts. You put both hands on the tile to keep from falling over and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to just take it. “There you go.” Stephanie praises. “Take it like the whore you are.”
All of her frustration gets pounded into you. The sound of her wet skin slapping into yours echoes around the shower. You don’t know how much time passes before she moans. “Gonna make me cum. You’re gonna cum, too.”
It’s not a request, and she reaches between your legs to press roughly against your already overstimulated clit. “It hurts.” You whine softly as you try to squirm away from her fingers.
“I don’t care. When I want you to cum, you’ll cum.” She slams her hips forward repeatedly, bringing you quickly to the edge of orgasm.
“Gonna cum.” You moan as your stomach tightens.
“Yeah, cum with me.” She grunts and ruts into you, grinding the other end of the strap against her clit. Your legs shake as you cum. Stephanie moans behind you as her orgasm follows yours quickly. You rock your hips back against hers, riding out your high together. Your pleasure fades faster, overstimulation making you try to squirm away.
“Where are you going?” Stephanie mumbles and yanks you upright, pushing you against the cold shower wall. Her body shudders as she stills. “Mmm, so good for me, baby.” She kisses the back of your neck. “Feels so good.” She slowly starts moving her hips again, softly fucking into you against the tile wall.
You wiggle a bit, but Stephanie keeps you pinned to the wall. “Let me cum in you one more time, baby. I know it hurts, but I’ll be gentle.” She keeps true to her word, rocking her hips into yours gently until she cums again. She grinds against you, moaning against the back of your neck as she cums on the other side of the strap.
“So good.” She kisses the back of your neck again and slowly pulls the strap out of you. “Mmm.” She flips you around and kisses you again, gentler than earlier. She pulls away after a moment and presses her forehead against yours. “Cass said she wants you in her room tonight.” She kisses you again before stepping back and unfastening the strap.
“Almost out of hot water, and I need to actually shower now.” She pulls you forward under the water. “But don’t worry, we can share. I’ll wash your back if you wash mine.” She smirks and kisses you again under the water before grabbing a washcloth and getting to work.
After your shower with Stephanie, in which she only coaxes one more orgasm out of each of you, you make your way to Cassandra’s room. She’s out on patrol, so you make yourself comfortable in her bed; you know she won’t care. Eventually, you fall asleep.
You wake up later to pressure on top of you. Your eyes flutter in the dark room. There’s just enough moonlight to see Cass’s face in the dark. She’s whimpering softly as she bounces up and down in your lap. You grow more awake, slowly becoming more aware. You feel the strap attached firmly around your hips. Only Cass could have managed to get you completely strapped on without waking you up.
“What time izzut?” You mumble and rub your eyes.
“5.” She says softly and sits down, burying your cock inside her and grinding down against you.
“AM? Did you just get-” She cuts you off with a finger to the lips.
“Quiet.” Cassandra murmurs and clamps her hand over your mouth as she keeps moving her hips against you. “Just fuck me.” She shifts her hand to your bare chest when you start moving your hips up into her, thrusting your cock in and out of her pussy. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”
You’re still sore and sensitive from the night you’re not going to deny her. You dig your heels into her mattress and use the leverage to fuck up into her. “There you go.” She closes her eyes, lost in her pleasure as your hips slap together. You watch her, pale skin glowing in the moonlight. Her small breasts bounce with every thrust of her hips.
She grabs one of your wrists and drags your hand between her legs. Cassandra presses your fingers down on her clit, a silent order for you to please her. You rub your fingers against her clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. She groans on top of you in pleasure. You don’t know how long she’s been at it while you slept, but there’s a considerable amount of wetness on the lower half of your stomach.
Every bounce of her hips against yours makes the strap rub your sensitive clit. After only a few minutes, it’s too much stimulation, and you try to squirm away. Cassandra fastened the straps tight, though, and you can’t get away from it. “Stop it.” Her short nails dig into your chest, and she firmly presses her hips down, pinning yours to the mattress.
“Cass, I’m sore.” You plead. “It hurts.” Her eyes flash open, and she stares down at you. You pout at her serious expression.
“Make me cum fast.” She huffs and starts moving her hips again. You grimace but know there’s no getting out of it, so you move your hips up to meet hers. The room fills with the sound of your hips slapping together and your soft mewls of pain. Cassandra is mostly quiet except for the occasional soft grunt or groan of pleasure.
You continue rubbing her clit gently until she groans louder than before. “Just like that.” She presses her fingers harder over your own on her bundle of nerves. She guides you to rub in the way that will bring her the most pleasure. “So close.” She whimpers as she grinds her hips back and forth atop you.
“So good.” Cass moans as she cums. Her hips jerk weakly against yours, riding out her high as she orgasms. You continue fucking up into her cunt, trying to help her waves of arousal. She continues meeting your thrusts until she stills, hips twitching as she comes down. “Feel good?” She rolls her hips against yours, making the strap press against you firmly.
You shake your head. Cassandra sighs and lifts her hips up. The strap falls out of her and slaps wetly against your stomach. “Take it off.” She says and starts helping you unclasp the straps and shimmy the strap down your legs. She sets it to the side before coming back.
