#bruce Wayne imagine

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could you please write sweet,subtle,cute things batboys+Bruce does when they are crushing on reader?

Dick

He wants to spend a lot of time with you. Literally.

He’s very much the kind of guy who wanted to see you smile and laugh with every interaction that you had with him, just so he could shamelessly memories both your laughter and smile to his memory long after the outing you both had was over.

He would make goofy remarks or recall a story from recent memory that he thought would make your day a bit brighter. Gotham was often a depressing city that could easily damper anyone’s mood with its lack of dramatic change to better the lives of the people who lived within the seemingly cursed town.

So seeing you happy and smiling was more than enough to keep Dick’s hopes up for a better future, hopefully for the both of you should you reciprocate his feelings. He’d gladly die knowing that the last thing he remembers was your laughter and smiling face, looking like an absolute angel in his eyes, but this was him just being a dramatic romantic who just wished to be the very reason you lived a relatively happy life.

Dick would use Hayley quite often when he wanted you to prolong your stay at his place, claiming she’s going to miss you greatly, when it was actually him who’d miss you the moment you walked out the door. After all who could say no to a cute doggy that looked up at you with thoughtless but happy to be there eyes. So it wasn’t uncommon that you and Dick would take Hayley out on walks together through a safe area where he would let Hayley off the leash, only to watch with a warmth blossoming within his chest as you and Hayley enjoyed each others company.

Dick would come to see you, himself and Hayley as a little family of your own making and would love nothing more than to have this become a common thing. Something he wished would become a thing of reality rather than a fantasy he’d visit within his sleep, but he can take what he can get for you being in his life was more then enough, even if there wasn’t a label to what you were to each other.

Another thing he would do was buy you things that he’d thought you’d like. Anything that he saw within a shop window that reminded Dick of you was already bought within minutes as he would then go on a hunt for more things to buy you for the sake of spoiling you for being his anchor and his person through thick and thin. It could be blankets, plushies or sweets that he knew you’d find comfort in it didn’t really matter as he’d treat you like the royalty you were in his mind, all the while getting you a silly card with a cleverly thought out pun that he would write an equally silly message within it, hoping it would become a keepsake to look back on with a sappy but warm feeling within your chest.

Bruce

Very giving but he would act like a real distinguished gentleman towards you.

Alfred raised him right that’s for fucking sure.

He’s the type to never let you pay for anything, always having his card in hand to hand off to the waiter, nor to place on the card reader in a retail store, before you has the chance to reach inside your purse/wallet. It didn’t help that he looked smug after paying for the things that you let your eyes linger a second too long upon.

The man didn’t fear for the loss of money in his bank for as soon as the money was spent, the money lost was quickly replenished within the blink of an eye. No exaggeration.

Bruce would only want to be a provider for you and the type of partner that you could feel safest with as he takes care of you and your needs first and foremost, all the while making sure to make your life a hell of a lot more easier as he helps you by helping you into your shoes, zipping up your coat when it’s cold and put gloves on your hands while stroking the backs of your hands gently; offering you his arm with a smile afterwards as he escorted you both out of the manor to attend a charity event that Wayne Enterprises was hosting.

He personally asks for you to company him to these such grand events as his plus one, even offering to buy you formal attire should you lack any in your wardrobe, or go ahead into buying you one regardless and giving it to you as a present just so he could see your raw reaction himself when you opened the box to see the high quality attire he had picked out for you. Ironically it matched his own attire but in the most subtle of ways that not many would spot unless they were actively looking.

The press have a field day with this as you were frequently seen on Wayne’s arm, so much so that they called you his secret spouse in the tabloids, not that you see them as serious though as the press will make anything up to get people to read their half baked stories.

Offers to drive you home all the time no matter what, it didn’t matter if your home was within walking distance Bruce didn’t feel it was necessary for you to walk alone home when he had a perfect car in excuse use to take you home instead. Just give him a text and he’ll come over within minutes, but even if you didn’t text him he’ll turn up anyway as though he knew where you’d be, and when asked about it he only shrugs and says that he was merely in the same place at the same time, you joked and said that he might’ve been tracking you and Bruce only cleared his throat as he drove you home.

Damian

He’s not so quick to anger when it comes to you, almost like your presence was all that was needed to reassure his mind and bring peace to it without needing to try.

No outbursts came your way at all that many thought you were the one person Damian would never yell at, and they were right but Damian would deny all of this, but even deep down he knew it was something he couldn’t deny forever not if he was going to confess his deepest feelings sooner or later.

He felt as though he could experience a normal life with you as he found himself confining in you with things that he didn’t tell anyone else. You were his safe space whether or not you were aware of it, and sooner or later Damian found himself smiling and laughing and enjoying life as he taught you how to draw.

