#batman x pregnant reader

[vee6lolz]

𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

[twilight-orchid]

The Shopping Trip

Jason Todd x Pregnant Reader

Word count 1,437

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, cursing, brief sexual reference

Part 1 Part 2

Ever since your pregnancy began to show, Jason was on you like a hawk. You wince from the pressure on your back, he’s there with lotion to give you a massage. You’re too sick to eat, he goes out of his way to make you something you can keep down. He made sure you got enough sleep, bought all of your cravings no matter what time or weather condition, waited on you hand and foot, and was happy to sit there and hold you when you sobbed at whatever triggered your hormones.

Sure, he was doting and sweet, but he was also protective and possessive; traits highly exasperated by the fact you were carrying his kids. Lord help anyone who even looked at you the wrong way, your giant guard dog of a fiancé had a hand on your hip and was staring daggers in seconds. Any time you left the house he was at high alert. You thought it was endearing to a point. However, the way he currently surveyed the Babies-R-Us as you entered like he was on an undercover mission was a bit excessive. He held your hand tight, as if he were afraid someone would whisk you away at any moment.

He grabbed a cart then stopped once you were a bit into the store.

“Alright, game plan.” He said, turning to you.

“Cribs, car seats, a stroller, blankets, towels, bouncers, tummy time pillows, highchairs, clothes, bottles, diapers, toys, bibs, pacifiers.” You read off the list on your phone.

“Damn that’s a list.” He muttered. You snickered, your hands dropping to rest on your 6-month rounded belly.

“Maybe next time you won’t break the condom.” You whispered teasingly.

“I don’t think I recall hearing any complaints at the time. And that night I remember every detail of.” He said lowly, his voice slipping into that sexy growl of his that helped get you in this situation to begin with. He loved how the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away from him, your lip between your teeth as you too remembered the night in question. He chuckled at your flustered face before he decided you’d had enough.

“Alright, alright doll. After you.”

The couple had only walked a bit further into the store before you squealed and ran over to a display. Well, ran was a bit of an exaggeration at that point; it was more like a quick waddle. He felt guilty about how much pain you were in as the kids grew, but God forgive him, he also found watching you try to maneuver around your middle hilarious.

He followed you to the display as you turned to him beaming, matching purple and green onesies in your hands.

“Look! They have little hoodies. And matching socks and baby mittens! It’s pretty warm, it’ll be perfect to bring them home from the hospital in. And they’re so adorable!” He watched your little outburst with a smile on his lips. Cute.

“Those are perfect.” He agreed. You grinned as you dropped them in the cart.

“So, what are we actually getting today and what’s going on the registry?” He asked as they walked towards the cribs.

“All of the furniture, the strollers, and the car seats will go on the registry; Bruce was very insistent about it. We just need to pick them out today.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll buy the whole thing plus some.”

“Most likely.” You agreed with a smile.

Jason really hadn’t been sure how Bruce would react to the news, but surprisingly The Dark Knight was actually taking it in stride. If the family didn’t know any better, they’d venture as far to say he was excited. However, Babs and Dick had him beat. Though no one was as elated as Alfred.

“We should go ahead and get stuff like bibs, blankets, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, and diapers today. But we should put some of that on the registry too, we could always use more.” He nodded in agreement as they reached the cribs.

They walked through the long, overfilled aisle of various cribs and cradles. Jason had no idea there were so many options to choose from, especially since most of them looked exactly the same. He turned to see if any had caught your eye, but he found you with a distinct frown on your face.

”What’s wrong doll?”

“We should have picked out the color scheme for the nursery before looking at furniture.” You replied. One thing you had been insistent on was a put together nursery. Jason had read about it in the numerous pregnancy books he’d read: nesting. You wanted everything cleaned, organized, and put together by the time your little boy and girl got there, and Jason could tell it was stressing you. He came around behind you and pulled you into him, his hands finding the sides of your belly and his fingers massaging circles into the fabric of your top.

“We can get neutrals for the furniture so it’ll work with whatever we choose. And I can always paint it if there’s a specific color pallet you pick out.” He suggested softly. You mulled it over for a second but nodded in agreement.

“This one is cute then. The bottom drops out so we could use it until they’re around 2. And the whole mattress is washable.” You mused, leaning your head back into his chest.

“That one’s nice, but look at this one. The bottom doesn’t drop as far but it turns into a toddler bed. And there’s all that storage on the bottom, we’ll need that while they’re little. Mattress’s still washable too.” You smiled and nodded, pulling away from him to write down the serial number.

The two of you moved about the store, picking out strollers and highchairs, décor and toys, planning paints and curtains. The cart was quickly filling with little things you found that would be helpful; swaddling blankets, wrap carriers, a baby monitor, a bottle warmer, a boogie sucker, etc. With how thorough you thought your list was, it was insane how many things you were seeing that you knew you would need. Eventually you rounded to the large expanse of colorful clothes, shoes, and accessories.

“Let’s split up, maybe 3 outfits each per baby for now?” You suggested. Jason nodded, kissing the top of your head and leaving you with the cart. First and foremost, he picked up a red onesie reading daddy’s girl in black cursive that came with a black tutu and black gold glitter leggings. Next, he grabbed a blue parter in crime onesie with little black cargo pants. Next, he was going for-

He heard soft sniffing coming from nearby. He looked around and was alarmed to find the cries coming from you. He rushed to your side.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You turned to him with tears down your face and a little formal suit in your hand.

“Jason, look at the tiny suit! It has a little bow tie, and itty-bitty dress shoes!” You could barely get it out before your voice broke. He stared at you blankly, trying to hold it it, but failed miserably as laughter overtook him.

“You’re crying over the baby suit? Seriously?”

“Fuck off Todd, I’m hormonal and it’s cute.” You glared at him, but he could see the humor in the quirk of your lip. He held his hands up in defeat.

“You’re right, you’re right. How dare I?”

“How dare you indeed.” You wiped your tears and turned back to the shelf of clothes you were looking at to hide your growing smile and hung the suit back up.

You both picked out your 6 outfits quickly, and in fact it was hard not to grab more. You hadn’t even seen your babies yet but you were so excited to dress them up. Maybe it was the fact that they were about to be first time parents, but everything was adorable.

You picked out some beanies, baby mittens, and socks to keep them warm, and Jason insisted on grabbing a Wonder Woman and a Superman swaddling blanket, pointedly leaving the Batman one untouched. Finally it was time to hit check out.

Jason said no to the printed copy when the cashier asked if he wanted the receipt in hand or emailed, honestly he wanted to quickly grow amnesia for that part of the trip. Especially since he knew that was trip number 1 of 2000 probably. However, when he looked over at you, your hand protectively resting over your children’s temporary home, the price tag didn’t matter quite as much. And as long as he had you with him, he didn’t care how many shopping trips you had to go on for your new, growing little family.

Whoo boy I couldn’t figure out how to end this one. Sorry it took so long, life is very stressful right now and writing is more of a passive hobby for me. This one doesn’t feel as put together as my others so sorry if it’s not what you were hoping for! I really just wanted to do some domestic fluff. Regardless thank you for reading and I really really appreciate the support on part 1 and 2!!!

[bia-wayne-west]

Pregnancy — Barry Allen x Reader

Characters: Barry Allen (The Flash), Reader (You).

Synopsis: You have been married to Barry for two years. One fine day, you start to feel a hunger worthy of a little speedster.

Warnings: Pregnancy, seasickness, pregnancy discovery

N / A: I did this imagine in 10 minutes. I watched a pregnancy movie with my cousin, and then we went to watch The Flash, she suggested the idea to me and I loved it. Hope you like it.

I'm a Latina girl who doesn't speak fluent English, so I want to apologize for any writing errors you find. Feel free to correct me.

MASTERLIST

The day had begun. The sun came through the window, causing you to curl up even more in the duvets.

You ran your hand over the bed, feeling the sheet to feel Allen's warm body. There was only an empty space, indicating that he had been awake for some time.

Your mind tried to sleep again, however, a sweet smell flooded his nostrils. You could have sworn it smelled like pancakes and condensed milk.

The sheets were set aside as his feet touched the ground. With delicate steps, you made your way to the kitchen, being guided by the wonderful smell. You had no intention of surprising Barry, as he could see everything happening in slow motion and could easily see you approaching.

 Allen held a frying pan, trying to flip a pancake. On the kitchen counter was a stack of pancakes and two coffee cups of Jitters.

With a smile on your face, you approached your husband, placing your hand on the speedster's shoulder. Barry's face lit up, showing a sweet smile.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my dear.”

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“You always make coffee, I decided to make it for you today.” Allen placed the last finished pancake on the plate, enjoying the view of what he had just prepared. “Are you hungry?”

“I think I could devour a whole cow.” Your stomach churned, complaining of hunger.

 You usually didn't eat much, unlike your husband. Barry had to consume at least fifteen thousand calories daily, so he could stay upright and healthy. He literally ate all day and kept him body skinny.

Unlike you, who hardly felt hungry. You were the perfect couple. When you couldn't finish your snack, Allen was able to eat everything and still had plenty of room in his stomach. A few weeks ago, you began to feel extraordinarily hungry.

 You ate almost the same amount of food as Barry. It seemed like you were a speedster, too. Her sense of smell could sense food being prepared in other rooms, as well as feeling terrible nausea and dizziness. You thought it was vitamin’s problem, and you bought some to make yourself feel better.

 Within seconds, the breakfast table was fully set. Without much ceremony, you joined your husband to enjoy their morning meal.

“I could have sworn you have hypermetabolism too.” He joked when he saw you steal a pancake from him after eating yours.

“I don't know what happened. It feels like I'm eating for an army.” You verbalized, picking up the dishes to wash them. As soon as your hand placed the last glass in the sink, a horrible sensation gripped your entire body. You ran to the bathroom, feeling a terrible urge to vomit. Your body leaned over the toilet as the breakfast was poured out.

In less than a second, Barry appeared at your side, his face full of concern. One hand held your hair, while the other smoothed your back.

 “Are you okay?”

“I am. I think I ate more than my stomach can handle.”

“Let Caitlin examine you.”

“I told you I'm fine, dear.” You got up with Barry's help. Along the way, you felt your vision darken and your body vibrate, as if you were a speedster. “I think going to see Caitlin is a good idea.”

 (…)

“I have two new features.” Caitlin said, as soon as she finished examining your blood. “A good one and a bad one, depending on one's point of view.”

“What's the good news?” Barry asked. Cisco, Joe, Barry, and you were waiting in the exam room. Caitlin held a sheet of paper with the results of your exams.

“You're pregnant.”

 Your world spun. Your chest collapsed with happiness. A year ago, you and Barry were planning to have a child, but you never had any luck.

Allen took your hand. The speedster's face was flooded with a smile. Everyone in the room was happy with the news of yet another person being added to Team Flash.

“And what's the bad news?” You asked.

“Very well.” She seemed to be looking for the right words. “I did an ultrasound, and it looks like the baby's heart has stopped.”

“You mean he's dead?”

Everyone in the room asked at once. Tears had already appeared in your eyes, you had barely gotten used to the idea of being a mother, and your little Allen was no longer with you.

“Theoretically, yes.”

“Explain it properly.” You demanded.

“When Barry was struck by lightning, his heart stopped several times. Doctors believed he had died because the machines couldn't record his heartbeat.” She explained. “But his heart had never stopped, what happened is that he was so fast that not even the machines could keep up.”

“So your theory is that the baby is like Barry?” Cisco chimed in. His face was in an expression it was always when he was thinking. “My God, that completely explains your extraordinary hunger and why you started vibrating like a speedster.”

“Our son is also fast.” Allen said, grinning from ear to ear. He deposited a beak on your lips, still holding your hand.

 Ten years later…

 You've finished setting the lunch table. The dish of the day was pasta with broccoli and cheese. Benjamin Allen's favorite meal.

After putting the last dish on the table, you called your child. Benjamin quickly descended using his powers.

The wind caused by your little one's speed left one of the glasses on the table unbalanced. Before Ben had a chance to catch him, another speedster came in front of him. Barry put the glass right where it was before, and went to meet him.

The brunette wrapped his arms around his body and pressed a sweet kiss to her neck. A laugh escaped his throat as he saw his son utter an exclamation of disgust.

“Please, your son is here watching you be completely disgusting. Ben said, sitting in the chair.

Benjamin has the same hair color as yours, but he had the same green eyes as his father. Everyone who saw him always said the same thing, that he was a faithful copy of Barry Allen.

 He and your husband were the guardians of Central City. The little one has not yet obtained all of his father's abilities, but he has the super speed and the ability to vibrate his body and molecules.

 In the middle of lunch, you smiled when you saw the size of your child's plate, which was three times larger than yours. That scene reminded him of something.

“Ben, would you like to hear the story of the day I found out I was pregnant?”

[chiaraswritings]

Unexpected.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their characters, or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Suggestive themes, emotional distress, physical exhaustion, pregnancy. 18+.

Word Count: 3.9K words

Summary: Batmom! reader finds out she is pregnant a short time after marrying Bruce Wayne, not in the most pleasant of ways. Telling him won't be easy, but Alfred gives her some encouragement.

Author's note: After four hours of work, I deem my first fanfiction suitable for posting. Thank you for all the support. I hope you enjoy.

It'd been two months since that beautiful, blissful, romantic day. Actually, two months, two weeks, and one day. But who was counting, right?

The newspapers were. Headlines of gossip news, huge block letters in bold, depicted that I had been spotted at the gym alone again, also describing their support for my "weight loss journey" since I had been "losing my figure". I had been reading this article over and over for about an hour. Damn. I inspected the black and white photo of myself in leggings and a tank top. The worst part about, well, everything, is that they were right. I was losing my figure, noticeably. 

I didn't even notice Alfred behind me until he spoke. "No matter how many times you read them, the words are not going to change, ma'am."

I jumped slightly. I hadn't been sleeping or eating well at all, my back and chest ached too much to relax, and heartburn hit me like a batarang after meals. I think I had gotten thirty hours of sleep in the last week, and maybe one meal a day. "Thank you, Alfred. Do you know when dinner will be ready?" 

"In a half hour, ma'am." The butler moved to the other end of the kitchen table to face me. "Those words in the paper are words that all who love you disagree with."

Alfred's words touched me if only a little, and I set down the paper. "Thank you, I think I'm going to take a walk." 

He looked concerned, but just for a moment. "Alright, ma'am. Try not to be late, the chicken may be devoured." 

Chuckling, I stepped out into the early evening light. I would not be late for dinner, living with five hungry men teaches you a lot. The sunlight embraced me, bathing me in its gentle rays, glimmering over my face. I felt positively glorious. Closing my eyes, I soaked it in. My husband would soon be home to kiss me and keep an arm around my waist. The simple thought of his touch made my mouth stretch into a smile. Five more minutes, and I'll go in. 

Five minutes turned into twenty. Being amongst the blooming flowers and the busy insects kept me occupied. Not only that, but a sudden headache had overtaken me. I sat in the grass, unladylike, watching the bees collect their last supply of nectar from the flowers for the day. Grass stains never bothered me anyway. I knew time was getting away from me, but I couldn't seem to bring myself to focus on anything. I didn't want to go inside because I didn't want bedtime to arrive. It was too painful to even think about. My head and back reminded me of that even now. 

My vision blurred slightly, I could only focus on a single flower on the bushes before me, bees continuing to fly around it. This was nice. I couldn't focus on a single thing, or think about anything, or worry.

I felt myself fall, sort of, to the ground. Fall was the best word I know to describe it. I was already sitting on the ground, but my muscles suddenly felt like pudding. My head bumped to the grass and laid to rest. Terror gripped my heart and throat for a single second before everything just... relaxed. My vision went next, but I was okay with that. This was so relaxing. I wanted to stay.

...

"Madam. Madam (Y/N)!" The voice came from... maybe a mile away. Maybe. Maybe ten miles. Maybe a hundred.

"(Y/N), madam (Y/N)!" Something cold was on my face. Ugh. I don't like that. The wind bit and stung at where the cold wetness was on my cheek. Ouch.

"Wake up, madam!" No. I don't want to. Go away. But the voice sounds scared.  

I slowly, slowly, with great effort, opened my eyes. Instantly they closed again. My friend the butler was hovering over me. What was his name again?

"Mom!" New voice. Go the hell away. I open my eyes again. 

"I'm here, I'm fine." Sitting up took much more strength than opening my eyes, but I managed to do so. Dick and Alfred worriedly stare at me. "I was just taking a nap."

"That wasn't a nap, it looked like you passed out." Dick was the one with the cold wet cloth. He put it to my head again. I gave him a withering glare, and he pulled it away again, looking apologetic. 

"It was a nap, of course I didn't pass out. Now let me return to it," I waved my hand in no particular direction, trying to shoo them away like mice.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to sleep on the cold ground in nothing but your loungewear, ma'am." Alfred took the cloth from Dick and put it to my forehead. 

