#Batman x Batmom

[mostly-imagines]

Sugar on the Rim vol. II

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

part one

warnings: heavily implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), smut, oral fem!receiving, nervous but enthusiastically consenting reader

You’d tried to calm your nerves but they couldn’t be helped.

You’re anxious about everything, all of it. What he wants you to do, what he’s expecting you do, whether it’ll hurt, whether you’re ready.

You think you trust Bruce, but you also know that these things are different for men and women. You don’t necessarily expect that he’ll have a mind for what you’ll need, but honestly, neither do you. You don’t know what to do to make this easier for yourself—you don’t know what to do at all. 

You bought the lingerie, you’ve got it on under your clothes and it feels like a costume. You can’t tell if that aids or worsens the anxiety. 

You’re fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and you wish you could quit it, you’re radiating enough nervous energy as it is, you don’t need to be sending him visual cues on top of it. 

Bruce holds your free hand in his as he guides you through the manor, you think it’s a different section than you’ve seen before. His hand engulfs yours unfairly as he leads, but the touch of his skin is so warm and inviting that you can’t tell if your hand is still shaking under it. If it is, he pretends not to notice.

He guides you up the stairs and into a corridor and then another before you arrive at a set of double doors. You’ve never seen double doors on the inside of a house before.

He lets you in ahead of him, and you have a distinct thought that you’re glad he can’t see the look of awe on your face as you walk in. His bedroom has an entire living room inside of it, and altogether it’s bigger than your whole apartment. A maroon couch and matching chairs surround a grand fireplace at the front of the room and the resulting glow from the active embers has the area shrouded in a warm light ahead of the shadows filling the rest.

You glance past the seating at his bed; large and proud. It’s definitely bigger than a king sized, with an overhead canopy and streams of dark burgundy curtains draping down from the corners. There’s another set of closed double doors past the bed, you imagine leading to the bathroom.

The end of the room displays a large window seat that looks like it’s never been used, and vast tinted windows. You look up to find the ceiling higher than you’ve ever seen in a bedroom with a very expensive chandelier hanging over it all.

He takes your arm, steering you out of your wonderment and leads you towards the couch rather than the bed, gesturing for you to sit down with him. You do, quietly glad when he positions himself so that you’re close to each other but not pressed right up against you. He’s able to relax his body more than you’re able to fake it on yourself, and you think your thoughts must be vibrating out of you by now.    

One hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other nudges your cheek towards him. “Hey, nothing’s happening right now. No need to be nervous.”

You nod blankly, but your thoughts are running wild with everything that you very much are nervous about.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

“You’ve got to relax,” he coos, “Remember what I said?”

You take a breath, “You’re not going to throw me in the deep end.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Just wanna make you feel good, right?”

You nod, easing your posture.

He looks you in the eye, “You gonna let me?”

You hum, nodding again.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pulling away.

You quickly find that the distance is not at all what you want, and you decide to push forward—as forward as you can—sitting up again to peel your jacket off. He watches you move with a look in his eyes, you take it for intrigue but it may just as well be something akin to pride. Pride in you? He’s openly flirted, kissed you, and straight up propositioned you for sex—but sure, he’s proud of you for taking your jacket off.

Your nerves transition into insecurity before you can catch them, and you’re starting to feel a little stupid, like a child playing pretend.

You watch tentatively as he tilts his head at you, running his own assessments of your actions. 

“Will you come sit on my lap?” he asks you after a moment. 

You suddenly become acutely aware of the amount of air in your lungs. This feels like a big request and you’re not even sure how to take his meaning. Does he want you to sit sideways? Your back to his front? Or fully straddle him? 

He wants whatever you want, he’d said. What do you want?

You glance down at his thighs, covered by fabric more expensive than you can imagine. Positive confirmation rings through your head immediately, willing you to push yourself forward a little more. 

You reposition yourself over him, straddling his lap in spite of your nerves.

Again, he looks pleased. Happy even. One of his hands comes to stroke soothing patterns across your lower back, the other resting on your waist. 

He makes sure to catch your gaze, “You’ll tell me if you want to stop.” 

He follows when your eyes stray, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

He places a tender kiss on your cheekbone, “How did shopping go?”

“Um, good. It was good. One of the sales girls helped me,” your breath is shaky as he kisses your jawline.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I, uh, I just went to this little boutique up on third street,” he places another kiss on the column of your throat as you talk. “Um, it took longer than I thought it would. There were so many choices.”

His hands come up to soothe over your ribs, pulling you a little closer as they do. He hums for you to keep talking, his kisses continuing to lower until they’re down to your collarbone, though they remain relatively chaste.

“I—I didn’t really know what to look for,” you admit, breath shaky as you exhale. 

“But you like it?”

“Yeah, I—I do.”

He hums, smiling against your skin. His fingers inch under the seam of your shirt, caressing your waist. “Can I take this off?”

You nod timidly, trying not to seem so on edge with anticipation. You’re not confident that he can’t see right through you.  

He presses another chaste kiss to your neck upon receival of the permission, and your shirt begins to come off slowly, his hands skimming every new bit of skin revealed. As he pulls it over your head, he glances down at the baby pink bralette you’d picked out for yourself.

He groans quietly as he takes in the sight, “Oh, pretty girl. Beautiful girl,” He noses at your chest, leaving little kisses where his lips make contact with your skin, “Look at you. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your stomach flutters as his hair tickles your cheek. His hands roam up your sides, stopping to stroke placid circles along the sides of your breasts.

His touch makes its way around your back, expertly undoing your bra clasp without a second thought. Your bra hangs forward a bit off your shoulders, but he leaves the work of entirely removing it to you. And you do, with more confidence than you’d imagined yourself mustering.

He immediately shows his appreciation, kissing and caressing your chest with lover-like admiration. Your head falls back involuntarily as he noses at your soft skin.

He’s breathing heavy when he pulls back, humming low and deep before lifting you up off his lap to stand. The sudden shift has you a bit thrown off, working to catch up as he kneels down in front of you and repeats his earlier process with your skirt—kissing your thighs and tugging the fabric down bit by bit.

When it’s discarded on the floor you stand only left in your underwear, the lace practically illuminated against your skin.

He looks up at you from his place on the floor and smiles as he takes in the sight of your body. His hands find your hips as he asks you, “Has anyone ever seen you like this before?”

You hesitate for half a second before answering truthfully.

His smile grows, “No, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s nodding, “Yeah, I know.”

As he rises to stand he scoops you up by the back of your thighs and lifts you in the air with no discernable effort. Now at face level with him, you get a bit bolder and lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back, pleased, beginning to walk the two of you over towards the bed.

He sets you down gently atop the soft mattress, kisses pushing you backwards to lie back on the bed. He scoops your wrists up and leisurely moves your arms up above your head. His grip is benign as he releases one hand in favor of holding your jaw. Your kiss is deep and controlled on his part, but in a way that makes you feel light in the head. You like the cloudy-sensation very much.

After a while, he pulls back to look at you with clouded eyes. 

He practically purrs, “You’re such a kind girl. So sweet to everyone, all the time. Will you let me be sweet to you?”

Your breath is shaky as you nod, attempts at hiding your anticipation failing.

He nods back at you with a faux-sympathy across his face. “Let me hear you say it.”

You force air into your lungs, giving you the willpower to speak the words. “Will you touch me? Please?”

The corners of his lips turn up, “Of course, sweet girl.”

He nips at your jaw as his hands travel down, petting the inside of your thighs with a touch so feather light it almost tickles.

Your knee jerks inward towards his hand, your body desperately seeking out more of this new sensation. He obliges, tracing his touch back up, up, up until his hand dips under the lace trim of your panties, skimming over your clit. Your hips flinch back away from him momentarily in surprise, only to press back forward a second later.

He actually laughs at the action, like it’s endearing. You feel a little silly for it, but you’re not given much time to dwell as he persists, brushing against you with a bit more pressure.

He tilts his head, watching your expression carefully with a remarkably pleased look on his own face. “How’s that, sweet girl?”

You nod, beside yourself. “Feels good,” you whimper. “Feels really good..”

You don’t necessarily mean to, but your hips grind up against his touch, your body too mesmerized with the sensation to remember to be embarrassed.

He’s certainly not complaining about it though, his quiet coos encouraging you to chase the feeling. 

He lets you grind up against his hand, taking in the needy look on your face with contentment.

“Poor girl,” he tuts. “Just need somebody to take care of you, huh?”

That makes your cheeks burn, but your attention finds itself more concerned with the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

You whine when he pulls his hand back out of your underwear, only for him to stand resolute in his actions. 

“Not yet, sweet thing,” he hums, pressing you back down to the bed with a light but firm touch when you try to sit up. 

He hushes you gently, murmuring for you to be patient as he shifts his position over you. 

He starts to move down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. The sensation of his lips tracing down your stomach has you feeling butterflies.

By the time he reaches your waistline you’re borderline dizzy from the anticipation, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the ache.

He pauses there for a moment, torturously, and noses at the seam of your panties. A whine from you has him chuckling and finally moving to where you need him.

He kisses your clit over your underwear and you’re fighting thoughts of embarrassment over how sure you are he can taste how wet you are over the fabric.

It doesn’t seem to be enough for him though, as he tugs your panties down slowly, kissing your thighs as he goes.

Bruce’s hands hold onto your waist as he eats you out, holding you in place with an easy grip. 

You squirm against the feel of his tongue and you can’t quite figure out what to do with your hands. You almost wish he’d made you keep them above your head but really you’re not sure you’d be able to keep it together if he had. You’re not sure you’re keeping it together now.

He groans against your pussy, and one of your hands flies to grip his hair without permission from your brain. If you’re being honest with yourself though, your brain isn’t really the one calling the shots anymore.

You gasp when he licks a bold stripe, “Bruce—”

He groans again, briefly breaking away from you. “Oh, say that again.”

You sigh out, “Bruce, please.” 

He makes a pleased hum. “Good girl,” he murmurs before diving back in. 

He complies with your pleas generously, giving you more. He’s gradual but resolute as he inserts two fingers into you, giving you the time to adjust. But he’d evidently done a very thorough job prepping you for it, you’re so wet that the initial entry doesn’t sting like you’d expected. No, rather the first thing you register is closer to pleasure. A lot closer.

He begins to pump in and out of you at he continues to suck at your clit, and somewhere during you have a distinct thought of “oh this is it.”

You let out a little gasp and for once, you break out of your own head and just relish in the way his fingers curl inside you.

The way your thighs squeeze around him as you come, doesn’t hinder him one bit, only has him applying his ministrations with more intent. It doesn’t take long for the trembling of your body to give way to full on shaking, your body stuttering beneath him.

He continues working at you the entire way through your orgasm, until you’re flinching from overstimulation. 

He gives you one more lick before looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Y’taste sweet too, you know that?”

You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks as he starts to move back up to face-level, kissing the high point of your cheekbone.  

He pulls down on your bottom lip, your slick wet against your mouth.

You open without question, a clouding urge to please him the only thing running through your mind. 

He grumbles a low, pleased sound as you do, moving his hand only to provide room for him to kiss you again.

He sits back up over you and starts unbuttoning his shirt and you realize only now that he’s still fully dressed. 

He glances down to his belt as he undoes the buttons. 

“Will you help me out, sweet girl?”

You blink a couple times before registering the request, still overwhelmed by how quickly and skillfully he’d made you come. 

