#bruce Wayne headcanon

[dollishmehrayan]

# “HOLD UP, POSE!” ── .✦ ( model!reader x batboys s/o kinda requested ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so sorry for the break and how i traumatized half of you guys with my rant (if I suffer you gonna do too && let’s move on now ) and it’s lowkeyy funny ngl but omgg, I’m finally back though soo yeah but I’m finally taking requests again for a bit too so about that yeah and also make sure to go vote on the poll, we’re at 600+ votes already for my 1k event!! Tags: (batboys x model!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Your biggest fan, no contest. He has a folder on his phone labeled “My Gorgeous Girl” filled with all your magazine covers, runway shots, and candid photos he’s sneakily taken of you (even the ones where you’re eating pizza in sweats).

Loves to drop the fact that you’re a model into conversations. Someone says something even remotely related, and Dick is like, “Oh, that reminds me of the time yn walked for Valentino. She looked stunning. Anyway, how’s your dog?”

Flirty but lowkey jealous. He’s all smiles at your shoots, but if a photographer or fellow model gets a little too friendly, he’ll sidle up behind you, wrap an arm around your waist, and casually go, “Hey, babe, everything good here?”

Runs your fan page in secret. He denies it every time, but you know it’s him posting like archive photos of you? with captions like, “Truly the most breathtaking woman alive.”

Always hypes you up. You’re stressing before a runway show? He’s holding your hands, looking you dead in the eyes, and saying, “You’re going to kill it, just like always. They’re not ready for you.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Pretends not to care, but he’s secretly obsessed. You’ll catch him flipping through your magazines with a bored expression, but the dog-eared pages of all your spreads say otherwise.

Gets grumpy when he has to share you with the world. “Do you really have to fly to Milan again? Can’t they get someone else to wear the fancy coat?” But he’s the first one to text you after your show with a “You looked amazing. Miss you, though.”

Always lurking at your events. He doesn’t do red carpets, but you’ll spot him in the back of the after-party, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, watching you like you’re the only person in the room.

Jealous but funny about it. If a male model gets paired with you for a shoot, Jason will grumble, “You know I could wear that suit better, right?”

Says he doesn’t care about fashion but definitely critiques it. “They put you in that? Really? That’s what they think is high fashion?” (Meanwhile, he still owns a leather jacket he’s had since he was 17.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The low-key proud boyfriend. Tim doesn’t brag about you… unless someone else brings it up. Then it’s a full PowerPoint presentation: “Oh, you didn’t know she walked the Paris Fashion Week finale? Let me show you.”, “it’s not that serious Tim.”

Forgets how famous you are sometimes. He’s so focused on his work that when he accompanies you to an event, he’s always surprised when people scream your name. “Wow, they’re… really excited to see you, huh?”

Pretends to be chill but panics at your shoots. If you’re wearing something too revealing, Tim’s sitting in the corner like, “Does she really need to wear that? I mean, it’s fashion, I guess, but still…”

Shows up to all your shows with coffee. He knows your schedule can be brutal, so he always has your favorite drink ready and a warm smile. “Long day, huh? Here, you’ve earned this.”

Accidentally goes viral as your boyfriend. Someone snaps a picture of him holding your bag while you’re doing a fitting, and now he’s trending as “hot model’s mystery man.” Or “Drake Spotted With L/N?”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks modeling is beneath you. Not because he doesn’t support you, but because he genuinely thinks you’re too good for it. “Tt. Why waste your time parading around in someone else’s designs when you could rule the world instead?”

Still shows up to your shows like a proud dad. He won’t admit it, but he’s ridiculously proud of you. He’ll sit front row, arms crossed, looking annoyed until you walk out. Then his face softens, and he claps (but only once).

Hates everyone in the industry. Photographers, stylists, agents—he side-eyes them all. “Do they have to touch you so much?”

Quietly supportive in his own way. You come home exhausted, and he’s already brewed your favorite tea and laid out your comfiest pajamas. “You should rest. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

Keeps all your clippings. You find a scrapbook in his study filled with your covers, tear sheets, and event photos. When you ask him about it, he just mutters, “I didn’t want them getting lost.” And even keeps some fan letters that you keep or lost along the way.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks it’s “adorable.” Bruce can’t help but chuckle whenever you mention your modeling career. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?” But he’s not teasing he genuinely admires how passionate you are.

Surprisingly knowledgeable about fashion. He knows every major designer, can spot couture from a mile away, and will occasionally surprise you by saying things like, “That’s Galliano, isn’t it? From the ‘06 collection?”

Makes every event feel like a power couple moment. When you walk a red carpet together, it’s like the world collectively gasps. He keeps his hand on your back, whispers sweet nothings, and makes sure you’re the center of attention.

Defends your career to anyone who dares question it. Someone makes a snide remark about modeling being “shallow,” and Bruce immediately shuts them down with, “Actually, it’s an incredibly demanding profession that requires both discipline and skill. You should try it sometime.”

Buys your agency. You’re stressed about a bad contract or a difficult agent? Suddenly, Wayne Enterprises owns the company, and Bruce is like, “Problem solved. You can thank me later.”

[vamplvs]

TYPES OF KISSES

characters — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd warnings — lots of fluff, a bit of swearing, and it gets a little suggestive in jason's notes — this is my first time back on tumblr in about a year or two so forgive me for any errors/organizational issues. also for the record i absolutely pictured battinson

BRUCE WAYNE. — trailing kisses

after a gala, bruce is always worn out. it's draining being in front of press and high society—if that's what gotham's equivalent of socialite extravagance can really be called—for hours on end. putting on a pretty smile, dancing around questions regarding the dark shadow looming over gotham's underbelly, and shaking hands with people he couldn't care less about. none of it is remotely interesting, and being trapped there for hours lest he face alfred's wrath is all the more frustrating.

"how was the night, b?" you speak softly as he sulks into your bedroom, his suit jacket long abandoned elsewhere in the manor.

he only hums in response.

"that bad, huh?" you put down your book and got up from the bed, smoothly making your way over to him. as you get closer, you catch the furrow of his brow and the dip of his frown. "c'mon, lets get to bed, yeah?"

"please." it's a quiet reply, low in the back of his throat.

you make quick work of his cufflinks and the buttons of his shirt, and in no time at all, he's in nothing more than a pair of briefs.

"why don't i go with you next time?" you pull him towards the bed, "i mean, i don't mind wrangling the public." in a swift motion, you fall onto the bed.

"i won't ask that of you."

"that's why i'm offering, baby," you smile up at him, motioning for him to lay down next to him. "if it'd ease your nerves, i would be happy to go with you." you press one kiss to his shoulder, then another just above that one until you reach the edge of his jaw.

bruce wraps a warm hand around you, pulling you closer to him, and you simply continue trailing kisses across his jaw, his cheeks, until just before you reach his lips.

"i would do just about anything if it meant making you happy."

"i know," he whispers at you, deep blue eyes staring intently into yours. a careful hand works its way to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

DICK GRAYSON. — silencing kisses

"ugh, he was just so-" you cut yourself off with a groan, scrubbing harder at the dishes in the sink. "i mean, seriously, who on earth does that?"

dick snickers behind you, a bemused smile dancing across his face.

"the nerve of some people! why would that question even cross your-" there's a clattering of dishes as one slipps out of your hand. "god dammit!"

"hey, c'mon," dick's hands are suddenly around your waist, "why don't we take a break?"

you turn to face him now, frustration painted on every plane of your face. "no, i need to finish the dishes, or they'll just sit-"

"we can finish them tomorrow," he says with an easy smile, and it's hard not to listen to his voice of reason when he looks at you that way. it's all soft eyes flitting across your face from your eyes to your lips.

"i know the way we are," you huff, "they'll never get done."

"i promise i'll help you tomorrow." he squeezes your waist reassuringly, pulling you towards him and away from the already doomed dream of finishing the dishes tonight.

"but you said you had to-"

"nope, i'm helping you with dishes now. that's the plan."

"but you're already behind on-"

he cuts you off with a kiss, slow and gentle. "i can worry about that tomorrow."

"you really shouldn't-"

he cuts you off yet again, a cheeky grin spreading on his face. "i can keep doing this all night if you really want me to."

"dick," you groaned, your head falling onto his shoulder. he only wrapped his arms around you tighter.

"i can tell when you're saying my name and when you're not, y'know," mirth lacing his words, and you can't help but crack a smile. "you're always telling me to take care of myself, so let me do that for you just this once, okay?"

JASON TODD. — breathless kisses

the adrenaline of the night is already starting to wear thin as you rounded a corner into a dark alley, jason trailing after you. laughter is in the air, and for the first time in a long time, a patrol feels like something more than a task to complete.