“Are you gonna be good?” She cups your jaw, gently guiding your face to look at hers. You nod, the hope that you were done and could get back to sleep fading. “Good.” She presses her lips to yours quickly before repositioning.
She turns around and lowers her cunt to your face. “Lick.” You stick your tongue out obediently. She sits herself fully down, burying you in her wet pussy. You lick over her, moaning at the taste of her arousal and cum.
Cass spreads your thighs and returns the favor, burying her tongue in your cunt. You run your tongue over her clit, and she sucks yours into her mouth in return. You moan into her, and she rocks her hips down against your face.
She humps your face, eating you out as she takes her pleasure. You stick your tongue out, giving up pleasing her with any measure of skill and just letting her ride your face. You’re too overstimulated and blissed out to focus on anything, but Cassandra doesn’t seem to be suffering the same fate.
She eats you out with a measure of skill, eating you out in the way that she knows brings you the most pleasure. She sucks on your clit softly, flicking her tongue over the sensitive nerve bundle. You squirm underneath her on the bed as she brings you painful pleasure.
You can’t stop your hips from jerking against her face as you approach your peak. She hums against you as she notes the signs of your impending orgasm. Cassandra continues her efforts, eagerly awaiting you to fall apart on her tongue. You can’t stop yourself from falling over the edge.
She eagerly licks up your cum, working you through your waves of pleasure. She moans as you flood her tongue and cums in turn on your face. Cass humps your tongue desperately, coating your face in her cum. She continues licking your pussy, even after you start trying to wiggle away.
It’s not until her orgasm fades that she finally grants you relief. She sighs and rolls off you softly. Cass turns, laying her head on the bed beside yours. “You did well.” She praises and kisses your cheek. “I know you’re tired. Go back to sleep. I’m going to ride you again.”
You close your eyes as she gets to work refastening the strap around your hips and taking her place back on top of you. You drift back off to sleep as she starts rocking her hips down against yours again.
summary: you never expected to run into the woman of your dreams of the same day you were set to attend the dance school of your dreams, but here you were.
contents: fem!reader x cassandra cain, ballerina reader, meet-cutes, awkward!reader, soo much fluff, low-key simp!reader
request here!
A/N: I had so much fun making this! I'm not super confident in my portrayal of Cass but hopefully it isn't too bad lmao. Also should I make a separate taglist for smaus and ficlets? lmk.
After working your ass off for years you've finally made it; Gotham Metropolitan Ballet. When you saw the email in your inbox last week you couldn't believe it. You'd ran around your apartment calling anyone and everyone you could before collapsing back on your bed.
It's a dance school for the best of the best, even just standing in front of it now sends chills down your arms. Elaine Torsky, one of the best dancers in the world, practiced at this very theater. In a few minutes you were going to be standing in the same room that Elaine Torsky once stood, you could faint.
You made sure your leotard and tights were in pristine condition, the gray hoodie and sweatpants you're wearing over them freshly bought and saved for this day. You re-did your hair about seven times before being satisfied with how the bun looked, and applied your favorite perfume twice.
You can feel your leotard start sticking to your back due to how much you're sweating. You force yourself to take a deep breath before you begin your ascent up the stairs. It's just your luck that your foot misses the top step and your weight throws you backwards.
You brace for the impact of stone stairs against your spine, your face already flushing with embarrassment, when you feel an arm slip around your waist.
Someone is holding you perfectly balanced in a low dip with one arm. You glance forward to thank your savior when your breathe catches in your throat. She's beautiful. A lock of jet black hair has slipped from it's place in her French twist, falling over her forehead to brush over her perfect cheekbone. Deep, honey-brown eyes stare into yours as her arm around you tightens.
You try not to stare at her lips too obviously as you attempt to right yourself. Pulling yourself to your feet, you grab her shoulder for stability. Drool pools in your mouth as you feel the muscles hidden beneath her sweatshirt shift beneath your fingers.
"Thank you." You choke out, ready to run into the nearest bathroom stall to wallow at embarrassing yourself in front of someone so out of your league.
She doesn't let you run though. She reaches out to settle a warm hand on your arm, your eyes shoot up from where they were burning a hole into the ground to her face. A smile is curled on her lips and your eyes dart to them instinctively, the smile seems to brighten.
"Are you okay?" she says and, god, even her voice has you biting your lip.
You nod, probably too quickly, but you don't care. The most gorgeous woman you've ever met is in front of you and all you've done is look like a fool. You're going to go home and mope about this while she goes back to her luxury apartment to tell this story to her super model boyfriend—or worse, girlfriend.
She looks you up and down, her gaze making your stomach flip, before she nods to the building in front of you.
"You're a part of the afternoon class?"
You nod again, too nervous that if you spoke you'd blurt out something like: you're the hottest person I've ever laid eyes on please, please go out with me. Her entire face brightens and you immediately want to know what caused it so that you can do it again.
"Me too." She says. She goes to walk forward, her hand still on your arm, before suddenly whipping her head back around like she forgot something important.
"I'm Cassandra Wayne." She says, like she needs you to know her name. You stutter out your own in response; your tongue clumsy and intent on embarrassing you in front of the woman of your dreams.