You struggle a bit to push yourself up into a sitting position, but he supports you by your waist, nipping along your jaw as encouragement.

Your hands shake as you undo the clasp, and while you’re still very much eager, if not moreso, you’re suddenly confronted with the very real possibility that you’re about to have your limits pushed. He ate you out and did a damn good job, stands to reason that he’d want you to return the favor.

So it takes you by surprise when he’s nudging you back against the pillows, removing his pants himself.

He keeps you occupied with an intense kiss as he does, and the distraction so smooth it’s almost like it’s rehearsed. 

You follow his lead easily, though surprised by his lack of desire to get his fill too.

He drapes himself over you nicely, his size easily dwarfing you out. He’s quick to block your chin from tilting down, gently bringing your face back up to meet his. 

He shakes his head lightly, murmuring, “Don’t worry about that. I got you.”

You are worried about it, but you trust Bruce, you know you do now.

You feel the weight of his cock against your stomach, at this exact moment, feeling like not much more than a daunting task.

“S’alright, sweet girl,” he lulls, brushing your hair back. “Okay?”

As heavy as the simple question is, you don’t need to think about it before you’re nodding and moving your hand to hold onto his bicep.

He peppers kisses all over your face as he starts to push in, effectively starting to distract you from the pain of the stretch. He hushes your whines soothingly and kneads at your waist with confident hands.

Your arms lock around his shoulders on instinct, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to convince yourself he’s almost all the way in, but you know you’ve got aways to go.

He pauses halfway, imploring you to open your eyes so he can check up on you properly.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he softly urges.

You will yourself to blink up at him and try to take on the challenge of both him and his gaze. Surely, an impossible task.

But you manage shaky eye contact that occasionally gives way to glancing down at his lips. 

It doesn’t feel good yet, but it only makes you more eager to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a breath. “You can keep going.”

He waits to find that reassurance in your eyes before he continues to push in, bestowing you a deep kiss in reward for your bravery.

Once he’s nearly bottomed out he waits a moment, then begins to rock in and out slowly, letting you get used to a starter of the sensation.

He brushes your hair back, weaving through the strands. “There we go,” he coos as you look down between you. “Doing so good.”

Your gasp is louder than they had been before, and closer to a sigh now. 

He’s fucking you gently, with a decorum that exceeds what you’d earlier told yourself you were stupid for hoping for.

It doesn’t take long at all for his movement to start to feel really good and your grip around his shoulders comes around to a different kind of intensity.

He noses against your jaw, applying kisses whenever  convenient. “‘S that feel good, sweet girl? Hm?”

He hits a particularly deep spot in you immediately after and it makes you borderline squeak. He huffs out a laugh that’s nothing short of affectionate. 

“Yeah?”

He then attacks that spot with extra intention, hitting it absolutely expertly every time. He speeds up a little, lips latched onto your neck as he fucks you nice and deep.

He drops a hand down between you and starts rubbing circles onto your clit with a pace that makes you want to scream.

You can’t help the moan you release when he teeths at your neck, clearly aiming to drive you crazy. But damn if he isn’t going about it the right way.

His circles pick up pace and you can be sure you’re leaving nail marks on his back. He seems to only get more encouraged by your sounds, working you closer and closer to the edge with every whimper.

He finally lets you over after a minute of shamelessly relishing in your moans, himself following close after.

He continues moving in and out of you until you’ve both completely finished, slowly coming to a stop. 

You get a moment to catch your breath before he pulls out delicately. You don’t even realize he’s moved before he’s got his boxers back on and is halfway to the bathroom.

You’re a little alarmed by the sudden shift in proximity, though you guess that’s the playboy experience, isn’t it? After a second you hear water running and assume he’s taking a shower.

You push yourself to sit up fully, minding your achy thighs, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You glance at the foot of the bed where your underwear lies, then back over by the couch where the rest of your clothes lay discarded. You briefly contemplate how quickly you can get your clothes back on when the bathroom doors open again.

You glance up at Bruce, dazed, who looks surprised himself to see you sitting up. As he makes his way back to the bed you notice the supplies he has in tow and your brain begins to slowly start turning its gears again.

You don’t realize the glass of water in his hand is for you until he’s pushed it into your palm. 

His other hand carries a wet wash cloth that you, again, aren’t able to register the purpose for until it’s in action. 

“Drink,” he tells you as he spreads your knees apart gently, wiping away the mess between your legs with a notable amount of compassion for your sensitivity.

You do, gulping a few as he finishes, tossing the rag in a hamper before setting your glass down on the side table.

Your eyes return to the end of the bed and you nearly decide to get up, but he’s still standing so close to you, you’re not sure this is the right time.

You seem caught halfway between decisions now, you know you do. You’d honestly preferred when you thought he’d just ditched you for a shower because at least then this part wouldn’t be so awkward.

He watches you closely as you deliberate and seems to draw a conclusion about your hesitation rather quickly. His brow pinches as he processes, tilting his head at you. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he says, bewildered. “Right?”

“I—” you falter, looking to the couch and back to him again. “No?”

He stares at you for a moment with an expression you can’t define.

“Lay down.”

You don’t have a second to process before he’s climbing back in bed too, pulling you down to lay your head on the pillow.

He pulls the covers over you and splays an arm over your waist, clearly firm in his decision for you to stay.

Your eyes are heavy and his bed is so comfortable, it’s difficult for you to even consider either of you wanting you to leave now.

Maybe you’ll just sleep for a little while, get some of your energy back. 

The way he traces soft patterns across your stomach certainly encourages the idea and doesn’t give you much power to resist.

You let your eyes flutter shut to the feather-light touch and listen to the steady deepness of his breaths.

Well, this isn’t so bad either.

🐲 reblogging is an ancient art form, only the strong may master it 🐲

[blackcupidangel]

Things Batmom has said:

“Keep your father out of the kitchen, I’ll be back by morning.”

“We’ll if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions”

“It means you can either drive yourself home or I’ll have Alfred come get you.”

“Look at my handsome boys growing into fine gentlemen.”

“Stay safe, I love you”

“Eyes open, baby birds.”

“Alfred and I made food for the week, it’s in the fridge” *punch* “Your running shoes are on the left side of the closet” *kicks* “Make sure his project is done tonight, it’s due tomorrow.”

“I’m going to let you fix it, because if I fix it I’m going to jail.”

“It’s called,” she raises one fist “fuck around,” then she raises her other fist, “and find out.”

“You don’t even know me, you don’t even know my real name…” she leans in with harden eyes yet calm features, “I’m the fuckin boogie man”

“Do not play with me, I am not the one, two, or the three.”

“Don’t kill him.” //“I’m sorry but who’s the one tied up here?” //“Darling—“// “Because the way I see it, it’ll be in self defense.”

“Just one leg.” “No” “Both legs?” “No!” “You’re right….I’ll go for their kneecap.”

“So…you’ve chosen to disobey me.”

“Alright now…don’t write a check you can’t cash.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you because of your tone of voice.” She leans in with a hand cupping her ear to encourage a second chance.

“Do I look like booboo the fool?!”

“Brilliant.”

“As mad as I am, I can’t let you shoot him.”// “Just this once?” //“No.” //“I’ll go for the knees. Nothing vital.” //“Hhgh.”

“You really hit the nail on the head with that one Batman.”

“And WHO do you think you’re taking to?”

“Don’t tell your father.”

“Be home by 10, or I start looking windows.”

“I’m so very proud of you!”

“A girl’s gotta be prepared.”

“You know…about the whole guns thing, I’m still not so sure I feel as strongly as you do.”

“Way to go, Bruce.”

“Touch my child, I dare you. Make my day.”

“Ahh…Motherhood.”

—————————————————————————

Heyyyyyyy hotties I’m backkkkkkk. Send me asks and requests as I’m easing my way back into things. It might take me a while to find my flow and writing style so bear with me please. I missed you all so much honestly.

[bia-wayne-west]

Milk with cookies and bedtime stories [Batmom x Damian Wayne]

Synopsis: It was just a few months ago that Damian was included in the Wayne family. He still didn’t like you, but you tried so hard to make him appreciate you. During a patrol, Damian got hurt and after Alfred took care of the little boy’s wounds, you surprised him with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

Characters: Damian Wayne and Reader [YOU]

A/N: I wrote this quickly. Hope you like. In this imagine, Batmom has been married to Bruce since he adopted Dick.

I want to apologize if there are any writing errors. I'm a Brazilian girl and I don't speak fluent English, so I may make some writing mistakes. Feel free to correct me.

I hope you read, like and feel how cute Damian is.

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

You were sitting on the kitchen stool, reading a fashion magazine while you waited for your husband to return from patrol.

Bruce forbade you to stay in the Batcave, as he was afraid that someone would break in and find you, alone and unprotected.

As soon as you felt the ground shake, it meant that the Batcave had opened and that Batman had arrived with his Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing.

You ran to the clock that gave access to the secret entrance to Batcave. The elevator quickly took you to where your children and husband were.

“Hey, my love. You got back before 5am!” You said, running up to Bruce Wayne. He still wore black clothes and was without a mask. Your husband didn’t respond. He was serious and had a worried expression on his face.

“A man dropped Damian from a three-story building .” Bruce said looking at the boy who was sitting next to Alfred.

You finally noticed Damian, whose face was bruised and his leg was bandaged. You walked over to the boy and knelt in front of him.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I fell on top of a car and didn’t break any bones.”

“Damian, darling, are you hurt?” You asked, looking into Bruce’s son’s green eyes.

You smiled, in a motherly way. Damian didn’t consider you a mother, unlike the other three boys who called you ‘mother’ and ‘mommy’ all the time. Your husband’s son only considered you as a stepmother, but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him as if he were your son.

“I’m going to run you a hot bubble bath. After Alfred takes care of you, I think you’ll want to relax in the warm water.”

“Thank you, Y/N, but I’m not your baby.” He said rolling his eyes and turning his face to look at Alfred.

“Damian!” Bruce warned his son. But you smiled at your husband, showing that everything was okay. You left the Batcave, heading back to the mansion to prepare Dami’s bath.

(…)

Damian was already in his room. You were heading to the boy's room, with a tray in your hand.

The clock said 2:32 am, but you were sure the boy hadn't slept yet. The Waynes used to sleep only when the sun came up.

Yout left hand knocked lightly on the wooden door with the boy's initials engraved on it. Ypur ears picked up a “you can come in”, authorizing you to enter Damian’s room.

“I came to see if you were okay, Dami.” You said, entering and closing the door behind your body. Your arms came off the tray on the bed, seeing that the boy was sitting on the mattress. “I brought milk and cookies, this will definitely make you feel better.”

“Why do you do these things, Y/N?” He asked, with a questioning look.

“I didn't understand. Don't you like what I do for you?”

“At first I thought you had a plan to win me over and then you would hate me for being Bruce's biological son.” He said, seeing you take a cookie and offer it to him.

“I would never do that. I love you, Dami, even if you don't like me. These things I do for you are normal motherly actions.”

“My mother didn’t do any of that. She only got cookies when she did something good.” He said, his eyes shining like he was going to cry.

“Oh baby. I know you don't consider me your mother and I don't want to force you into anything, but I want you to know that these things I do are because I love you.” You explained, smiling widely at him and drinking some milk. “Do you know what my mother did for me when I was hurt?”

“No.” He said, while devouring several cookies. “She also gave you cookies and milk?”

“Yes, and she also told me a bedtime story.” You argued, running your hand through the boy's hair. “I'll tell you a story.”