"careful, red, it looks like you're getting slow!" you call back to him, feet pounding across the pavement as you race forward towards the fire escape of the building ahead of you.

"oh, yeah?" he shouts in return, fighting to keep the smile out of his voice—even through the mask. he pushes himself forward, ignoring the burn in his legs from the exertion of the night. within a moment, he's past you, using a grapple to propel himself to the top of the building.

"that's cheating!" you scale the fire escape as quickly as you can, panting by the time you reach the top. jason is already a rooftop over by the time you get there, and it's a good thing you're faster on foot than he is—even if only just.

he simply laughs, continuing his dash to the safe house only a few blocks away. you manage to catch up to him, heart beating out of your chest as you both run in tandem, leaping over gaps between buildings and trying to trip each other up. it's only once you both run down yet another fire escape leading to the window of your shared apartment that jason pulls forward once and for all, a grin under his mask as he hears you groan behind him.

in one swift movement, he slides the window open and slips inside. once you get inside, jason already has his mask off and there's a smug smirk on his face.

"what was that about me getting slow?" his chest is still heaving.

you can't help but laugh. "only because you cheated!"

"no such thing in gotham, baby." he pulls you forward by the arm, pressing a short kiss to your lips.

you smile at him, rolling your eyes and still breathing heavily. jason's eyes flit between yours and your lips for no longer than a moment before he kisses you again.

between light, breathless kisses, his hands find themselves wrapped around your waist, and before you know it he has you both dropping onto the couch. your legs are spread over his lap, and you pull away for just a second, forehead pressed to his.

"as much as i love the whole body armor look, why don't we take all this off, yeah?" you murmur.

"i like the sound of that."

[arkangelo-7]

I bet Bruce Wayne has a “hug quota,” where he withstand exactly 3 hugs a month at most and that’s it. Anymore then that and he will sontanously combust and fuck off to Botswana for like nineteen days to recalibrate at a weird magical ninja monastery or something.

The Batkids occasionally fight over who gets hug privileges that month. Dick usually wins because he’s the oldest and can quilt trip his siblings into letting him have the hugs (“I’ve had to deal with him for twenty years, nimrods! If I want a hug I am going to get a fucking hug!”) but sometimes Cass comes in with the elbow drop and gets the hugs for herself.

There’s also Clark. But it’s important to note that the hug quota does not apply to Clark. Suspiciously.

[t3alight]

MDNI

Warnings: cockwarming, slight smut, fluff.

Bruce making you sit on his cock while he's working on a case because you both miss each other but are too tired to fully fuck.

Feeling his cock inside you and him feeling your cunt clenching around him is enough to satisfy you both for the time being because it conveys that you two are content doing anything as long as y'all do it together. Also he gives you little smooches on your forehead every time you get a bit too restless.

[ahqkas]

Can you please write dumb/subtle/random/cute things batboys will do while they are crushing on reader?

♯ FEEL YOUR LIPS CRUSH . . .

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

becomes overly observant but awkwardly obvious

bruce wayne is a master of observation—trained to notice the smallest details in a room, a person, or a crime scene. but when it comes to you, this skill becomes more of a curse than a blessing. his crush transforms his usual precision into something downright awkward as he hyper-focuses on the tiniest parts of your life.

it starts innocently enough. you’ll be in the middle of a casual conversation when bruce interrupts, his deep voice breaking through your train of thought.

“you’ve switched your coffee order recently,” he says matter-of-factly, his piercing blue eyes locking on yours.

you blink, momentarily confused. “uh, yeah. i wanted to try something different.”

“it’s good,” he replies, his tone completely serious, as if your new preference for caramel flavored coffee over vanilla is a critical observation.

sometimes his comments catch you so off guard that you don’t even know how to respond. like the time you came into the room wearing a pair of old sneakers. bruce, who was leaning against the kitchen counter sipping his coffee, glanced down and said, “those laces are frayed. you should replace them.”

you laughed nervously, unsure if he was joking. “uh, thanks for the tip?”

but bruce wasn’t joking. “i’ll send alfred to pick up new ones. you don’t want them snapping mid-step.”

he tries to play it cool, he really does, but his constant streak of seemingly random observations only makes his feelings more obvious. one afternoon, you find him glancing at your notebook while you jot something down. without even looking at you, he says, “you press harder with the pen when you’re tired. your handwriting’s smaller today.”

you set your pen down, giving him a skeptical look. “do you . . . keep track of my handwriting, bruce?”

his face doesn’t change, though you swear his ears flush the faintest shade of pink. “no,” he says smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee. “it’s just. . . noticeable.”

it’s the way he says it—quiet and genuine—that sends your heart fluttering. he doesn’t realize how much he’s revealing, but his small, awkward comments and laser focus on the details of your life make it abundantly clear.

the funny thing is, you’re not the only one noticing. alfred, who’s known bruce wayne longer than anyone, often raises an eyebrow or hides a knowing smirk whenever bruce starts one of his “random” observations.

( “perhaps master wayne should focus on his own handwriting.” bruce glares at alfred, but his lack of a comment only makes the butler’s smirk grow wider. )

finds excuses to be helpful

bruce’s wealth is something he wields with the subtlety of a battering ram when he’s crushing on someone. his intentions are good—he genuinely wants to help—but it often comes off as over-the-top or hilariously unnecessary. for someone as logical and composed as the bat, using his money to make your life easier feels like a no-brainer, but he doesn’t realize just how obvious it makes his feelings.

it starts small at first. you might casually mention needing to replace something—your laptop is acting up or your phone is outdated. the next day, without fail, a box will mysteriously appear at your doorstep. inside, you’ll find not just a replacement but the absolute best version of the device, meticulously selected and clearly expensive.

“bruce,” you say, holding up the latest model of a WE laptop you can’t imagine ever affording on your own. “did you do this?”

he looks up from his work, his expression calm and unbothered. “it’s practical,” he says, as if that’s a reasonable excuse for gifting you a piece of technology worth more than your rent. “your old one was slow. it’s inefficient to struggle with outdated equipment.”

when you try to protest, he waves it off, as though spending thousands of dollars on you is no more different than buying a cup of coffee.

but it doesn’t stop there. one morning, you’re sitting in the kitchen with him, absently complaining about how your car keeps breaking down. it’s an offhanded comment, something you don’t think twice about, but bruce takes it as a challenge. by the time you’ve finished your coffee, he’s already pulled out his phone to make arrangements.

“wait,” you interrupt him, narrowing your eyes as you catch him murmuring something to alfred over the phone. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he replies too quickly, but later that day, you’re startled to find a sleek new car parked outside your home, the keys and a handwritten note from the butler sitting on your counter.

“bruce!” you exclaim, storming into the study to confront him.

he doesn’t even look up from his computer. “your old car was unreliable. this one is safer.”

“that’s not the point!”

“it’s just a car,” he says with a small shrug, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

despite his attitude, it’s clear he’s putting an incredible amount of thought into everything he does for you. his gestures are less about showing off his wealth and more about making sure you never have to struggle, even in the smallest ways. because to him, it’s just logical—he has the resources, so why wouldn’t he use them to make your life easier?

DICK GRAYSON

finds excuses to touch you

for someone as physically expressive as dick grayson, touch comes as naturally as breathing—but when he’s crushing on you, it’s a whole new level. he’s not even aware of how much he does it at first, but the moments start to add up. it’s little things at first: the way he always seems to find a reason to brush his hand against yours, the casual way his shoulder bumps into you when you’re walking side by side, or the way he’ll lean close when he’s explaining something, his hand ghosting over yours as he gestures.

but then, it becomes less about the accidental and more about the intentional. when you’re sitting on the couch together, he’ll sling an arm over the back of it, his fingers close enough to brush against your shoulder. he’ll offer his hand when you’re stepping out of a car or climbing over something, even if you don’t need it, the contact lingers just a second longer than necessary.

“careful,” he’ll say, his voice soft and teasing, even though the step you’re taking isn’t remotely precarious.

“you know i can walk, right?”

he grins, squeezing your hand briefly before letting it go. “just being chivalrous.”

and then, there are the moments when he gets so wrapped up in the conversation or your presence that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. like the time you were sitting together, and he absentmindedly started playing with the hem of your sleeve. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he looked down, startled, his ears turning pink as he quickly let go.

“sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “didn’t realize i was doing that.”

but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know.

for dick, touch is a way of expressing what words sometimes fail to say. every hand on your shoulder, every playful nudge, and every lingering hug is his way of saying, i like being near you. i like you. even if he hasn’t quite found the courage to say it out loud, his actions make it impossible to miss.

teases you relentlessly (but gets flustered when you tease him back)

teasing is how dick shows affection, how he keeps things light, and, more than anything, how he tries to get your attention. when he’s crushing on you, though, his teasing takes on a new level. every little thing you do seems to give him material to poke fun at, not in a mean way, but in a way that makes it clear he’s paying attention to everything about you.

if you trip over a word while talking, he’ll immediately smirk. “careful there, shakespeare,” he’ll quip. “do we need to enroll you in a public speaking class?” or if you drop something, he’s ready with a dramatic gasp. “wow, butterfingers, do you need me to carry everything for you? i could be your personal assistant, but i charge by the hour.”

it’s playful, yes, but it’s also consistent. he’s always looking for ways to make you laugh, even if it’s at your own expense. like the time you were struggling to open a stubborn jar of jam, and he swooped in, popping the lid off with ease.

“guess i’m just the stronger one here,” he said, flexing his biceps with an exaggerated grin. “it’s okay; not everyone can have these guns.”

but if you so much as raise an eyebrow or fire back with your own jab, the tables turn in an instant. one day, after he’d spent a full five minutes teasing you about your choice of coffee ( “a triple-shot vanilla latte with almond milk? fancy. are you sure you don’t need a royal escort to carry it for you?” ), you finally snapped back.

“oh, and i suppose you’re the coffee expert, mr. regular black coffee? real creative. i bet the baristas have your order memorized.”

the grin on his face faltered for a split second, his eyes widening just slightly. then came the blush—the faint pink hue creeping up his cheeks as he tried to recover, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“hey, black coffee is . . . classic,” he mumbled, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

and that’s the thing about dick grayson: as much as he loves dishing it out, he can’t always handle it when it’s directed at him. the moment you tease him back, especially if it’s about something he’s sensitive about (like his perfectly styled hair or his need to one-up everyone), he turns into an awkward, flustered mess.

“you spend how long on your hair every morning?” you asked him once, teasingly ruffling his carefully combed locks after he made fun of the mismatched socks you were wearing.

he froze, his hand shooting up to fix the damage. “it’s not that long,” he protested, his voice defensive but light.

“oh, come on! i bet you use at least three different products. don’t tell me you don’t have a favorite brand of gel.”

his cheeks flushed crimson as he stammered, “i—you know, it’s just . . . maintenance! can’t all of us roll out of bed looking flawless, okay?”

you laughed, and he groaned, muttering something under his breath about how you were “way too good at this.”

JASON TODD

acts nonchalant but is always nearby

jason todd is many things—brash, sarcastic, sometimes even reckless—but when it comes to feelings he doesn’t fully understand, he defaults to keeping his distance . . . or at least pretending he’s keeping his distance. the truth is, when he’s crushing on you, he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame, always finding an excuse to be wherever you are without making it obvious. or so he thinks.

take your quiet sunday afternoons, for instance. maybe you’ve settled on the couch with a book, enjoying the rare peace. jason walks in, all nonchalant, like he’s just passing through. he glances at you—just a quick flick of his eyes, like he’s making sure you’re still there—and then he settles in the chair across from you, a spot he never uses otherwise.

“what are you doing?” you ask, watching as he pulls out a book of his own, the same one he’s been pretending to read for weeks.

he doesn’t even look up. “reading.”

you roll your eyes but say nothing, knowing full well he’s barely getting through a page. you can feel his gaze on you every few minutes, like he’s trying to memorize the way your brow furrows in concentration or how you chew on the corner of your lip when you’re focused. and if you catch him? he quickly snaps his attention back to his book, pretending obliviousness.

“didn’t know you liked this spot so much,” you tease, gesturing to the chair.

a smirk plays on the edge of his lips, though there’s a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. “what, i can’t sit here now? thought it was a free country.”

it’s always like that—his attempts to mask how much he cares come with a side of sarcasm. but the truth slips through in the little details. like how he never actually leaves the room until you do. or how, even when you’re sitting in silence, he finds a reason to linger. maybe he’s scrolling through his phone, flipping through a magazine, or staring at the ceiling like he’s deep in thought. but really, he’s just soaking in your presence.

and then there are the times when he doesn’t even bother pretending. like when you’re sitting in the kitchen, finishing up some work, and he wordlessly sits down across from you, arms crossed and chin propped in his hand.

“what?” you ask, glancing up at him.

“nothing,” he replies, though the slight curve of his lips gives him away.

it’s not that jason is afraid to admit he likes you ( although there is a possibility he is but we don’t talk about that )—it’s just that he doesn’t know how. so instead, he hovers. he sticks close enough to feel like he’s part of your world but not so close that he risks giving himself away. so while he might act nonchalant, the truth is, he’s anything but. every glance, every lingering moment, every excuse to be near you is jason’s way of saying he cares—he just hasn’t found the words yet.

fixes things you didn’t even know were broken

jason’s way of showing he cares is a little unconventional, but it’s always in the small, unspoken ways. he’s the type to notice things that no one else would—things that have been lingering for ages in the background of your life, just waiting for someone to fix them. but because it’s jason, he’ll never bring it up. he’ll just do it, no questions asked, and then act like it never happened.

it starts with the little things. your chair in the living room? it’s been squeaking for months now, but it’s not something you’ve gotten around to fixing. it’s one of those annoyances you’ve learned to ignore, a piece of background noise that doesn’t really bother you enough to take action.

until one day, it suddenly stops.

you sit down in the chair, and for the first time in ages, it’s silent. your eyes narrow. you didn’t fix this—so who did?

“jason?” you ask, glancing toward him as he lounges on the couch, pretending to be deep in whatever he’s doing.

he doesn’t even look up. “what?”

“the chair. it’s. . . quiet now.”

he pauses for just a moment, but it’s enough to catch the shift in his demeanor. he shrugs, barely concealing the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “must’ve gotten lucky. or maybe it fixed itself.”

you know it didn’t. but before you can press him on it, he’s already back to whatever he was doing, like the whole thing is no big deal. it’s almost as if he’s trying to play it off, hoping you won’t notice that he’s been quietly fixing things in your life, one at a time.

the next thing happens a few days later. you walk into the kitchen, only to find that the light above the sink, the one that flickers every time you try to use it, is now working. perfectly.

you stop, standing in the doorway and just staring at it. there’s no way you fixed it. and it certainly wasn’t broken enough to need replacing. so once again, you turn your gaze to jason, who’s now sitting at the kitchen table, eating a snack and acting entirely uninterested in your investigation.

“jason, did you—?”

“no,” he interrupts and continues watching the video essay he turns on every time he eats.

“uh-huh,” you say, narrowing your eyes, walking toward the light and testing the switch again just to make sure you’re not imagining things. it stays steady, glowing without hesitation.

he’ll never say it out loud, but each fix—each thoughtful act—speaks louder than any words could. the broken things don’t matter, because jason is here, fixing them in his own way, piece by piece.

TIM DRAKE

gets shy when you’re too close

tim drake is usually the picture of composure. he’s calm, collected, and can handle himself in just about any situation, but when you’re too close, all that confidence seems to slip away. it starts small. you’re sitting beside him, maybe sharing a space while working on something, and without thinking, you slide just a little bit closer to him. maybe your arm brushes against his, or your knee nudges his under the table.

it’s enough to throw him off, just for a second. his heart rate picks up slightly, and he tries to hide it behind the screen of his laptop, pretending to focus harder than he really is. but he knows, deep down, that he’s hyperaware of you now—of the way you’re sitting, of the way your presence seems to fill the space between the two of you.

his eyes flicker toward you, but quickly dart away, like he’s afraid you caught him staring. it’s an involuntary reaction, the nervous little shift in his posture as he tries to seem as casual as possible. he clears his throat, his voice slightly quieter than usual. “uh, sorry, was just—just making sure the laptop was charging.”

it’s obvious to you that he’s not really talking about the laptop. he’s trying to act like it’s no big deal, but every time you’re too close to him, tim’s body betrays him. the way his leg shifts a little away from yours under the table, or how he tries to subtly angle his body so there’s just a little more space between you and him, even if he doesn’t want there to be.

you might not notice the subtle movements, but tim does. and every time you get close to him, whether it’s by accident or on purpose, he feels a flutter of nerves that he can’t quite explain. it’s not that he doesn’t want you near him—far from it—but the proximity messes with him in ways he doesn’t understand. his thoughts get jumbled, and his usual calmness slips, replaced by the flustered feeling he’s not used to.

if you ever catch him looking at you, his gaze quickly drops, and a soft blush creeps up his neck. “i—i didn’t mean to—uh, just making sure you’re not too cramped.” he mutters, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his laptop, anything to distract himself from the fact that he’s suddenly very aware of you being so close.

sometimes, when you get too near, tim will just freeze for a moment. it’s like his body can’t process the closeness, and the little awkward silence stretches between you two. it’s not uncomfortable—far from it—but it’s a vulnerable thing for tim, this closeness he doesn’t know how to handle.