Lord, they were being so annoying, I just wanted to go back to sleep. My eyelids drooped and my words slurred. "Bed hurts too much right now... just come back later..." my head finally dropped forward as vision began to diminish again. 

I couldn't really tell what they said next. What I could remember was, "Inside now... call the... when they can see her..." and "...got her... go and tell him... I've got it..." 

The sensation of being lifted did not startle my dozing. Neither did the shouting, nor the feeling of hands on my face. I had earned this sleep, and I was going to... enjoy... it...

...

I was awake, but I didn't want to open my eyes. It wasn't time. Please don't let it be time. I peeked a glance at my watch. Eight in the morning on a Sunday? Yeah, back to sleep we go. 

Before I could return to my dreamless sleep, I became aware of unidentified breathing beside me. Was that Titus? Or maybe Alfred. Maybe I had been kidnapped. Did I care? Hell to the no. All I cared about at this present moment was slumber. If I was kidnapped, I could sleep all I wanted while I waited for them to rescue me.

Then, like a train, uninvited and on its own, the back pain hit my lower body. I couldn't help the moan of discomfort that tore from my throat.

Instantly, a hand went to my forehead. It felt so cold against my warm head. I'd better see who this person with the cold hands is and tell them to go stick their fingers in a campfire before touching me again.

 When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in the garden anymore. Alfred, I told you I wanted to stay on the ground. But it wasn't Alfred who had put freezing digits on my forehead. It was my husband, my dearest Bruce, my wonderful partner in... crime didn't seem like a good choice of words. His worried blue eyes bored into my sleep-deprived (Y/C) eyes. Ouch, that gaze made my headache come back.

"Hello. Go warm your hands up," I told the love of my life before closing my eyes again. The light from the window seemed to be penetrating my very brain. 

"My hands are warm," replied the bearer of freezing fingers.

"Please, feels like your hands went to the Artic circle for winter vacation." My stubborn retort took a lot out of me, but I could practically hear his small smile. 

"There's my girl," he murmured. I opened my eyes again to smile at my wonderful... freezing... man. 

"Yeahhh, your girl's going back to dreamland. Night night." I grunted at the pain stabbing me in the back, the throbbing in my head, and the emptiness in my stomach.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Stay right here. The doctor's going to be here at ten, you should freshen up a bit." 

I opened one eye to glare unhappily at him. "Don't need a doctor. Need a nap."

His chuckle annoyed me to the very core, almost scaring away the shooting pains in my back. "I'm sorry, but this needs to happen. Do you know how worried we all were when we heard you had fainted in the garden? The boys hardly wanted to go on patrol, they wanted to look after you."

"The boys didn't want to go on patrol? You didn't want to look after me?" I glared playfully at my handsome knight. "And I didn't faint... just took a nap."

"On the cold hard ground?" His questioning gaze made me open both my eyes.

"Yes, it felt nice on my back." 

"Does your back still hurt, sweetheart?"

"Yes, it still hurts." 

"And you didn't feel like sleeping in the bed?"

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" 

"Maybe," he grinned.

"Go away," I retorted, closing my eyes. "I have to go to work, no time for doctors."

"I called and told them you can't come in this week."

"This... this is why I married you."

It didn't take long to fall back into blissful, painless paradise. Bruce left me alone, but I knew he was close by, watching over me. The mansion was so quiet and peaceful, I knew the boys were fast asleep.

Much too soon, I was being kissed awake. 

"Darling, Doctor Thompkin's here. It's time to wake up." Bruce's forehead kisses were, for the very first time in our relationship, annoying. 

"Ugh." I rolled over to escape, my back cracking. 

"Upsy daisy." He stroked my back, gently massaging my painfully aching muscles.

Sitting up took all the strength I had, and yet I had to find more to answer the questionnaire the doctor was springing upon me. Bruce stepped out mid-examination to answer a phone call, leaving the woman to observe my body and take into consideration my answers to her questions. Her questions seemed endless. "Have you been out of the country in the last month?" 

"No."

"Have you been feeling depressed or hopeless?"

"No."

"Are you on any medications?"

"No."

"Do you or any family members have history of scoliosis?" 

"No."

"History of heartburn?"

"No."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"It's marked on the calendar, couple pages back." 

"Do you know what year it is?"

I gave her a funny look. "Of course I do, what's wrong with you?" Now I feel bad for saying that, but I certainly didn't in the moment.

The doctor chuckled, her friendly eyes had laughter lines around them. "Just wanted to make sure you're still with me. Are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been on birth control?" 

"Couple months. I went on it during our honeymoon."

"During?"

"Yes, we realized condoms and plan B weren't as convenient as the pill."

"I'm going to need a blood sample and then we're done here. I'll be in touch with the results. You don't seem to be suffering from scoliosis, but I'll contact you about x-rays to confirm. I haven't made a house call in a long time, or practiced family medicine, but I'll do everything I can to make sure we get to the root of this."

"Okay." 

The blood draw seemed to take longer than I remembered blood draws taking. The prick of the needle didn't disturb the haze of sleepiness that still surrounded me. The woman's departure signaled another wave of sleepiness to wash over me. Bruce and Alfred were showing the doctor out as my head hit the pillow. Pain shot up my back, but sleep had already captured me. 

Tomorrow turned into today, and then today became yesterday. It felt like I slept the whole Monday, skipping work and family dinner. Tuesday morning came with sunshine and kisses from my darling husband as I slowly opened my eyes. 

"Hi," I smiled at him. One of Bruce's arms was holding me almost loosely as he lay next to me in the white sheets. He looked worn and tired from a long night of patrol. I sniffed him. Good, he had showered. 

"Hello." His tired kiss on my lips was slowly waking me. "I love you."

"I love you too," I told him. My smile was getting bigger and my world was waking up. I traced the shape of his exhausted eyes. "Close your eyes. Sleep." 

"Mmph." His eyes closed and his body relaxed under my touch. Normally, Bruce was the one to hold me tight and kiss me to sleep, to caress my body and keep me safe. Looking over his body, I realized that he had been through a difficult night of patrol. A stitched gash across his back, an unhappy bruise on his jaw, scratches on his forearms. Worrying about my "condition" probably hadn't helped him stay alert out there in the dangerous night of Gotham. Guilt washed over me. My arms protectively wrapped around my dearest husband, my lips pressing to his forehead. Today, I was going to keep him safe, I was going to comfort him through his slumber.

...

Bruce's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby, so I was up and about after a few hours. The boys were crashed in their rooms and Alfred was busy baking something that smelled like chocolatey deliciousness. I was looking over the morning paper, again, skimming for any mention of my family or I. Unhealthy habit, you could say. I was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, keeping the rustling of the newspaper pages to a minimum.

Vibrations of Bruce's cell phone made me look up. As silently as I could, I leaped up and grabbed the phone from the bedside table on Bruce's side. My husband's sleep was important to me, and if I had it my way, nothing at all would disturb it, not even nightmares. 

I carried the cell phone out of the bedroom and glanced at the caller ID. Doctor Thompkins. Results. Yes. This wasn't the first time I had answered my husband's phone, so I wasn't going to feel guilt over finding out my own test results. "Hello?"

"(Y/N), hello. I'm calling with your results."

"Tim's been telling everyone in the family it's yellow fever, please prove him wrong."

"Hah, no, it is not yellow fever... I'd say it's something a little more... serious."

I stiffened. My aching back didn't like that. "What's up?"

"We spoke about your history with birth control, but we need to talk about it again. It would seem that there was some window of time where you and Bruce were not using protection."

My backache must've hit my brain, because looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on. "Bruce gave me a disease?"

"Not a disease. You're pregnant, (Y/N). I can't make an estimate on how many weeks you are, but I'm going to give you the contact information for an OBGYN. Make an appointment as soon as you can. Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne."

...

When Bruce woke up, I had to apologize to him for his cracked cell phone screen. I told him the truth, that I'd dropped it, but I didn't explain that it was from shock. He told me it was alright, that he'd pick up a new one, but he wasn't quite sure why I looked so very upset over dropping his phone. That would explain itself in time.

I didn't eat a thing at dinner that night, despite my full plate and coaxing from my family. Even the finest cut of steak is unappealing when something like that is on one's mind.

Who wouldn't overthink a thing like this? Pregnant, after a literal two months of marriage? Pregnant, while caring for four boys that you saw as your sons? Pregnant, after your husband had told you he didn't want anymore children? Pregnant, after you had both tried to be careful? Pregnant, to one of the greatest vigilantes and most successful businessmen in the world? Pregnant. I am pregnant. I might have my husband's baby.

"Mom!"

My head jerked up and I was greeted by five concerned faces. 

"Ma, you look like you're in another world," Jason forked a piece of potato. 

"Maybe I am in another world, Jay-Jay." I smiled slightly before standing. Ten eyes observed my every move. 

"Ummi, where are you going?" Damian, the one who I expected would be the least concerned, watched me with huge, worried eyes. 

"I think I need to sleep more. I will see you all tomorrow morning." I kissed every head at the table, my lips lingering on my husband's forehead. He rested his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down for a gentle kiss. I think he noticed my hesitance, but I didn't stop to think about it or explain. My back only permitted me to walk up the stairs, but if I could've run, I would've.

Once Bruce and the boys had left for their night of patrol, I breathed again. Laying on the bed, clutching my pillow to my chest, trying to rehearse how I would address the situation to Bruce, it took a lot out of me. "Bruce, I need to tell you something," I mumbled. "No... Bruce, we need to talk." 

"Madam, I am not sure if you have noticed, but Master Bruce is not here." Alfred's voice startled me for the second time this week.

"I wish he was. I'm sorry, I'm... practicing." I tried to give my friend a reassuring smile but it came out as a grimace. 

"Good luck, madam," Alfred set down a cup of tea on my bedside table and gave me a genuine Alfred smile. Before he was out of the room, he turned back and looked me dead in the eye. "Master Bruce loves you very much, Madam (Y/N). He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink." 

I looked straight back into this wonderful gentleman's eyes. "Thank you."

...

I tried to sleep through the night, I really did. When dawn and my boys arrived, I was still wide awake, not having slept a wink. I trotted down the stairs to the batcave, taking extra care not to trip. Once on the floor, we went through our post-patrol routine of inspecting each one of my boys. First Damian, who shrugged me off several times before allowing me to look over him, then Tim, who accepted my worrying for what it was, then Jason, who pretended to be annoyed for show, then Dick, who looked over me as carefully as I looked over him, then finally Bruce, who would not stop kissing me, barely giving me a chance to check him for injuries. 

No one was truly hurt, but all but one were tired as they pulled off their suits. The boys trudged upstairs to their rooms, but my husband carried me valiantly up the stairs to our place in the master bedroom, like a knight carrying his princess.

Once the bedroom door was shut and he had set me down, I was instantly on my back laying on the bed, Bruce's lips showing affection to my neck and collarbone. A soft, throaty moan left my mouth as my husband kissed me, his hands working their way over my body. I was clothed in my favorite outfit of a tank top and leggings, and I knew they were at risk of being torn from my torso and limbs if I allowed this to continue. Besides... I had to tell Bruce. 

"Darling..." the word I said was half-moaned. "Darling, please, you need to shower."

"I thought you liked my scent?" Bruce chuckled, looking up at me, his hands working their way up my shirt. 

"Mmm, I do, but you are going to dirty our sheets that Alfred worked so hard to wash." 

"You have a valid point, but I don't like it." Bruce grinned and pulled off the little clothing he wore. I chuckled and rolled my eyes, watching him make his way to the shower. If I hadn't had such a burden on my mind, I would've joined him. I could hear him muttering insults at the slippery bar of soap that his large fingers always seemed to have trouble grasping, and it made me smile. My hand absentmindedly rested on my stomach and I wondered if his child would have the same troubles as their father.

Bruce's shower was shorter than usual. Much shorter than if I had been in there with him. Chuckling, I made room for my knight in the bed. He hadn't bothered to put on clothes, or dry his hair. Bruce climbed on top of me, drops of water falling from his hair to my chest. His lips reattached to mine, devouring the kiss like a wild man. I knew what he had on his mind from the way he caressed my body, and I had to put a stop to it. 

"Bruce... Bruce, wait." 

Concerned eyes met mine. "(Y/N)?"

Alfred's words replayed in my mind. He would not have married you if he was not ready to take on the unexpected. I stared into the beautiful blue eyes I had grown to take comfort in. "Bruce, Doctor Thompkins diagnosed me."

Instantly, his desire was forgotten. Bruce sat back on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. "Tell me, darling, what is it?"

His arms made me feel so safe. He will not turn you away when you tell him, so try not to overthink. "I... you need to expect the unexpected."

"So I'm guessing it's not yellow fever, since that's what Tim expects," Bruce smiled. The gentle attempt at humor didn't lift the worry in his eyes. 

"Heh, no... not exactly. It's... it's a baby." The last three words were much quieter than the others. 

Bruce looked at me quizzically. "I don't think I heard you correctly." 

"A baby," I honestly voiced my diagnosis, somewhat fearfully looking into his eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Bruce's glare pierced mine. He gently slid me off his lap and set me on the bed before standing and walking to the window to silently stare out of it. His breathing had changed, his body was stiff, everything about him seemed cold and hardened. 

My worst fears bit and tore at my heart, anxiety gripping my throat like a murderer. Oh Lord, he doesn't want me anymore. I didn't know whether to go to him, or leave the mansion, or stay in the bed, or cry, or speak. So I just waited, for a full two minutes, staring at my husband's scarred back. After waiting that long, tears began to prick at my eyes. I finally laid down and curled into the cold sheets. "I'm sorry."

I heard him turn. "What are you sorry for?"

"Not paying attention to my birth control. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," my tears left wet spots on the pillowcase. I closed my eyes tightly. 

Then I felt his weight on his side of the bed, he was laying beside me. Bruce collected me into his arms, tilting my chin up, asking me silently to look at him. I opened my wet eyes. 

"I'm not angry with you. I'm thinking about it. Just let me think." Bruce's rough, calloused fingers brushed against my peach soft cheek.

"Okay." I closed my eyes to fight back angry, hot tears. He pulled me to his chest, holding me to himself. I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. 

He must've held me like that for an hour before he finally, finally spoke. "Well, this isn't what I thought two months into our marriage would look like." 

My tears had left stains on his chest. Only a surge of bravery made me look up at him. "Yeah."

He looked down at me, smiled, kissed my lips, and I felt my husband's love course through my body. He may have turned me away physically, but he had never turned me away emotionally. I sat up on his lap, straddling him, my forehead resting on his, my hands on his cheeks. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce's fingers brushed against my waist. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes met mine. "May I?"

I was confused for a moment, but then I realized and nodded, beaming. "Yes."

His large hand rested on my stomach. The wheels in his head were still turning, but they had calmed, and they were only turning in the name of love. 

"Expect the unexpected." 

[bat-mom-writer]

Bat Baby: Part 3

Reader(pregnant wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Note: this is a longer one, but thank god we have 'read more'. ;)

Summery: You're water broke. But the first you think is to NOT tell your other sons, because the time you told them you were pregnant, they panicked! So now you and Bruce sneak out and rush to the hospital.

(I do not own any DC charaters)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

"Bruce."

The voice was faint, a mere murmur that pierced the quiet of the moonlit garden. Her hand trembled as it reached out to gently shake the man lying beside her.

"Bruce," she whispered urgently, her heart racing.

He stirred, his eyes slowly opening to meet hers. "Mmm? What is it?" he mumbled, the sleep still clinging to his voice.

"My water just broke," she said, her voice shaking more than she would have liked.

Bruce bolted upright, instantly alert. "Now?" he exclaimed, his sleepiness vanishing like mist in the morning sun.

“Shh!” Her pointer finger lands on her lips, “Not so loud. I don’t want to alarm the boys.”

Bruce frowned, concern etching lines on his face. "Why? It's their brother or sister on the way."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. "You remember when we told them I was pregnant?" she began, her voice low.

"Of course," Bruce replied, his hand moving to cover hers. "They were overjoyed. Overwhelmed, but so happy."

"They panicked!" Her voice grew a tad louder, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "I can't deal with that right now," she continued, her eyes wide with fear. "You know how overprotective they are. They'll go into superhero mode, and the chaos will be unbearable. Please," she begged, "let's tell them after the baby is born."

Bruce nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Alright," he said, his voice calm. "We'll handle this ourselves." He gently helped her feet.

"Okay, go get dressed," he instructed, his voice a soothing balm. "I’ll get our stuff.”

She nodded, her mind racing. She didn't want the baby's arrival to turn into a circus, not with the three of them - Dick, Jason, and Tim - turning the manor upside down.

"Where's the hospital bag?" Bruce asked, his voice tight.