He was patient with you, more then he ever was with anyone else as he taught you brush strokes, to knowing what type of pencil to use for effective shading along with shading techniques and which ones would make your sketches some more life to them. If it seemed as though you were struggling with his verbal instructions, he’ll use a fresh page in his sketch book and show you firsthand how to do it in a step by step manner, waiting for you to follow along his steps and smiling softly to himself when your finish sketch looked similar to his.

He’s happy that he’s made you happy, it’s not something he’s ever done but if it was just for you then he’ll do it again for the rest of his life.

He’ll even let you name an animal he found abandoned somewhere, letting you hold it in your hands and loving the image before him as you smiled down at the animal he found, handling it with uttermost care as though you were afraid of hurting them. Once you’ve given it a name, Damian will treasure it by always holding them against his chest wherever he could when the occasion arises, as they were the closest thing to you in this point and time. And he smiles every time he looks at them and feels a lightness within his chest.

He’ll use the little guy to have your constant company…not that he’ll ever admit to using such a tactic to anyone.

Jason

He’s a lot more lighthearted with you and playful, almost as if the boy he used to be was coming through.

He’s softer towards you also as he would always be the first to offer you help with whatever you needed without a second thought. He wanted to be helpful towards you, and so he would go out of his way and prove himself as such by doing small but meaningful things that he’d knew you’d appreciate greatly, whether that be getting your coat or reminding you of whether you were forgetting to take your mandatory medication. Literally anything you needed help with Jason will do it without being hesitation.

This then becomes him doing stuff on your behalf that he knew you didn’t like by memory because he remembered everything about you, from your likes to your dislikes, anything related to you he remembers it as though he had known for a long time.

He just wanted to show to you that he wasn’t what others perceived him to be, he didn’t want you to think of him as an angry, broken, hollow husk of a man who knew nothing but revenge and self destructive tendencies that left him feeling lonelier then ever.

Jason would offer up his apartment as your safe reprieve, you were allowed to enter his place whenever you please. He didn’t mind either way as your presence was a much welcomed one, for Jason had never had he felt comfortable in going home just to find you waiting for him with a smile, whether or not your good at cooking didn’t matter as he could easily cook you both up something, or you’d both go to the nearest fast food restaurant for some much needed greasy comfort food.

The domestic act of having you in his apartment constantly that sooner or later he’s seen that you’ve made the apartment even more like home to him, for it has traces of you scattered here and there and Jason couldn’t help but smile at seeing your touches made to his home that he could only wish that he could ask you to move into his apartment permanently. He knew he couldn’t ask that of you yet, especially not when he has still to confess to you.

He’s protective over you and was more then willing to scare off anyone that was doing your head in by overstepping your boundaries. So once they had left you alone Jason would look to you and ask whether you were okay in a soft tone. His eyes filled with concerned he holds you by the shoulders, looking you over incase you were hiding anything from him before moving forward, making sure that there was no one else to cause you problems for the rest of the day.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Rumors

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader (no specific characterization, but he wears the eye makeup from The Batman)

Summary: Gotham has shared rumors about you and Bruce for years, and Bruce finally decides to do something about them.

Warnings: none, I think! it's mostly fluff

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Inspired by Rumor by Lee Brice + Battinson's eye makeup

A/N: I just found this and have no idea how long ago I wrote it. I edited it, but hopefully it's decent!

Masterlist | DC/Bruce Wayne Masterlist | Request Info

It’s late; the sun disappeared hours ago, and the pale moonlight took its place. This is when Gotham looks its prettiest, with no bright light to shine on the dark alleys, dirty streets, and criminals lurking around corners. But this is also when Gotham is at its worst. No one knows that more than you and Bruce Wayne.

Everyone in Gotham, you included, has tried to label the relationship you have with the billionaire, but no one seems to be able to decide on a suitable title; you’re too close to be colleagues, not close enough to be partners, friends seems to be too little, but in a relationship feels like a stretch. No matter what the tabloids call the two of you from week to week, you’re constant. Never apart for more than a day or two, Gotham’s prince and his seemingly dearest friend are seen together far more often than you are seen apart.

Your eyes burn as you force them to stay open, clicking the mouse to read another article in the Journal of the American Medical Association. You’re not a doctor and never wanted to be, but it seems to be the only thing able to hold your attention and keep you awake. Somewhere above you, in Wayne Manor, a grandfather clock rings, signaling the beginning of the witching hour. The police scanners have been quiet for several minutes, and the walkie-talkie beside your cell phone is silent. Your head turns toward the garage entrance as you stop scrolling through the abstract for an article about obstructive sleep apnea. Your attention is captured by the familiar sound of the Batmobile rumbling in the night. The engine idles for a moment before silence reclaims the cave, the headlights dimming and allowing the peaceful darkness to overtake the night again.