Despite the awkward encounter, Cassandra still leads you all the way into the studio holding the afternoon class. Neither of you make small talk but the silence between the two of you is anything but uncomfortable. You part with a friendly wave goodbye as the instructor walks to the front of the room to begin introductions.
The familiar rhythm of dégagés and pliés manages to coax you out of your nerves. Focusing on maintaining the proper forms and keeping on tempo stole so much of your attention that you almost forget about Cassandra.
Almost.
It was impossible to completely forget about her when she seemed to garner the attention from everyone in the room. She hit every mark perfectly and looked ethereal doing it. The leotard and matching tights compliment her well formed muscles and the French twist pulling back her hair accentuates her sharp features.
Class ended without much fanfare except for everyone, including the instructor, trying to find an excuse to talk to Cassandra. You debate walking up to her to say goodbye, and thanks for the save earlier, but she seems occupied enough with the crowd slowly forming around her.
You pack your things into your dance bag and throw on your sweatshirt and sweatpants. Taking one last glance at Cassandra, who is ignoring the men and women around her to look at something on her phone, you leave the studio.
You're about half a mile away from the studio, looking down at your phone to find a good restaurant nearby to eat at, when you feel a small tap on your shoulder. You jump, whirling around with a hand on your chest to see Cassandra standing behind you. Her hands are folded behind her back and a wide smile is on her face that looks slightly forced.
"Oh, I didn't think we'd run into each other again! What's up?" Good. That sounded cool and confident, the complete opposite of how you were feeling inside.
Cassandra takes a deep breath, her smile faltering slightly before she quickly puts it back on her face. "I think that you're very beautiful and I'd love to take you out to lunch. On a date. May I?"
What? There's no fucking way, right?
"I'm sorry, I think my ears aren't working," you reach up to rub at your left ear, "do you think you can repeat that?"
Cassandra does. "I think that you're very beautiful and I'd love to take you out on a date. May I?"
Holy fucking shit.
"Uhm, yeah totally!" You reach into your bag to grab your phone, the device slipping out of your grip in your excitement.
Cassandra catches it before it hits the ground, holding it back out to you. You thank her with pink cheeks before asking for her number. Once phone numbers are traded she asks if your hungry.
"Yeah, starving." You reply.
She smiles. Holding out her arm for you to grab before she leads you away towards a small family owned diner. This time you work up the courage to make small talk; you learn about her brothers and she learns about your two cats. You both laugh around your food and hide smiles behind your hands. You two stay at the diner for two hours.
When you eventually say your goodbyes you're already anticipating the next date.
Hello! Can you please write some headcanons about Cassandra Cain having a crush on villain!reader please!
Of course you may take as much time as you need<33
Absolutely! Here’s a set of headcanons about Cassandra Cain having a crush on a villain!Reader:
● Silent Stares:
Cassandra can’t help herself from watching you when you appear on patrol or during a mission. She’ll study your movements, the way you wield your abilities, your confidence, and her heart does that weird thump thing she’s not used to.
● Mixed Signals:
You notice her staring but can’t tell if it’s admiration, suspicion, or something else. Her subtle blush or hesitant glance makes you curious and mischievously flirty.
● Training Obsession:
Cass starts pushing herself harder in combat and stealth exercises, partly to impress you, partly to prove she’s capable of standing against you, or even alongside you. She’s competitive without realizing she’s trying to get your attention.
● Awkward Words:
When she speaks to you, it’s unusually stilted. Short sentences, clipped tones. She’s terrified of saying the wrong thing, but you think it’s cute, and it makes you smirk.
● Conflicted Loyalty:
Cass knows you’re on the wrong side of the law, and that creates an internal struggle. She’s drawn to you, yet constantly questioning your motives. Her crush is intense but tinged with guilt.
● Subtle Heroic Gestures:
Even though she’s trying to stay professional and keep her distance, she leaves small things in places you’ll notice: a hidden note, a snack, or covering your back in combat without making it obvious.
● The “Accidental” Touch:
During an encounter, she brushes her hand against yours “by accident” or bumps into you slightly, and it leaves both of you a little flustered.
● Learning Your Ways:
Cass becomes obsessed with understanding your tactics and philosophy, not just for missions, but because she wants to understand you. She studies your patterns like she’s deciphering a code… and maybe she is.
● Confession in the Shadows:
Eventually, she might leave a note or speak to you in the middle of the night, in a quiet, private moment. Her confession is minimal, understated, but her actions say more than words ever could.
● Protective Instincts:
Even though you’re a villain, Cass can’t help but be protective. She’ll interfere if someone else tries to hurt you, her quiet rage a stark contrast to her normally composed demeanor.
● Teasing from Allies:
If anyone notices, they tease her relentlessly. Tim, Dick, or Steph might make knowing comments, and Cass only stiffens, a little flustered, and swears it’s nothing.
● Slow Burn:
The romance is slow, tension-filled, and full of stolen glances, small gestures, and moments where both of you question your allegiances. Every encounter leaves a spark, even when you’re on opposite sides.