She paused, her hand hovering over her round belly. "It's by the front door," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper. "But if we go out the front door, they'll see us!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"Okay, that's fine," he said, his voice firm. He thinks for a moment, "We'll send Alfred to bring them when we arrive at the hospital."

Shenodded, gritting her teeth as another contraction began to build. She took a deep breath and held it in, trying to keep the pain from spilling out into the quiet night.

Bruce looked around the room, his gaze finally landing on the intercom system. "Alfred," he called into it, "could you come to the master bedroom, please?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of footsteps echoed through the house. The door opened, and instead of Alfred's calm, collected face, it was Dick who walked in, "Is everything okay?" he asked, taking in the scene.

"Dick!" she gasped, her eyes wide. "We're fine," she managed to say, her breath hitching as another contraction started.

Dick looked from her to Bruce, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?"

"She just had a… a craving," Bruce said smoothly, improvising. "It's nothing to worry about. Could you go get her some ice cream?"

Dick's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Sure," he said, turning to leave. "What kind?"

She blurted out, "Chocolate, the mint kind," hoping to buy them some time.

"Chocolate mint it is," Dick said, the tension in his voice palpable. "I believe we are out, so I'll have to go to the store real quick." he added, his eyes flickering between her and Bruce.

She nodded, her smile forced but earnest. "Thank you," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as another wave of pain washed over her. She watched him disappear into the hallway before turning to Bruce with a look of panic.

"They're everywhere," she hissed. "How are we going to sneak out?"

Bruce's gaze darted around the room, his mind racing. "We'll have to make it up as we go along," he murmured. He helped her into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. "Get dressed," he said, his voice low.

With swift, silent movements, Bruce grabbed a small bag from the closet and began to fill it with essentials: a change of clothes, her phone, and some toiletries.

The boys would be suspicious if they saw them disappear into the night without notice, so he had to be quick and precise. He tossed in a pair of comfortable shoes, her favorite blanket, and a few snacks she had been craving lately.

In the bathroom, she changed into a loose dress, the soft fabric caressing her skin as she tried to ignore the growing tightness in her belly. She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes lingering on her reflection. Her hair was a mess of tangles from the night's rest, and her eyes were lined with shadows of fear and pain. But she knew that soon, she would be holding their child in her arms, and that thought gave her strength.

Leaning heavily on the counter, she took deep, slow breaths as the contractions grew stronger. She watched as her belly tightened, the baby moving restlessly inside her. The marble counter was cool against her palms, a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from her body. She focused on Bruce's instructions, counting each contraction under her breath.

Bruce emerged from the closet, the bag in his hand. He approached her, his eyes full of reassurance. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

She nodded, biting her lower lip to keep the whimper from escaping.

Bruce took her hand firmly in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a comforting gesture. "We're going to do this," he murmured, his eyes holding hers. "We're going to get to the hospital and have our baby without the boys turning the whole thing into a superhero operation."

With a nod, she allowed him to guide her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. The contractions were getting closer together now, and she had to lean on Bruce to stay upright. "I'll drive," he said, his voice low and calm. "You just focus on breathing."

They made their way downstairs, each step an eternity for her. She gripped Bruce's arm, the pain in her abdomen growing more intense with every passing moment. The house was eerily silent, the only sounds the echoes of their footsteps and her soft gasps for air. The darkness of the manor seemed to close in around them, a stark contrast to the brightness of the night outside.

As they approached the living room, Bruce's grip tightened. She knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand, but the fear of being caught was a new and disconcerting sensation. They paused at the edge of the doorway, the soft glow of the television flickering across the room.

Tim and Jason sat on the couch, their eyes glued to the screen, with their backs turned. They were both dressed in their pajamas, a rare sight for the two young men who often patrolled the city as Robin and Red Hood.

"You get to the back door, I'll distract them," Bruce whispered, his voice a comforting rumble in her ear.

Her eyes searched his, finding the determination and love she needed. Bruce stepped into the living room, his eyes locking onto Tim and Jason as he steps before them, grabbing their attention. "Jason, Tim," he said casually, his tone a masterful blend of calm and authority.

With one final nod, she took a deep breath and made a break for it. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she hurried down the hallway, each step a silent prayer that she wouldn't be heard.

She quickly goes, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Her feet whisper against the cold marble floor, each step a silent dance of pain and urgency. The contractions are getting closer, a relentless rhythm that demands her full attention. The air in the hallway feels thick and heavy, as if it's trying to hold her back, to keep her from her destination.

Leaning heavily against the wall, she gasps for breath, her hand splayed out over the smooth surface. It's cool against her flushed skin, a tiny bastion of relief in the storm of sensations. The wallpaper's delicate pattern blurs as she squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on the simple mantra that Bruce had taught her during their prenatal classes: inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth.

As the contraction subsides, She opens her eyes to find herself staring into the piercing gaze of Damian Wayne. He's standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where are you going?" he asks, his voice a sharp demand.

Her heart skips a beat. "Just… to get some air," she lies, her voice strained. "I'll be right back."

Damian's eyes narrow, the shadows playing across his face as he assesses her. He's too smart to be fooled so easily, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind. "You're in pain," he states, his voice softer than she's ever heard it.

"It's nothing," she insists, trying to smile, but her face feels tight, the muscles refusing to cooperate. "Just… a cramp."

Damian doesn't budge. "You're lying," he says, his tone unyielding. "Your water broke, didn't it?"

She eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to protest, but no words come out. She's caught.

"Damian, please," she whispers, her hand moving to her belly. "You can't tell them. If they know, they'll panic, and then I'll panic, and that's the last thing I need right now. Please."

Damian's expression softens, and for a moment, the hardened exterior of the young boy who had seen too much of Gotham's darkness cracks to reveal the concerned child beneath. "I won't say anything," he promises, his voice low. "Let’s get you to the car."

Her eyes fill with tears of gratitude as she nods, leaning heavily on the youngest Wayne as he leads her to the back door. The night air is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the warmth of the manor, but it feels like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in the oppressive silence of her impending labor.

The car, Bruce's sleek black, sits waiting in the shadow of the garage. Damian opens the door with a quiet click, and she slides into the passenger seat, her movements slow and deliberate as the contractions continue to build. He carefully fastens her seatbelt, his movements gentle and surprisingly tender.

"Thank you," she whispers, her eyes closing as she leans back into the leather seat. The pain is more intense now, each contraction a crescendo that seems to shake her very soul.

"Damian, what are you doing out here?"

Dick's voice sliced through the night, and her eyes shot open. She hadn't even heard his approach, so focused was she on the growing discomfort in her belly. The mint chocolate chip ice cream he held was a stark reminder of the ruse they had concocted to keep their secret.

Damian ever so calmly closed the car door and strode over to Dick, his movements fluid and silent as a cat. "I wanted to check the car," he called out, his voice steady despite the turmoil he had just witnessed. "Make sure it had enough gas for when mother suddenly goes into labor."

He couldn't see the panic in her eyes through the tinted windows, the contractions grew more intense, each one stealing her breath and tightening her grip on the seat. She watched as Dick, his eyes searching the night as if he could sense the urgency in the very air. "Sudden labor? What makes you think she'll just sudden be ready to drop?"

Damian's eyes flicked over to the passager side, for a brief moment, a silent promise of solidarity. "Just a feeling," he replied, his voice a practiced lie. "You know how unpredictable it can be."

Dick frowned, his gaze lingering on his younger brother before turning back to the house. "I'll be right back," he called out, his footsteps retreating into the manor. She watched him go, her chest heaving with each labored breath.

Damian wasted no time. He quickly opened the garage door, the sound of the electric motor a jarring intrusion in the quiet night. The moon cast a silver glow across the gleaming bonnet of the car, the light reflecting off the chrome in a ghostly dance. She felt a fresh wave of contractions, gripping the armrest with white knuckles as she fought the urge to scream.

Damaian rushed back to the passenger side and opened her door, his eyes searching hers with a rare concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

"I'm fine," she managed to gasp, panting heavily. "Where's Bruce? We need to go. Now."

Damian nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'll go get him," he said, his voice firm. "You stay here."

Before he could move, however, Bruce's footsteps echoed through the garage, his shadow stretching across the floor. "I'm here," he said, his voice calm and steady. "I had to give Dick an excuse. Damian, what are you doing here?"

Her hand tightened on the armrest as another contraction hit, stealing her breath. "Bruce!" she managed to choke out. "We have to go!"

"Shit, coming," he murmured under his breath, a hint of panic in his voice. He quickly jogs to the driver seat. "Damian, tell Alfred to meet us at the hospital with our hospital bag," he instructed, his voice low but firm. "And don't let the boys come until we give the okay, alright?"

Damian nodded, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Understood," he said, his voice calm and composed.

Bruce quickly started the engine, the low purr of the powerful machine a comforting sound in the tense silence. Her gripped the door handle, her knuckles white as another contraction hit her like a freight train. "Bruce!" she moaned painfully, her eyes squeezed shut.

He glanced over at her, his jaw set in determination. "Hold on," he murmured, shifting the car into gear. The tires squealed softly as they pulled out of the garage, the night swallowing them up as they sped towards the hospital.

The car's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the twisting road ahead. Her eyes remained shut, her breathing ragged and shallow as she tried to manage the pain. Each contraction was more intense than the last, her body a symphony of agony and anticipation. Bruce's hand found hers, his grip firm and reassuring as he navigated the familiar path to the hospital.

"You're doing great," he murmured, his eyes never leaving the road. "Just keep breathing."

She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. The pain was unbearable now, a relentless wave that crashed over her again and again. Bruce's hand was the only anchor in the storm, a warm, steady presence that kept her from being swept away.

"Fucking hell!" she groaned, the words ripping from her chest as the contraction peaked. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her body taut as a bowstring. She felt as though she was being torn apart from the inside out, the baby's impending arrival a furious symphony of agony.

Bruce's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "Almost there," he whispered, his voice tight with concern. "Just hold on."

"What the fucking hell do you want me to hold onto?" She spat out through gritted teeth, her anger a stark contrast to the serene night outside the car windows. She was already tired of the pain, tired of the secrets, and tired of the fear that her labor would turn into a full-blown Gotham crisis.

He didn't respond to her outburst. He knew better than to argue with a woman in labor. "The hospital's up ahead," he said instead, his eyes darting to the GPS for confirmation. "We're almost there."

The car's tires skidded slightly as they took a sharp turn, and she felt the baby kick hard, as if in protest to the chaotic journey. She let out a low moan, "Oh, when this baby is born, you better pray I don't fucking kill you, Bruce. Because right now, I'm seriously considering it."

Bruce's jaw clenched, but he kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice tight with tension. "We're almost there. Just keep breathing."

The hospital emerged from the darkness like a beacon of hope, its lights piercing the night like a thousand tiny stars. Bruce's heart hammered in his chest as he pulled the car into the emergency bay, the tires screeching to a halt. He threw the car into park and jumped out, rushing around to her side to help her out.

"I can do it," she grunted, her face contorted in pain as she pushed herself upright. Another contraction washed over her, and she leaned heavily against the car, panting. "Just get a fucking wheelchair."

Bruce didn't argue. He dashed into the hospital, the doors swinging open with a whoosh that seemed to echo the urgency of the situation. The cool air inside was a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the car.

In moments, a nurse in blue scrubs emerged, her face a mask of calm professionalism. She took in the scene with a quick glance, then moved with purpose towards her. "Ma'am," she said, her voice soothing, "let's get you inside."

The contraction passing, and she straightened up with a wince. "Well, no shit, I'm not having a baby out here," she quipped through gritted teeth, trying to keep the panic at bay. The nurse's eyes widened slightly at the profanity, but she remained unflappable, pushing the wheelchair closer.

Bruce helped her into the chair, his touch gentle despite his urgency. "Honey, I know you're in a lot of pain," he began, his voice tight with concern. "But just keep the profanity pointing at me, okay?" He shot a quick, apologetic look at the nurse. "The nice nurse is just doing her job to help you."

"Fine," She bit out, the pain in her voice a stark contrast to the coldness of her words. "Fuck you,"

"Yes, my love," Bruce said, his voice a soothing balm to her frazzled nerves.

The nurse wheeled her through the automatic doors, the cool air of the hospital's emergency room wrapping around them like a sterile embrace. The bright lights and the smell of antiseptic were jolting after the dark, quiet journey from the manor. Her eyes snapped open, and she took in the scene with a sense of urgency that seemed to fuel her every movement.

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne," she said, pushing the wheelchair with an efficiency born of experience. She gripped the armrests, her knuckles white as Bruce jogged alongside her, his hand hovering protectively over her shoulder.

The hallways were a blur of white and blue as they sped towards the labor ward. The clack of the nurse's shoes echoed through the corridor, punctuated by her labored breaths. Each contraction was a battle, her body fighting against the relentless tide of pain that threatened to drown her.

Finally, the nurse stopped in front of a closed door, her expression calm and reassuring. "Here we are," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "Let's get you prepped for delivery."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving Bruce's as the nurse wheeled her into the room. It was a stark, medical space, but the sight of the hospital bed and the monitoring equipment brought a sense of relief.

The nurse began to ask questions, but her attention was on Bruce. His eyes were filled with a mix of fear and determination, his jaw set as he nodded to each of the nurse's instructions. She could see the wheels turning in his head, planning for every possible scenario. It was a look she had seen countless times when he was Batman, but now it was for her, for their baby.

"Mrs., can you tell me how far apart your contractions are?" the nurse asked, her voice calm and soothing.

"Fuck if I know," she snapped, the pain making her irritable. "They're close. Too close."

Bruce stepped forward, his hand reaching for hers. "They're about two minutes apart," he said, his voice firm. "They've been getting stronger and closer since we left."

The nurse nodded, her gaze flicking to the monitors that had begun to beep in response to her contractions. She checked her watch and made a note before turning back to them with a gentle smile. "We'll get you into a room and start monitoring you properly," the nurse assured. "We're going to take good care of you."

"I fucking hope so," she gasped as another contraction hit, the intensity of the pain making her dizzy. The nurse's expression remained calm, but Bruce could see the concern in her eyes. She knew this wasn't the first time she'd seen a mother in such distress, but the urgency was palpable.

With a gentle touch, the nurse began to check she vitals, her movements swift and efficient. She spoke calmly, explaining each step as she went along. He eyes remained on Bruce, seeking comfort in his presence, as the nurse checked the baby's heart rate and the progression of her labor.

"You're already five centimeters dilated," the nurse announced, her voice a balm to their frazzled nerves. "Looks like baby Wayne is eager to make an entrance."

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle, his hand tightening around her. "The Wayne family trait," he murmured, his eyes shining with a hint of pride. "Always dramatic."

She glared at him, the pain momentarily forgotten. "You better not be calling me fucking dramatic," she hissed through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing. "Remember what I said back in the car Bruce."

Bruce's smile grew wider, but it was tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Of course, my love," he said, his voice a gentle tease. "I know how much you'd love to kill me, but right now let's focus on the baby."

The nurse gave them both a knowing look before focusing back on her. "Everything looks good," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "But we need to get you into a delivery room right away."

The words had barely left her mouth when a sharp pain lanced through her, "What was that?" she panted, her eyes wide with fear.

The nurse's expression grew serious. "That, Mrs. Wayne, was your baby deciding it's time to join us," she said, her voice calm. "You're in transition."

Her eyes widened with a mix of fear and excitement as the nurse called for a doctor over the intercom. The room was suddenly a flurry of activity, with medical staff rushing in and out, whispering urgently to one another. The chaos was a stark contrast to the quiet calm she had been trying to maintain throughout her labor, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of panic rising in her chest.

"Bruce," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Please don't leave me."

Her husband squeezed her hand reassuringly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice a steady promise. "I'll be right here with you."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as the contractions grew more intense. The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced, a burning, crushing force that seemed to consume her whole being. But she knew she couldn't let it control her, not now. Not when their baby was so close.

"Bruce," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry for snapping. This just hurts like hell, and I'm so tired of hiding it."

He squeezed her hand back, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing rhythm. "You don't have to apologize," he said, his voice a warm reassurance in the cold hospital room. "You're doing amazing."

The doctor rushed in, a stern look on her face that spoke of urgency. "We need to get you to the delivery room," she said, her voice firm but kind. "Your baby's ready to come out."

She nodded, gripping Bruce's hand so tightly he could feel her bones, but he didn't flinch. He was her rock, her protector, her love. The nurse wheeled her down the hallway, the lights flashing by like a strobe in a nightclub. Each bump in the floor sent a fresh wave of pain through her body, but she bit her lip, focusing on the end goal: holding her child.

The delivery room was a blur of activity, with nurses and doctors moving quickly and confidently. The cold, sterile smell washed over her, but it didn't matter. All she cared about was the warmth of Bruce's hand and the promise of their baby's arrival.

"Bruce," She whispered, her voice a raw, desperate plea as the contractions grew closer together.