“I’m not four years old, Y/N” He murmured.

“Damian, you’re not old enough to hear a good story before bed.”

“OK. Just don't tell stories about princesses or ponies.”

“Clear. I'm going to tell the story of a boy called Dami. He was so brave and beautiful, he was a strong and fearless boy.” His lips formed a smile as he said the words. Damian's eyes were bright and sweet. “One day, he went to the forest to play with the birds and found a portal to a magical world.”

“Like Narnia?: He asked, completely interested in your story.

“Yes, but without the closet. The magical portal led to a kingdom full of witches, fairies, vampires and any magical creature you can imagine.”

“Even elves?” He questioned you again. Now Damian was lying in bed and you covered him with the blanket.

“Of course, elves can't be missed.” You said. Your heart filled with love and you almost cried when you saw the image of the boy who hated you six months ago totally interested in a bedtime story. “In that kingdom there was a crystal that served as oxygen for all beings there, but a terrible villain broke this crystal and stole its essence, leaving the world without magic.” Damian still had complete fun with your narration. “Then, the queen called Martha went and asked the brave Dami to hunt down the villain and recover the essence of the crystal.”

“And he did this?”

“Yes! Dami took a sword and shield and went out to the magical kingdom in search of the villain. He went to an ancient village in the kingdom called Gothym and met three knights named Grayson, Todd and Drake. They sent Dami to the mountains where he would find the villain.”

“And he found it?”

“He found it, but it was difficult. The villain was hiding in a ruined castle north of Gothym. Dami fought bravely with the villain and defeated him. Dami recovered the essentials of the crystal and in exchange, Queen Martha gave him a personal portal to return to the kingdom as often as he wanted. Dami was a brave hero and defeated the evil villain.” You told the story while running your hand affectionately through the boy's hair. “Did you like the story?”

“Yes, it was the best story anyone told me.”

“I'm glad you liked it, my love. If you want, I can tell you a story every night.”

“Todd would make fun of me if he knew.” He said, looking at you so intently that you knew he was embarrassed for having liked the story.

“I'm gonna tell you a secret. I told Dick, Jason and Tim stories for three years, but they didn't want to.”

“Did you tell Todd bedtime stories?” He asked loudly, as if it were some blasphemy.

“Of course, and he loved them all.”

“So I want to hear stories before bed.”

“I'll love telling you, along with a glass of milk and cookies. Good evening, Dami.” You said getting up from the bed. Your lips found the boy's forehead.

“Good night, mom.” He said, making you look surprised at him. “I can call you mom? Since Dick, Jason, and Tim call you Mom, I thought you might as well.”

“Of course, my dear. You can call me mother and I will call you my son.” Your arms wrapped around the body of the boy, your son. Love seemed to explode in your heart. “Good evening, my dear son.”

“Good nigh, mom.”

You gave Damian one last kiss on his forehead, before picking up the tray and taking it to the kitchen. After washing the dishes, you went to the master suite, the room shared between you and Bruce.

Your husband was lying on the king size bed, waiting for you. After showering and putting on your pajama, you laid down on the bed.

“Damian called me mom.” You said to Bruce, earning a smile from him.

“With bedtime stories, milk and cookies.”

“How did this happen?” He asked, setting aside the iPad he was using to hug you.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Hi, random thought but YK how in the first movie in Spiderman into the multiverse and Peter Parker was fighting. During the scene, it showed him stopping a full on huge moving machine- so like... Imagine spiderman!reader surprising everyone with their strength 😧

[That is a great ask! ALSO, Happy Birthday Jason Todd!]

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

[1/?]

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

Bruce Wayne:

Typing down the mission report for the Leauge. Batman heard you scurrying about behind him.

"Where... Did I..? Is it- No...?" You mumble, carefully moving a few things around.

"What did you loose." Batman stated, eyes focused on the big screen.

"My new pen, I bought it just to help finish paperwork!" You mumble worried, jumping up on a near by wall as you crawl above. Looking down below carefully.

Suddenly, you hop down, walking up behind him. Causing him to pause momentarily as you lean down. Wait-

"Found it! It was underneath you!"

You beam up at him as he looks down at you from his seated position. Easily hoisting the chair with one hand. Politely lowering him back down.

"Thanks B!" You lean to his side happily.

-

Dick Grayson:

It was supposed to be a simple patrol... NOT fight off a few henchman from Killer Croc!

Spidey-sense out of control, you duck down from one of the goons swings. Barely dodging out of the way in time-

*CRASH!*

A bottle crashes down on your shoulder, bits of glass still wedge between your skin and suit

The air becomes thick as the goons freeze at the loud noise.

Even Nightwing mid-remark, gapes at the wound.

...

Ignoring the look Nightwing gave you, you drag the criminals by the scruff of their shirts to the officer.

Giving them your report on what happend, you shoot out a web. Winicing at your injury, you ready yourself for web-slinging. Before a hands grasps your shoulder.

"Please..."

He murmers hopefully, tone a bit guilty.

"... Fine." You relent, watching him grin as he goes to grab his bike.

-

Jason Todd:

With a pep-in-your-step, Jason eyes you. Seeing your bright smile like he expected, but what caught him off gaurd were the bags on BAGS you held in your grip, walking with ease.

Bruce had sent piles of gifts to your doorstep and mailbox for Jasons birthday. Many items to the point you knew that could make many trips bringing them inside. But you would not Jason even lift a finger to help on this special day!

While most friends, or boyfriends wouldn't let their s/o carry so much stuff. You stated with glee you would happily hold his things!

"Jason! Look at all of this! Aww!" You gush, holding the items with ease as you place them down by his side. The young man's lips turn up slightly, gazing fondly at you.

"Jason!" You swoon aloud, shoving the gifts so you could sit by his side. Puppy-eyed, begging him to let you smother his face with kisses.

-

Tim Drake:

Yawning, you scratch your neck as you eye Tim snuggled into your tummy's side. Raising a brow, you poke him. Laughing as he merely scooted closer.

Sticking your tounge at him, you poke at him one last time before he wakes up.

"Mornin'!"

Red Robin smiles, a bit more comforted with you beside him. He moves away, analyzing his area before noticing the keypad to the cell.

"O-Kkkkkaaay- How the hell do we get out of here." Glancing around the small prison cell, you notice a keypad as well.

"Oh, easy-peasy."

"You know the code?"

"Yup! Beep bo bop!" You narrate the bottons, but it glowed red. Showing it wasn't the right answer.

Smiling, you shove your fist through as the wires and glass break due to the impact.

-

[A little something for my Jason Todd fans out there! Happy bday Jason Todd!]

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE WAYNE | BATMAN (generalized fanon | wfa)

—

Bruce Wayne w/ a Rastafarian S/O (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, slice of life, BATMOM, batfamily appearances, fluff, established relationship(s) - caribbean!reader

Pic source — Batman: Wayne Family Adventures webtoon

Bruce initially being the only person allowed to see your locs.

Each kid takes it as a rite of passage when they’re allowed to see your hair as well. You do your best to stress to them not to make it seem like an obligation or some huge sign of your love or anything, but they tend to give it more weight than you want them to regardless.

It’s just that when you’re in your home, and around your people, you can trust your locs to be free.

The first time when the house was quiet (no risk of guests) Bruce suddenly found one night that he was allowed to see your locs after you finally convinced him to get out of the Batsuit and come sleep upstairs in a bed instead of on a cot in the cave.

You don’t make a big deal of it, and he doesn’t comment right then, but he is very pleased.

You and Damian bond over ‘vegan’ dishes and desserts.

There’s plenty of times when you’re making a Caribbean dish ‘vegan’ (ie: compatible with your Ital diet to a natural medicinal-esq degree) that he acts as your taste tester or is the accomplice to any failures you make in the kitchen.

Something about ‘Rasta Pasta’ does vex you, though. There’s just something so antithetical about something that explicitly has ‘Rasta’ in the name having meat in it most of the time that boggles your mind even though it isn’t a big deal.

You share your feelings about this with Bruce and he nods sagely while Duke busts a gut behind him with his hands slapped over his mouth. Duke does think you have a point but the way you’re talking about it and just how seriously Bruce is taking your otherwise trivial complaint is killing him.

Jason picks out pretty wraps for you to wrap your head with from wherever he’s traveled. A lot of them you sew into skirts you buy to make them longer but still give them a personal touch.

Everyone eats your food; no one misses the meat (and all the other things you don’t cook with) and Alfred supremely enjoys the day off from the kitchen because if you're asked to make dinner you’re making breakfast, lunch, snacks, and dessert too.

Dick will come all the way from Bludhaven for your fungi and (meatless) veggie stew, please do not play. You make extra just for him to take home every time.

Bruce loves at night when you’re going to bed and you drop your hair. Loves getting to see your locs knock into your back and fall over your shoulders. Your hair is your crown and Bruce treats it with every bit of reverence it deserves.

Whenever he can he likes to twine his fingers through your locs when you kiss.

On slow days when the Bat isn’t needed and Bruce Wayne doesn’t have to make an appearance you spend the day around each other. You alternate from his office to your bedroom while he works and you oil and retwist your hair on the bed or on the couch in his study.

The two of you have your dumbest conversations on days like these which is how Duke and Damian end up walking in on you both debating the logistics of whether capri pants were an acceptable fashion choice.

Both Duke and Damian sided with you saying they were not, but then Tim walked in on the conversation and - even after explaining your reasoning to him - sided with Bruce saying they were a perfect choice for when you couldn’t decide between shorts or pants.

When Steph passes by the open door she shakes her head at Tim, clicking her tongue like you usually do, and asks you if she can borrow one of your blouses even though you can see it already under her arm.

You make it mandatory that you all go out as a family to connect with nature, not just be around it, and to get some actual sun.

Hikes are absolutely your jam, and it’s not like Bruce likes anything better than to show off for you. Rock climbing in nature, taking trips to swim in the Caribbean, cave explorations, plant scavenger hunts, star gazing, and more are all on the table too when free time comes into play.

You and Bruce also go on regularly scheduled walks (that is when he’s not too torn up to walk) where you take the time to catch up and re-familiarize and ground yourselves through growing your connection even more.

You also have the room — and Bruce is more than happy to give you it — to have a giant garden where you grow a lot of your own food, and you maintain it as a family.

You wake up to pray every morning like clockwork, and Bruce doesn’t join in but he does wake up for a short stint of time to watch you before passing back out.

If there was one thing your husband wasn’t, it was a morning person (within reason, most of the time).

If he is up and moving (and home) when you’re going out he likes to wrap your locs up for you. The first time he offered you raised a brow at him, but he eased the fabric from your hands and turned you around to show you what he meant anyway. When he wraps the fabric around your bundled locs exactly like how you do without any instruction you’re shocked, but the smile you give him afterwards is dazzled enough that Bruce winks at you.

When he’s really calm, usually before he’s about to slip into sleep after a long time running around and plotting as Batman, he’ll go soft and as floaty as he ever does. While one of his hands will be wrapped around you, the other often gravitates towards the wooden ankh you wear (if you still have it on). He winds it between his fingers, playing with the beads that adorn the necklace like he’s in a trance as he presses sleepy kisses to your brown skin.

You pray for him most often when he’s like this, your touch on him soft and your hand a gentle balm in his hair in turn; his life was always on the line after all, and so were your children’s. It couldn’t hurt, that was for sure.