but if you keep talking, or even just touch his arm gently when you lean over to look at something, tim’s composure slips even more. he shifts in his seat, trying to act like he’s calm, but his hand might twitch toward yours for just a second before he pulls it away like he’s afraid you’ll notice how he’s reacting.

follows you around during patrol

it’s late at night, the moon casting faint silver light across the streets, and the only sounds are the hum of city life and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. you’re out on a walk, maybe trying to clear your head or just enjoy the quiet, unaware that someone is watching you from the shadows. tim, clad in his suit, has been tailing you for a while now. it’s not that he’s trying to be creepy or intrusive, but rather, he’s just . . . concerned.

tim is the kind of person who can’t turn off his instincts, and tonight, for whatever reason, they’re telling him to stay close. he’s perched high above you on a rooftop, watching you walk along the street below, trying to remain unseen. his red robin suit blends into the darkness of the night, the shadows making him nearly invisible to anyone who might be looking.

he’s not sure why he’s doing it—it’s not like you’ve asked him to keep an eye on you—but there’s something about the quiet stillness of the night that has him on edge. maybe it’s because you’ve been a little distant lately, or maybe he’s just worried something might happen to you in the dark. either way, he’s got his eyes on you, and he won’t stop until you’re safely back where you belong.

he’s quick, agile, moving like a shadow himself. you might hear a faint creak of a fire escape ladder or the flurry of footsteps just out of your line of sight, but when you look, there’s nothing there—just the empty street, the soft glow of streetlights, and the ever-present hum of the city.

it’s when you stop for a moment, distracted by something—maybe you’re checking your phone or admiring a nearby storefront—that he’s closest. in that moment, tim takes a chance, moving closer to you, just a few feet away in the darkened alley. he’s not trying to startle you, but there’s something in his gut that tells him he can’t let you out of his sight, especially when it’s this late, and the streets feel a little emptier than usual.

he’ll hover just out of view, giving you space but never quite leaving you alone. if you keep walking, he follows, keeping his distance but staying close enough to ensure you’re safe. when you stop at a crosswalk or glance around, he’s already a few rooftops away, peering down at you from above, making sure you’re not being followed.

the closer you get to home, the more relaxed tim feels, but he never lets his guard down entirely. even when you reach the safety of your doorstep, he lingers just out of sight, making sure you get inside without any issues. he’ll remain in the shadows for a moment longer, watching as you lock the door behind you, ensuring you’re safe before finally letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

only then does he disappear into the night, his heart still racing, his mind replaying the images of your walk. he’ll retreat to his hidden vantage point, slipping into the dark corners of gotham once more, but the small weight of relief that you’re safe settles deep in his chest. even though he doesn’t want to admit it, there’s a part of him that feels content knowing you’re okay—even if you’ll never know how closely he’s watched over you.

[eyeheartboobiez]

nicknames that bruce + the batboys would call you

warnings: sexual themes in jason’s part, fem!reader a/n: just sumn slight. enjoy😁

⁎⁺˳ 𝒷𝓇𝓊𝒸𝑒 ミ

❀ bruce grew up wealthy so he would definitely call you something more on the classy side

❀ things like darling, angel, dear, my love, etc.

❀ he also has a habit of referring to you as “my wife” (because he’s possessive asf)

❀ “sorry guys, i really can’t stay for another drink. i’ve got to get back to my wife.”

❀ “you said these shoes were dior? oh, im sure my wife would love these.”

❀ on the flip side, he also really likes referring to himself as your husband (one might say he does it for the ego boost)

❀ like whenever you too are meeting someone for the first time, he'll introduce you first and then only introduce himself as "your husband"

❀ because why should someone care about him, a mega rich billionaire, when his lovely and radiant wife is standing right next to him?

⁎⁺˳ 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓀 ミ

❀ dick would definitely be the type to call you something super lovey-dovey and over the top

❀ sugarplum, honey bunches, buttercup, (and if he really wants to get on your nerves,) shnookums

❀ he knows it’s lame, but he genuinely doesn’t care

❀ since his love language is acts of service, you tend to hear a lot of "let me get that for ya, honeybun"

❀ or something like “hey sugarplum! im on my way home from work, you want me to pick up anything?”

❀ or even "don't worry about dinner honeylove, lemme take care of things tonight."

❀ regardless of how annoying it is, you can't help but love his teasing nicknames for you

❀ like you two are that annoying couple that everyone loves can't stand seeing at the function (i know valentine's day hatesss to see yall coming)

❀ off topic but if the two of you had a kid together, i imagine him nicknaming your daughter ‘love bug��� (AWWW)

⁎⁺˳ 𝒿𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 ミ

❀ despite his thick exterior, jason’s a lover boy at heart

❀ he’d call you stuff like babe, doll, sweetheart, hon, y’know all that cheesy stuff

❀ most importantly though, this boy lovesss to call you mama

❀ like for example, he usually likes to greet you with a casual "hey mama, you doin okay?" followed by a quick peck on the check

❀ or if you're being goofy trying to get him to feel better, he'll probably say something like "c'mon mama, cut it out" as a smile inevitably blossoms on his face

❀ alongside this, he also has a weird kink thing for calling himself papa

❀ either “thatsss it sweetheart, come to papa” or “let papa bear handle it, ‘kay? you just sit down there and look pretty f’me.”

❀ you have absolutely no idea where he got it from because jason swears up and down that he's never done it until he got in a relationship with you

⁎⁺˳ 𝓉𝒾𝓂 ミ

❀ while tim is such a sweetheart, so his pet names for you would most definitely reflect that

❀ sweets, pretty, baby love, cutie; simple stuff like that

❀ also, let’s not forget that this boy is a certified LEWSER, so that also shows within you guys’ relationship

❀ he sometimes calls you pookie (he’s chronically online…)

❀ he'd probably be up texting you at 2am (because why wouldn’t be be up at that time) and is like “hey pooks u wanna check out this new italian place i found? i saw that they serve a few of ur faves”

❀ he also has a nasty habit of referring to you as dude or bro

❀ you'll often get random tiktoks from him throughout the day like "bro look this is totally us" or "me & u fr🥹"

❀ sure it's corny but the sentiment is sweet so you don't really mind

❀ a lot of people think the relationship you both have may be a bit odd, but neither of you care (and that's all that matters <3)

[bratscave]

nsfw bruce headcanons !

— with all of his past playboy tendencies, i'm like 99% sure he isn't as rough as tumblr dc smut community makes him out to be. bruce craves genuine love and slow, firmly yearning love making though he'd never openly admit that.

— actually a big yapper during sex? like always gruffing and complaining about something very mandain while like... pulling out your third orgasm?

— literally spends half the night murmuring about logistics or some board meeting as he’s tugging your knees up, pushing you down into the mattress, each word rumbling low and delicious, barely making sense because he's burried into your clit.

— overstimulates you on 'accident', he's just firmly convinced he knows exactly what you're able to handle and to what extent as well. though he'll stop if you say ofc

— likes to loosen up on the dom part of it sometimes, especially when he comes home after a long patrol. in those nights, he’s all grit and quiet murmurs, his usual control slipping as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, half-rough and completely vulnerable, every lingering kiss a reminder of how deeply he needs this, needs you.

— really likes to takes his time, doesn't matter how many cases he has on his deck, when he's with you he's as patient as it possibly gets. it's just to silently show you how special and loved you are and because he simply enjoys it.

[glamourscat]

Can I please request things batboys + Bruce does when they have fallen in love with someone? Things they do for their crush, hinting their feelings etc.?

୨ৎ Batboys + Bruce and what are they like when they have fallen in love ୨ৎ

A/N: when i think about them and having a crush, i always imagine them having a crush on someone they work with or are very close friend with.

──── ୨୧ ─────

DICK 

The worst out of the bunch in hiding his feelings

When he realises he is probably the most chill out of batboys

If his crush is also a vigilante he might pull some strings to patrol with them

His love is loud. There’s no other way of putting it. Thing is, Dick is just so loveable with everyone, most of the time at least. 

He is never shy to let others know how much he cares for them. So, at first you might think he is just being his usual self, just a bit more energetic

Then you pick up on the small things

Like his touch lasting just a bit longer than usual. Him being more protective. Him being around you more. Laughing at your jokes even when they are terrible

How would he hint his feelings? Easy. Terrible cheesy pickup lines, EYE CONTACT, like intense. More touchy than usual, hugs, ruffling hair, nudges… 

──── ୨୧ ─────

JASON

If Dick is the worst at keeping his feelings a secret, jason is the best

Truly you won’t know a thing unless you’re extremely good at reading body language

I imagine him, realising he has a crush, and gaslighting himself into believing he doesn’t

Then something happens, maybe someone flirts with you or simply you seek him out specifically for something you could have gone to anyone else, but you choose him, and he realises he is gone.