He leaned in, his eyes full of love and determination. "You can do this," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped her tightly closed eyes. "Our baby is almost here."

The doctor's voice was firm but gentle as she instructed her to begin pushing. "When you feel the next contraction," she said, "push down with everything you have. Don't hold back."

She took a deep breath, the room around her a cacophony of beeping machines and worried whispers. The only thing that grounded her was Bruce's hand in hers, his eyes never leaving hers. She nodded, steeling herself for the next onslaught of pain.

The contraction hit like a sledgehammer, and she gritted her teeth, pushing with every ounce of strength she had. Bruce's hand squeezed hers in encouragement, his eyes never leaving her face. "Good," he murmured, his voice steady. "Keep going."

Her body felt like it was being torn in two, but she pushed with everything she had, the sound of her own grunts filling her ears. The doctor's voice grew more insistent, counting down the seconds with a calm urgency.

"You're doing it," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."

The room grew quieter, the only sounds the rhythmic beeping of the machines and the doctor's encouraging murmurs. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her entire world focused on the effort of bringing their child into the world.

"One more big push," the doctor coached, her voice filled with excitement. "You're doing it."

She took one final, deep breath, and pushed with a roar that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. The pain was unbearable, but it was dwarfed by the overwhelming love and determination that fueled her.

Suddenly, there was a change in the room. The air grew thick with anticipation, and then, amidst a symphony of relief and joy, the doctor announced, "It's a girl!"

The cry of their daughter pierced the silence, a sound so beautiful it brought tears to their eyes. She collapsed back against the pillows, exhaustion and euphoria warring on her face. Bruce leaned over her, kissing her forehead as the doctor placed their tiny, squalling newborn into her arms. The baby's tiny fists waved in the air, her face red and wrinkled from her battle to be born.

"Hello, little one," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. She looked up at Bruce, her eyes shining with love and disbelief. "We have a daughter."

"Yes, we do," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion as he stared down at their baby. "She's beautiful,"

The room was suddenly filled with the soft cries of their newborn daughter, her tiny voice a stark contrast to the sterile silence that had reigned moments before. Her heart swelled with love and relief, the pain of labor already fading into the background. She looked into Bruce's eyes, seeing the same love and wonder reflected there.

"What's her name?" the nurse asked, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

She and Bruce exchanged glances, the weight of their decision settling heavily on their hearts. They had discussed names endlessly, but in this moment, it felt like the most important choice they would ever make.

Next

Writers note: I have no idea what to name her. What should her name be?

Tell me what you think it should be.

And I'll make a Part 4. But only if you people give me ideas for baby girl name.

[lalasworld2x]

Shredder Imagine❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Shredder with Pregnant S/O💞💞

• He’ll check in on you a lot more regularly, like just throughout the day and such.

• He’ll constantly make jokes that Karai will have to raise the baby instead (you won’t let that happen of course).

• Shredder will do all house chores and make sure you’re very well rested, especially the further you get into pregnancy. Doesn’t matter how big or small the bump is, you’re not lifting a finger!

• He’ll get all of your food cravings as long as they aren’t too crazy. Pickles and ice cream is all good 👍 just don’t start asking for dragon scales in mayo…

• He’ll do that thing where he lifts your belly a little to relieve back pain as often as you want him to.

• He won’t necessarily be any more affectionate than he usually is, but you’ll get a very loving vibe when you’re around him (if that makes sense).

• He might be a bit more quiet than usual, and you’re not necessarily sure what’s on his mind. Baby names? Will he be a better father? Possible life styles? Will the baby be in any danger? Would the turtles go so low as to endanger the baby?

• He would train Karai slightly more just to make sure the baby is protected at every corner.

• May even teach you some protective skills in case the situation ever arises.

• Will always order some guards to be near in case you get into some trouble, even if it’s just members of the Foot standing down the hallway.