You make the Manor a little louder relatively often; keeping the energy in your adopted home alive (when you don’t have a full house, especially) with the music you play. It’s healing. Makes everyone in the house get a little more energy in their step at the reggae and Caribbean hymns in the background.

Plus, watching Dami’s head bounce to the music when he’s not paying attention is too cute.

Whenever you’re blessed enough to hear (what’s typically) Jason, Steph, or Duke singing familiar lyrics under their breaths or humming well worn and loved tunes, too, you can’t help how your heart swells.

Dick will full on just sing along with you if he’s around, in all his off key glory, and you love that just the same.

You’re in your garden a lot and out of all your kids Cassandra enjoys being out there with you the most. You two often gather from and maintain the garden together in silence. You suspect she likes how visibly non-demanding it is; it gives her brain a break.

Alfred has his roses and you have your produce/aromatics and you share irrigation tips.

You share your beliefs with your crew whenever they ask but are perfectly content to let them choose their own paths in life.

Cass listens to your prayers the most, you don’t think she believes in the Most High (or any ‘higher power’ that people praise for that matter) but you love that she appreciates the messages regardless.

The elites and the press act absolutely ridiculous about you and your natural appearance, but you just don’t pay them no mind and go about your business unbothered. That hatred was their prerogative, not yours; you would not bow to their system, to the machinations of Babylon.

You’re single-handedly making Bruce Wayne (Gotham’s ‘Crown Prince’) smell inarguably like incense; just from him being so obsessed with you and always wanting to be around you as much as possible he’ll smell like any variety of sages to cedars (& etc.).

If there’s anyone that’s going to hasten Wayne Enterprises shifting to more eco friendly practices and renewable energy it’s going to be you. It’s not like you had to do much though, Bruce is pretty advancement friendly on his own.

You start a good amount of community gardens throughout Gotham through W.E. — villians mostly leave them alone outside of Ivy occasionally making the plants mutated enough to ‘come to life’.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!!

I’d like to make it known that most of the information I put here was gained through observation (& some lived experience), but also that while the person I garnered this information from is a Rasta, that they aren’t a particularly ‘traditional’ one, so take that as you will. Also, not every Rasta practices the same way so don’t hold me as a source or anything either.

I’m also a non-Jamaican Caribbean, just fyi.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

Alt. Banner (scrapped) —

[gothamhappiness]

Death can't keep us apart (Part I - f!reader x Bruce Wayne)

Hi everybody, it's been a hot minute since I posted for Bruce Wayne, so here you are. It's a two part very angsty story about Bruce Wayne and his children dealing with your death.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

And by the way, requests for any DC characters you'd like are open.

Warnings: not proof read, ANGST and more ANGST, violence, death (you're shoot in the head), funeral, sadness, grief, no one is dealing well with your death

Everything was going to be alright. 

You were certain Batman was about to arrive. He was coming to save you. You had no doubt about it, even though Riddler had started a timer and at the end of it, a machine would shoot you in the head. But it was going to be okay. You were Batman’s wife, after all. And you had a charity gala to attend that very same night. You were going to be a little bit late, but it would be a fun story to tell about, right? 

You couldn’t imagine how stressed Bruce had to be right now, but everything was going to be alright. 

You had been kidnapped by Riddler, as Bruce Wayne’s wife. He wanted to toy with the billionaire and then the game kept getting more and more violent. He played with Batman to show him he was smarter than him. You were certain your husband was the best though; Riddler couldn’t win. 

He never did before.

And yet tears started to cascade down your face as time was going by. Riddler was taunting you, trying to make you beg him or say that Bruce Wayne was useless to save you. Then he added that you were probably not important enough for Batman to look after you. You replied nothing, your eyes glued to the timer in front of you.

5 minutes left.

4 minutes left.

3 minutes left.

2 minutes left.

1 minute left.

It was pretty obvious you were going to die now, and you hated that you couldn’t tell the man you loved that it was okay. Gotham was a dangerous city, and it wasn’t his fault or his children’s fault if you were going to die that night. You wished you would have told them how much you loved them one last time though. You hoped they were going to be alright without you. But you wanted to believe they were strong and powerful people. They would find a way to survive your loss.

You took one last deep breath before darkness engulfed you. Painlessly.

Batman arrived then. 

Too late.

He had promised himself it would never happen again, not after Jason. He couldn’t endure another time the loss of someone he loved because he didn’t arrive in time, because he hadn’t been good enough, because he failed them. 

He needed to be better and stronger to protect his people. He worked so hard for it. Everyday of his life, his main goal was to become the best.

He thought it was what he did. He thought he was better. He thought he was safe from such a disaster.

And yet, here he was, cradling your dead body in his arms, screaming and crying, begging you to come back to life. 

He had untied you from the chair and had fallen on the ground with you. His protective suit prevented him from feeling how cold your body was slowly getting, but the hole in your head was making things pretty clear and hopeless. His heart was shattered in small pieces, his sanity was so easily slipping away. He was losing himself in your death. Nothing else mattered around him. He couldn’t even hear Riddler asking him why he cared so much about you, about your life, about your dead body. He was clearly surprised to witness such pain from the Dark Knight. Your death hadn’t been entirely planned but it wasn’t his fault if Batman hadn’t been quick enough, was it?

You were just a casualty, nothing more.

Riddler was starting to connect the dots about Batman’s identity and he was so taken aback that he didn’t realise that Nightwing and Batwoman found him. He was soon enough on the ground, beaten up and tied up. Batwoman took him back to Arkham - she couldn’t stand to stay around - as the rest of the family was slowly gathering around you, or what remains of you. They all started to cry and to collapse on the ground, by Batman’s side. They couldn’t lose their sunshine, they couldn’t lose their mother, they couldn’t lose the person they loved the most. They couldn’t believe that something like that happened. They had worked so hard to find you, protect you.

They failed you.

All of them.

It had to be a nightmare, it couldn’t be reality. 

No, no. It couldn’t be you.

They could have stayed like that all night, Bruce tightly hugging you against his chest to prevent the warmth from fully leaving your body. It was then they heard Alfred gently calling out their names. No matter how heartbroken and desperate Alfred was himself, tears silently dripping down his face, he gently reminded them all that they couldn’t stay here. The GCPD was about to arrive and they needed to leave before anyone else could understand what was going on. He also had to remind Batman he needed to leave your body behind. Bruce thought he was going to throw up when he had to let go of you.

“Alfred, I can’t…” Bruce’s broken voice said

“I’m afraid you have to… The GCPD will give her back later on. And we’ll take care of her and her funeral then” Alfred tried to stay logical

The mention of your funeral broke Batman’s legs for a few instants and Dick had to help him stand up. None of them could bear to look at you, but at the same time it felt so wrong to leave you alone in there.

Again.

They didn’t even remember how they managed to come back to the Batcave in one piece. Bruce didn’t know how he managed to take a shower and dress up again, as a civilian this time. He didn’t know how he got enough strength to go to the GCPD and recognise your body. The words “Yes, this is my wife” were the last coherent things he said before starting to silently cry again. Jim Gordon had to help the man get back in his car and asked Alfred to look after his master.

Jim remembered pretty well how Bruce was when his parents died, and he didn’t want to say it, but Bruce looked even worse this time.

The whole family was losing it.

Dick stopped making jokes, laughing, or smiling. He lost another mother. He lost the remains of his innocence.

Barbara was angry. Too angry to be around anyone, to talk to anyone. She blamed herself and wondered if she deserved to still be Oracle.

Jason hid away for a while, not bearing to see anyone either. He tried not to see how alike both your death look like, how he failed you like Batman failed him.

Tim was working on anything he could until losing consciousness from the lack of sleep and food. He needed to forget about this reality and help people.

Stephanie organised your funeral with the help of Alfred. She wanted everything to be perfect for you; you always tried to make things perfect for your family.

Cassandra kept an eye on her whole family, because she couldn’t stand the idea of losing anyone else. And it was obvious they were all falling apart.

Duke started to watch the movies and to read the books you enjoyed and advised him to have a look at. He wished he would have been able to talk about them with you.

Damian was utterly silent. You weren’t his mother, but you always treated him with tenderness and he knew how important you were for everyone. For him.

Alfred thought it was his duty to stay strong, no matter how much he cried at night. He lost his daughter, but he still had a family to care for.

Kate grew half insane with the security of the manor and made sure no one could come and leave the place without her knowing about it.

Lucius and Luke did their best to deal with Wayne Enterprises, so the family could grieve you in “peace”. But they missed you too, dearly.

Everyone felt the burden of the cruel silence your absence created.

Bruce was an even bigger mess. He couldn’t sleep, eat, or do his work anymore. He didn’t care about WE, about the Justice League. What was the point when he had lost his wife? He should have been better.

He went through the whole case over and over again, seeing all the mistakes he made. The mistakes that cost your life. His sanity. His family’s sanity. 

Without Alfred and Cass, he wouldn’t have put on his Batman suit anymore. But they reminded him you wouldn’t have wanted that. So he continued to chase crimes.

The crime rate brutally dropped because of how ruthless and merciless Batman seemed to be. Goons started to be afraid of Batman because the vigilante was suddenly more than happy to break every bone in their body. Bruce knew that violence wouldn’t bring you back, and that it wasn’t helping with his grieving or his sanity, but he couldn’t help it.

The day of your funeral, Bruce wished he could have been buried by your side.

You definitely left this Earth with his heart, because the hole inside his chest seemed to grow a little more every second passing by. He was feeling empty and yet full of the worst pain he ever witnessed.

Empty because you weren’t there anymore.

Pain because your absence was unbearable.

He didn’t have the strength to be there for his children. Your death was tearing everyone apart, even if they were gathered around your grave, even if they were all feeling the same pain. Actually the pain was too deep to allow them to soothe their agony in the presence of the other’s. 

No one could talk, no one could tell how amazing you had been, how much you had been loved. They couldn’t; the sorrow had taken away their voices.

They hated themselves for not having been there in time to save you; they felt guilty, which was only adding to the suffering of your loss. They hated themselves even more for not being able to cherish you one last time.

They felt like there was no coming back.

There was no way to ever get better.

Happiness was over.

If only they had enjoyed it more. If only they had planned more activities to do with you. If only, if only…

Jason killed Riddler that night. He just couldn’t help it. It felt right to get rid of the man who murdered you. It was the justice you deserved, even if you probably wouldn’t have wanted that. You weren’t here to care about it anymore anyway. The GCPD failed to catch Red Hood. And Batman, for the first time, didn’t come when Jim turned on the bat signal. Jason thought Bruce would at least lecture him about it, but Bruce didn’t say anything. 

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. 

Actually, it did feel right for Riddler to be dead too. 

Bruce was watching pictures of you on his phone, tears dropping on his screen.

He heard Damian coming in the living room but he didn’t acknowledge him until Damian whispered “My grandfather might be able to bring her back”.

Hope blossomed again.

Everything was going to be alright.

--

Part 2

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

[bonefanatic]

in which, your son and boyfriend have already met.

(this has nothing to do with my batfam series)

Jason eyes narrow as he glares down at the smaller man. He grits his teeth, seething. He presses further against his Ma, subconsciously trying to hide them from the billionaire.

Bruce offers a small smile, though it's clearly strained and there's a weird look in his eyes.

"You two know each other....?" They're clearly uncomfortable. Their eyes dart between the two men.

"Sadly", Jason grumbles, immediately turn towards them. Bruce watches as the younger man tugs his mother's sleeve, coaxing them to stop.