At first he might even distance himself and you’re like “what have i done?” because genuinely it’s like a switch happened

But when he comes to terms with his feelings I think his love would be more noticeable on the outside than inside. What I mean is that others would be more prone to pick up on his crush than you. 

He would sit besides you on the couch, thighs touching and everyone is like.. Jason? Allowing you in his personal space? Interesting

Would pay attention to the little things. You said you are cold? Here, his jacket is strangely flying on your shoulders

Gifts you books that remind him of you, annotated with specific passages. 

He doesn’t give hints, hell, in a way he hopes that you won’t notice how much of a sick idiot in love he has become. But in the hopes you do, well, he is cooked isnt he? ( a oneshot coming out soon) 

──── ୨୧ ─────

TIM

The worst. A mix between jason and dick.

If tim likes you, then you’re his best friend, there’s no other way around it lol. 

He would already be clingy, but when he realises he has a crush there’s two things going in his head:

1) panics. He starts running around his room over analyzing every little detail and trying to understand how, when and why he fall for you

2) goes down a rabbit hole. He will overthink everything he has done recently. Was he too clingy? Did you suspect something? Do you feel the same? 

After absolutely losing it, same tim, he will assess the situation. He is good at reading body language. He knows how to listen and he knows how to talk. He is observant and rest assured he will put his vigilante skills to action. 

He wouldn’t necessarily ask you out if he comes to the conclusion you like him back, i think it will happen randomly. Maybe one night you’re over at his, it’s 3am, he doesn’t have patrol tomorrow and you two are watching a show together. The main characters are having some sort of love emotional shambles, maybe there’s a kiss involved. He looks at you, you look at him. There’s a moment of silence unsure if you two should confess your feelings or laugh. At the end, somehow, his lips are on yours– the show long forgotten– as his cold hands cup your cheeks to deepen the kiss.

──── ୨୧ ─────

BRUCE

intense eye contact

he listens and listens almost as if the sole act of listening to your voice is soothing for him

Gifts. Like this man would just randomly increase his gifts. It wouldn’t be at once, but gradually you started to notice that one rose became 5 and then 10. Chocolates turned into gems.

Would ask you to accompany him at events, which is when you know, he is at least seriously interested. Because events and galas, as much as he is not a fan of them, are important to his image. 

Little subtle touches 

He doesn’t really express things by words if he can avoid it, so you need to be good at picking the subtle signs 

Gifts aside, they are nice and surely it’s one of his love languages, but when he makes the effort to get to know the true you and what your interests and hobbies are, safe to say he expects the same interest back. To know that you are at least interested in getting to know him not as batman, not as Wayne but as Bruce, and simply as Bruce will put you 5 steps ahead already. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

do i know realistically that bruce wayne is the type to text formally? yes? but do i think it would be funnier if he texts like gen x (?) with their weird uses of … and overly vague and unsettling messages? absolutely.

like please imagine

bruce: tim is gone..

dick: what???

bruce: to visit konner

dick: omfg

bruce: on the plane..might not make it

duke: what?? bruce is everything ok??

bruce: we will be late

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

headcannon that Bruce has blocked seriously every single thirst trap/edits on him from all devices which his children use, meaning they never really knew how much the public simps on him and how much ✨sass✨ he gives off whenever he's out as Brucie cause he also makes sure that he doesn't act like that whenever he's at a gala with his kids. Basically what I want is-

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

*bursts into the manor*

Dick : DAD WHAT THE FUCK DID U MEAN WHEN U TOLD LEX THAT HIS HEAD IS SHINNER THAN HIS FUTURE, AND THEN ASKED HIM WHY HE WAS RACIST TO SUPERMAN INFRONT OF A THOUSAND REPORTERS?????

Bruce: chum listen-

*red hood burns down the front door*

Bruce: J-Jason-?!

jason :(fresh out from the dead) YOU HAD A THREESOM WITH THE MAYOR AND HIS WIFE THEN EXPOSED THEM FOR MONEY LAUNDERING AND TOLD THEM THEY WERE TERRBLE IN BED.IN.COURT?????!??

Bruce: uh um well it was for justic-

*bursts in through the window*

(let's pretend tim didn't know even if he was a stalker cause his internet access was limited cause of his parents and he didn't care about what others thought of Bruce and never bothered to look into it at all when he was living with him, thought Bruce just blocking it cause he didn't want the kids seeing him pretend to airhead ) (boy was he wrong)

Tim: YOU HAVE ELEVEN PIERCINGS AND YOU WENT TO NINE INCH NAIL CONCERTS WEARING CHAINS????? THERE ARE MORE THIRST TRAPS OF YOU THAN THERE ARE NUMBERS IN MY BANK ACCOUNT!??

Bruce: um-well-uh-about that-

*appears*

Cass *sparkling eyes* fashion show!! Dress! Pretty! (You look so pretty when u walk in fashion shows in a dress!!!)

Bruce: oh thank you cass-

Jason,dick, tim: WHAT

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

Damian: *blissfully unaware back in the league cause Talia didn't tell him either* *she doesn't want to ruin the surprise, she finds it all hilarious*

[thedevilundercover]

I choose to believe that Bruce Wayne just has an infinite money glitch. Imagine how hilarious any conversation regarding money would be with him.

Jason: I need to go get groceries

Bruce *wordlessly hands him one grand*

Jason: what the actual fuck—

Jason: why the hell would I need 1k to buy fucking groceries.

Bruce: what do you mean???? We usually import fruits from Japan so it usually costs around 1k???

Jason: what in the name of rich white men—

—————————

Younger Dick, while perched in a random column in the manor: ugh I wish there was a trapeze in this hell hole

Bruce, almost crying with happiness because he can actually do something for his demon child: hrmmm /happy

Now imagine Tim, who also has no clue how much moneys worth bc he’s a trust fund baby

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WHY ARE YOU CRYING LAIN.” ── .✦ ( what it takes for batboys to cry about their s/o btw I don’t see this as angst!reader but I’m writing a angst fic soon!! )

a/n: this is a request by (here) anyways 620 followers under a month?!?! What the hell tysmm this was shocking to wake up to anywayss um yeah here, I genuinely think this was like only a general hcs of what only batboys cry over but I turned it into like a s/o hc too so sorry tags: ( batboys x s/o )

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Losing You, Even Momentarily: Dick is the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so the idea of losing you whether you’re hurt, missing, or even distant emotionally breaks him in ways he doesn’t know how to hide. If you were ever critically injured during a mission or got caught in the crossfire or a health scare, he’d hold you in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he begs, “Don’t you dare leave me. I can’t lose you. You’re everything to me.”

When You’re Hurt Emotionally: Dick is empathetic to his core. If he ever caught you crying, struggling silently, or feeling like you couldn’t talk to him, he’d break down too. “Why didn’t you come to me? You’re not alone—you’re never alone.” His voice would crack as he hugs you, feeling helpless because he wants to fix it but doesn’t know how.

A Fight That Goes Too Far: Dick hates arguing, but sometimes even he loses control. If words were exchanged that hurt you, he’d cry after you left, clutching his face in his hands because he knows he messed up. He’d spend the entire night trying to fix it because the thought of you being upset because of him kills him. (He has a bit of people pleasing tendencies like me 😭)

JASON TODD ── .✦

Thinking He Doesn’t Deserve You: Jason has deep-seated feelings of unworthiness, and if he ever felt like you deserved better or like you might leave because he’s “too broken,” he’d quietly lose it. You’d find him sitting on the edge of the bed, tears in his eyes as he mutters, “Why are you even with me? I don’t want to ruin you too.”

You in Danger: Jason prides himself on protecting the people he loves, but if there were ever a moment where he couldn’t save you where you were hurt or out of his reach he’d shatter. Holding your unconscious body, he’d whisper through gritted teeth and tears, “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m sorry—I should’ve been faster. Stronger.”

Fighting and Losing Control: Jason fears becoming the worst version of himself. If you ever fought and he lost his temper, saying something he didn’t mean, he’d be crushed afterward. He’d cry silently in his room, replaying the fight over and over in his head, scared you wouldn’t forgive him.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

You Pulling Away: Tim doesn’t always know how to balance his work and love for you. If he noticed you drifting away or feeling neglected because of his vigilante life, he’d hit a breaking point. One night, he’d find himself sitting alone, staring at his phone, tears silently falling as he whispers, “I don’t want to lose you. I’ll do better—I promise.”

When You’re in Pain: Tim’s logical brain often protects him from his emotions, but seeing you in pain—physically or emotionally would be his undoing. He’d try to keep it together for you, but once he’s alone, he’d sit at his desk, head in his hands as sobs wrack his body because he hates seeing the person he loves suffer.