“Quiet night?” you ask quietly, your voice carrying to not disturb the rare peacefulness surrounding you.

“Yeah,” the gruff voice of Batman responds.

He lifts his tired arms to remove his cowl, sets it on the desk, and flits his eyes across the computer screen before they land on you. Baby blues scan up and down your frame before finding your face as if you were the one who had been in danger all night; as if you could have been injured sitting in the plush office chair and reading medical journals.

“Alfred left your dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry,” you say, smiling softly as you stand.

You lift your hand and push Bruce’s hair off his forehead, a sigh escaping his lips at the contact. It’s been too long since someone touched him like this, even though you did so just this morning before his business meeting.

“‘M not hungry,” he says, his voice returned to normal. Bruce, not Batman.

“You should get some sleep.”

“So should you.”

“After you.”

He carefully removes his suit, places it on its stand in the Batcave, now donning sweatpants and a t-shirt, looking much softer than he had mere minutes ago. You take his hand and lead him to the elevator, leaning against the rail as it takes you up into Wayne Manor, opening into a dark hallway. Bruce takes the lead, expertly navigating his home and entering his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours.

“Bruce,” you say, tugging his hand as he makes a beeline for his bed. “Your eyes.”

“Right,” he sighs, releasing your hand and moving to the bathroom.

You follow him silently, laying your hand atop his own as you gently pull a washcloth from his fingers. Nodding at him, you gesture toward the closed toilet, which he sits down on, and tilt his head up slightly. After wetting the washcloth and grabbing the gentle skin cleanser from his cabinet, you move to stand before him, unsurprised when his hands find your hips and pull you closer, now standing between his legs. The silence surrounding the two of you is never uncomfortable but a relief from the stresses and pains of daily life in Gotham. As you raise the washcloth, he closes his eyes. You gently wipe the excess makeup from his skin before adding the cleanser and watching the color lift off his skin. With each gentle stroke of the washcloth, he looks more like Bruce Wayne.

“Done,” you whisper, stepping away from him and rinsing the black product from the washcloth.

“Thank you,” he says lowly, standing and wrapping his arms around your waist, his chest pressed to your back as he drops his chin to your shoulder. “For everything.”

You smile at him in the mirror before leading him to bed, not arguing when he asks you to lay with him. The comfort of someone you care about by your side all night is unlike any other.

The first Wayne Charity Gala since the murder of Thomas and Martha is officially underway. Gotham officials and citizens have been eagerly and impatiently counting the days since the announcement several weeks ago. You spearheaded the planning, running constant interference between Bruce Wayne and picky Wayne Enterprises partners. The gala was planned to the minute, not a detail forgotten. Bruce had agreed to make a public entrance on the condition he had a table to himself, a wish that was quickly granted. The ballroom is now filled with people, co-planners talking in the earpiece you wear as you survey everything from the corner.

“We need more champagne in section 7,” you say into your microphone.

“On it,” a response sounds immediately. Several servers carrying full trays exit the kitchen and move to their assigned sections.

You begin making laps around the room, sticking to shadows and corners, politely greeting guests as you met them. The gala begun twenty minutes ago, and the building was already nearing maximum occupancy. The entertainment has yet to begin, waiting for the mayor, Bruce Wayne, and several other prominent Gothamites to arrive. The roar of paparazzi from outside the large double doors signals the arrival of one of these people. All eyes are on the door as they open yet again and everyone watches the mayor enter and greet her fellow citizens. Shortly after, the man of the hour makes his grand entrance. Bruce's dark hair is styled, and a new navy suit adorns his strong figure. He shakes hands with a fake smile plastered on his face as he makes his way to his table near the back door. Relief washes across his face as he reaches it, conversing briefly with a Wayne Enterprises associate before she is called away. You watch him with a smile, still listening to the gala workers in your ear.

“The mayor will be on stage in two minutes,” someone alerts.

“Perfect. After her speech, escort the entertainment to the stage,” you respond.

After a short detour to ensure the backstage area is to Wayne Enterprises’ standards, you are surprised to see Bruce Wayne’s table empty. The mayor approaches the stage, the chatter in the room quieting as people find their seats. You walk around a pillar and nearly run into a waiter. You apologize as you step backward and hit someone’s chest. Strong arms wrap around your waist, keeping you upright and away from the floor.

“I apologize,” you say as you separate yourself from your savior, nodding to the waiter before he returns to the kitchen. “May I get you anything?” you ask as you turn to face the man who had caught you. Oh.