"It's a long story...", Bruce speaks, his eyes now apologetic.

Jason glances back to his Ma, watching their eyes flick to his. The dots connect and he watches their eyes light up. They tense, looking back at Bruce.

"We have all night. Or is there somewhere else you need to be, Batman?"

[reveluving]

see you soon ; jason todd x batmom reader (ft bruce wayne)

includes: jason's beloved dubbed 'princesa' (can read it as her and/or jason being latina/latino or spanish being jason's 1st/2nd language!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: combining @xoxokirby's jason todd x princesa with my batmom AU in this quick, cute thought because I just love talking about them together 💗

check out my batmom m.list &lt;3

"Alright, so here's the hot chocolate," You carefully passed Jason the heavy double-cup holder, "And in here is your Philly cheesesteak, some soups and your girl's panini sandwich. And I threw in some brownie pudding in there since we had extra. Make sure you don't heat it up beyond forty-five seconds. You're lucky you texted me just as dinner rush started."

While waiting for Jason to come and pick up the orders he had requested you just hours ago, you closed down the necessary so you could head home with Bruce straight away once he finishes his work in the office. Not once had Jason stopped offering on taking you back to the manor first before heading back to his girlfriend at his apartment, but you insisted otherwise.

And how could he say no to his mother?

"Yeah, that's on me," Your son smiled sheepishly, holding the bags of food and drinks with ease, "Y'sure we don't gotta pay up?"

"What makes you think I'm making my own kids pay for food at my café all of a sudden?" You rested your hands on your hips, brows raised as if he had asked the dumbest question ever.

"'m just askin', y'don't have to be so mad. Sheesh," He shrugged, only to dodge your playful smack with a laugh, "Kiddin', kiddin'."

But the big smile on his face remained.

A lot of things make him smile, be it from you, his siblings, Bruce at times or his beloved, but he just couldn't help replaying how you considered his girl one of 'your kids', as if, like him, you just knew she was the one.

"Be sure to tell her about the family dinner that we're having in two weeks." You reminded him, slipping on your gloves before turning off most of the lights. It would be her first dinner with the Waynes, and you wanted nothing more than to have her as a part of your family’s cheesy traditions.

"I will," He nodded, and just as you wondered about the extra joy he was radiating, he hugged you with one arm—the one that was holding the bag of food, "Thanks, ma."

"Oh, Jay," You chuckled, returning the hug with a few pats in his back, "I'm just looking out for my kids."

Just then, you and Jason heard the sound of engine approaching, and lo and behold, the familiar black Aston Martin came into view.

"That's our cue. C'mon," You playfully pushed him from the back, drawing a worried 'ma!', afraid he might drop the food. You just responded to his pout with a cheeky smile before exiting the café, with him waiting for you to lock the door. Winter came in early in Gotham, and the citizens took the opportunity to decorate the city in ways that seemed so... familial.

You opened the passenger door, "Hey." You lit up as Bruce leaned in, his warm lips tickled your cold cheek.

"Sorry I'm late. Tried to finish up some of the last reports before the holidays."

You reassured him, shaking your head as you did, "You're not, I promise. Plus, Jay waited with me."

Bruce looked over at your door, where Jason stood, "Thanks, Jason. Head home safely and don't forget about the dinner, alright?"

"I won't," He nodded curtly as he walked backwards, heading to the alley where he parked his bike, "I'll text y'when I reach home."

"Say hi to princesa for us!" You grinned, waving as you watched your son disappear into the back of the store. You closed the door, turning to Bruce and officially greeting him with a quick but nonetheless sweet kiss, "Hi, you."

"Hi yourself," He sighed in content, leaning in for another kiss as he held the steering wheel, "Shall we?"

"Of course." You replied, and just as your seatbelt clicked into place, Jason drove past you, but not before waving at you and Bruce as he did.

With the end of the year around the corner, you were tired, and so was Bruce. Jason was no different and he didn't doubt that his girl was beat, too.

But it was impossible to suppress the smiles on your faces, knowing that none of you will end the day by your lonesome.

Just a hot drink in hand, a comfy bed to cuddle up in, and your other half to hold onto.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[ynscrazylife]

THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️

— CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batmom!Reader

Series Masterlist

They came for you when you least expected it.

That’s how it always goes, right?

You were on your way home from Gotham’s Police Station, where you worked as one of the best detectives. You were already running late, as you so often did when you were deep into cases, and you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. You knew this city like the back of your hand, even when it was dark out, you could probably navigate home with your eyes closed.

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, wanting to update your husband that you’d be home soon. You already told him that you’d be a little late but you knew how he worried, and how he hated when you tended to push yourself at work with an abundance of cases.

Just as you began to type out a message, a sudden bolt of electricity hit you square in your back. You could hardly form a thought before your muscles locked, body tensing and seizing up, and you collapsed onto the ground, going limp.

Your phone shattered to the floor, the screen cracking as it met the pavement — just like your forehead, blood spilling as you banged your head.

A foot came smashing down on the phone, rendering it completely useless.

“Should we grab the phone? We don’t want anyone to know she’s gone.”

“She built a life for herself here. They’ll know either way, but they won’t get her back.”

Two pairs of arms hauled you up from the ground, dragging you back, legs and feet roughly hitting the sidewalk over and over again. Your wedding ring slips off your finger, falling onto the ground.

“Tell Dreykov we’ve got her. She’s coming home.”

One of the agents pushed a button on their belt. It began blinking and, wish a flash, the three of them — one unconscious — disappeared into thin air.

No one was around to see. It was a rather quiet night.

//

Bruce couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed when you still hadn’t shown up. Usually you’d text him if you were going to have a late night at the office, but you’d gotten to a habit of forgetting to send it over the past few weeks, too engrossed in whatever case was on your desk. Bruce already didn’t think that staying so light and pushing yourself was good for you, the forgotten texts made his stomach twist even more.

“Alfred, you haven’t heard from Y/N, have you?” Bruce asked, already knowing the answer.

His butler fixed him with a regretful, pitying look. He’d heard this question many a time before. “No, Sir. Perhaps one of the children has?” Alfred suggested. They both knew that if you hadn’t texted Bruce, you hadn’t texted anyone else.

Still, Alfred followed his boss into the main living room, where the kids were lounging. “Have any of you talked to your mother?” Bruce asked.

He received shakes of heads and murmurs of no.

Bruce sighed, sinking into his eloquent armchair, gaze resting on the clock as its hands ticked by. It was getting late, even for your standards. Should he be worried? You always scolded Bruce for being too overprotective, but still . . .

“Dad, look!”

Bruce snaps his head to see his son, Damien, standing over at the window. He joins him and the rest of the family crowds around, only to gasp in horror.

There, in the sky, is the unmistakable bat light. But not the usual one. No, this one is red. When the two of you got married, Bruce had a small device inserted into your bands. It would be able to detect a hard fall and, upon doing so, would display that light if you were ever in danger.

Bruce’s heart began pounding.

“Stay here. Alfred is in charge,” he instructed. Even though the kids were worried for their mother and wanted to go out with Bruce, no one dared go against him.

Within minutes, Bruce was suited up and hopping on his motorcycle. The Batmobile was too flashy for this time of night and he had no time to worry about making it invisible. Bruce sped off, not caring how cold or loud the air was was. He raced towards that light, expertly driving down the streets.

Coming to a sharp stop, Bruce sprinted towards where he could see the glint of the band. He looked around widely — the street was barren.

It was only when he got close that he noticed your shattered phone on the ground. This damage couldn’t have been done from a simple drop.

Bruce felt sick. Physically sick.

Something had happened to you. Something bad. There was no ransom, no villain threatening him. He always thought he’d know what to do if anyone he ever loved was endangered, but you had been taken from him.

There was never enough preparation for that.

[ultraxavbo]

I saw this TikTok, and it’s sooo funny, ok I’m going to do a mini pov if this happens with Batmom reader and Bruce Wayne

POV: your husband ( Batman) always makes excuses to buy expensive things to your children.

This week is Jason’s birthday and your dear husband has not stopped seeing every page on the internet trying to find the best gift for his son, even though all our children were raised with luxury, they were never spoiled kids, on the contrary they were always kind and humble children. But it is always difficult for him to buy simple things, since obviously this man was born with all the money in the world and he wants his children to have the best.

You sighed,“Bruce honey, you need to calm down, I don’t think Jason wants a private jet, he just wanted a professional coffee machine”.

“Yes I will buy a coffee machine AND the jet, he deserves a jet so he can go everywhere he wants”.

[gaea-a]

RAGE ;;

[🍃] oh, someone give me the idea :) There will probably be a part two if you guys love this work, hehe

warnings:

pure angst ; fem!reader ; jason todd & mom!reader ; deaths ; Possible spelling mistakes, thanks

...

..

.

You couldn't feel your arms. Your whole body felt numb.

Unlike what many said, killing someone wasn't easy; you wanted to throw up the little you had in your stomach. Your body was shaking.

Your eyes filled with tears; your head was spinning. Your hands were warm from the blood on them.

Your scrambled mind just replayed every single memory you had with Jason. Oh, your little boy. You had promised to protect him the first time Bruce brought him. He was so small, so smart, so beautiful, and so precious.

You remember his first smile. You remember his innocent yet mocking jokes. His witty responses when he responded to your grumpy husband. You remember his little hands 'fixing' your hair, but he had actually put a rose in from the vase—much to Alfred's chagrin, but he still didn't say anything and smiled amusedly.

You remember his beautiful blue eyes shining with excitement when you told him you were going to make his favorite cookies and how he would excitedly exclaim that he was going to help you.

You remember the first time he called you “Mommy” with a loving little smile, showing how he was missing one of his canines due to his baby tooth falling out.

You remember how his cheeks had started to get chubby from all the snacks you gave him and his skin had started to get less pale. He had started to look healthier.

You remember his giggles as he got ready to go out on patrol and Bruce gently scolding him not to run and to be careful.

Your little Jason…

How were you supposed to go on without him by your side? Without your little boy… How is a mother supposed to go on knowing that her son’s killer was on the loose? And her husband, the one who was supposed to have killed the madman, let him go… free.

He was free. That clown, the murderer of your little boy, was free… He escaped from where they had locked him up even though Bruce promised you that that man would never come out again.

‘Liar…’ you thought at that moment.

How was a mother supposed to go on…?

Your pain turned to rage within days. It was a rage that burned you to the bone and made your chest ache from the pressure of heavy emotions laden with deep hatred.

You remember when Bruce brought his small body, oh so small, bruised and lifeless. The heartbreaking scream that left your throat was heard and echoed throughout the cave. Heavy tears fell from your eyes as you clung to his little body and cried inconsolably.

You didn't even realize that your steps took you outside the mansion, taking advantage of your husband and Alfred taking their eyes off you. Your head covered by a heavy, long hood that made you look small. Your red, swollen eyes with dark circles were hidden under the fabric of the hood.

You didn't notice the vibration of your phone; surely they were calling you… but your mind was somewhere else, and your body was moving on its own. It was no longer you.

You didn't notice when you entered the abandoned warehouse where you saw the Joker's henchmen enter. You found it, and yet your unbalanced mind didn't notice any of that. You were just a robot that was looking to find the culprit and make him pay.

You also didn't realize what you were doing when you sneaked out and ambushed the clown from behind with your small knife.

Your pain, your fury, the injustice you felt made you commit a crime.

You killed him.