• You may not need those pregnancy pillows, Oroku is fully willing to be in any position to make sleep more comfortable for you. His somehow sleeps very lightly whilst sleeping like a bear simultaneously, so you won’t get any complaints outta him :p

~~~~

Idk if you want me to add more to this one, lemme know-

I’ve never been pregnant before lol so I’m just going off what I hear and see often 😭😭

[influenzalake]

You Know... Damian Wayne x (pregnant?)Reader blurb 

tw: pregnancy , she / her pronouns , 500+ words

reader tells Damian they're going to have a baby

- - - 

You've been staring at your husband of 6 years for a while. He is hunched over stacks of folders labeled "Top Secret" and after all this time you know not to interrupt him. Plus, it's cute seeing him mumble and scribble when he works. Eventually, he will pause his madness and give you his time. This is how you get his attention when he gets like this. Usually you leave him to his business, but you have a feeling he's going to want to hear what you have to say. 

When you hear the click of his pen and the rustling of papers cease your heart starts racing. 

Oh Yeah, that what you're here for. 

It's now or SOMETIME right?

It-

"Yes, My Love?"

All you can do is keep staring. You keep his attention because his time is valuable, but this news is priceless. 

You soften your gaze and walk closer without another word. (Maybe he'll do his Damian Thing and save you the trouble? He's a detective isn't he?)

The nerves are starting to show anyway, your hands just can't stop shaking! You look away in embarrassment as your body betrays you and now Damian knows it's serious.

You sit down and take a breath to speak, but make the mistake of finding those deep green eyes. The air you once had disappears spontaneously and another wave of nerves hits. You speak hastily as to not alarm Damian any further, but what comes out isn't exactly what you planned...

"   I...  You know I've .. always admired how you ... carry yourself Damian."

Damian gives you a confused expression. Not what he was expecting, but he allows you to continue without distraction. 

"Your body is strong and ... can carry .. and hold a lot!"

Okay, now he's actually just confused.

"Yes. I'm ... I love most is your arms."

*Okayyy, so she did all this- to talk about my arms?*, Damian thinks

"So strong... they can hold me and- others too."

You start getting more comfortable in the real subject of the matter. You reach up to grace your hands on Damian's shoulders.

"You can hold and carry me and others of different ages..."

Damian is getting anxious now, what is she talking about, specifically? How does this relate to his musculature? Why was she so nervous to speak to him? 

You decide to finish this dance in one move. From the shoulders you run your hands down his toned arms. Slowly you find his palms and, without breaking his gaze, bring his hands to your lower belly. 

"I'm Pregnant." 

...

You see his eyes pop and you swear you can feel his heart skip a beat from the pulses on his wrist. He turns down to look at his hands and you follow suit. Now it's his turn to stare and have shaky hands. His eyes are intense and his skin is stressed to have every bit of surface area on your womb. You lean back more and give him some time to process. When he's ready, he will let you know just like he always does~

[iguana-eyanna]

An Honest Man

Pairing: Alfred Pennyworth x pregnant reader

Summary: After parting ways with Alfred, you found out something unexpectedly that could change both your futures

Warning: language, mentions of alcohol,

You arrived at the door you've once visited many times. You slowly take a deep breath and knock on the door.

You could hear your heart pounding against your chest as your nerves took over your body.

You could hear footsteps coming and see the door open slowly. A familiar face greets you at the door, smiling at you widely.

"Oh my goodness, hello dearie! I haven't seen you in ages!" Mary Pennyworth said, hugging you tightly.

You smile back as you hugged her too.

"I'm sorry to intrude at a time like this." You said, almost about to cry.

Mrs. Pennyworth lets go to see if you were alright and rubs your arm.

"Let's come inside, I'll warm up the kettle."

You haven't been to the Pennyworth's in a few months since you've broken up with their son, Alfred Pennyworth.

Yes, the infamous man who will never take no for an answer.

When you started dating, it started innocently. He was a gentleman, and made sure you were protected and loved.

But along the way, he started to lose the 'love' part.

Since the divide in England, Alfred was trying to make enough money to leave the country and move to America. His mother didn't like the idea of leaving her life behind, especially when so many people need help. You felt the same too, but you tried to support Alfred.

After losing the money and his closest friend, he began to change. He became ruthless and unforgiving.

That was the last straw as he kept on lying to you like he did with his mum. He'll never be the honest man he once was.

Mrs. Pennyworth returns with your tea as you sat by the couch.

"Thanks, Mrs-"

"Oh love, you know you could always call me mum. Even if you aren't with my son, I always thought of you as a daughter."

"Thank you, mum." You said, feeling better as you took a sip of your tea.

You place the mug down and place your hands on your lap, bunching the fabric of your skirt.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you, but I don't know how you'll react."

She gives you a sympathetic smile.

"I think the world of you, nothing will change my mind of that."

For some reason, you began to sob. Mrs. Pennyworth became alert, and joined you at the couch as she hugged you tightly, soothing you.

"I'm-I'm pregnant... with Alfred's baby." You muffled out.

She became shocked at first, but rubbed your back as you were starting to calm down.

You started to sit straight, still sniffling with the handkerchief she soon gave you.

"I thought I was getting sick and realized I was missing my time of the month. I blamed it on the stress after everything that's been going on, so I went to a doctor. He said I'm at least 3 months along, and I want to have this baby."

"Oh my love, I'm sorry you had to through that alone. You should have told me sooner..." She said.

"You're not- upset?" You ask.

"Why would I? You're about to make me a grandmother!" She said, hugging you again.

You gave out a relieved chuckle as you leaned on her shoulder.

"What I'm more upset about is my son, stubborn as his father." She said. You've heard around that she kicked him out of her home and that they weren't on speaking terms.

"I haven't told him yet... I don't think I'm ready for that moment."

Mrs. Pennyworth looks at you with a smile and holds your hand.

"Take all the time you need, I hope one day that Alfred comes to his senses and sees that he's been acting like a fool. For now, if you like, you could stay with me as long as you need to. I don't like how you're living alone out there, it's too dangerous." She said, as you wrote letters to her from the past weeks, keeping her date of how you were.

"Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me." You said, giving a tearful smile as you two hug again.

From then on, you stayed with her during your pregnancy. It has been a bit hard as you still haven't approached Alfred yet and have countless moments where you wish he was here with you. His mum made sure to help you like picking out baby clothes and gave helpful tips for when the baby is born.

You were nearing the end of your trimester, and you were cooking dinner for the two of you. The phone began to ring and Mary said she'd be able to answer it.

"Hello?" she asks.

"Mum, it's me, Alfred..." he said through the line.

Mary looks over to the kitchen to see if you were paying attention, but you were looking down at your belly and smiling.

"Now's not a good time, son." She whispered.

"I want to make up for everything for these past few weeks. Would it be alright if I could come so we could talk?" He asks, really wanting to make things right with his mother.

"Mum, the baby's kicking again!" You yelled out.

Alfred couldn't believe who he heard in the background.

"Mum, is that-"

"Hush now, she doesn't know you're on the phone." she whispered.

"Just a moment darling! I'll be right there." she says out loud.

"Why did she said there's a baby kicking?" Alfred asks, clueless.

Mary takes a deep breath, as she doesn't want to betray your trust but knows that her son is trying to mend the torn bond between them.

"I promised not to say anything, but know that she still loves you. She needs you more than ever, Alfie. For my sake, come here and tell her what you need to before it's too late." She said, hanging up.

Alfred was still confused as to what happened. Then suddenly, everything clicked.

"Christ." Alfred muttered to himself, as his eyes were almost popping outside of his head. For the rest of his day, he was alone with his thoughts.

How far along were you?

Did you have to go through this alone?

Were you sleeping alright?

Alfred hasn't been sleeping well either these past nights, either pouring himself in martinis and women. He felt sick to the stomach, as nothing mattered to him anymore, not even money.

As he stared at up at his office ceiling, he knew what he had to do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a loud persistent knocking that woke you up. You slowly got up in bed, as you stayed in Alfred's room.

You'd hope that Mary would get the door as you felt tired from another restless night. The knocking continued, so you grab a cardigan and slowly went down the stairs, realizing that Mary must have stepped out.

"Hello?" You ask, not knowing who'd be behind the door.

"Love?" said a voice you've once known, like a record you once loved to play every night.

You were too stunned to speak, slightly panicking.

"Mary's not here." you stuttered out, placing a hand on your beating heart.

"I came to see you, love. Please, I just want to make sure you're alright."

You hesitantly grab the knob of the door and slowly open it. You were hiding in the back of the door, using it as a shield. You then see Alfred after so many months. There were so many things you could say, but only a few words flew out of your mouth.

"You look like shit."

Alfred couldn't help but laugh. It was true: he has been living off on alcohol and 3 hours of sleep each night.

"May I come in?" He asks.

You move the door aside so he can come in. You then closed the door, not wanting him to look at you.

He slowly closes in the proximity, trying to hold your hand.

"Let me see you." He says quietly. He wasn't demanding, but you knew in his tone that he had to know the truth.

You slowly turn around, unbuttoning your cardigan as you reveal your sleeping gown that hugged your midsection. Alfred looks down, remaining his cool but you knew his mind swirled with thoughts.

"H-How many months-"

"Six." You interrupted.

He nodded in a small motion.

"I tried to tell you, Alfred. But the way we ended... I just wanted to figure things out myself." You said, feeling the room shrink around you.

"I understand... I just- wished I was there for you." He said.

You unintentionally release a scoff.

"I think that's a bit too late for that." You said, waddling to the kitchen to get some water.

Alfred follows you, feeling a bit annoyed.

"I came to apologize, I just want to make things right like before." Alfred said.

You took a glass of water, placing the cup back on the counter.

"Even before our breakup, we were arguing day and night and would end up with angry sex. I don't think I want that." You said.

Alfred is trying to keep his temper in check.

"Can't you see that I'm trying?" He asks, his voice becoming louder.

You give him a death glare as your eyes sparked like a growing fire.

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me! These past two years, all that you've been fighting for is yourself and what you want. You want to go to America. You don't want to fight in this war unless it concerns to you. I fought for us, Alfred! Every single fucking day I fought for us. And now, my priorities is to this baby that we made together. It is the only piece of you that I love. So don't you think you could just walk back into this home that you've been kicked out of and try to piece back a relationship that you've didn't want to be serious in the first place." You said, your chest rising and falling like a wave.

In recent years, Alfred has taken punches, bullets, and knife wounds.

But your words hurt him the hardest. All he could do was stand and take every blow you swung at him, cause that's what he deserved.

You can't handle his silence, as your eyes prick with tears.

"I can't do this, Alfie. I'm done being angry, I don't what to feel like this anymore." You said, beginning to cry.

At that moment, Alfred breaks out of his spell. He closes in quickly and hugs you tightly, carefully picking you up and carry you to the sofa. He mutters sweet nothings in your ear as he kisses the top of your head.

"I shouldn't have pushed you out. There's no excuse for the way I've been acting lately. I feel like I've been losing everyone I love and I don't want to lose you indefinitely. That fear just kept on growing every night, and my worst nightmares became a reality. I'm so sorry love." Alfred says, as he too became to cry.

You hold onto him tighter, missing the way he felt in your arms.

"You broke my heart, Alfie. How will I know you won't break it again?" You ask in a whisper.

He pulls away, trying to find something in his left pocket.

"I earned this with honest work, cause I want to be an honest man to you and our lil' one."

He soon took out a small box, revealing a simple engagement ring.

"I should have done this a long time ago, I wanted to marry you since the day I met you. But I got prideful and took you for granted. I don't expect you to say yes now, but I wanted to show you how serious I am about us. So take the time you need, even by the time we're growing white hairs and wrinkles."

You chuckle, wiping away your tears.

"I want to work on us before we take the next step if that's alright." You said, unsure how he'll respond.

"That's more than alright, love." He said, joining your forehead with him as you gave him another chance.

Later on, Alfred was back home with his mum and had a tearful reunion. He made sure that he built the crib and got a bigger bed for you to share.

When your water broke, Alfred was there for every moment, even when the nurses tried to kick him out. He was glued to your side and took your insults like a champ.

Now, you were staring down at your daughter, Felicia Mary Pennyworth.

"I was wondering why you chose that name." Alfred asks as he sat next to you on the hospital bed.

"I wanted to give her the nickname Phee, like how her daddy is called Alfie." You said.

Alfred smiles and kisses your temple, getting emotional as he looks at his precious angel.

"It's perfect."

You look at him, feeling proud at how much Alfred has changed for the better. He became the man you loved so much.

And that's when you knew your answer.

"Alfred, do you still have the- you know." You ask a bit shyly.

He was about to ask what until his eyes widen. He gets off of the bed, patting his clothes until he found what he was looking for.

"I never left home without it. Are you sure about this?" He asks, not wanting you to feel pressured or rushed.

"I never felt more sure in my life." You said.

Alfred takes a deep breath, and bent on one knee as he opened the box for the engagement ring.

"I was a fool once for letting you go. You gave me something wonderful and I still don't have enough to show how grateful I am to have me back in you and our daughter's lives. So, will you marry me?"

"Oh my days!" a voice screams out. You and Alfred turn around to see Mary looking gobsmacked as she just arrived to your room.

"Mum!" Alfred replies, making you laugh.

"I'm sorry dear, carry on." She said, stepping away, but making sure she wasn't too far so she can hear.

You nod your head up and down as your smile became wider.

"Yes, I will marry you."

Alfred breaks out in the biggest smile and gets up, kissing you passionately. He slides the ring on your finger and kisses your hand.

"I love you, and I can't wait for us to be a family." He says, as more tears began to pour.

You wipe them away as you kiss his eyelids.

"We already are, Alfie. Nothing will ever change that."

Alfred calls back his mum as she congratulated you two on the proposal and the birth of her granddaughter who was named after her.

From then on, nothing torn your love for the man that you fell in love with.

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

[batsycline69]

Full

Summary: You find out Bruce keeps closer track of your menstrual cycle than you thought. You also find out why.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Words: 4.8k

Content/warnings: description of scars, baby fever, established relationship, thigh riding, strength kink if you squint, mentions of having children/getting pregnant, breeding kink, p in v sex

“Are you kidding me?”

The sounds of wings rustle above head as your voice carries through the Batcave. Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you glare at Bruce. On the monitor of the bat computer, over a year’s worth of your menstrual cycle is displayed, carefully cataloged by your husband.

When Bruce came back from patrol, you gave him some time to clean up, hoping to pull him away from work. You’d mentioned seeing the cutest baby while you were out for coffee this morning, to which he replied, “is this because you’re ovulating?” To which you replied, “excuse me?”

Bruce took only a few seconds to pull up his records; little black boxes around the days you’ve had foul moods all courtesy of your luteal phase, little red boxes around your period weeks. He has little ciphers on certain days, and you suspect he’s logged the days you’ve had sex.

His expression hasn’t changed a bit despite your reaction. He’s still just as serious and unreadable as ever.

“We have sex. It’s smart to track.”

“It’s invasive! You could have at least told me you were doing this.”

“Do you keep track?” he asks pointedly.

You scowl at him. “What does that have to do with this?”

“How soon would you know if you missed a period?” He sounds smug without changing his tone; it’s one of his many astounding abilities. You hate that he’s made a good point, even if it doesn’t fully justify his prying. Then again, you were fully aware of Bruce’s endeavors as Batman when you got married. Prying came with the territory.

“I don’t know. A week or two. It’s not always that exact. But it’s not like I wouldn’t notice.” You bristle at the minuscule movement of Bruce’s eyebrow as it quirks up. To think you’d come down here to fuck him. “Point being, I don’t need you to keep track of my body. I’m perfectly capable.”

He stands up from his chair, taking a step towards you. Silence. You hate how well Bruce does silence, hate the way he weaponizes it against you. But you’re not backing down. Not until he expresses some sort of awareness that he went too far.

The look in his eyes tells you not to hold your breath. He still looks just as serious as ever, yet a slight change of the glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s arriving at his point. He steps within arms’ reach. You have a feeling leaving just enough space is part of his plan. He’s upping the anticipation. But he’s going to have to try harder than that.

“If I came in you tonight, you could end up carrying my baby.” His voice rumbles in his chest, eyes unwavering.

Fuck.

You feel your face get hot, still trying to keep your composure. He wants a reaction—manipulative asshole—but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s not going to change the subject just like that.

“Thanks, Batman, but I know how ovulation works,” you snap, turning over your shoulder. You’re not making any progress, and even if Bruce’s proposal has you feeling that familiar ache inside of you again, you can’t let him win now. You only stop when he catches your arm with his sturdy hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. You’ve never been out with him while he’s doing his Batman business—that’s his world, not yours—but you imagine this is how he treats his prey when he knows they don’t stand a chance. A cocky air without being showy. He doesn’t need to prove he could take you down in an instant; you already know it’s true.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Back upstairs.”

“I thought you came down here for something,” he replies, voice smooth. He tugs you so you’re at his side. He’s not gentle about it, but the movement is controlled.

“Yeah, well that was before I found out about your little project.”

His hand slides down your arm before running up your shirt, stopping at your waist. You shiver from the cold cave air that brushes your skin. “It’s practical,” Bruce says.

“Practical.” You scoff.

But then again, Alfred does always make your favorite cookies around the time the boxes are shaded in gray. There are also those days when Bruce is a little more willing to follow you when you entice him out of the cave.

Even if you weren’t expecting this turn of events, the more you mull it over, the more it begins to click. Dick’s been out west for months now, leaving Wayne Manor feeling emptier than ever. Bruce has been burying himself in work to make up for the loss, not that he’s admitted that to you. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself.

You narrow your eyes a little more at him. “Is this a thing for you or something?”

He smirks. You hate it when he smirks like that. Except you don’t, not really, because he looks so good when hes smug. That’s the worst part. As you stare back at him, unwavering, you curse his stupidly handsome face. A guy that gets beat up every night shouldn’t look that good. It’s just not fair.

“What if it is?” he asks, pompous attitude lingering.

His voice is low, using his ability to have all the control in a conversation all while hardly speaking above a whisper. He knows he has your attention. Knows his words are having an effect on you. Warmth pools back into your core, familiar ache between your legs. You remember why you came down here to begin with. His gaze is bright. Hungry. Fixed on you.

God, are you and Bruce going to have to talk about kids? It’s not like you’ve never noticed the way his eyes soften whenever there’s a baby around. He loves kids. But he doesn’t have a night life conducive to having a child.

But he’s keeping track of your cycle, so I guess how surprised can you be, really? Alfred’s cookies are a nice perk, but he’s three steps ahead of you. He’s thinking about the future like always. And apparently that future has babies.

“Then...that’s a conversation we could have,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“Some other time,” Bruce murmurs, his breath brushing against your lips. In other words, hes already thought about it and has a plan.

He wraps his arm around your waist beneath your shirt, drawing you close. His chest presses up against your crossed arms, unconcerned with your attitude towards him. He isn’t actually smirking, but his eyes give it away, which means he wants them to give it away.

Water rushes from the falls across the cave, dropping down to the pool of water at the bottom. The air is cool and smells like wet rock. Your familiarity of the space hasn’t made it any less dark or cold, but the foreboding nature had dwindled. You grew to associate it with a young boy’s laughter, listening to it mature over time. You think of how many nights you’ve sat up, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for Bruce to come back home among the stalactites. You think of messy arguments and fights and of family.

The glow of Bruce’s monitor lights up only half his face. He looks tired, though you couldn’t be able to say so without him shutting down the conversation entirely. But the exhaustion he won’t admit to doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably picturing you with his cock buried all the way inside you.

He doesn’t say a word as his head dips to meet your lips softly. His hands, calloused by the years of his mission, hold you like an ever-present reminder of why he does what he does. His touch is reverent, large hands splayed out across your sides.

Despite the hunger in his gaze, he takes his time with you. Lips capturing yours with expert precision, as he approaches all things. It isn’t long before Bruce whisks you off to the bedroom. Expensive, luxurious cotton surrounds you, contrasting with Bruce’s rough hands as they run up the length of your bare skin. His lips trail the length of your neck, hands devouring the surfaces of your curves. It’s not often you manage to capture his attention so completely, but god, do you revel in it when you do.