“You could take a break. Join me at my table. I do have a plus one,” Bruce replies with a smile.

“Actually, you don’t. You waived it when you only RSVP’d for yourself,” you retort playfully.

“I don’t think they’ll mind,” he whispers conspiratorially.

“Mr. Wayne, I have work to do.”

“Five minutes. You can’t honestly tell me you don’t want a break from those heels.”

“As right as you are, there is a lot of press in here; you’re dealing with enough headlines right now.”

You peek around the corner and see the lights dimming.

“You need to get back out there,” you say, gently pushing him toward his table.

He catches your wrist gently and asks, “Find me when you get a chance?”

“If you haven’t ditched by the time I get a break, I will find you,” you promise.

He smiles and nods before returning to his table. You continue your rounds during the mayor’s speech and the beginning of the entertainment show. Concerns from the staff lead you to the kitchen, where you decide to open another box of the expensive champagne and begin serving dessert early. Many laps later, the gala is winding down as guests begin leaving, and the entertainment thanks the audience before they exit the stage. Within an hour, only a few guests remain, and the cleaning staff is waiting for them to leave to begin cleanup. You cross the room to gather the guest books from each table.

“You know how to plan a gala. I should let you do it more often,” a familiar voice says from behind you.

You smile as you turn to face Bruce. “No,” you protest softly as he tries to take the books from your arms. “You’re a guest.”

He tilts his head before looking around the room. “As the only one, I think it’s okay.”

You look around too, and notice the last guests are gone. You wave to alert the cleaning crew they’re ready to begin. As they enter the ballroom, Bruce uses the distraction and gently takes the guest books from you.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Bruce says, offering his free arm to you.

“I was going to stay and-“

“You’ve done more than enough, let’s go,” Bruce implores.

You disconnect your earpiece to leave them in the staff dressing room to be picked up in the morning. The guest books are placed aside to be cataloged and used for thank-you cards next week. After, Bruce leads you to his car, opens the passenger door, and helps you in before getting in himself. He drives back to Wayne Manor in comfortable silence, parks in the main garage, and leads you to one of the many guest rooms.

“There should be clothes in the closet, help yourself” Bruce says as he turns on the light.

You open the closet and see everything from pajamas to work clothes to evening gowns, and it is all your size. “What is all this?” you ask, turning to look at Bruce.

“Alfred and I thought that since you spend so much time here and do so much for us, you deserved your own space,” he explains with a shrug.

“You didn’t have to-” you interrupt yourself with a yawn - “do all this.”

“We wanted to. Get changed and meet me in the bathroom.”

You change before entering the bathroom, as requested. Bruce gestures to a soft chair at the vanity, and you sit down, looking up at him as he approaches you.

“My turn to return the favor.” He smiles before removing makeup from your face with soft touches. Pleased with the success of the makeup wipe, he turns and procures a wet washcloth, wetting your skin before he applies face wash and gently rubs it into your skin. After he rinses the face wash off, he picks up a brand-new bottle of your favorite moisturizer and applies it to your face and neck before wiping his hands on a separate towel. “Need anything else?” he asks.

“That was way more than I did for you,” you mumble sleepily.

“You do more for me than you realize,” Bruce states. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I need a plus one to the gala,” Bruce says as he enters your new office.

“Okay, Mr. Wayne,” you answer, pulling up the gala attendance list on your computer. “Who should I put down? Ms. Kyle?”

Bruce pinches his eyebrows together briefly before shaking his head. “No. I wrote it down to ensure you understand.”

He hands you a card, watching with a smile as you read your name.

“Mr. Wayne, I’m planning and working the gala, I can’t-“

“Pick someone else to run this one. You can still plan it, but I want you to come with me. If you agree, of course.”

“I’d love to. What about the press? Aren’t you worried about what they’ll say?”

“Not a bit. So, do I have a date?”

“You do, Mr. Wayne,” you answer with a smile.

“Perfect.” Bruce returns your smile, and you know you made the right choice.

You get ready for the gala at Wayne Manor. After choosing one of the gowns from the closet Bruce prepared for you, you gratefully accept Dory’s help with your hair and makeup.

Bruce knocks on your door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. He stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you. You look very handsome,” you respond.

Upon arriving at the gala, Bruce takes your hand as you both walked through the hordes of press and into the venue.

“You outdid yourself,” Bruce whispers, looking at the elaborate decorations and settings.

You smile, squeezing his hand gently as he leads you toward your table, never releasing your hand as he speaks to several people. After excusing himself, he asks you to dance. You stare up at him, dumbfounded that Bruce Wayne just asked you to dance. He pulls you against his side without waiting for an answer and leads you to the dance floor.

