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When Secret Identities Mingle with Justice League Relations…

Summary:

When the justice league play a little game, they begin to open up about their celebrity crushes, of course the handsome playboy Bruce Wayne was a commonly mentioned name, but batman only cared about one of the league’s members opinion.

Superman. Clark Kent.

 

Or…
Justice League have the day off, they play fuck, marry, kill.

Notes:

probably and over used idea, but I really wanted to write the justice league playing fuck, marry, kill with celebrities. (inspired by a tiktok I saw 👀)

Spoiler alert. They fall in love 😻

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Bats like to play mind games

Chapter Text

The Watch Tower.

 

The galactic residence of the Justice League.

 

It also happened to be the setting of today’s rather (in Bruce’s eyes, unfortunate) events.

 

The Flash, aka, Barry Allen, burst in through the doors of the common room with his phone in hand and a grin that was far too eager for Bruce’s liking.

 

Maintaining that cheeky grin, he started to speak, looking up from his phone and announcing; “Important question-“

 

“No.”

 

Batman declined immediately, refusing to tear his gaze from the mission reports he was so focused on.

 

“I didn’t even get to say anything yet!”

 

Barry protested, practically flailing his arms around in annoyance.

 

“Besides! You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”

 

“I don’t need to know, your expression tells me it’s irrelevant to the mission reports you’re supposed to be filing.”

 

The bat replied monotonously, his voice flat and unamused as he continued to mull over the files that sat in front of him.

 

Barry gave a rather loud and dramatic groan, making sure Batman was aware of the great annoyance he was causing.

 

“Fine, you don’t have to play, I’m sure the others will be more enthusiastic than mister tall dark and angry…”

 

He muttered to himself in petty frustration before he sped across the room to sit on the couch between Green Lantern and Superman.

 

They’d accept his game, surely!

 

“Hey fellas! Saw an internet poll, ‘Most Attractive Public Figures’, thought we could play a little game to see has the best taste in celebrities.”

Barry grinned, waggling his eyebrows and unlocking his phone to show the two hero’s the post. Of course Hal, Green Lantern, was smirking like this was the best moment of his life, he shot a cheeky eyebrow raise to Clark, Superman, who was sitting beside him.

 

“I’m down. Whaddya say, big blue?”

 

Hal cocked his head to the side and grinned unapologetically, as if he were propositioning something far more lucrative that it really was.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Yes!”

 

______________________________

“Okay, hook up with Robert Pattinson, marry Bruce Wayne, kill Lex Luthor. Easy.”

 

Now THAT got the ever stoic Batman to raise an eyebrow under the cowl and pay attention to the game his colleagues were playing.

 

They were talking about Bruce Wayne.

 

They didn’t know that Bruce Wayne was actually the man sitting a few feat away, hidden under a black cowl.

 

Maybe this game could be a little interesting after all.

 

“What about you, Kal?” Hal asked with a grin, looking over to his Kryptonian friend.

 

“Oh, I don’t really know, but I can agree with you on the Lex Luthor one,”

 

He chuckled humbly not wanting to admit anything that could be used against him later or potentially brought up in conversation that could somehow bite him in the ass.

 

“Oh come on! We all said ours, now spill it, Supes!”

 

Barry pleaded in amusement, nagging Clark for answers just like Hal was. The two could be exceptionally insufferable when they wanted to be.

 

“Okay, Okay! You got me, Fine, I suppose I’d-…”

 

He sighed in reluctance but finally admitted his answer.

 

“Same as Hal, marry Wayne, kill Lex and so forth.”

 

“Like good old Mr. Wayne Enterprises, hm?” Lantern grinned, waggling his brows suggestively.

 

“No! I-I mean, it’s just-“

 

Superman.

 

Kal-El.

 

Clark Kent.

 

Was flustered about having a celebrity crush?

 

Huh.

 

Now this, this, Bruce could work with.

_________________________________

 

“…-lark? Clark?! Are you even listening to me?”

 

Clark was pulled from his thoughts when the sound of Lois Lane aggressively waving her arms around in front of him whilst asking, no, demanding for his full attention.

 

“What? Sorry, yeah, uhm.. could you repeat that?” He admitted sheepishly, adjusting his glasses and brushing his dark curls out of his eyes.

 

“Smallville, you’re terrible at paying attention.” She scoffed with faux annoyance before continuing.

 

“Anyway, there’s a Wayne event tomorrow evening, it’s in Gotham’s city hall, high ranking socialites and lots of people to interview.”

 

A Wayne gala?

 

Bruce Wayne would be there…

 

Snap out of it, Kent!

 

“Oh- yeah, okay, what about it?”

 

“What about it!?” She scoffed, unimpressed at his, in her eyes, obliviousness. “What about it, is that you, Mister Clark Kent, are going to go to this gala, and try interview our favourite billionaire playboy, Mr. Wayne.”

 

She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows playfully, she spun around on her chair, shuffling through some notes before she handed him a lanyard and a few other pieces of paper, likely to show he was a valid attendee.

 

“Me? Wait!- Lois, why aren’t you coming?” Clark asked curiously as he fumbled to take the items Lois had given him.

 

“Oh, I’m busy, besides, I’m sure you can handle it!” She grinned, calling out over her shoulder as she walked out of the office with her things.

 

Well.

 

Wasn’t that just swell?

 

_________________________________

 

The gala was everything and more.

 

Bright lights, mahogany walls, crimson curtains, shiny marble floors with pillars that reached to the roof, creating a beautiful frame for the floor to ceiling windows which showcased the well kept garden that sat just outside.

 

Clark felt way out of place.

 

And out of his tax bracket.

 

A sleek black car pulled up alongside the venue, a 1969 Dodge Charger, it carried a serious yet sultry aura to it.

 

The passenger door swung open and out stepped the Prince of the city, dressed in a tailored black suit which hugged his waist, slacks which fit his legs beautifully, black dress shoes which clacked against the polished stone floor.

 

Suddenly the crowd roared, cameras flashed, journalists fought against the security.

 

Against the sea of personal bodyguards that followed Mr. Wayne.

 

“Mr. Wayne!—“

 

“A comment for New York Times!?—“

 

“What’s your opinion on the recent developments involvi—“

 

“Anyone caught your eye?!”

 

“What’s life like as Gotham’s most eligible bachelor?!”

 

Make way for the Prince of Gotham.

 

Brucie Wayne.

 

Brucie shot a charming smile at the sea of reporters that attempted to swallow him whole, giving a smirk and maybe a wink or two if earned.

 

He navigated through the crowd with practiced ease, someone offered him a flute of champagne? He accepted graciously, passing on another glass to whomever was closest causing a ripple of giggles at his flirtatious persona.

 

“Mr. Wayne! A smile for the camera?” A photographer chimed as he sought out the best angle

 

“Ah, of course, sir!” He replied in that same effortlessly charismatic manner, turning to face the man and shooting him a smile whilst raising his glass slightly as if toasting.

 

Clark stood like a lost kid amongst the crowd of high ranking Gotham and Metropolis socialites.

 

His obnoxious height and build didn’t help.

 

He stuck out like a sore thumb.

 

So of course Brucie shot him a charming wink from across the crowd.

 

Clark gulped and avoided eye contact, shuffling his way to the side of the event to get himself ready for what he was actually here for.

 

Journalism.

 

This was going to be a long night.