Like so much about him, Bruce’s undivided attention is intense. He’s told you once you tether him to the light; he’s bound to you because without you, he’d be lost. You’re used the dramatics. As much as you could tease him for that, you never did because he believes it. He thinks, on some level, you’ve saved him just as much as Dick has. You’ve never seen yourself as something so extraordinary, but when Bruce puts aside the masks, you become something else entirely new in your own eyes.

It’s late now, and your body squirms against Bruce. He’s taking his time with you, depriving you both of what you’re after now. His lips pay service to their admiration of you, tasting every inch of your skin. Bruce is firm with his movements. He’s controlled, but gentle. You wanted him up here, and he wants to prove to you he’s here.

“Bruce…” you whine, his kisses peppering over your chest, stomach. He shifts down to the waistband of your sleep shorts, the only thing that remains on your body. Thin cotton is now all that prevents Bruce from full access to you.

He pays you no mind, focused on the task at hand, regardless of whether it’s what you want of him. You asked for this. You asked for him. “Don’t be too eager,” he mutters, voice muffled against you.

Cocky bastard. Don’t be too eager comes out easy when he’s the one drawing things out. You’re sure that’s his plan, too. He wants to see how far he can take this, how long he can make you wait before you’re fully coming undone beneath his fingertips. It’s one of his favorite games.

You think of Bruce’s words in the cave, wondering what the sounds of little laughter would sound like echoing in these vast halls. Wondering how far a baby’s cry would be heard.

Bruce senses your mind beginning to wander. You’re not sure how, but you’ve learned better than to question these sorts of things. He has his ways, has his years of training, has his ever-focused mind. His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly.

Your hand rakes through his thick dark hair, tangling into the curls. He showered after patrol. His hair is free of its usual product to keep it slicked back. He looks more undone than most in Gotham would be accustomed to, but this is your favorite way to see Bruce. Wild. Less burdened by the masks he wears. He’s not trying to be Bruce Wayne, nor is he trying to be Batman.

He’s in nothing but his sweatpants, the outline of his hard-on clear in the faint moonlight.

“You can’t put a baby inside me from out there,” you say, your voice needy. You already know your half-baked attempt at getting what you want isn’t going to work, but you can try.

You do get a reaction out of him, but it’s far from what you’d hoped. The weight of the bed shifts as Bruce sits up onto his elbow. His steely eyes fall to your lusty expression from beneath his heavy brows. Your eyes are glossed over with the weight of your want. “I’m the one doing the teasing here,” he says sternly, his Batman side showing a little more. But you can tell you’ve definitely struck something.

“I’m not teasing,” you whine.

A possessiveness intensity grows on Bruce’s face. You’ve spoken the magic words, and there’s something feral within him that crawls up to the surface. It’s a side of him you’re perfectly aware exists, but not one you often see first hand. This is Batman; this is the predator that stalks to get what he’s after.

You gasp as you’re pinned down before you even blink. Bruce has your wrists above your head. His hips cage you in, bulge pressing where you want him most. But he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips, try to give yourself more of what you seek, but you’re stuck beneath Bruce’s weight, his erection pressing up against you with little you can do.

He smirks down at you, and if he hadn’t gotten you so worked up, you’d be able to think about how insufferable he really is. But right now, you’re too wound up, hips just barely grinding against him in search of friction that just isn’t enough.

Bruce’s lips brush up against your neck. Shivers run down your spine. His teeth bite down, not quite hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to show he’s not messing around. Hard enough for your breath to hitch, your hips bucking up to meet him to no avail. You’re not moving unless he wants you to.

“Bruce…” you pout.

“Be patient. I’ll take care of you.” His muttered assurances do little to ease the aching inside you, however. The soft grumble into your ear only makes it worse. The sound of his voice after a long patrol, body fighting sleep he’s been putting off for far too long. But he won’t let that stop him; you’ve called for him, and he’s here in your time of need.

He nibbles on your jaw as his hand slides up, calloused fingertips softly circling your sensitive nipple. You let out a needy whimper, mind dizzy with desire and deprivation. Your fingers curl into the sheets, back arching for more contact.

“We would make a beautiful baby,” he mutters. Your eyes are closed, brows pressed up, but you can hear lingering amusement in his voice. Your body lurches with longing, its biological drive being stroked by Bruce’s words. “I’d fill this manor with our children if it meant getting to see your face in all of them.”

Your husband isn’t one to mince words, but when he wants to pull out the stops, you fall victim to him just as much as anyone else he’s ever charmed. You hate to admit it, but he knows just the right words to turn you to putty.

Bruce’s fingers finally dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, softly trailing down to run over the seam of your pussy.

Your breath hitches. Even the softest brush causes your hips to jerk, and this time, Bruce obliges.

His fingers dip between your folds, collecting your slick to trace agonizingly slow circles around your clit. Your eyes are closed, but you know he’s studying you, cataloging every minor movement of your expression, looking for all the best spots. These are the skills that’s earned him his playboy reputation in Gotham. The people who give rave reviews about fucking Bruce Wayne aren’t lying.

But Bruce so often sees his body as only a tool. A means to fight crime or gain information. A body may be a tool for creating children, but this is more than just that. Bruce uses his skills, longing to make something good of them. Desperate for more than blood on his hands, more than violence and fear.

It’s not long until he has you at the precipice of your climax. One of many, if this encounter is to be like any of your others. When your moans get needier, louder, indicating you’re close to your tipping point, Bruce stops. His fingers pull away, tracing up your stomach, splaying out over the skin. He’s perfectly aware of how badly you need this; that’s exactly why he’s putting it off.

“I told you to be patient,” he warns. He’s not going to rush through this. He plans to take his time with you. He pushes himself up, and from this new angle, you see the bulge in his sweatpants, half-hard cock pressed up enough to see a very clear outline.

Longing pools in the pit of your stomach, eyes skimming the scarred surface of his skin. Scar tissue puckers, each one even lighter than the rest of Bruce’s sun-deprived complexion. Deep bruises scatter across his body, some faint and green, fading away to nothingness, while others are dark; blue and purple, splotchy and angry.

He pulls down the sweatpants. His cock springs out, illuminated beautifully by the moonlight pouring through his window. You watch the muscles on his perfectly sculpted ass move as he tosses the sweatpants to the floor. He looks like a warrior carved out of marble, even in the darkness of his bedroom. The thick muscles tense as he moves.

You spread your legs, eagerly awaiting for him to slot himself inside, but he doesn’t. His thick fingers wrap around his length, grasping tight, slowly stroking himself. A soft grunt comes from the back of his throat, and you sigh just from hearing it. He slips a thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, a breathy groan following after as you begin to follow Bruce’s wordless command.

Your hips grind against the muscles of his thigh, watching as he works himself harder and harder. His free hand comes up, working through the hair that’s fallen in his face. Yet again, he looks like artwork. Muscles clear against his skin from a long night of patrol. Scarred flesh across his rippling torso, across his arms and legs.

You’ve never adjusted seeing Bruce so scarred; each time, you think of how much is at stake when he goes out at night. The scars are a testament to Bruce’s loyalty, but not to you. To his city, whenever she needs him.

She is the woman he’s given his heart to, no matter the ring on your finger. You could bare his child, fill up Wayne Manor with adorable giggles, and he would still turn to her each and every night. As difficult as that is to accept, it’s one of the things that had driven you to Bruce in the first place.

His eyes don’t stray from the sight of you before him, grinding against his leg, smearing your slick over him. Ever observant, but telling nothing. You used to worry when he stared at you like that during sex; the ferocity was unnerving. Were you doing something wrong? Making an awkward face? But you’ve since learned the honor of capturing Bruce’s attention. Such a fleeting thing, so often preoccupied with his mission, so seldom letting dedication give way to pleasure.

But then there are these times when the call of your body outshines his endless duty. When he isn’t thinking of the future, but thinking of right now. Thinking of you. And, apparently, fucking a baby into you.

Bruce coats the tip of his swollen cock with precum as he works himself. He drops, catching himself against the mattress with one hand, still pumping his cock in the other. “Do you want it?” he asks, voice low. Eyes wild. You feel him brush up against your entrance.

You nod, mouth agape in a raunchy display of how badly you want him.

His tip pushes inside and you gasp. He holds himself up on an elbow as he half-thrusts into you. You squirm beneath him trying to satiate the urgent need to be full. His head ducks down into your neck; his breath is hot against your skin as he lets out a sigh. Bruce will never ask for safety, nor will he admit he needs it. But even when he dons the batsuit, there is still some part of him that’s a terrified child, alone in an alley.

You are safety he won’t ask for. Shelter he’s never known to seek. Security he is terrified to lose.

He eases himself in slowly, making sure you feel every vein as he sinks deeper into you.

Your hands land on his back, nails digging into the skin. Breath catches in your throat and your back arches against Bruce.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, already perfectly aware of the answer.

You let out a breathy affirmation, eyes fluttering shut as he hits something blindingly sweet inside of you. All day, you’d been wanting this, aching to feel him. Daydreaming of being split open on his dick. Now you have it, and it’s even better than you were thinking.

He holds himself in you for a minute, and your walls flutter around him. Lips brush over skin, quickened breaths hold space in the silence as you both grasp onto one another until eventually he starts rutting against you, nudging at the already aching spot deep within you.

Bruce’s resolve never crumbles, fucking you with the same level of intention as he does anything else in his life. He keeps his pace steady, his face concentrated. His eyes slip shut, brows pinched together.

“Feels so good,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“I know it does,” Bruce coos, hand gripping the back of your neck. “I want it to feel good when I put my baby in you.”

And god, does that do something to you. His movements feel even more blissful, your biological urges getting stroked just as much as your pussy. Whether this is a wise decision or not remains to be seen, but you’re too fucked out to think straight, and it’s not like your baby fever brain is going to tell you anything contrary.

He holds onto your hips, practically folding you to thrust in deeper. You cry out, pleasure causing something syrupy to build within you yet again.

“Take it slow, darling,” he says. “I want us to cum together. You can wait, can’t you?”

His dirty talk is the one thing that didn’t seem to change once you knew he was Batman, the one thing that hadn’t dissipated from the persona. As usually non-verbal as Bruce was, he loved to dirty talk.

“Not like this…” you reply breathlessly. Not when he’s hitting just the right spot, not when the warmth inside of you feels absolutely molten and you can feel yourself squeezing around him.

Bruce grunts, a characteristic sign of his disapproval. “Do you need a break?” He doesn’t mean to sound patronizing; it just comes naturally to him. Like it’s your fault he fucks you like a man deprived. But before you can call him out on it, he takes a hand away from your hips, lowering himself onto an elbow yet again. “Do you need to cool down?” His teeth graze your earlobe gently, his voice growing just slightly sweeter.

He dips his head down back into your neck, nipping at the skin, a hand trails up your side, cupping a breast in his palm. “I don’t want to rush.”

“Of course not,” you scoff, still working to catch your breath. Your hips jerk towards him again, trying replicate his thrusts somehow, but he doesn’t allow you what you seek. You squeeze around him, trying to persuade him to fuck into you again, but Bruce’s iron will doesn’t give.

“Breathe,” he whispers. His fingers brush up against your pulse point, shivers running down your spine from the gentle gesture. “I’ll let you cum soon. I promise.”

You’ve learned a long time ago that Bruce’s promises only go so far. He promises to show up for the dinner reservations he booked, only for Alfred to tell you he stepped out as soon as you’re ready. He promises for a day without Batman, only for him to sneak down to the cave as soon as he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

For all you know, he means to draw this out until the sun rises. It’s not like it’d be the first time.

He leans in until he’s just a breath away. He nips at your bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. You hear his deep chuckle as he tugs on the lip, his cock twitching inside of you. Once again, you try to grind down, try to seek more of his length. He frees your lip from its arrest before diving back in. He kisses you, passionate yet soft. Back to that devout touch.

You respond greedily, legs still bent at his hips. Your fingers curl into his hair, holding him against you.

He pulls back. He raises his hand, cupping your jaw in his palm. Eyes fixed on you.

“I love you, you know.”

Bruce doesn’t say it often; he’s admitted so himself. You’ve known for a long time now to expect the unconventional with your husband. Love confessions while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you is the closest the two of you get to normal.

“If you love me, you’d let me cum,” you pout.

He chuckles softly. “I thought you liked it when I’m sweet.” Taunting you again. He’s lucky you do love him otherwise you would never put up with all his bullshit. Coming home bleeding. Leaving you to worry about him while he runs around Gotham. Putting off your orgasm when he knows how badly you need it.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. You feel his heart pounding against your chest. His cock jerks against your walls.

Without warning, he sinks back into you. You gasp, nails digging back into his skin at the sudden movement. His movements are deep and sure, hitting that same spot inside of you. “Oh fuck!” you cry, head thrown back against the pillows. “Fuck, Bruce, just like that.”

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he growls into the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t leave you so desperate.”

Bruce thrusts into you, pushing deep, hitting the spots he knows will leave you too fucked out to move once he’s finished with you. Warmth pools back in your core as your pleasure builds back up from where Bruce left you. You clutch him against you, demanding your release. And this time, he shows you mercy.

Bruce moans against you. Even for his expert precision, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, more frantic. He’s close.

You bite down on his shoulder. Bruce’s groans louder.

“Do you want me to come inside you, darling? Do you want me to give you a baby?” His voice is rough, a sign that his composure is cracking.

“Uh-huh…” You nod, gripping onto him like a vice so he doesn’t even consider pulling away from you.

“I will,” he murmurs.

Your sighs and pants join together, both of you wrapped so tightly around the other where you truly do feel like one. Being deprived of your orgasm has you frenzied, chasing after your high. And this time, Bruce follows through.

Your climax hits you like a train. For a few seconds, your ears are ringing, and you stare up at Bruce blankly, too blissed out to see.

He slams into you, hips stuttering. His hand cups your neck, eyes pinched shut. As he tosses his head back, you think of the rareness of this moment. Expression pinched with pleasure, Bruce makes good on his promise, spilling into you. You feel his cock pulsing, softly grinding against you, making sure every drop fills your pussy.

He falls on top of you, cock still buried inside of you. His weight is comforting, if just a little suffocating. But your body thrums with the electricity of your orgasm. Fingertips tingling, sweat beading up on your skin. Your walls throb around him, his seed warm inside in hopes of taking root.

The two of you are silent as you catch your breath, coming down from your bliss. The room is dark, and yet you feel absolutely bathed in light, warm and heavy.

You let out a soft whimper when Bruce finally pulls out, feeling cold and empty in his absence. He rises to his knees and observes his work, eyes sparkling as he watches his cum leak out of you. He swipes his thumb along your clit. You squirm, still sensitive from your peak.

“You’re irresistible, do you know that?” he asks you, still kneeling above you. Cum drips from his tip, sliding down his still-hard shaft.

Had you any energy left to speak, you’d remind him how he’s usually quite able to resist you, but you don’t want to ruin the afterglow of all of that. Not when you can watch Bruce’s scarred belly rising and falling from his exertion. Not after feeling his heart beating in time with yours as he pumps you full of his cum.

You hum contentedly, too spent for words, laying in the afterglow of the sex. The sounds of Bruce moving about the room only partially register in your mind until the bed shifts with his weight again. You jolt slightly, shaken from your stupor as Bruce gently cleans up the cum leaking from you.

“I meant what I said.” Bruce doesn’t look up as he speaks. “We’d have beautiful children.”

A tired smile crawls on your face as you look back at him. “We will,” you reply.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider giving this a reblog 💛

[twilight-orchid]

You’re Going To Be A Grand….Bat

Part 2 to Shower Suprise Part 3

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Word count 2,303

You bounced your foot impatiently as you and Jason sat in the gynecologist’s purposefully pastel waiting room. He watched you look anxiously around the space, your eyes never settling on any one thing and your head perking to every name called. You fiddled with your new engagement ring, a small smile curling into his lip upon seeing it. He held your right hand gently but firmly, his thumb rubbing circles along your soft skin. He slipped his grip up to your wrist, pressing just enough to feel your wild heartbeat racing.

“Hey, look at me doll.” He said lowly. You turned to look at him, your eyes possessing a frantic look and your pretty face twisted with worry. He let go of your hand to cup your cheek.

“It’ll be alright sweetheart. Either way it goes, it’ll be alright. You just gotta stay calm and breathe. Can you breathe for me?” You closed your eyes as you sucked in a shuddered breath, but you matched his in and exhales. You were both 99% sure you were pregnant, that’s not what you were nervous about.

After further deliberation, the two of you had decided to keep the baby. Jason felt nervous, excited, stressed, ecstatic, and terrified all at the same time. He’d spent the whole night reading about the first trimester of pregnancy and researched what you would learn at the first ultrasound. That was why you were nervous.

They’d go over basics: how far along you are, the baby’s measurements, listen to the heartbeat, etc. However, they’d also possibly hear some bad news: Ectopic pregnancy, developmental screenings, and genetic abnormality screenings are what had you stressing. Of course, chances were everything would be fine, but the couple was still understandably scared.

“Y/l/n?” A nurse called from the now open door. Jason squeezed your hand then stood, grabbing your bag and following you into the office. She confirmed your identity, took your height and weight, then led you into a small room. She had you sit on the cold blue exam table, the paper crinkling as Jason helped you up. He took his place at the chair by your side then once again grabbed your hand. You met his eyes and smiled nervously.

“Alright, I understand we’re doing an ultrasound today?” You nodded and she smiled warmly at you both. She took your basic intake info then had you lay down.

“Now I’m just an exam tech. The doctor will be in after to go over the results with you, okay? Pull your shirt up to your bust and relax. Oh, and sorry in advance, this will be cold.” Once you were settled, she squeezed a clear gel onto your bare belly making you shudder.

“Jesus fuck. That is cold.” Jason chuckled. Between the two of you his kid would be cursing like a sailor by 2.

You both watched the technicians face closely for any sign of what she was seeing as she waved the wand along your belly, but she had an impeccable poker face. And, as someone raised to analyze facial expressions, he couldn’t get a read of her at all. Impressive.

The exam thankfully only took a few minutes and the technician quickly departed to share the results with the doctor. Jason grabbed a couple of the cheap, rough paper towels and brought them over. You thanked him with a smile then moved the wipe the slick gel off. He tossed them for you as soon as you were done.

“You okay doll?” He asked. You still looked beyond anxious.

“I’m fine, just impatient.”

“Well that much I know.” He teased. You smiled and smacked his arm. He pretended to be hurt as if Superman himself had slugged him.

“Oh shut up, drama queen.” You laughed. There was a knock at the door before he could respond.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Hall and I’ll be going over your results with you today. I can see you’re both waiting anxiously, so I’ll cut to the chase: you’re 8 weeks pregnant.” The two now confirmed new parents looked at each other with excitement growing on their faces. He squeezed your hand tight.

“Wait, I didn’t finish.” The doctor interjected. The two froze and looked at her nervously. Oh no, was something wrong? She didn’t look like it was bad news though. A slight smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re pregnant with twins.” She said simply. If there were a window in the room, Jason would swear there’d be a bird suspended in air outside the way the world froze around him. You were the first to break the stunned silence.

“No, I’m not.” You denied, disbelief painting your tone. The doctor laughed.

“Yes, you are.” She grabbed a folder from the counter behind her and handed you a black and gray photo. Not just any photo, your ultrasound. The shock of twins dissipated when you saw the two little blobs that would be your babies.

“They’re not very visually developed at this stage, but you can see their little heads right here and this is their body. They’re about the size of raspberries right now. They’re both perfectly healthy so far as we can tell, but you’ll need to come in monthly for checkups.” Neither responded, their eyes glued to the paper. It suddenly felt very real for Jason. Pregnant wasn’t just a word and parenthood wasn’t just an idea; he already had two kids on the way. He had a whirlwind of emotions raging inside of him.

Twins. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, he thought. He heard you sniffle then turned to you to see tears rolling down your cheeks. He was worried for a moment before you wiped them away with a small laugh.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” The doctor smiled and handed you a tissue.

“It’s alright! Totally normal reaction with your hormones. Congratulations!” Jason still hadn’t said anything. He heard the conversation going on around him, but he felt like he was in a trance.