“Bruce, you know all the rumors are going to start again, right?” you ask as he places a hand on your hip and takes your hand in his other. Your hand raises to his shoulder while your eyes stay trained on his, unwilling to look around and see all the people staring.

“What if they weren’t rumors this time?” Bruce asks, leading the dance.

“What do you mean?”

“There have been rumors going around for years about me and you. Stirring up Gotham’s richest and criminals alike. Tell me why we are the only ones trying to deny this feeling. I feel it.”

“I do too,” you assure him softly.

“So, we can shut them down, I can shift the attention of the reporters,” Bruce begins. “Or… we could make it true.”

“Do you want to keep them talking or make them stop?” you counter.

Bruce doesn’t answer, finishing the dance. As the music fades, you drop your hands, but Bruce adjusts his grip on your waist and pulls you into a kiss that captures everyone’s attentions. Cameras flash, paparazzi yell, and Wayne Enterprises employees whisper to one another as several pay up for long-standing bets. Gotham knows what to call us know, you think.

You pull back first, and Bruce rests his forehead against yours.

“Maybe that will keep their focus of Batman for a few days,” he murmurs.

“One rumor at a time, Bruce.”

[batmanlovesnirvana]

— ‘our love still remains.’

BRUCE WAYNE X FEM!READER

ONE SHOT | angst, death, murder, depression, drugs, suicidal thoughts.

synopsis : A year had passed since you died, but grief lingered, clinging to Bruce like the ash of a fire long extinguished.

A/N : This was inspired by this haunting scene between Thomas Shelby and Grace’s ghost. It’s one of my favorite moments—so raw and emotional—and I couldn’t help but feel it resonates deeply with Bruce. The weight of grief, love, and unresolved pain feels like a perfect fit for his character.

English isn’t my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes!

WAYNE MANOR had never seemed so empty.

A place once filled with quiet purpose, with the steady rhythm of lives intertwined, was now a mausoleum—a tomb for memories that Bruce could neither escape nor embrace.

You had been dead for a year, and with you, everything human in him had begun to rot.

He was barely functional. No. That wasn't right. He wasn't functional at all. 

A ghost of himself wandered these halls, sat in these rooms, wore his skin, but it wasn't him. 

Not anymore.

The fire in the study crackled weakly, but its warmth never reached him. It flickered, casting trembling shadows on the dark oak walls, as if mocking his inability to burn with anything but guilt.

Bruce sat hunched in his chair, his head low, his shirt disheveled and sleeves rolled up. 

The man who had once stood as Gotham's unshakable guardian, a force of sheer will, was now a fractured thing.

His eyes, sunken and bloodshot, stared into the flames, but they saw nothing. He didn't need to see. He had already memorized the way the world looked without you in it.

The decanter of whiskey shimmered in the firelight, its amber liquid untouched at his side. He had never been one to drink—not before. But since you'd been gone, nothing was the same.

Tonight, though, the glass remained full. Not yet. Not for this. 

He couldn't dull the edges of this particular torment. He had to feel it, let it pull him under, heavy and unrelenting, like a stone tethered to his chest, dragging him to the depths.

His hand hovered over the glass, fingers curling tightly around it, the tension in his knuckles sharp and pale. The tremor wasn't from the cold but from the brutal weight of his own restraint. His mind hissed its merciless refrain, over and over, unyielding:

It should've been me. Not you.

Me. Not you.

Me. Not you.

The glass gave way with a brittle snap, the shards biting into his palm, the sound cutting through the suffocating quiet like a scream. He didn't flinch. The brief sting was insignificant, a pale shadow of the raw, festering wound buried deep within—a wound that time had refused to heal, a wound that still bled.

He craves the burn. Craves the searing pain, the consuming fire that might finally match the inferno raging inside him—the fire that could never touch you the way it's devoured him.

The night presses close, suffocating and merciless, but he doesn't move.

He doesn't patrol. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat.

He simply exists, caught in the liminal space where grief and guilt coil around each other, tightening like a noose. Waiting—for the silence to break, for the weight to crush him, for something, anything, to drag him back from the edge of this endless void.

The door sighed as it swung open, the faint creak swallowed by the oppressive stillness.

Alfred entered, a silver tray balanced in his steady hands, its polished surface catching the flickering glow of the fire. Every movement was deliberate, quiet, as though the room itself demanded reverence. He set the tray down with a soft clink, his weathered face composed, but his eyes—sharp and searching—betrayed the concern he could no longer contain.

"Master Wayne..." His voice was soft, hesitant, like stepping onto fragile ground.