If You’re Gone (Even Temporarily): If you ever went missing or were presumed dead, Tim would break in ways no one else would see. He’d bury himself in work, desperately trying to find you, but in the quiet hours, he’d collapse on the floor surrounded by papers and maps, tears streaming down his face as he murmurs, “Please come back to me. Please.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Failing to Protect You: Damian is fiercely protective of the people he loves, and if you were ever hurt on his watch, it would destroy him. He’d stay at your bedside, barely speaking, but his tears would fall silently as he holds your hand and says, “You are strong so much stronger than me. I am sorry I let this happen.”

Realizing You’re Hurt by Him: Damian doesn’t always know how to express himself, and if he ever unintentionally hurt you—through sharp words or coldness—he’d crumble. He’d isolate himself, his back to the door as he mutters to himself, “I am unworthy of their love. I am no better than the monsters I fight.”

If You Were Gone: Damian doesn’t cry easily, but if he lost you, he’d lock himself away for days. No one would hear his sobs as he grips something of yours—a sweater, a necklace and whispers, “I failed you. I should have been stronger. I would trade anything to bring you back.”

GENERAL ( WITHOUT LOSING YOU OR GETTING HURT YK? ) ── .✦

Dick: He’d cry watching you do something incredibly mundane—like laughing at a joke or helping a stranger because he realizes how lucky he is to have you. The thought of a life without you, even for a second, shakes him to his core.

Jason: He’d cry when he thinks about how you’ve accepted him so completely. “You don’t look at me like I’m broken,” he’d say through tears, pulling you into a hug. “You love me. No one’s ever loved me like this before.”

Tim: He’d cry in relief after a near-miss—maybe you were almost hurt on patrol, but you’re okay. He’d break down in your arms, holding you tightly. “I can’t lose you. You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Damian: He’d cry quietly while watching you sleep, overwhelmed by how much he loves you. He’d brush your hair from your face and murmur, “You are my heart, beloved. Without you, I would have none.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

The Fear of Losing You: Bruce has already lost so much his parents, allies, and people he couldn’t save. If you were ever gravely injured or put in harm’s way, he’d be stoic at first, tending to your wounds or making sure you’re stable. But when the danger is over and he’s alone, the walls would finally break. He’d sit in the Batcave, hands trembling, staring at the blood on his gloves and whispering, “I can’t lose you too. I couldn’t survive that.” His tears would fall silently because he rarely lets himself cry but for you, the thought of losing you would be unbearable.

When You Break Down First: Bruce is emotionally guarded, but if he ever saw you crying really crying because of something he caused or something he failed to protect you from, it would destroy him. He’d pull you into his arms, his voice shaky as he mutters, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear on everything, I will never let this happen again.” When you’ve fallen asleep, he’d sit beside you, quietly crying to himself because the person he loves more than anything is in pain.

During a Rare, Heated Argument: Bruce doesn’t lose control often, but when he does, his words can cut deep. If a fight escalated to the point where you walked away, leaving him standing there in silence, the guilt would eat him alive. He’d find himself sitting alone in the dark manor, hands in his hair as he whispers, “I can’t believe I let that happen. I promised I’d be better.” He wouldn’t hesitate to apologize immediately, but he’d cry later when he realized how close he came to pushing you away.

Realizing You’re the Light in His Life: Bruce is haunted by his past, and sometimes, the weight of his mission makes him forget the beauty in life. But when he sees you—laughing, smiling, or simply existing—he realizes you are the brightest thing in his world. He wouldn’t cry in front of you, but in a rare, quiet moment alone, he’d sit in his study with tears in his eyes, overwhelmed. “I don’t deserve them. But I won’t let anything happen to them. Ever.”

If You Were Gone: Bruce would completely unravel. He’s already built his life around loss, but you? You were his hope, his reason to believe in something beyond the cowl. Without you, he’d wander the manor like a ghost, sitting by your favorite chair or staring at a photo of you for hours. In the dead of night, when no one is around, he’d finally let himself grieve—hands gripping the edges of a desk, shoulders shaking as he whispers your name like a prayer. (Madonna ref?)

MOMENTS WHERE BRUCE GETS EMOTIONAL ── .✦

Seeing You Safe After a Scare: If you ever came home late or after a dangerous night out, Bruce would hold you tightly, kissing the top of your head and murmuring, “You’re home. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.” His voice would crack slightly, betraying the emotion he tries to hide.

When You Remind Him of His Humanity: Bruce isn’t always good with words, but when you’re there—kissing him goodnight, teasing him about his brooding, or cooking something terribly but with love he remembers what happiness feels like. He’d quietly brush a tear away as he watches you, thinking, “They make this life worth living.”

If You Call Him Out on His Guilt: If Bruce ever tried pushing you away because he thought you’d be safer without him, and you confronted him with a heartfelt speech about loving him no matter what, he’d break. He’d pull you into his arms, tears falling as he whispers, “You don’t know how much you mean to me. I can’t lose you. I need you.”

[hanasnx]

PICS OF THEM IN YOUR CAMERA ROLL — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, terry mcginnis, talon.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: personal face claims ノ suggestive content.

✩ BRUCE WAYNE

✩ DICK GRAYSON

✩ JASON TODD

✩ TIM DRAKE

✩ TERRY MCGINNIS

✩ TALON

[arkangelo-7]

Things Bruce Wayne does at Justice League meetings that 100% confirm the fact that he is a Dad.

Makes attempts at referencing pop culture to try and relate to the younger members. The most memorable instance is when he told Flash to “keep running up that hill.” (Dick laughs for an hour when Wally tells him about it.)

Does the iconic groan/grunt whenever he sits down in his chair. It’s hilarious, but no one is dumb enough to laugh at the Batman.

Ensures that the background music exclusively plays Matchbox 20 and Nirvana. Diana is the only one who enjoys this.

Actively complain about how everyone is “ruining his floor” whenever they push back their chairs.

On that note, he also complains about crumbs getting everywhere whenever someone is snacking.

Will (covertly) ask Clark for grilling tips during breaks. Oliver overhears this once and has to go lay down out of shock, because Batman? Grilling?

Declines requests for new equipment/tools/etc. because they “have that at the Watchtower.” This inevitably leads to complaining from the entire JL.

Always, without fail, will ask Hal if he’s changed the oil in the spacecraft recently. Hal doesn’t know whether to be offended or not.

Randomly interrogates members on if they’ve messed with the Hall of Justice’s thermostat. They have not, in fact, touched the thermostat.

Someone needs to stop me because I literally cannot get the image of Bruce being the Typical Dad (tm) of the Justice League.

[dayasusays]

can we please have breeding with bruce wayne and wife!reader?

like feral breeding, maybe he’s had a hard patrol and he’s barely out of the batsuit before he has you on all fours.

maybe his hormones are in over drive from a poison ivy plant he originally thought had no affect on him. but now all he wants to do is fuck until his little wife is filled and he’s satisfied

thank youuuuu

xcherrycreempie

HAWWO !!!!!!

SO HOT. IT’S SO HOT.

I MEAN i have headcanons breeding kink w bruce (it’s here!!), but i can do it again. ofc i can do it again. 🤭

BUT FIRST OF ALL I WANNA SAY THAT I MISSED WRITING !!!

…and requests. i love chatting with all of u 💥💥

and i remember every request!! i promise i’ll write it, my sweethearts 🩷

ANYWAY IN MY HEAD IT’S DEFINITELY SMTH DIRTY IN A GOOD WAY… HEAR ME OUT……

warnings ! — SMUT, fem!wife!reader, husband!bruce wayne, breeding kink, dirty talk, maledom, orgasm torture, feral fuck, multiple orgasm

summary ? — he comes back weird after patrol.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇

he didn't even bother to change his clothes.

“hold on, hold on, bruce!” you try to push him away as wayne continues to kiss you insistently, “at least change!”

and it's weird because he never acts like that. you know very well that bruce hates quick sex and he's willing to spend an hour of foreplay torturing you. of course he's willing to find a couple hours to fuck you good.

but right now he's impatient. he's still in his batsuit, so you can't even see his eyes under that stupid mask.

you reach out to take it off, and bruce even helps you. you pull it off and he slows down, maintaining eye contact.

when you look into his face you realize that his eyebrows are furrowed and his pupils are dilated.

you think it’s something bad, but why is he looks so fucking hot right now?

you don’t know how many times you’ve cum.

your mind is racing with his every move and word, your nails are scratching his back, leaving a red marks, and your mouth open with loud moans.