Twins. Two cribs, two car seats, two beds, twice the diapers, twice the bottles, twice the spit up, and more than likely half their sleep for the next couple years.

“I take it you’re the father?” She asked. Something clicked in his mind, and he looked up to meet your eyes. His head was still spinning, but he knew with you at his side everything would be okay. His signature handsome smile began growing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m the dad.”

You left with a copy of the ultrasound and your 12-week checkup scheduled. Once in the car the two of you made your way home.

“Jay, can I address the elephant in the room?” You asked from the passenger side.

“I mean sure but, we’re in the car and I don’t see an elephant anywhere.” He remarked making you scoff.

“Don’t be a smartass.” You chided. He let out a sigh.

“I know we need to tell Bruce.”

“He’s gonna find out sooner or later, and if you hide it for too long, he’s gonna get his feelings hurt.” Jason barked a laugh.

“You know we’re talking about Batman, right?”

“He’s human, Jay. And he’s really making an effort with you. If you don’t tell him he’s going to think you don’t trust him, it’ll hurt his feelings, and he’ll express it in anger or coldness. Better?” He groaned.

“Fine.” He made the turn that takes you out of the city to the suburbs where the manor was located.

“Wait we’re going right now?”

“I know he’s home right now, and most of my siblings aren’t. It’s as good a time as any.” You didn’t say anything, just squeezed the hand he had resting on your thigh.

“Can you let Al know we’re on the way?”

Telling Bruce had been an issue dancing around his mind just as much as the pregnancy itself. He didn’t expect B to be mad, but he doubted he’d be happy about it. For someone who had a small army of kids himself, B had been very clear about how dangerous it is to bring kids into their world. Plus, Jason had always said Bruce should give criminals the safe sex talks he and his siblings had received. The awkwardness alone would probably set them on a better path.

The manor was only about 20 minutes away from the hospital, so you reached your destination quickly. Which was good, because Jason’s nerves were already shot by the time you arrived. Alfred had clearly been waiting for you as the door was open by the time they were on the stairs.

“Master Todd, y/n, it’s good to see you both.” Alfred greeted with a smile.

“Hey, Al. Where’s B?” Alfred scoffed.

“Where he always is.” The trio made their way through the manor, into the study, then descended into the cave. Being that it was only 11am, they found Bruce in his street clothes typing away at the Bat-computer, his back to the entrance.

“Hey, B.” Jason greeted as they got closer. Bruce looked up from his research and turned to them with his universe famous resting bitch face.

“Jason, y/n.” He acknowledged with a nod before going back to his case. The couple looked anxiously at each other before Jason cleared his throat.

“B, we uh… we actually need to talk to you.” Jason said tentatively. That got Bruce’s attention.

He fully turned away from the computer to face you. You stared at the floor, your hands fiddling anxiously with the hem of your shirt. Jason looked him in the eye, but his face was controlled, intentional. He gripped a folder in his hand with white knuckled strength.

You were both nervous as hell.

He noticed the new ring on your finger, but you weren’t here to announce your engagement. This was something else. Something important that affected you both, that clearly involved Bruce, and that you were anxious about.

“Excuse me.” Alfred said with a small bow, dismissing himself.

“Actually Al, you should stay.” Jason added. Bruce and Alfred both raised a brow to that. There were several potential options mulling around Bruce’s mind, but one stood out as a prominent possibility.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.” He said, still painfully deadpan. You both froze, head snapping up like deer in headlights. Shit, you were pregnant.

“Are you serious?” He asked, his voice sterner than he meant it to be but he didn’t bother correcting himself. Jason approached and handed him the folder, then took a step back to your side, placing a reassuring hand on your hip. Bruce flipped it open with Alfred peering over his shoulder.

Bruce had never been there for the pregnancy of any of his kids and had never really been around pregnant people for any extended periods of time, but he knew what a sonogram looked like. And he also knew there weren’t typically two fetuses in the picture either.

“My god, you’re having twins?” Alfred exclaimed. The couple both nodded silently. Bruce sighed.

“After all the talks I had with you boys…” He muttered.

“We used a condom!” Jason defended.

“And birth control.” You added. Bruce groaned and ran a hand over his face.

He looked at Jason, his son. His son that had been through hell and seen the world at its worst. His son who died and was brought back angry and crazed. Bruce’s greatest failure. His son who went on a killing spree, following his own vengeful sense of justice. His son who, after everything, was trying to be a better man. He was a better man. A man who controlled his anger, who was denying vengeance for justice, who had settled in with a partner and really began building a life for himself. Bruce wasn’t the sort to load praise, he found words useless and pretty, so he preferred actions. However, he was proud of Jason in a way unique to his children. And now his son, whom he once thought lost, was having two kids of his own. Bruce sighed again.

“I’m not even 50 and you’re making me a grandpa?” He asked, the slightest quirk at the corner of his lip. The couple paused; a loading screen might as well have been floating above their heads.

“So you’re…” you began.

“Not pissed?” Jason finished. Bruce scoffed.

“No. You’re adults, you can make your own decisions.” He said plainly but paused.

“And, for the record, I think you’ll be great parents.” With that he turned back to the computer and set to work again.

“Oh, and congratulations on the engagement.” He yelled over his shoulder. You furrowed your brows.

“How did he- oh, right. World's greatest detective, I forgot.” Bruce snorted to himself at that last part.

“My congratulations to the both of you. How far along?” Alfred said as he approached the new parents to be.

“8 weeks.” You answered smiling brightly, your hand moving to your currently unchanged belly. Something warm lit in Jason’s chest.

“Well, I wish you luck informing the rest of the family, I’m rather thankful we don’t have neighbors. They’re sure to cause quite the ruckus in their excitement.”

“You think they’ll be excited?” You asked anxiously. Jason knew you were worried about your place in his massive and chaotic super family.

“Oh, babe, they’re gonna be through the roof. Two babies? You kidding? There’s gonna be a war from day 1 to be the favorite aunt or uncle.” You smiled, your nerves dying down.

“Everyone will be together for dinner tonight, perhaps you could join us then? I’m making tortellini.” Alfred tempted. Jason suddenly looked like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh, babe, we have to do it. You’ve never had Al’s homemade tortellini, absolutely killer.” You laughed.

“I guess we’ll see you for dinner tonight.”

Note: I know, I knoooow the twin trope is overdone but the image of Jason trying to juggle two toddlers is just too good. I have one more piece drafted then I may write the whole family reveal, but I’m anxious to write that many characters at once. Also I know I have a pretty nice Bruce, but I don't feel like Batman as a character needs to be an absuive ass to his kids to be himself. And again, I'm a new writer so I'm sorry if it's bad lol. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

[bia-wayne-west]

Damian is going to have a little sister [Damian Wayne x Pregnant! Batmom]

Summary: You take a pregnancy test and find out you are pregnant. You will have a little girl. Bruce, Alfred and their other three children are happy, except Demian. Your fourth baby is jealous of the new member of the family.

Personagens: Bruce Wayne [Batman], Damian Wayne [Robin], Dick Grayson [Nightwing], Jason Todd [Red hood], Tim Drake [Red Robin] and Reader [You]

Word count: 1,366

Warnings: jealousy, fear of abandonment and pregnancy.

A / N: Hi. I planned this fanfiction months ago, but I only had time to write today. I always imagined what it would be like if Batmom got pregnant. Demian would probably be jealous and wouldn't admit it. So, I decided to write about it.

I hope you like the imagine

Remember that I am a Brazilian girl. I am not fluent in English and I am still learning. I apologize if I have any errors. Feel free to correct me.

Go and read my other stories on my MASTERLIST.

REQUEST ARE OPEN. Do not be shy. Ask as many imagines as you want.

The test in your hands had two blue lines and your face had a huge smile. You had some suspicions, but you never imagined that after eight years of marriage, you would have a baby in your womb.

You thought you must be sterile because you had never been pregnant before, and even though the doctors said you were healthy, you didn't believe them. The test in your hand was proof that you were going to have five babies now.

You left the bathroom, putting the test in your pants pocket. The first person you saw when you left the master suite was Alfred. He will just come out of one of the guest rooms.

You ran to the butler you considered your second father. Alfred looked at you, thinking you were going to ask for something.

“Alfred, I'm pregnant!” You said it quickly, not having the courage to repeat it. The old man in front of you looked at you with wide eyes. After five seconds, he smiled at you.

It was difficult to make Alfred smile. He always maintained his serious appearance.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne. It’s great news.” Alfred said.

You showed the butler the pregnancy test. He congratulated her again and left, with the excuse that he had to clean Timothy's room. You could see a big smile on Alfred's face as he walked down the stairs to the second floor.

You remembered that Bruce was on the Wayne Enterprise, running some errands and that he wouldn't be back until after 8pm. Dick and Jason went to Wally West's house to play basketball. Timothy was at school.

Demian was the only one at home. He was probably in his room or in the garden with Titus.

You walked to the room that had the 'Do Not Enter' sign. You knocked on the door a few times, hearing your son's voice telling you that you could come in.

“Hi, my love.” You said to Damian, who was playing videogame. He was sitting on the bed. The boy smiled at you.

"Hi mommy. Did something happen?" He questioned, his eyes anxious.

You sat on the bed too, watching your son continue to play his game, but he was paying attention to you. .

“I have something new to tell you. I found out today, so only you and Alfred know about it.” You said, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the pregnancy test to show Damian.

The boy looked at the object curiously, until he realized what it really was. He looked at you in amazement, as if he thought it was just a joke.

"You are pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yes." After you nodded, you saw him give you a sad smile.

“I think this is amazing news, Mom,” Damian said. He no longer looked you in the eye, focusing his attention on the television while he played.

"Are you okay, darling?" You questioned, moving closer to Damian.

The boy just nodded, and didn't look at you anymore. Then, you realized that he didn't like the news, and preferred to leave him alone. You knew Damian didn't like expressing his feelings.

"If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen" You said, leaving your son's room and walking down the hallway.

As soon as Bruce arrived and you told him you were pregnant, he had the best reaction possible. Your husband was extremely happy and excited. And Dick, Jason and Tim also loved having a new little brother.

The weeks passed very quickly, and soon became months, and suddenly, you were seven months pregnant. You had already done all the ultrasounds and discovered that you were having your first daughter. You were excited to have a little princess, and Jason and Dick started teasing Bruce about how he really was a girl's daddy.

Everyone in your family seemed to be happy, except Damian. He never said out loud that he hated the baby, but you could see that he stopped wanting to spend time with you. The boy spent more time in his room or in the Batcave, avoiding being close to you. Bruce said the boy would accept that he would have a sister after the baby was born, but you knew you had to have a talk with Damian.

You walked slowly down to the clock that hid the entrance to the Batcave. It was difficult to walk with swollen feet. You knew that Bruce was on patrol, but that he left Damian on the Batcomputer. As soon as you got out of the elevator, you saw your son look at you, but quickly turn away. You walked over to Damian, giving him a gentle smile. The boy didn't look at you again.

"Hello, my dear." You said.

He didn't answer you, and started pretending to type on the keyboard.

"I wanted to talk to you a little."

Damian just grumbled.

"I know you're sad about my pregnancy." You said. "But you know that in two months there will be a baby here."

He continued ignoring you.

"If it's because of your father, you know Bruce loves all his children equally." You commented. "And that no baby in this world will make your father love you less."

Damian finally turned around, looking at you. He had red eyes, looking like he was going to cry.

"It's not about my father." He said. "Is you!" He exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"You know!" He roared. "You were the first person who liked me, even though you knew I was Bruce's biological son and that I was conceived when he was drugged by Talia." Damian continued speaking. "And now, you will have your own daughter. Who has your blood and Bruce's"

You looked at him, surprised.

"Are you afraid I'm going to leave you aside?" You wanted to know.

"My brothers don't seem to see what's going to happen. That you and Bruce are going to love the baby more than we do." He started to cry. "I love you and my dad, and I know that now you will have your own family."

You said, walking over to your son. You held him by the shoulders, making him face you.

"Damian, that will never happen!" You exclaimed. "You, Dick, Jason and Tim never stopped being my kids, my little birds."

He looked away, looking embarrassed.

"I thought you wouldn't treat me like your son anymore" He said.

"It's normal for you to be jealous and afraid of losing all the attention you receive, but I want you to know that our relationship will never change." You commented. "Now that the problem has been resolved, do you want to go upstairs so we can make some cupcakes together?"

Damian quickly got up from the chair he was in, and threw himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. He placed his head on your chest, and surprisingly, you felt him caressing your belly for the first time. You lowered your head to look at your son, smiling at him.

"Yes, I want to go make cupcakes, Mommy." He said, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe his tear-stained face.

You and Damian went up to the house, leaving the Batcave. He started talking to you again, saying that he had had a brief fight with Jon Kent, but that they had already made up. He also told you that he was doing a literature project for school in a group, and that it was very easy.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen, you grabbed all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and started mixing the cupcake batter, while Damian mixed the frosting. He told you that he wanted to color the cupcakes green and red, so you grabbed the food coloring from the pantry, letting him make the frosting any color he wanted.

Once the more than twenty cupcakes were ready, you and Damian sat on the counter while eating, talking excitedly about how the last few months had been when Damian had avoided you.

"Mother?" He caught your attention. "It'll be good to be a big brother."

You gave him a huge smile, and then kissed your son's cheek.

[chiaraswritings]

I feel like AT the restaurant they go to, Batmom goes into labor. She feels her first contraction, then spills her water on herself from the shock of it. Bruce does not believe her and they bicker about it with Y/N going “would I REALLY lie about this!?” And her husband gives her a look. Then she starts debating if it was gas or a contraction, or what have you.

It isn’t till Alfred comes back from the bathroom that the rush would start.

Batprank (Pt. 2)

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Very light argument, pregnancy, pranking, contractions, labor, delivery, newborn, parents holding newborn. 18+. If these are sensitive topics for you, go ahead and skip this one.

Word Count: 2K words

Summary: Batmom!reader goes into labor at her favorite restaurant and gives birth to her baby with her husband close by in Wayne Manor.

Author's Note: You guys crack me up, great part two idea, anon. It's pretty light-hearted at first, but towards the end of the story, I included a birth scene. I've never gotten to have a home birth, so I apologize if there were inaccuracies. Let me know if you want a part three. Thank you for all the incredible support, and I hope you enjoy.

Part One

Warm August sun tickled my nose as I stepped out of the car, taking a little more time than I was comfortable admitting, caused by nearly nine months of pregnancy's effect on my stomach. Not that I was complaining. I  was thrilled to be having Bruce's baby. It fulfilled the desire to be a mother that I'd had for years, and to be having a child with the love of my life? A fairytale come true. Even if we couldn't agree on baby names, even when I pulled labor pranks on my husband, even when I was being bombarded with concern by all our family members, especially our children. Earlier in the afternoon I had played a tremendous joke on all our family members, except for the all-knowing Alfred, pretending to have gone into labor. It was very convincing, and somehow we wound up at my favorite diner in the process of driving to the hospital. 

I joined my husband in the empty restaurant. It was three o'clock, the last customers of the lunch rush were slowly shuffling out the door, and it looked like the dinner rush had not yet made an appearance. I smiled at him as I intertwined my fingers with his, sliding into the booth next to him where he waited for the takeout order he had just put in.

"You could've waited in the car, it'll be ready soon," he pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I smiled, practically melting into his embrace, laying my hand on my stomach. 

"That's okay, I kinda wanted water while we wait for it." I gave my husband a quick look. 

"Heh, and I'm guessing you need me to get that for you?"

"Obviously, you got me pregnant, now you get to take care of me." I slid out of the booth to allow him access to the soda fountain, tapping my foot in mock impatience. 

"You scared me to death with that prank of yours earlier, don't push it," he chuckled, rising and pressing a kiss to my cheek before going to retrieve my water. 

I rolled my eyes at him, sitting back down in the booth, still with a playful smile on my face. "I love you, Bruce."

"Uh-huh." He set the cup of water on the table in front of me before leaning down to place a loving kiss on my lips. As I returned the kiss, our order number was called from the front counter. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," I smiled and turned to the water cup in front of me, sipping from it and relaxing against the faux leather seat. I drummed my fingers against my stomach and thought about our unborn daughter, just as I had every day for the last six months. How happy Bruce would look when he held her for the first time. How her little fingers and toes would look. How excited Alfred and the kids would be to hear that she was finally born. It'd been a long and interesting journey for all of us, and it would soon come to its end. 

The realization that the kids were still at home in a state of panic hit me harder than a cold pool on a hot summer day. "Shit," I muttered, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Stephanie's number. She was the most likely to answer, I knew, and I was right.

"Hello?!" The excited squeal made me pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. 

"Hello, Stephanie, I just wanted to let you all know... could you put the call on speaker, please?" 

“Yeah! Okay, there you go, tell us what’s happening!” Stephanie’s excitement was pouring through the speaker of my phone like water. 

“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?!” I could hear Jason’s voice, much more awake than when we had left the manor to rush to the hospital.

“I figured I needed to let you guys all know that my going into labor was a-” at that very moment I felt it, a long, drawn-out and yet sharp pain moving through my lower abdomen. It stunned me nearly into silence, accidentally spilling half of the contents of my water cup onto my lap. It almost felt like the horrible menstrual cramps that I hadn’t felt for such a long time.

“Mom? It was a what?” Tim’s voice broke through the pause. 

“Oh, not a prank, not a prank, not a prank!” I groaned as the pain rippled through my lower stomach. Not that it was unmanageable, it was just so surprising and… a tiny bit terrifying. No, it was very terrifying. The due date wasn’t for two more weeks, I didn’t expect this, I hadn’t mentally prepared, this was truly scary.

“Not a prank?” It was Tim again. “What do you mean, we know that.” 

“I didn’t mean anything!” I took two deep breaths as the sharp pain faded into a dull throb, then almost disappeared. “Just… forget I said anything! We’ll give you an update soon, love you lots, bye,” I ended the call before the curious group on the other end could get another word in. 

As I set down the phone on the table with a thud, my husband arrived by my side with a plastic bag. “Are you ready to… what’s wrong?” He set it down, kneeling to inspect my tense face.

“I… I think I just got a contraction,” I whispered, looking over to him. 

Bruce looked from my face, to the spilled water in my lap, then back to my face before standing. “Nice try, honey, let’s get going.”

“No! No, I mean it!” I looked up at him, grabbing his hand with mine in a death grip. “I’m not kidding this time. I’m not. You have to believe me.”

My husband looked at me for a moment before kneeling next to me again. “(Y/N), are you being serious? You know the story of the boy who cried wolf, don’t you?”

“Would I really lie about this, Bruce?!” I looked down at my stomach and pressed my fingers to the underside. “I swear, I felt it, I felt a contraction!” 

My statement was met with a look of doubt. “(Y/N), we’re two weeks away from the due date, I’m sure it was just… gas or discomfort, it couldn’t have been a contraction.” 

I returned his look with a withering glance. “Bruce Wayne, I swear, that was not gas. I think I’d know the difference.” 

“Honey, you can’t be having contractions yet…” Bruce’s confidence was starting to crack. He gave my stomach a worried look. 

“Oh yes I can, you know that babies can come anytime they choose.”

“Was that the only one?”

“Yeah, that was the only one.”

“Then… it was probably just…” 

“Master Bruce, Madam (Y/N), we had better start moving if we want to miss the rush hour,” Alfred’s calm voice broke through Bruce’s thought. He had stepped into the restaurant in search of us, given that we were ordering takeout, not dining in.

“Alfred! Alfred, I think I got a contraction, we have to call the midwife right now.” I stood, using the table for support. My husband handed off the plastic bag of food to Alfred, catching my arm to assist me. 

“Will we be heading home or to the hospital, sir?” Alfred quirked an eyebrow towards Bruce, just as skeptical as he was. 

“We’ll… let’s call the midwife in the car and go from there.” Bruce looked at me, starting to believe my words.

“Yes, let’s… just get her on the phone, please.” 

...

A few minutes later, we were heading back to the manor. The midwife had advised me to remain in a comfortable space to monitor my contractions on my own, to see if it was really gas, false labor, or the real thing. The original plan was to give birth in the manor, unless something unexpected (such as my water breaking before my due date) occurred. The midwife and her birth team assured me that they were just a phone call away, and with that in mind, we started driving back towards the manor. 