Bruce didn't stir. His gaze remained fixed on the fire, the flames reflected in his eyes like ghosts of battles fought and lost.

Undeterred, Alfred took a step closer, his measured footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. "I thought you might need something to eat. It's been... some time." His tone was calm, but beneath it lay a quiet plea.

The silence stretched, vast and unyielding. Bruce remained a statue, motionless, unhearing—or perhaps unwilling to hear.

Alfred lingered, his hands clasped behind his back. He studied the man slumped in the chair, once an unshakable force—a sentinel against the darkness, a man who bore the weight of Gotham like it was his birthright.

But now?

Now, he was something hollow.

A shadow consumed by grief, its edges blurred, its substance eaten away until nothing but silence remained.

"No patrol tonight, then?" Alfred asked, though he already knew the answer.

Bruce's hands trembled faintly—not from the cold, nor from the blood still drying on his knuckles—but from something far deeper, raw and unrelenting.

The old butler sighed.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a small glass vial and placed it on the tray with deliberate care. The gesture was quiet, pointed—a subtle admonition wrapped in concern.

"I'm worried, sir," Alfred said, his voice thick with the weight of restrained emotion. "About the medicine. You've been relying on it too much."

Bruce's eyes flicked to the vial, his fingers curling involuntarily, but his lips remained sealed.

His gaze turned distant, unfocused, as though he were retreating into some unreachable corner of his mind. The flicker of firelight played across his expression, but it gave nothing away. The silence, though, spoke volumes.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth feeble against the icy void that seemed to envelop the room.

"She wouldn't want this," Alfred ventured at last, his voice trembling at the edges. The words came haltingly, heavy with pain. Saying them was a struggle; even he found it difficult to speak of her. "I know it's hard, but—"

But he faltered.

What could he say to a man who had lost so much? To a man who believed the one constant in his life—the one light in his endless night—had slipped from his grasp because of him? What comfort could Alfred offer someone who carried the unbearable weight of guilt and grief and punished himself for it, day after day?

Not even the ever-thoughtful Alfred had answers for that.

He lingered for a moment longer, his weathered gaze heavy with unspoken worry, before letting out a quiet, resigned sigh. Stepping back, he retreated as softly as he'd entered, unwilling to disturb the fragile stillness any further.

The door closed behind him with a muted click, leaving Bruce alone once more in the oppressive quiet, the firelight casting shadows that danced like ghosts around the room.

Bruce didn't move. The tray remained untouched, its polished surface glinting dully in the flickering firelight. The room seemed colder somehow, emptier, as though the flames themselves were losing the will to fight against the encroaching dark.

The silence pressed down, heavy and suffocating.

His hand moved slowly, hesitantly, reaching for the vial. His fingers trembled as they closed around the cool glass, the faint quiver betraying the storm raging beneath his impassive exterior. He held it up, watching the liquid swirl under the amber glow of the fire. For a moment, he hesitated—then tipped his head back, letting the bitter contents slide down his throat in one unbroken motion.

The burn was sharp. Familiar. Almost comforting.

But it fixed nothing.

The ache inside him remained, raw and unrelenting. He stayed rooted to the chair, unable to move, the weight of his grief pinning him down. His eyes drifted to the shards of glass scattered across the carpet, their jagged edges catching the firelight like cruel reflections of his fractured soul.

With a sudden, violent motion, he hurled the empty vial into the flames. It shattered on impact, the fire greedily consuming the fragments until nothing remained.

His head dropped into his hands, shoulders curling inward as though trying to shield himself from the crushing weight of everything he couldn't escape. The room fell silent again, save for the crackle of the fire, each ember rising like a ghost of what once was.

And then, it happened. Just as it always did.

The impossible.

You appeared.

Bruce's cold, detached eyes flickered, his breath hitching as the warmth of an illusion—one he neither welcomed nor could let go—took shape before him.

You were perched on the edge of the canopy seat by the window, your silk pajamas catching the soft firelight in a way that felt achingly real. One leg was tucked beneath you, the other dangling lazily, your toes grazing the rug in that familiar way that sent a sharp pang through his chest.

Your hair spilled loose around your shoulders, soft and untamed, just as it had on those stolen nights when dawn would catch you both mid-conversation, the rest of the world forgotten.

And then there was the smile. That quiet, tender smile—the one that had unraveled him every time, breaking through walls he hadn't even realized he'd built.

The billionaire swallowed hard, his voice hoarse when he finally spoke. "What now?"

Bruce's bitter smile wavered as you tilted your head, amusement flickering in your eyes like embers in the fire.