“you take me so well, baby, just like you wanna make me cum inside,” bruce whispers and bites your nipples gently, “such a wet mess, pretty girl, is it too much to take for you?” he’s fucking you harder with every thrust, your clit is so swollen, your entrance pulsates around his cock and your moan makes him continue.

he flips you onto your stomach in one easy motion without even getting his cock out. you’re whimpering into the pillow and clutching the sheets, trying to beg him to slow down.

“what are you asking for, wifey? speak up,” bruce pulls your hair back, making you arch your back, “you want this cum inside? want me to get you pregnant?” he bites your lobe, speeding up.

you're ready to swear that right now wayne looks so damn hot. his arm muscles tense as he pulls your hair with one and supports you with the other. bruce’s eyelashes must be twitching as he makes one last push and cum inside.

he falls onto the bed next to you, as tired as you are. you cover your eyes and smile slightly as he reaches out for a kiss.

and now he’s okay again, you think. but what the fuck was that?

“you alright?” bruce kisses your cheeks, hugging him tightly. you nod and nuzzle his chest, “did i overdo it?”

i mean, it’s third time he came inside. you don’t feel your legs and he definitely got you pregnant.

“nah,” you smile, “it was perfect.”

hope you’ll like it cherry !!! <3

🦇 abt me | m.list

[ahqkas]

“MILLION DOLLAR MAN — bruce wayne.

PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce met you through a dating app (his sons’ doing, really) and the temptation to invite you over for christmas is getting harder to resist WORD COUNT! 3.6k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce is literally down bad for reader in this one, unedited + lmk if found! NOTES! for nat & based on this req. , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE AVOIDED RELATIONSHIPS LIKE A SOLDIER DODGING BULLETS, each attempt adding yet another layer to the armor he wore daily. He didn’t need them, the women, or so he told himself. They entered his life easily — at his own charity galas, where one pretty bird thought she could get a kiss from him by the end of the night. Female admirers who ate up his charming smiles and sharp eyes seemed to flock around him at all times. And those countless girls who were lured in by the Wayne name, the status, the wealth.

And Bruce gave them the attention they craved from him.

The women served their purpose as brief districtions, companions who helped him maintain his public image, but none of them really mattered to him.

They kept the colder side of his bed warm, but never his heart.

It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t want love — some part of him did, but that part was buried under the weight of Batman. Allowing himself to lose the walls around him and find an attachment in a woman wasn't something his alter ego was okay with, not with the way he’d been living. And another part convinced him that his duties as Gotham’s protector, with all his scars and wounds, didn’t make him a possible object for such things. Love and vigilantism didn’t mingle together well.

Maybe that’s why his own sons and personal butler teamed up on him. Batman was a hero to many, but with how much it damaged Bruce’s internal beliefs, it would ruin him soon enough.

It started as something innocent (but it seemed the wolf was clothed in sheep’s wool): Dick, his oldest, had teased him about his non-existent love life during a training session in the Batcave.

The large space was full with flickering lights coming from the monitors and grunts from the fighting men. Sweat filled the air, masculine and strong, but that only indicated to the hard work they were doing. Training wasn’t easy, they liked to train with the maximum intensity ( it was kinda needed, too ) and it showed. From their damp hair and glistening skin to the rippling muscles underneath their clothes.

“You know, Bruce,” his son started when he blocked yet another strike coming from the man in question. A puff of air left his mouth upon the attack. Not fair. “for someone who spends his nights saving people, you sure are terrible at saving yourself from eternal loneliness.”

Bruce delivered another jab, this one directed straight at Dick’s weak point. “Not now, Dick.”

But his son was nothing if not persistent and he always got what he wanted, whether it was with or without serious consequences. “I’m serious. When was the last time you went on a date? And don’t try to tell me you had one on your arm during the last charity event. That doesn’t count.”

Both of them fully knew Bruce’s arm candies were way more interested in his name and money than in his heart and soul. The truth made his jaw muscles tighten at the realization.

“My personal life is irrelevant to my work.”

Dick took the opportunity and circled the older man like a predator catching the prey’s scent of blood. A sweet weakness, that one. He’d be stupid if he didn’t take the chance. “Is it though? I mean, sure, you’re great at taking down supervillains and brooding on top of high rooftops, but even Batman needs a little action sometimes. The different kind of action, of course. Or are you planning to spend the rest of your life married to the job?”

Bruce swiped his right leg toward Dick’s shins, trying to take him down like he was the said supervillain but the acrobat jumped right on time, avoiding Bruce’s attempt with a grin on his face.

He landed on his feet and crossed his arms at his chest, leaning the weight of his body against one leg. The playfulness disappeared from both his voice and expression and instead, seriousness graced him whole. “Seriously, Bruce, even Alfred’s worried. He brought it up the other day while we were decorating the tree. Something about how the manor feels colder than usual this year.”

“The heating system is fine.”

With Jason gone, it was the truth. His second son had this strange relationship with all the members of the family. Off and on. Off and on. No one truly knew where they stood in Jason’s eyes but he made the effort and showed up on Christmas Eve the other year upon receiving Alfred’s invitation.

Bruce doubted he would show up two years in a row.

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it,” Dick pressed, and effectively added more salt into Bruce’s wounds. It stung and it fucking hurt. As much as Batman was ruthless, it didn’t mean the man under the mask was resistant against the pain his life brought. “You’re not getting any younger, B. It wouldn’t kill you to let someone in. And I don’t mean us. Try to meet someone who isn’t friendly with a criminal record.”

The older man could only stare helplessly at the other. Those words his son, partner, spoke were loud, crawling their way into his mind and much to his dismay, his heart as well.

Before he could voice his dismissal, a younger voice called out. It was familiar in a way family tended to be.

“You are wasting your breath, Grayson. Father has neither the time nor the inclination to entertain your nonsense,” his youngest son declared into the space of Batcave, his voice ringing out and echoing every single word. The blood son, Damian Wayne.

The father didn’t even flinch, just let out a deep sigh through his nose. It was as usual between those two, always bickering from Damian’s side and teasing remarks from Dick’s. You could mistake the blood running through their system as one, if not for the physical differences. They were brothers in all but red.

“Damian,” Dick started in that lecturing tone he’d always seemed to use with the younger boy, “when was the last time you saw Bruce here even try to have a social life?”

Damian rolled his eyes, the green disappearing behind his eyelids before they reappeared, rougher than they were. “The so called ‘social life’ you’re referring to consists of women who barely last through dinner. Why would he waste his energy on distractions when Gotham requires his full attention?”

“Because even Batman needs a break. You know, normal human things? Like dating, smiling, not dying alone in this cave surrounded by bats?”

“If Father is content with his choices, who are you to meddle? Unlike you, he does not require constant companionship to validate his existence.”

“Ouch,” Dick put his palm against his heart in a mocking manner, feigning hurt as his lips formed a pout. “You’ve got a real gift for the Christmas spirit, don’t you?”

The younger son narrowed his eyes at his supposed brother. The constant bickering was almost normal in their lives so far, and nothing seemed to be changing any time soon. He had to learn how to live with the excuse of a brother, although he started to form a light liking towards him. He wasn’t so bad. “I only speak the truth,” his green irises flicked to Bruce. “Though it is peculiar he tolerates your interference. Perhaps even Father has realized how pathetic his current romantic life—or lack thereof—appears.”

The object of the conversation let out another sigh, this one loud enough for the boys to hear. Their gazes snapped toward Bruce with accusingly great speed.

“If you two are done debating my personal life, there’s actual work to be done.”

He missed the glance his oldest threw at the youngest. He missed the look filled with amusement and a plan that was already brewing. He missed the nod they gave each other, although Dick’s was more pronounced and determined.

The next few hours were spent creating Bruce’s dating app profile.

The final result was the definition of real sugar daddy vibes. Every detail had been debated (mostly argued over though) and thought through, so to say the boys were satisfied with it was an understatement. The oldest prided in the work, saying how it would get so many women to reply which would eventually lead to the right one. The middle one Dick and Damian (only Dick) dragged into the activity beamed up once the profile was set while the youngest scoffed and scowled during the entire process.

During the next evening, the boys showed the main man his new account.

Bruce was left speechless upon seeing the bright screen flash before his eyes. Not a single word was muttered as he watched his boys showing him the app and explaining how exactly it worked (he’d never used a dating app before all this so bear with him). The main photo on the profile was a candid one of him, the one Cass had taken on a sunny day in the Wayne Manor gardern. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the long sleeves rolled up past his elbows as the muscles of his forearms bulged up. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the sunlight casting shadows across his sharp features and Bruce had to admit they chose a good photo.

It wasn’t intimidating, but it wasn’t exactly friendly as well. The good old middle.

The boys knew he was convinced to give it a try when he waved them off with a deep sigh slipping past his lips.

The game was on.