Your broken, red eyes looked at the body of the clown-dressed man lying there; your hand, still holding the small knife, began to shake. You really did it.

You killed your son's killer.

You didn't know what to do. The fear of seeing Richard's, Barbara's, Alfred's, or Bruce's face when they saw what you did, what your pain made you do. Your breathing became labored; your throat tightened painfully.

Jason… Oh, your little Jason, what would he think of you right now… Would he be scared to see what you became?

You fell to your knees as a broken sob left your broken lips. The knife was still in your shaking, bloodstained hand.

You had nothing left to live for… Your life was destroyed, in rubble. One way or another, nothing would be the same; you consoled yourself, but it was only a pathetic attempt to calm yourself down.

Silently you raised your hand to your throat, closing your eyes, remembering your little Jason. The memory of his smile made your pain lighter. At least you did justice… at least it was all over. You asked everyone for forgiveness for abandoning them too… just like Jason abandoned you.

You took a breath before bringing the small knife to your throat.

But before the knife managed to make contact with your skin and you managed to take your life, someone's body crashing into you stopped you, causing the small knife to fall from your grasp…

[blackcupidangel]

Batboys as TikTok’s:

This is one of the rarest moments where they’re not boxing for the front seat. (Batmom has definitely had the talk of leaving the house with decorum with them.) However when you’re a mother with everything under the sun in that purse, plus impatient children…..She has definitely scolded them for breaking the door handle once.

(Thank you to @jinxywinksy for sending this to me.)

[alienguts]

To a Man's Heart (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce keeps forgetting to eat.

Warnings: None unless food counts

Request?: No

A/N: It turns out that I don't like to describe people eating.

Y/N and Bruce had been together for so long that they knew each other inside and out. Every little habit and quirk was accounted for and as soon as something was off, they knew something was wrong.

But there was one thing that Y/N just could not fully understand: how it was possible for Bruce, one of the most ripped and athletic men she’d ever met, to go without food for so long. She’d known guys who played sports in high school who never stopped eating, but there were times when she’d seen Bruce eat three bites of a sandwich in an entire day before heading out on patrol.

It was roughly 8pm when Y/N descended the steps into the Cave, her slippered feet softly clanking against the steel. Bruce had told her earlier that day that he wasn’t planning to go out on patrol and had sent the boys instead, but she still didn’t expect to find him at the computer in deep concentration. She almost hoped that he wouldn’t notice her almost creeping up behind him, but of course nothing got past Bruce, even without all of his detective equipment.

“What’re you doing down here?” he asked as he turned around in his chair to see her.

“Just checking up on you,” she said as she made her way across to him. “I know you’re usually quiet but I never heard from you all night.”

He smiled warmly and held his arms out to her so she could climb into his lap. “Sorry, I’ve just been so engrossed in this case I forgot to go back upstairs.”

Y/N let herself be pulled into his warm chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder, not realising how much she’d missed his touch after not seeing him all day. He wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her arms and shoulders. She felt like she was just about to drift off to sleep when a low growling sound snapped her out of her daze.

Not again.

“Bruce, when was the last time you ate something?” she asked as she pulled herself up to look at him.

“What?” Bruce asked, as if it was a ridiculous thing for her to ask him.

“When was the last time you ate something?” she asked again, slower.

He was quiet for a second, the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to remember. “Maybe around noon? I’ve spent more time working than thinking about food, Y/N.”

Y/N let go of him and stood up before grabbing his hands and tugging on them. “C’mon, we’re gonna get you something to eat,” she said. She could feel him trying to resist, but he knew better than to try to stop her from getting him to take care of him.

Bruce let her pull him to his feet, his joints stretching out from sitting down for so long, and followed her back up the stairs to the Manor. The warmth of the study hit both as soon as the hidden door slid open and light from the sun filtered into the doorway. Even though it was only 8 ‘o clock, it was still light out and birds were singing outside. 

After spending all day underground in the Cave, Bruce welcomed the quiet of the Manor and could feel himself relaxing with each step they both took through the study. The hum of electronics slowly faded out of earshot as they made their way out of the study and towards the kitchen, their footsteps echoing around them.

Once they’d reached the kitchen, Y/N guided Bruce to sit at the table before going to the fridge and opening it.

“What’re you in the mood for?” she asked as she studied the fridge’s contents.

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he said and got up to stand behind her. “You know I’m not picky.”

“Bruce, I already had dinner.”

The fridge was relatively bare, considering that it was the day before she and Alfred did the grocery shopping and they had a full house of vigilantes to feed. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on an almost empty pack of bacon, along with some leftover lettuce and tomatoes.

“I could make you a BLT,” she offered, looking over her shoulder at Bruce.

He leaned down to softly kiss the top of her head. “BLT sounds wonderful,” he said.

Even though she usually insisted that Bruce not help her in the kitchen, Y/N let him slice the tomatoes and lettuce for her while she cooked the bacon. She knew Alfred wouldn’t be happy if there was a small kitchen fire and she wasn’t willing to take the chance. Thankfully, he’d managed to do it without cutting himself or making too much of a mess.

Clearly some of his swordsmanship translates to the kitchen, Y/N thought as she assembled the sandwich and plated up. They sat side-by-side at the table, and as soon as Y/N gave Bruce his plate, he took one half of the sandwich and handed the other half to her.

“No, Bruce, it’s yours,” she said as she tried to push his hand away.

“You should eat something too,” he said before taking a bite of his half.

“I already ate, you have it.”

He shrugged and continued to eat, almost wolfing the sandwich down. Obviously he was hungrier than he’d thought before.

“Is it okay?” Y/N asked. “I know I’m not as good a cook as Alfred is.”

“It’s delicious,” Bruce said, giving her a warm smile. “You are a good cook, miles better than I could ever be.”

“It’s just a sandwich Bruce,” she said bashfully, “how hard can it be to get right?”

“Trust me, I would know,” he said through his last bite. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s kind of my job to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Well, I’d say you’re doing a great job,” Bruce said as he stood up to put his plate in the sink. “What would I do without you?”

“Same as you did before, leave whatever Alfred makes you go cold.”

Bruce laughed and came back to the table to gather Y/N in his arms.

“See, this is why I married you,” he said as he gently pulled her to stand. “You make me food, and you make me laugh.”

Y/N returned his hug and buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent and letting him take over her senses.

“You’ve been sitting at that computer all day,” she said when she lifted her head up. “You needed a break.”

He hummed in agreement. “I think I’m gonna call it a day,” he said. “This case isn’t that urgent and the boys are dealing with patrol.”

“Does that mean you’ll come watch a movie with me?” Y/N asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Bruce smiled and leaned down to gently kiss her forehead. “Yes it does,” he said. “Just don’t be surprised if I fall asleep on you.”

Y/N let go of him and took his hand again to lead him to the living room. “I don’t mind if you fall asleep, at least I get to spend some time with you.”

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spider and Bats Snippets 2

[0.] [1.]

I headcanon Spider!(Y/N) meets Clark/Superman on accident before Batman does.

Just, imagine. Your heading to a part time job, super excited about it! Get on the bus, and wait... Then fall asleep..

The bus driver kicks you out at the Mertropolis bus station. Not good! You don't have enough for a ticket back to Gotham so you managed to get a part-time job at The Daily Planet, as the coffee runner! Simple enough?

Bumping into a meek Clark Kent, who is shyly thanking you for his cup of joe'. Then you, eagerly wanting a new friend in a strange enviorment, (again), asking about what he's writing.

"Wow Kent, didn't expect you to snag the new girl."

Lois teased light-heartedly. "Oh, ha-ha it's nothing like that. They're a good friend."

He shrugs it off as Lois shakes her head. "Sheesh, a lot of fella's make a LOT of trouble with that word. Good luck Smallsville."

Blinking in confusion, you were suprised she didn't notice you as you walk up beside him. "Huh... Wait, you think were good friends!?" You beam in awe at Clark, happily spinning around his desk chair. "Clark! You should of said something sooner!"

You let go, now thoughtful. "Hmmm, we should do friendship bracelets then.. I mean, I did make one with another friend of mine.. OH! I got an' idea-" "-Guh.. I-I think I.. Need to rain check.."

"Hm? What's wrong? You look dizy... Vomit-y."

I know there's different versions of how Batman met Superman. Personally, I perfer The Animated Series Ver!

I would like to think, Robin and Nightwing asked her to get Superman's autograph as a casual comment if Spider(Y/N) went to Mertropolis.

So during her "stay" at the other city, she'd often patrol and help a bit when she could.

Would totally meet Supes' on acident.

"Wow! Hello! Why is your city so much cleaner? I like your cape! Reminds me of Miguel-!" You try to descalate the situation.

You happily greet him, babbling as your buddy glared at you. You shrug at Batman's gaze, giving him a slight push. Herding him close to your side incase of any... Bad, course of action, between you and the supposed "Man of Steel".

Superman paused at the greeting, after thrown into a wall. He expected more hostily from you as well, since he read most crime-fighters were, due to the Gotham Gazette. Yet you seemed more occupied with keeping the Batman away from HIM.

Using his x-ray vision, he peaked underneath your masks.

"Bruce Wayne..." He mumbled under his breath as Batman shoved you to the side. Glaring at the super-powered male, "You peeked.."

"Hm? He did what?" You weren't paying attention, more focused on the destruction and damage. Frowning worriedly, knowung your "unexpected vaction" would meet it's end.

Superman The Animated Series: Season 1 Ep 16 - World's Finest Part 1

I can see Spider!(Y/N) being pen-pals with lot's of heros and vigilantes. Possibly even anti-heros and villians?

Carefully web-shooting the civillians away, you keep squint as you watch them dance in sync. Slightly envious, before shooting a glance at Batman.

He collapsed as groups of Music Meisters pawns held him down. Grunting as he tried to move away. You used your web to toss them away quickly. Huffing as you glanced down at your comrade.

Even with the ear-plugs, you couldn't help it!

As if spotlight shone on your cue, you sang encouragingly. Smiling underneath your mask, you hold out a hand to him. He grasps it as you slowly pull him up.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ."And you can rise above...!" ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

The Brave and the Bold Season 1 Episode 25 Mayhem of the Music Meister!

We all know that THEE Batman has a certain type.

But this is for fun, so, (。ゝ(ェ)・)-☆

Overall, I stated perviously, it's more a comedic pairing that has many set-ups to be serious.

Watching Catwoman flee once more, you walk to Bat's side. Standing beside him politely, before.. Slowly... Reaching out your hand to his. Holding it firmly with no caution.

The vigilante glares at the action, yet you don't let up as he tries to shake your hand away.

You giggle as you watch your arm swing with his, your laughter becoming louder as he finally gave in.

Batfam relationship depends on if Spider!(Y/N) came before or after the Batfam was formed.

Personally, I perfer it before. I feel like it would show growth in Bat's and Spiders dynamic.

I sorta wanna explore it, but if ya'll got ideas Im open to it.

-

{Yay! Another self-indulg work! Lol. I was inspired once again, I really just love that more people are intrested in the idea than just myself! Horray! Comments, art, reblogs are always wanted! This is purely for fun! If anyone gets the easter egg I put, let me know!}

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE WAYNE | BATFAMILY (generalized fanon)

—

Going to Carnival w/ Bruce + some of the other bats (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship(s), BATMOM, vigilante coordination, fluff, vacation, caribbean setting, civilian shenanigans, dancing, ✨the Fox Family ✨ -caribbean!reader

Mind my choppy ass yanking; it’s the story of my life, just go with it. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Pic source — Batman Vs Robin & Justice League: War DCAMU)

In true Bruce fashion he does extensive research for the occasion. He wants everything to go perfectly and can’t help but to obsess like the Batman he is.