"What am I, a genie?" you teased, your voice light but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken. Your gaze darted to the flames, where the shattered remnants of the vial had disappeared. "Summoning me with your little bottle of dope?"

His laugh was dry, almost inaudible. "I take it for the pain," he murmured, the words heavy, fragile, as if they might shatter under the weight of his grief. His eyes found yours, softening in a way that made him feel utterly exposed. "To keep warm."

You moved then, gliding across the room with that effortless grace he had memorized, your bare feet soundless against the carpet. He stiffened when he felt your fingers ghost across his shoulder—a touch too warm, too tender to be real. Yet he didn't pull away.

"Is that what it's for?" you asked, your voice wrapping around him like a balm for a wound that would never heal. "The warmth?"

Bruce closed his eyes, his head dipping forward slightly as if trying to catch just a moment more of the phantom sensation. "The warmth," he echoed, his voice breaking. "All this time..."

You moved again, slipping into the space beside him on the couch, your presence as vivid as the firelight dancing in his peripheral vision.

He turned toward you, and for the briefest, most treacherous moment, it felt real—your scent, your nearness, the way you looked at him like you could see straight through to his soul.

He leaned in, his breath catching as he inhaled the memory of you, his eyes fluttering shut in the desperate hope that he could hold on just a little longer. Just a little longer.

But deep down, he knew.

It wasn't real.

It never was.

The realization struck like a knife twisting in his chest, but he clung to the illusion all the same. He would take anything—anything—to feel you again, even if it was a cruel lie conjured by his own fractured mind.

To touch you. To kiss you. To lose himself in you, the only solace he had ever known.

Since your death, there had been no one else. No empty arms, no fleeting connections. He didn't want anyone else. Couldn't. It was always you. It would always be you.

"I know," you whispered, your hand brushing his cheek in a gesture so gentle, it nearly broke him. His breath hitched, a tear slipping free.

"Our love still remains," you said, your words a quiet promise in the suffocating silence.

And you were right.

Because no matter who tried to step into his life, none of them could ever compare to you.

Bruce's head bowed, his shoulders trembling as he pressed his forehead to the illusion of your hand.

He didn't speak, didn't dare. He let the hallucination linger, let it fill the gaping void inside him for as long as it would. When it faded—and it always did—the cold would return, and he would be alone once more.

They lingered in that fragile silence, heavy with the weight of unsaid words, the room echoing with everything neither could bear to voice.

At last, you broke it, your tone steady yet tender. "But you have to listen, Bruce. To the voices you hear. To what they're telling you."

His brow furrowed deeply, his eyes squeezing shut as if to block out everything but you. "There's too much to do," he whispered, his voice trembling, breaking under the strain. His breath hitched unevenly. "The kids... the city... it never stops."

When he finally opened his eyes, they met yours, glassy and filled with unshed tears. "I need to say goodbye," he confessed, his voice a raw whisper, hoarse and fractured.

He rubbed his face with trembling hands, weary to his bones. "I need to sleep... just for a little while."

Your hands cradled his face again, grounding him in the moment, as real to him as the warmth of the fire. "Then think, Bruce," you urged, your voice a mix of unwavering love and quiet strength. "Think about what I would tell you. About what you need to do."

A tear slipped down his cheek, his body trembling as he leaned into the phantom touch. He tried to form words, but they came out as fractured pieces of his anguish. "It's too much... I can't... I should've..."

His voice cracked and faltered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've protected you. I should've saved you."

"You don't need to apologize," you said softly, your voice cutting through his despair like a light in the dark. "I was never angry with you, Bruce. I never could be."

His chest clenched painfully, a fresh wave of tears spilling free. "But I failed you," he choked out, his voice barely audible.

"You didn't fail me," you replied, your words sharp yet soothing. "But you're failing yourself."

You moved in closer, kneeling in front of him, your hands lifting his face so his eyes met yours.

There was a love in your gaze that steadied him, but also something more—a heaviness, a truth he couldn't yet name. "This isn't the way, Bruce. I won't let you destroy yourself like this."

His grief overtook him, his entire frame trembling with the force of it. "I can't let go," he admitted, his voice breaking as fresh sobs racked his body. "Not of you. Not yet."

Your smile returned, soft and filled with sadness. "Then let go of the pain," you said gently. "Let go of the guilt. Let go of the past. I'm here, but I can't stay. Not like this. Not while you're lost in the dark."

His heart shattered again, the pieces cutting deeper, but he couldn't deny the truth in your words.

"Please," he whispered, his voice raw, pleading, desperate. "Please don't leave me. I can't do this alone."

But you were already slipping away, your warmth dissipating like smoke, fading from his grasp.