Bruce did everything to make sure I was comfortable, in the car and back in our bedroom once we had arrived home. The kids crowded around me at first, until a growl and firm command from Bruce sent them all back to their rooms. I was resting in our large, plush bed, my hand resting on my stomach, when the next contraction made its way through my body, then the next, then the next, still minutes apart, but becoming more and more consistent. Now that Bruce was convinced that I was actually going into labor, he was the most attentive husband on earth, holding me close with one arm and keeping his other hand on my stomach. 

“I knew this was going to happen, but… I didn’t think that it’d happen so soon,” I looked up at him, trying to relax after a contraction had passed. 

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied, massaging the side of my tummy. “But, you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

The pain was alleviated through his massages and gentle words. “Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

…

Labor was long and longer. Since it was my first baby, the risk was higher, but we wanted to prevent any danger of kidnapping or switched babies, especially since Bruce was in such a spotlight. I found myself in different positions as the night dragged on, the midwife’s reassuring words and Bruce’s concerned yet comforting presence carrying me through the delivery of our baby. Even when I felt for a moment that I couldn’t go on, my husband’s kisses to my shoulder and forehead kept me from giving up. Not that I really had a choice, of course. And yet that one moment was worth it all. 

I’ll never forget the moment the tiny, crying baby was put on my chest, as the midwife maneuvered me from my birthing position to lay on my back. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even register for a moment what was happening, until I was sprawling against the pillows and my newborn daughter was on my skin, her whimpering, suckling noises were music to my ears. Holding her close, I closed my eyes in relief, nearly unaware of what was going on around me. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man who had supported me from beginning to end. “Bruce, we did it.” 

“Yes, you did it, I knew you could.” He was looking at the tiny human in my arms with a sort of awe. 

I smiled, my thumbs stroking her back, though she was still covered in fluids. I was half mindful of the midwife asking Bruce to cut the umbilical cord, most of my focus was spent on examining my daughter’s tiny fingers that moved so slowly, as if they were trying to figure out this new environment.

Seeing the love of my life hold our child for the first time was as perfect and pure as I knew it would be. Once she was wiped clean and wrapped in a cloth, Bruce was able to hold her to his own chest, staring down at her with the same awe that hadn’t left his face. I could see her eyes were open, and she was staring up at him. In this wonderful moment, I knew that it had all been worth it, and that she would never have to be alone, that he was always going to be right there for her.

Bruce finally placed her back in my arms, and I held the little bundle of moving arms and legs close again, looking up at him with a smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I told you it wasn’t a prank.” 

[bat-mom-writer]

Bat Baby: Part 5

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Reader(mother) X Richard(Dick) Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne

Summery: The bat bois finnally meet their baby sister.

Note: Thanks for the name

(I do not own any DC characters)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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She stirs awake in a quite hospital room morning, the soft hum of medical machinery the only sound to greet her. The sun has barely started to peek through the blinds, casting a faint, comforting glow across the stark white sheets. Her eyes blink open slowly, adjusting to the brightness that seems too harsh for such an early hour.

Her gaze lands on the sleeping form of Bruce Wayne, slumped in the chair beside her bed, his strong jawline slack with fatigue and his chest rising and falling in the rhythmic pattern of deep slumber. He had been there for hours, ever since she had been wheeled into the delivery room, his hand clutching hers as she had gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain.

With a gentle smile, she turns her head to the side, her eyes seeking the tiny, swaddled figure in the clear-sided bassinet next to her. There she is, their baby girl, her little cherub, with a shock of dark hair standing up in soft peaks and a button nose that looked as if it had been pinched from a doll. Her heart swells in her chest at the sight of her. She reaches out a hand, her fingers trembling slightly, to touch the soft, velvety skin of the newborn's cheek. The baby's eyes flutter open, revealing a pair of piercing blue orbs that stare back at her with curiosity and a hint of recognition.

"Good morning, my little love," she whispers, her voice hoarse from the exertion of the previous night. The baby's eyes widen, and a tiny, perfect hand emerges from the fold of blankets to grasp at her mother's thumb. She feels a rush of warmth, a bond stronger than any she has ever known. This is her daughter, her flesh and blood, the culmination of a love that has weathered many storms.

Bruce stirs awake with a deep inhale, his eyes blinking rapidly to focus on the scene before him. He sees his wife, the mother of his children, and his heart fills with a tenderness he never knew existed. Her face is etched with exhaustion but glows with the kind of joy that only a new mother can understand. He stands up, careful not to disturb the fragile moment, and leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

She looks up at him, her smile widening. "Tired, but... happy." she looks back to the little baby, "Look at her, Bruce. She's beautiful."

Bruce nods in agreement, his gaze never leaving the baby's face. "Just like her mother," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.

Suddenly, she expression shifts, a shadow of regret passing over her features. "I'm sorry again for lashing out last night," she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. "And for... threatening to... kill you." she smiles awkwardly.

Bruce chuckles, the tension in the room easing. "It's all forgotten, honey," he says, "You were in a lot of pain. And I love you, but I don't think you could take me on, especially in your current state." His eyes dance with humor, the corners crinkling with affection.

She laughs softly, the sound music to Bruce's ears. "Well, maybe not," she concedes, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Bruce carefully lifts the baby from the bassinet, his strong arms cradling her with a tenderness that belies his usual stoic demeanor. She nuzzles into his chest, making a contented little sigh as she's held by her father for the first time.

With the baby now in Bruce's arms, she shifts slightly in the hospital bed, making room for him to sit beside her. He lowers himself onto the edge, his one arm coming around her shoulders to pull her close. The warmth of his body and the solidity of his presence provide a comfort she hadn't realized she needed until this moment. The three of them form a small, perfect circle, a new family unit that feels both foreign and incredibly right.

As Bruce holds their daughter, he presses a gentle kiss to the top of his wife's head, his lips lingering there for a brief moment. She closes her eyes, savoring the touch, feeling the weight of the past few hours lifting from her shoulders. The love that flows between them in this moment is palpable, a force that seems to fill the room and push out any remaining shadows of doubt or fear.

"Thank you," Bruce says, his voice a warm, rumbling baritone that resonates in her chest. He doesn't have to elaborate; she knows he's thanking her for the baby, for their family, for choosing him despite his dual life. her eyes well up with tears, and she nods, her voice too choked to form words. She's thankful too, for his unwavering support and love.

The quiet of the moment is broken by the soft knock on the door, and a nurse peeks her head in. "You have visitors," she says with a knowing smile that reaches her eyes, which are kind and gentle. Her heart skips a beat, her sons have finally come. Bruce had called they late last night that they should come over in the morning, guess they couldn't wait very long.

Dick Grayson, the oldest of the bunch, is the first to enter, his eyes immediately darting to the small bundle in Bruce's arms. He's followed by Jason Todd, his face a mask of curiosity and wariness. Tim Drake brings up the rear, his gaze flicking between Bruce, their mother, and their baby sister, his expression a mix of excitement and uncertainty. And Damian, who had been in on the secret, stands slightly apart, his arms crossed over his chest as if bracing for the reaction of his brothers.

The room is filled with a tension that only families can create, a thick silence that stretches out for a few heartbeats before Tim breaks it with a nervous chuckle. "We're calm, we promise," he says, his voice a little too high.

She can't help but laugh at the sight of them all, so serious and unsure. She holds out her free hand to beckon them closer. "Come and meet your little sister," she says, her voice filled with warmth.

They quickly shuffle closer, their movements tentative, as if afraid they might shatter the delicate scene before them. Dick's eyes are wide with wonder, Jason's with a smile, and Tim's with a cautious excitement. Damian, ever the stoic one, watches with a hint of a smirk, enjoying the rare moment of unity.

Bruce carefully passes the baby to Dick, who takes her with the same gentle care he uses when handling the most fragile of gymnastics equipment. Dick's eyes light up as he looks down at her, and the room seems to hold its breath as he whispers, "Hi, sis." The baby's tiny hand opens and closes, reaching for his face, and Dick's heart melts.

Jason, standing beside Dick, watches with a soft smile, his hand reaching out to gently brush the top of her head. The gesture is almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes about the bond he shares with the child he had no part in creating, yet feels protective of. Her heart swells as she sees the tenderness in Jason's eyes, knowing that despite their tumultuous past, he has a place in their family. "She's so tiny," he says, his voice filled with awe.

Tim's hands are clenched at his sides, his knuckles white with the effort to contain his excitement. "Can I hold her?" he asks, his eyes wide and hopeful. She nods, and Bruce carefully passes the baby to him. Tim holds her with a mix of reverence and fear, as if she might break. His movements are stiff at first, but as the baby snuggles into his chest, his body relaxes and he beams with pride. "Wow," he murmurs, looking down at her. "She's perfect."

Damian, who had been watching from the sidelines, steps forward. He's the youngest, but often the most serious and guarded. He's been looking forward to this moment, to see if the bond he felt for his brothers would extend to this new member of their unconventional family. He holds out his pinky finger, watching as the baby's tiny hand wraps around it, her grip surprisingly strong. He can feel the warmth of her skin, the rapid beat of her pulse, and something within him shifts. The fiery protectiveness that fuels his nighttime escapades as Robin flares to life in his chest, and he knows that he would do anything to keep her safe.

Bruce, sitting back down with his arm around his wife's shoulder, watches his sons interact with their new sister. He's proud of them, each in their own way. Dick, the eldest, who has stepped into the role of a leader, guiding them through their training and life outside of the Manor. Jason, who has come so far from his rough beginnings, now a strong and capable ally. Tim, the youngest of the three, who has proven to be a quick learner and a vital part of the team. And Damian, his own biological son, who is learning to navigate the complexities of his identity and heritage.

"We're sorry that we sneaked out," she says to the boys, her voice tinged with a hint of apology. "We didn't want you to worry."

"We're also sorry," Dick says, his voice thick with a mix of affection and understanding, "for being overly protective."

"Yeah, I guess we went overboard," Jason admits. They've always been a tight-knit group, but with her pregnancy, they had all felt the weight of their responsibilities even more acutely.

Tim nods, still cradling the baby with awe. "But she's worth it," he says, his voice filled with pure happiness. "Look at her, she's a miracle."

"We promise to be more supportive next time," Dick says, a hint of humor in his voice, looking between Bruce and their mother.

Jason nods in agreement. "Yeah, no more jumping to conclusions or freaking out," he adds. She laughs, the sound light and airy.

"I'm glad you boys aren't mad." she says, looking to her eldest sons.

"Mad?" Tim repeats with a smile, "Are you kidding me? We're pissed." His words hang in the air for a beat, the humor in his voice unmistakable. Dick and Jason laugh, the tension in the room dissipating like a popped bubble.

"But we think we can find some way in our hearts to forgive you," Dick says, his grin widening as he glances at Tim, who nods solemnly, still holding the baby as if she were a fragile treasure. she laughs, her eyes shining with love for her sons.

"Okay, my turn," Jason says, his voice a mix of excitement and nerves as he steps closer to the bed. Tim carefully transfers the baby into Jason's arms, who holds her with surprising gentleness, his eyes never leaving hers. The baby stares back at him, seemingly unfazed by the exchange, and Jason's heart skips a beat. It's a moment he never thought he'd experience, being a big brother to a little girl, and he's overwhelmed with emotions.

"Hey there, you're just a cute little baby aren't you?" he says, his voice taking on a high-pitched, playful tone that seems to resonate with the baby. She responds with a gurgle and a kick of her tiny legs, making them all laugh.

Alfred, the Wayne's loyal butler, steps into the room with a tray of breakfast, his eyes immediately going to the newest addition to the family. "Ah, Mrs. Wayne, Mr. Wayne, and... the newest little Wayne," he says, a warm smile spreading across his face as he sets the tray down on the bedside table.

"Still working, Pennyworth?" she jokes, the nickname, a playful jab at Alfred's uncanny ability to appear whenever needed, brings a chuckle from the normally stoic man.

"Just ensuring that everyone's well taken care of, madam," he responds, his eyes flicking to the baby before he retreats to give the family their space.

"Alfred, come join us," Bruce calls out, his arm still around her shoulders. "You're a part of this family, too."

Alfred nods and approaches, his smile growing wider as he looks down at the baby. "Congratulations," he says sincerely, his British accent a comforting presence in the room. Hesitating for just a moment, he reaches out a gnarled hand to stroke her cheek. The baby's eyes follow his movements, and she coos contentedly.

Damian, who had been standing back, his arms still crossed over his chest, finally unclasps them and takes a tentative step forward. "May I hold her?" he asks, his voice softer than her has ever heard it. Bruce nods, and Tim carefully hands the baby over to Damian, who holds her with a mix of awe and trepidation. The baby seems to sense his uncertainty and reaches out a tiny hand to grasp his finger, holding on tight.

Damian's face relaxes into a smile, and she can see the love in his eyes, despite his usual stern demeanor. "Hello, little one," he whispers, his accent lilting slightly. "You've got quite the family to keep you safe." The baby looks up at him, seemingly responding to the strength in his voice, and Damian's smile widens.

As the boys continue to coo over their sister, her mind drifts to the future. The thought of raising a daughter in a household filled with so much testosterone, with Bruce's demanding schedule and the constant shadow of the Batman looming over them, fills her with a mix of excitement and trepidation. But she knows that with the love and protection of her sons, she has nothing to fear.

"What's her name?" Damian finally asks, breaking the comfortable silence that had descended over the room. She looks up at Bruce, who nods at her to go ahead. She takes a deep breath, savoring the moment. "Her name," she says, her voice strong and proud, "is Meillia," She glances to Alfred with a smirk, "Penny Wayne."

Alfred's eyes widen in shock, and his cheeks color slightly, a rare sight that brings another round of laughter from the room. She had always had a cheeky side, and it was moments like these that made her feel like she truly belonged in this strange world of masks and heroics. "Well, Miss Meillia Penny Wayne," he says, his voice filled with affection, "you certainly have an interesting family tree."

The laughter fades into a comfortable silence as the boys take turns holding Meillia, each one whispering promises and secrets into her ear. She watches them with a mix of pride and awe. They were her guardians, her protectors, and now, her brothers. Her heart swells at the thought of the adventures they would all share together, the love and chaos that would no doubt come with raising a daughter in the shadow of the Batcave.

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven 4 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of fear and worry, pregnant!reader, ansgt

You were happy. You were feeling like everything was as it should be. You even started to forget about this whole story of Bruces being switched from parallel universes. The children too. The Justice League saw a difference in Batman but they didn’t press the subject when they also noticed how the children were acting around him. You were a real family. 

The “new” Bruce was always a little bit worried that the “real” Bruce would come back, but with time, he slowly let his guard down. He had a nightmare about it a few nights ago, but when he woke and found you by his side, he calmed down. He had wrapped his arm around, his hand resting on your belly. You were pregnant with his child and he was the happiest man on Earth. He was certain it was going to be a baby girl. You woke up a little before happily humming into his embrace, intertwining your fingers with his.

“All good, my love?” you whispered

“Just checking on my darlings” he murmured back as he kissed your shoulder

“Love you” you smiled

“Love you too” he replied with a smile matching yours

Your bedroom door cracked open then and you both saw Damian peering inside the room.

“Come, baby” you gestured to Damian to come closer

Damian was still a little bit unsure around this new version of his father. Of course, he seemed more caring and more protective, while still being a genius detective and an amazing warrior. But he still felt like he was betraying his original father.

“Everything alright?” Bruce asked

“Just a nightmare” Damian whispered, almost ashamed

You made room for Damian who settled against you. Bruce gently stroked his hair until the child fell asleep under his touch. You smiled even more. Your lover was going to be such a good father to your child.

You were at the hospital for a little check up on you and the baby. Bruce was supposed to join you there once he would be done with a quick meeting at Wayne Enterprises.

The real Bruce Wayne saw an opportunity. He knew his plan was drawing attention and that his other self and children would quickly understand… But he needed to reach you. He easily hacked the security of WE and he made sure that the breach would be seen and a problem to take care of as fast as possible. He hoped it would allow him to come find you while the other Bruce would have to deal with the little mess he created.

You were still in the waiting room when your actual husband showed up. He was glad he had bought several safe houses and that they held enough money and suits for him to look good. Your eyes instantly lit up when you saw Bruce, even though you could tell something seemed different. Bruce smiled back and leaned to kiss you. He so happily cupped your chin to deepen the kiss. He was a starving man who just wanted his wife back. Gosh, he almost forgot how good it was to get his lips on yours. You chuckled before gently pushing him away

“Come on, Bruce. There are people around us” you said, a little bit surprised

“Sorry, love. Missed you so much” he whispered to you

“We saw each other this morning” you replied, you were refusing to understand what this meant

“We really haven’t” Bruce replied

Your first thought was to worry about your lover. If your husband was there, did it mean that he had been sent back to his own world? You felt sick. You felt your phone buzzing in your bag and checked the notification: “Sorry, my love. We’ve got a security breach, I’ll do my best to be at the hospital as soon as possible”. You calmed down a little bit, even though you were unsure about what to do.

“What is going on?” you murmured

Bruce was about to say something when the nurse came to find you. You both followed her. You tensed a little when the man placed a hand on your back and he felt it. He moved closer so he could whisper into your ear.

“Come on, darling, it’s me” he tried to reassure you “Don’t be afraid, I’ll make things better very soon. I just need your help” he added and you didn’t answer

You settled in the room for the echography. Bruce stayed by your side the whole time, until the nurse asked him to go out so she could have a chat with just you. She had noticed you were a little bit stressed out today and she wanted to make sure everything was alright.

You apologised to the nurse.

“I’m sorry, I received a message before the consultation… I’m just going to make a very quick call, is it alright?” you asked and the nurse nodded.

You instantly took your phone and called your lover. As usual, the man answered right away.

“Is everything alright, my love? Are you out of the hospital already?” he asked and your silence instantly worried him “What happened?”

“He’s here” you simply said and your Bruce instantly understood what it meant

“Alright, my love. Take a deep breath, the stress is bad for you and the baby. I promise you I’ll make things better very soon” he told you “I just need you to come back home and relax, okay?” he added

“But he’ll probably follow me home” you worried

“When you’ll get out of the hospital, go find Alfred in the car and call Dick. Give him the emergency code and he’ll quickly come over. Can you do that for me, my love?” he instructed you

“Yes, okay. See you later” you said

“Keep me in check, my love.”

“You too”

You hung up before going back to the consultation. The nurse finished the tests she wanted to do and finally let you go. Bruce was waiting for you. He grabbed your hand and gently kissed the back of it.

“Let’s go home” he hummed and you nodded

Your silence was breaking the man even more

“I know you must feel very confused” he started “and it must be a shock that there are now two Bruce Wayne in town. But I’m your husband, I’m the real one. You have no idea how hard it has been to come back home. And even though the child isn’t really mine, I’m so excited to see you pregnant. I can’t wait for this new addition to the family” he said, thinking you were stressed out because of you discovering you cheated on him with another self

“How do I know you’re the real one?” you asked, you were trying to gain some time. “Look, I just need to call Dick. I promised him to do so after my consultation at the hospital and he’ll worry if I don’t”

“Of course, go ahead”

You grabbed your phone and called Dick, as you entered the car. Alfred was a little bit surprised by your gloomy face before noticing that Master Bruce wasn’t wearing the same clothes as this morning. There was a crazed glitter in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick answered

“It’s just to let you know that everything is alright with the baby, but I’m not too sure I’ll be able to make it at tonight's party.” you replied and you heard Dick getting up and grabbing his coat

“Where are you?” he replied back

“Soon home” you hummed, relieved your eldest son was always so ready to help

“I’ll be there”

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PART 5

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Taglist for all my work <3

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Taglist for this series <3

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Thanks for the ideas & the comments <3

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