He has to plan every last detail to make sure you have a brilliant time on your trip, obviously, but he also needs to make sure things with the rest of the Bats, Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, and Arkham and Blackgate facilities will be okay while he’s gone. Gotham cannot fucking explode, implode, none of that shit while he’s on vacation; Bruce would never forgive himself.

Before you leave you give Bruce strict instructions that there is to be no working during your trip unless an emergency comes up. Predominantly - not wanting to disrupt what Dick has going on away from Gotham without good reason - you ask Jason to pull on the cowl for a day or two, to expand his usual patrol route as Red Hood, to keep in active contact with Stephanie (and maybe Kate), and to coordinate more closely with Barbara while Bruce is away.

In return for them picking up Bruce’s slack (more than usual, considering your husband has blind spots in his vigilantism that you are under no delusions about) you promise everyone something.

Steph her first handcrafted silver sterling bangle, Jason some fresh preserved lemongrass (some of which you’ll have to smuggle probably; but Bruce had a private jet for a reason and bringing regional herbs back to the States for his crime lord son, as someone who amounts to a long standing criminal himself, was by far the least illegal thing he’d done ever), to cover Barbara’s shifts as Oracle on coms for a few days while she’s away with the Birds of Prey, and to bring Kate back an island made covah/muumuu (in maroon) for the favor she was doing you.

Kate’s involvement at all is mostly due to her having been in the city by chance as Bruce was setting his vacation plans in motion; her and Luke happening to have just finished up their own mission overseas.

Superman is also aware that Bats is out of the country and is keeping an ear out (though he isn’t supposed to intervene without Jason or Babs asking with the exception of anything catastrophic happening so Superman isn’t indisposed without good reason). Neither you, nor Bruce, had needed to ask him either. Clark had heard all about how much Bruce was driving himself and, as a result, you up the wall for your (much needed in Bruce’s case) vacation from Lois after you’d spent half of Girl’s Night with her, Tanya, and Iris bemoaning your partner’s paranoia.

He’s straight up bemused when he's informed about Batman being “indisposed” for a week, but agrees to look out for the gloomy city while he’s away, and is smirking when he reminds Bruce to try letting that stick go lax for once while he’s in the tropics with you.

Bruce flushes to his ears and you laugh until you start to hack up a lung, hanging off of him as he holds you up by the waist and glares at his best friend. Clark plays dump like a master though, and eventually Bruce just has to grumble about him as you drag him back to the car to finish some last minute planning in Gotham.

Really, far too much work goes into just Bruce alone taking this trip with you. You can’t even imagine the hassle getting the other Bats you're close to down to your island for a visit will be.

You only get stopped by a handful of people during the trip as a whole (mostly visiting Americans), but the majority of people don’t recognize Bruce since he’s Gotham royalty. Because of this he doesn’t have to put on the Brucie persona outside of whatever expensive suite you’re staying in, and he doesn’t have to be Batman during the trip either, which helps him relax significantly better since he can just be Bruce. Like this he gets to be a regular person more than he’d usually get the opportunity to be when spending mundane civilian time as a couple (and as a family) in public.

The moment Damian sees more than two wild dogs Bruce and you have to pull out the ‘no picking up strays’ lecture because even through the rear view mirror you can see the glint in his eyes.

Bruce plans for Damian (and Duke, if he’s able to pull him away) to attend Children’s Parade. If Duke comes he squints at you the second the announcer explains which event exactly he’s at, but you just stare at him right back and remind him that he is a child and that he needs to get up out your face and go do child shit already.

Damian is rather worse, but you lead the group closer to the steelpan players warming up and soon his complaining is drowned out by the beginnings of music. He stops speaking to glower at you and you only raise a brow alongside Bruce before he eventually gives in with a huff. Duke pats him on the back and leads him away to ‘go do child shit’.

Damian likes the parade, even at fourteen he’s not too old for that much despite the clear interest he tries to play off. And while he’s not going to be mystified by the Moko Jumbies (which you didn’t expect him to be) the fourteen year old does fully lock onto them when they come walking by and playing around on their stilts and decked in their colorful clothing and madras.

Cass agrees to come (mostly because she likes you, and also because Duke pouted about it) and ends up loving the majorettes. She follows every single group and cheers within her own limits the entire time.

Cass follows so closely to the steelpan players during their performance that you’re genuinely worried for her eardrums until you glance at Bruce worryingly and he gestures to his ears in explanation. Ear plugs; shed be alright.

Cass (and Luke) leave to go deal with some business that needs her that the Outsiders are dealing with, and instructs you fully to keep Bruce out of the loop until you get back from the trip, poking fun at Bruce before she leaves to go flaunt her expertise.

Duke is disappointed she’s going and that he won’t be able to meet up with the Outsiders again, but when you try nudging him to leave he shoots you down. They didn’t need him, he reasons. Plus, it was rare he ever got a true break from being Signal so he planned on taking advantage of the occasion— and vehemently stomping down the misplaced guilt he was feeling bcs of that with some help from Bruce.

Duke doesn’t tell you, and neither does Damian, but your youngest isn’t as aggrieved as he *thinks* he should be about the break from fighting villains and running around on rooftops that he’s taking either, even more so than Duke right then.

After Cass is gone you guys lose Duke and Dami for a solid three hours. Most every call to them is answered, but only with a cryptic reassurance that they aren’t doing anything illegal. When they finally do come back they keep mum about what they were up to but smell suspiciously of soot.

Bruce fully suspects that they managed to get into the building where the fireworks and pyrotechnics are being kept. You give the boys a stern look but make Bruce let it go since nothing actually managed to go up in flames, and because you’re sure they had a good reason (*cue mom glare*).

Duke might not be your son but he still helps Damian bribe you with some of the foods you haven’t been able to have as authentically in Gotham until you convince Bruce to let them run off again.

Shock of all shocks (not) Damian prefers coconut tarts.

Duke wants to like the pineapple tarts — because it’s “on brand” — but it’s the guava that wins him over.

Unlike his son Bruce is not a fan of any of the tarts, but you’ve long realized that he likes less obtrusive sweet things like banana fritters more.

Damian and Duke at random intervals intercept you and Bruce walking around to inquire about certain murals, art installations, or statues that you’re passing.

Duke also steadily extracts a promise from you to put together a playlist with all the soca music playing around ayo during the parade in it for him to listen to whenever he’s in a music mood. Shazam just wasn’t moving fast enough for him to collect the songs himself while also running around.

By the end of the night (ayo have been out since Carnival started) Duke has his face painted, there’s confetti in his hair, and he’s legitimately ready to go to sleep due to how hard he'd been ramping all over the place. In comparison, Damian’s neck is decorated with beaded necklace after beaded necklace, he’s eaten more tarts than you could keep track of, and is still as ready to conquer the night as ever.

Neither boy particularly likes the fireworks, though Duke is more forgiving since he’s mostly just tired. Bruce likes seeing the way you light up though. While you don’t stay all the way through the show you do stay for a good while because Bruce loves you and wants you to enjoy yourself.

You and Bruce attend Adult’s Parade on your own. Though you’re sure that the boys are getting up to trouble, also running off from where you’re all staying, since you only really have Lucious and Tanya free enough to verbally check up on and keep an eye on Damian and Duke (and their trackers). Lucious had volunteered to keep closer track of their positions during his months long leave — rather than Barbara having to do so when she needed to focus more on coordinating everyone back in Gotham — and Tanya hadn’t minded. It wasn’t like checking in actually stopped her and her husband from doing anything. Bruce promises them a care package anyway.

Bruce wouldn’t really like dancing in the parade circuit or being a part of a troop. He’d much rather prefer the other days of Carnival to attend with you specifically: live concert days, cultural nights, art galleries, and most especially touring any of the island's historical sights.

He’s not as generally excited about the food, but he does love (if you’re inclined) how partial you are to the options presented by all the food vendors and is more than willing to indulge you.

If there’s one available he’ll sign you guys up for a sightseeing relay race as a surprise. How good or bad of a surprise you view the race through your island’s various monuments and beaches depends on you. Honestly, there’s a high chance you didn’t even know they held a race for the event season.

All of these things are just a much more mellow way for Bruce to connect with you and for you both to share in your culture.

He will, however, absolutely not deny you going to dance with a troop at all despite participating in the parade not being his thing. Depending on what you want he either won’t or will come (and if he doesn’t it’s bcs you’ve gone with your friends or whatever), but if he does come Bruce will under no circumstances dance in front of so many people when he’s not having to put on the Brucie persona (which he certainly doesn’t want to put on whilst on vacation).

Mostly Bruce just goes with you but doesn’t dance (it’s hard to follow/track people on the sidelines behind gates and/or between people sitting or standing on the sides of the street to watch the parade).

Mostly lets you dress him begrudgingly. Though he does like matching with you he still isn’t used to being dressed so loudly and inconspicuously.

Bruce is dressed for the weather (only in all red) and wearing shades. His hair is all fluffy without any product in it and he’s wearing fishnets and streams of ribbons that match the ones you’re wearing with your full getup of colorful billowing fabrics, short clothes, and sequin adornments in matching with your troop/section of the parade and the band you’re dancing with.

He’s perfectly happy to hold onto things for you and others if need be and is otherwise not broody or anything. Even just getting him to have a little bounce in his step while walking with you is a win that’s easy to come by.

Bruce is also an absolute sight in fishnets. If the tabloid and gossip mags could see his abs in the colorful sleeveless fishnet “shirt” he’s got on under his short sleeve button up they’d be losing their minds as much as you are. He looks very nice and you tell him as much when you’re pinning and draping streams of colorful madras and printed fabric to the shoulders of his shirt.

In turn Bruce literally pauses mid call, earpiece in, when you come out of the bathroom dressed in your Carnival gear (or outfit, if you’re not a part of a more strict troop). In your shorts and colorful ribbons and ting you’re a vision and he nearly forgets to end his call before crowding you for a kiss.

The ribbons you’re wearing, and that you’ve pinned to Bruce as well, are traditionally reminiscent of maypole ribbons that your forebears had stripped the poles of in order to wear them in celebration of their freedom.

As opposed to wearing comfortable sneakers you’re in the pair of practical combat boots Bruce got you that you’ve decorated to be on theme with the rest of your getup. He is also in those same boots in his own size.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing feathers and an intricate headpiece then Bruce is wearing an approximation of your costume too. He’s still dressed in an expensive pair of board shorts and a linen short sleeve button down, but now he’d be in all black with his only pops of bright colors being from the parts of his outfit that match what you’re wearing. You’re both wearing matching arm/leg bracers & the same feathers you used have been adorned to make a little crown at the back of his head like the one you’re wearing.

Bruce is decked out with jewel accents and sequins too and you're almost shocked at how much he’s indulged you by the time you're finished getting him ready.

To match with the brightly colored boot covers you’re wearing to match the main feathers of your troop’s costumes you give him similarly colored ribbons to tie to the tops of his boots. It’s cute, and you tell Bruce as much just so you can see him blush.

No matter how you’re dressed Bruce stays compliant as you help get him together; letting you talk in circles at his continued prompting about the history steeped into the event you’re getting ready for. His voice is soft as he leads you into explaining the reasons behind the various things you’re decorating him with for the celebration.