It was past the midnight when he lied in his bed, propped against one too many pillows and wondered why he was still scrolling through the damned dating app. It was late—far past the time he should have been out on patrol, but Red Hood and Red Robin got it covered for him.

Bruce wasn’t looking for anything specific, really. If he were honest, this whole situation felt out of place for him. Swiping through the profiles was more like an exercise for his thumb.

First was Madison K. Her profile opened with flashy colors that immediately put Bruce into a doubtful situation. Were all these women going to be like this? Madison was beautiful and her looks screamed professionalism: her makeup was done flawlessly, adorning her bright eyes and full lips. She looked like she belonged on a cover for a fashion magazine, not a dating app. Her bio made his thumb swipe left.

‘Manifesting my best life. CEO of my own happiness. Looking for someone who’s successful, ambitious, and knows how to treat me like a queen.’

The next account’s bio made him grimace and swipe left once again.

‘Looking for someone who can keep me living the dream. If you’re successful, generous, and ready to spoil me, let’s talk.”

At this point, Bruce was ready to delete the dating app his boys set up and enjoy the rest of his night. Most of the profiles he swiped through were simply bland to him. Nothing felt genuine. Right. It was safe to say he was losing the hope Dick had set in him earlier in the evening. Until he stumbled upon your profile.

The account stood out among the others—simple, elegant, but with a certain amount of warmth that seemed genuine. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat once he scrolled further and came across your photo. The picture showed you in a cozy cafe, the one Steph adored so much for their cinnamon roll buns. A soft smile danced on your pretty face, highlighting the curve of your cheeks as you looked off to the side. You captured Bruce in a way the others didn’t.

You looked like a fawn surrounded by hungry wolves. You were admirable while they were craving wealth and status. Two different sides of a coin, but Bruce had already known his pick.

Your bio was sincere, a sight the man liked to see.

‘I enjoy the little moments — finding beauty in the simple things. I believe in kindness, and I’m looking for someone who values honesty and a deep conversation.’

His mind flicked briefly toward the countless hours he spends in the cave, surrounded by work and worries. You seemed like the one who could understand the balance between the quiet and the loud, someone who could exist in both of his worlds without losing that spark you held in your gaze.

Before he could overthink it, Bruce clicked on the “message” button.

Once the screen of your non-existent chat appeared, his mind went blank and all he was capable of was to stare mindlessly at the phone. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but no words came to him. What did one say to someone like you? He wasn’t used to thinking ahead when it came to women. This was a new field. And he couldn’t screw up.

Finally, his fingers moved before his mind could think of whatever embarrassing thing it was capable of.

> Hey, I noticed your profile and wanted to reach out. There’s something about your words that struck a chord with me. I’d like to know more about you.

And that’s how the two of you started your relationship, or whatever you could call it. Neither of you voiced it as official, but that was okay. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, not so soon. And yet it came at him, crashing like a large wave of emotions every time you were around. You changed everything for him.

Your conversations became the highlight of his days.

His ears perked up every single time without a fail when he heard the soft ‘ping!’ of the notification, already convinced it was from you (and it 98 percent was). Whether it was early in the morning before he started working in the chaotic Wayne Enterprises or late at night when the Batcave was quiet and felt at peace. You were always there with him.

You were thoughtful, generous, and refreshingly kind. You asked him questions that no one else dared to: what he wanted from life, what made him happy, what kept him awake at night. You didn’t flinch at his silence. You didn’t push him to give answers he wasn’t ready to share. You understood him in a way only a few people did.

Piece by piece, he let you into his world — not that part filled with constant danger and threats, but that part that longed for something real.

By the time Christmas approached, Bruce was sure of one thing: he wanted you in his life.

The holiday was just around the corner, filling the air with joy and gratitude as it always did. The snow was blanketing the streets with white powder, and although many people were complaining about the cold, it had its charm.

Christmas had always been about family for Bruce, about gathering around the tree and full table with the people who mattered most. It was lonely at first, after the death of his parents, but over the years, Alfred had made it work. The table was always full of tasty food the kids adored and presents Bruce knew would make them more than happy were neatly waiting for them every morning after Christmas Eve.

This year though, Bruce wanted it to be a little different. He wanted you to be part of it.

You might actually fit into the chaos of the Wayne family — the teasing and playful banters between you, Dick, and Tim would be absolute gold to hear. You probably even could handle Damian’s wit which was something his father would like to see. He could picture you smiling, holding back your own remarks. The idea of you sitting beside him at the long dining table, sharing their traditions, made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to.

That night, he sent you a message.

> Are you free on Christmas Eve?

Your response came in quickly, as it always did. Bruce’s heart thumped against the bones of his ribs.

> I am. Why?

He hesitated for a bit, overthinking his decision.

> I’d like you to join me for dinner. It’s a family thing but I’d really like for you to be there.

> Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

> You wouldn’t be intruding.

Bruce could picture the light frown between your brows and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You often did it unconsciously, never knowing how pretty you looked this way. But even as he pictured your face, a part of him was growing more nervous about the situation. Would you agree to an event this serious? Spend Christmas with him. And his family. Or were you coming up with excuses right now? He wouldn’t blame you.

> Then I’d love to come.

His heart skipped a beat and that night, Bruce went to bed feeling a little lighter than he usually did.

Snow blanketed the long driveway leading up to Wayne Manor and for once, Bruce wasn’t thinking about the pressure of Batman or the chaos the boys would definitely stir up tonight. His attention was entirely focused on the one making your way towards him. He stood just outside the grand entrance, dressed in a dark, perfectly tailored suit that fit him like a glove. The soft crunch of tires on the white powder alerted him to your arrival, and as your car pulled up, Bruce started to feel the nervousness. He adjusted his tie with a single hand.

When you stepped out, his breath caught.

You were breathtakingly beautiful. Dressed in an inky black that hugged your figure in all the right places, the fabric shimmered under the outdoor lights of the mansion. The smile you gave him when your eyes met melted all the nerves that had been harboring in his system. He was finally calm and composed, for what seemed like the first time in the evening.

“You’re early,” Bruce pointed out softly when you walked up the stairs to meet him in front of the door, and his eyes sparkled with little stars at the sight of you. How did he get so lucky? “You look stunning, by the way.”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting. And thank you. You clean up well, too, Bruce.”

Your gaze held a playful edge in it as you accepted his hand, locking your palm around his bulging biceps and squeezing warmly. The touch added the missing piece of the puzzle Bruce was trying to solve while his cheeks warmed a rosy pink under your influence without any hesitation. The gesture felt natural, like it always belonged there.

The two of you approached the doors of the manor in a shared silence, although it didn’t feel a bit awkward. You took a moment to take in the place. It was like something out of your childhood dreams — tall, arched windows glowing with the soft light of a dozen garlands lining the entryway. The faint hum of holiday music and the occasional sound of laughter echoed through the manor.

It was Bruce’s home.

“Do you always go this big for Christmas?” you voiced a question that's been sitting on your mind since the moment you saw the large Christmas tree from the entryway to Bruce’s living room. Decorated with lots of ornaments, it looked lovely, accompanied by a heap of presents.

“Alfred insists,” admitting with a soft chuckle, Bruce rubbed the nape of his neck as he led you deeper into his home. “And the boys like the holidays. I want them to have the best.”

The scent of pine and cinnamon enveloped your senses the further you moved. The sounds grew louder, too. You awe made him feel lighter somehow. The dining room at Wayne Manor was nothing short of spectacular this night, with the long mahogany table adorned with a dozen of flickering candles and plates of food that looked like it belonged in a holiday spread for a cookbook.

You were sitting beside Bruce (he kind of insisted anyway), your hand occasionally brushing against his. He helped you settle into the chair which earned a teasing glance from Dick. Speaking of his oldest son, he was sitting across from you with an easy grin that told you some questions would come your way sooner or later. Tim was at Dick’s right, while Damian occupied the chair from the other side of his father.

The evening was more than successful in your opinion. Steph asked you about your favorite literature, while Tim quizzed you on trivia about Gotham (which you surprisingly got all right). Damian, after much persistence from Dick, shared a story about his latest art project, though he kept glancing at you as if trying to gauge your reaction.

Through it all, Bruce remained by your side.

When the night finally came to an end, and everyone drifted to their own space of the manor, Bruce walked you to the entrance with a gentle hand against the small of your back.

“Thank you,” his gaze met yours as he handed you your coat, effortlessly helping you slip your arms into the sleeves. “For coming tonight. For putting up with them.”

You gifted him with the most precious kind of a present; your smile, smaller hands reaching up to adjust the collar of his dark suit. “Of course. They’re wonderful, Bruce. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

For a man who othen found himself at loss for words when it came to talking in emotions, Bruce found himself smiling softly with his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Because for the first time, Christmas didn’t feel like an obligation. It felt like a new beginning.