Because Bruce isn’t fully matching with the troop he stays at the back of the line (though this does depend on how strict the troop is). You move throughout as you please while dancing and looking uniform with the other women you’re with, but you still gravitate back into Bruce’s orbit intermittently as well.

Bruce absolutely lets you dance on him even though he’s not dancing himself, and he also brings wipes for whenever you drop down to your hands to wukup with your hands to the ground and ass to the air or lose your balance while dancing low to the ground and have to catch yourself.

He loves watching, and he is both happy you’re happy and very eager to get you alone again. You don’t have to hold back or tamp yourself down with Bruce.

If you’re less built for long term walking, or older and been with Bruce for a hot minute, you’re going to end up on Bruce’s back at some point, your knees just aren’t up for the journey the way your spirit is. He’s happy to carry you, and it’s his insistence when he sees you starting to limp or asking for whatever walking aid you might have that gets you hanging off his shoulders in the first place.

You are absolutely no less wutless up there, however, and Bruce only laughs and hikes you up more securely as you cheer and wukup and wine your waist as he’s carrying you. This was a celebration of freedom and emancipation after all, you were going to be as excited and hype as you could possibly be.

From your new vantage point you kiss him on the cheek too and he’s smiling ear to ear the whole time.

When you go to the other events outside of the parades Bruce is more of an active participant.

At concerts Bruce hums. He’s not somehow immune to music or anything, and he tends to hum whenever he lets his mind wander no matter how scarcely he actually allows himself to relax that thoroughly even when you’re back in Gotham. So you’re not shocked when he starts humming while you’re enjoying the live concert music.

When he becomes attuned enough to the rhythms he sways, movements unhurried and gentle, and pulls you closer until you’re both rocking. His arms wrapped around your middle, his warmth at your back, and voice in your ear are a greater balm to your spirit than most anything else on the entire planet and you let Bruce support a lot of your weight as you sing along to the musical acts you're familiar with.

He’s stiff as a board the second you try dragging him into full blown dancing, however. You only laugh at him staring at you like you’re about to announce he’s Batman to the whole of the island, and you know it’s about time you guys find some place to sit down (and hopefully eat) since you’ve been out since daybreak.

Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas, so it is near impossible to get his backside drunk by any normal means. Due to this you don’t really end up drunk either, you just end up feeding him sips of half shots of different flavors of rum and have a blast as he rates them while ayo laugh together and listen to people pound melee around you and eat your dinner.

Come to find out Bruce cannot stand coconut rum. You’re thinking coconut and him just don’t agree, and vow to crack one open fresh so he can try some coconut jelly as the real test of his preference.

Throughout the entire trip Bruce actually likes the tan he develops, no matter how used you both are to his Gotham pallor.

The darker, richer, sheen to the brown plains of your skin that you develop over the course of the trip throws Bruce similarly into a tailspin as his tan does you. He loves it, and your new shine coupled with just how much more radiant your excitement at being back in your element has made you has him calling you all variations of beautiful more often than is even his usual (which is saying something because your husband can’t get enough of you and makes a point of never letting you forget).

You also catch Bruce checking in on everyone’s nighttime activities back in Gotham two days in and can only sigh as you press his computer closed and cock your eyebrow at him. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed, grunting a short excuse before he apologizes. The rest of your trip goes on without a hitch after that, however (as far as you know).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I’m nervous about this one, I’m not even going to lie, but whatever.

Anyway, I have other characters I want to put in this type of scenario as well so let me know if there’s anything specific you’d maybe like to see. This isn’t all encompassing either, but just what’s come to me by now.

Also, I want to write for the Foxes, but I’ve got to read up on them more before then so it’ll be a while. Also also, we’re going to pretend like all of these characters’ lives are actually stable — and that Tanya in particular doesn’t despise masked vigilantes because I’m allowed to want that (tho that might only be Future State timeline shit so idk).

This fic has a series tag so if you’d like to read the other festival/carnival entries then clicking on that tag would be how you’d find them.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean words of the Day (ie: the glossary):

“Ayo” (pronounced “īˈyō” 2 syllables) — meaning and use equivalent to “you all” or “y’all”. There’s also a greater origin to where the word as a whole comes from but I’m not going to get into all of that rn.

“Nuh Raas” — I don’t really have a direct translation for this one; the most I can do is compare its use to “like fuck” or “as hell” and other comparative sayings like those. It’s a way to further exaggerate something; think “very”.

EX: “Bruce’s tolerance is very high.” = “Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas.” 🤷🏾‍♀️

“Pound Melee” — the action of gossiping; seriously talking other people’s business or talking shit.

“Wutless” — Meaning ‘troublesome’; a

Caribbean slang, also means to not care profoundly about anything, and just having a hell of a time not caring what anyone says or thinks of you. (def taken from here, though I spelt it differently bcs that how I hear it)

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean*

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - His denial (Part VIII)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 //

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of crying several times, hard times for reader and for Bruce, language, ANGST and more ANGST

“You know Ma, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me what happened between you and Bruce, but we’re all wondering why you broke up with him?” Jason asked you as he was helping you prepare a meal for the two of you. “Also, everyone's a little bit worried you won’t be our mother figure no more.” he added

“I’ll send a message on our group chat to let you kids know that I’m still there for you, no matter what happened between Bruce and I.” you replied instantly. 

You loved those kids as if they were yours and you were eager to keep taking care of them, even if it wasn’t at the manor anymore.

“Good to know,” Jason hummed and kissed your cheek. 

He would have been devastated if you had run away from his life, like all the adults that were supposed to care for him - apart from Alfred, of course. And he was well aware that all the other children - adopted or not by Bruce - loved you. You were bringing some peace and joy in everyone’s lives. That was why they nicknamed you “Hope” for when they talk to you over the comm’s. 

“And I didn’t break up. We agreed on it, Bruce and I.” you finally said, to which Jason arched an eyebrow. 

“Really? That’s not what he said”.

“Well, we agreed that I’m a civilian and that it was making things too difficult. Bruce has also been very busy and… I don’t know, maybe it was just not working anymore” you explained, trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible.

You had spent the whole night crying over this break up. You had never been heartbroken like that before. You loved Bruce like you never loved anyone before. You just didn’t want to resume crying in front of Jason.

“Bruce can be an asshole… But I really don’t think he meant to make you feel neglected” Jason frowned

“Are you taking his defence now?” you softly teased to hide your sadness away

“No, never. Just… He loves you” Jason whispered

“I don’t think so. But that’s okay. I never thought I’d date someone for so long anyway. And I’ve meet all of you, and I’m very grateful for that”

“Ma…” Jason started but you cut him off

“I don’t really want to keep talking about him” you said and Jason dropped the subject

You did your best to forget about this conversation. You didn’t want to hear the little voice in your head saying that maybe Bruce was still in love with you, but was too stupid to let you know about it. 

You managed to push the voice away, until during an interview with Bruce Wayne, the journalist asked him if it was true you were not together anymore. You hadn’t meant to watch this interview, but your boss needed you to write an article about it. At the question, you couldn't help but fully focused on the TV and you caught a glimpse of vulnerability flashing across Bruce’s face. Only people who knew him well enough could have seen it. He quickly smiled at the journalist. 

“We’re only taking a break, nothing permanent” he instantly replied and you stared at the TV, thinking “wait what??” 

“Oh so, you’re not open to any new relationship?” the journalist asked “A lot of women in Gotham are eager to know if they have a chance with you or not. Men too. And everyone else, really”.

Bruce softly chuckled, but you could tell he was actually quite uneasy

“No, I’m not open to any new relationship. I still belong to Y/N.” he replied and you started to cry again.

You hated him for lying so blatantly in front all the whole city. He didn’t belong to you, you would know otherwise. You felt so sad, so angry. You hated yourself for having fallen for a man like him.

“Belong to? Quite a strong expression. Are you in love, Mr. Wayne?” the journalist hummed in interest

“Now I believe you didn’t ask me to come to talk about my romantic relationship” Bruce quickly changed the subject, but no need to say you started to cry even harder.

Of course he wouldn’t say he loved you, because he didn’t. You didn’t want to be such a mess again so you turned the TV off.

But a few instants later you received messages from the kids asking you if it was true that it was just a break and that you would come back home at some point. They were all so adorable, saying they understood if you needed to take a breath from the Batfamilly, especially when things were so difficult in Gotham. They promised to keep protecting you no matter what anyways.

You had no idea what to answer at first. You didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Eventually you told them the truth: “I’ve told you I’m still there for you as well, and I’m touched you are all so eager to have me back at the manor… But in all honesty, I’m not too certain what is going on and why Bruce said all of this. I don’t want to talk to him, but I guess you can ask him directly”

No need to say that everyone was pretty disappointed in your answer and that none of them asked about it to Bruce.

You didn’t want to go back to the manor. You didn’t want to run into Bruce. You thought several times to ask the children to grab your belongings for you, but it would mean for them to come into Bruce’s room and the man wouldn't be happy about it. They were welcomed to come into his room only when they needed help or reassurance after a nightmare. You could also tell that the children didn’t know how to deal with the break up.

You didn’t want to force them to be in between Bruce and you. 

Unfortunately you needed clothes from his place because you were soon going out of Gotham for a couple of days. You waited until the last minute to finally go back to the manor.

Everyone was out, except Alfred who greeted you with a warm smile. His smile flattered when you told him you needed to take some belongings from there. He didn’t stop you. However you were certain that he sent a message to Bruce.

You were in a pretty dark mood. Your mother had discovered your father wasn’t dead. You were a little bit surprised that the Batfamilly wasn’t on the case yet. Maybe Falcone did a good job to hide things away. Or maybe no one wanted to deal with something that might end up hurting you. 

Either way, you knew things were going to be hard and your mother was going to hate you for having lied to her about your father. You wished things would have been better with Bruce, because you would have loved to have someone with you. You didn’t want to drag the children in this mess, so once again it was you alone against your past.

You jumped when you heard Bruce’s soft voice talking to you. You had been so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard him gently opening the door.

“What are you doing?” he leaned against the door frame to seem relaxed but you could tell he was watching you with great intensity and concern.

You wouldn’t have believed it if he would have told you, but watching you removing your belongings from your shared room was eating him up alive. He needed all his willpower to not prevent you from doing so. When you resumed your action of packing away, he felt his chest tightened.

“Packing. Need to go see my mom. Some stuff happened with my dad… And I need to deal with this mess.” you explained

“Anything I can do?” he offered

“Of course not. You have enough to deal with anyways.” you shrugged “By the way, I won’t be able to grab everything right away, so I’ll probably come back for the remaining things. Obviously you can send everything to my flat if you don’t want me to come again” you added, looking for a brief instant back to him

“Look, Y/N, I guess this isn’t the right time to speak with you, but can we maybe plan something for when you’ll be back to Gotham?” Bruce offered, almost pleading with you

“You mean to speak about how we went from “we agree to break up” to “you break up” and finally to “this is just a break”, Bruce?” You paused and turned around to fully watch him this time. 

Bruce moved a hand into his hair. He had no idea how to fix your relationship.

“You broke up. For my answer to the journalist... It was just easier to say that” Bruce tried and you rolled your eyes at him. 

He internally cringed, why wasn’t he able to say the right thing when he was already missing you so dearly?

“Whatever, Bruce.” you finally said

“So yes for a date when you’ll be back?” he insisted

“Whatever, Bruce” you said again which hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

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PART 9

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