He reached out, his hands trembling, but there was nothing there—nothing to hold onto. The room grew colder, your presence vanishing into the shadows, leaving him alone in the silence.

The fire crackled softly, its flames flickering weakly against the oppressive darkness. The emptiness of the room settled over him, pressing down with a weight he couldn't bear.

"I'll never let go," he whispered, his voice fragile, a shattered promise he knew he could never keep.

But you were gone. And the silence consumed everything.

Bruce's hand lingered on his cheek, still warm from where you'd touched him, but it too began to cool, slipping away too quickly.

Long moments passed before his voice cracked through the stillness, breaking the silence like glass. "I'll think," he murmured into the void. "I promise."

Even as the words left his lips, they felt empty—hollow echoes in a room full of nothing. 

As hollow as the man who spoke them.

go check [ TU’BURNI (Bruce Wayne fic) ]

Little thing while I write the next chapters of TU’BURNI :)

I’ve been considering publishing one of my Tommy Shelby fics, so if anyone’s interested, please lmk.

[ahqkas]

the faint sound of childish giggles carried down the hall, like little chimes dancing on the breeze, pulling you toward your daughter’s room. her laughter always had a way of making the vast wayne manor feel alive, softening its towering walls and echoing halls. with careful steps, you approached the partially open door, peeking through the gap to see a sight so tender it made your heart squeeze.

inside, BRUCE WAYNE—the man known to the world as gotham’s brooding guardian—was seated on a tiny chair at a tea party table, his frame nearly comical in comparison to the delicate furniture around him. the tiny wooden chair creaked faintly under his weight, and his knees were bent awkwardly to fit beneath the table, but he didn’t seem to mind. across from him sat your little girl, her back straight, her head adorned with a glittery pink tiara that rested slightly crooked over her dark curls. her chubby hands clutched a porcelain teacup painted with tiny roses, a perfect match to the set laid before her.

bruce’s expression was one of quiet concentration, though his lips twitched with a trace of a smile as she poured “tea” into his cup from her plastic teapot.

“careful, daddy,” she instructed, her voice laced with the exaggerated seriousness of a hostess managing an important event. “it’s very hot.”

the man nodded solemnly, lifting the miniature cup delicately with two fingers, his every move deliberate as if this tea party were as crucial as a meeting in the batcave. “thank you, princess,” he replied in that low, smooth voice of his, though it softened into something warmer and sweeter. he brought the cup to his lips, pretending to take a slow sip. “hmm. the best tea i’ve ever had.”

your daughter beamed at his praise, her cheeks puffing with pride. “it’s chamomile,” she announced confidently, as though she had a mastery of teas far beyond her years.

“ah, chamomile,” bruce said with mock seriousness, setting the cup back down carefully. “you’ve outdone yourself this time. you might even be better at making tea than alfred.”

“better than alfie?” she gasped, eyes wide as saucers.

bruce leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “don’t tell him i said that. it’ll be our little secret.”

she giggled so hard she nearly tipped the teapot, her whole body trembling with delight.

from your position at the doorway, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling a warmth bloom there that was almost overwhelming. this was a side of bruce wayne that no one else got to see—the man who had battled his way through gotham’s darkness, who carried the weight of a city on his shoulders, sitting at a tea party and calling his daughter princess like it was the most natural thing in the world.

and to you, it was.

[redr0sewrites]

Can I request hcs for batboys experiencing the best blowjobs in their life from their s/o who is shy and has no experience in the sexual activities (like this is their first time doing and they were eager to please the boys)?

🥀A/n: YES!!!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!!!

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader

🥀Cw: smut, blowjob, dirty talk, praise, inexperienced/virgin!reader

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson :

he's more than a little cocky at first, cooing at you and treating you like a precious little angel. your inexperience and eagerness definitely turns him on a bit, and that makes him all the more susceptible to how skilled you are at giving him head

thinks it's cute how shy you are, and definitely wants you to be naked beneath him. he doesn't mind if you touch yourself while your pleasuring him, and thinks it's adorable how your eyes widen when you see how big he is

how is that going to fit in your mouth?

while he does tease and mock you just a liiiittle, Dick isn't an asshole

he talks you through it the entire time as he's gently pushing his cock into your mouth, praising you for taking him so well and brushing the tears from your eyes when you gag on his length

when you start sucking him off, Dick swears he's in heaven. he can't help but buck his hips and grind against your face, and it takes everything in him to restrain himself from grabbing a fistfull of your hair and fucking your throat

his head is tossed back and his thighs are twitching, he's mumbling out praises and unashamedly moaning your name like it's a prayer

if you tease him a bit like he did to you and edge him, he will cry and bitch and moan about it until you let him cum.

also, this man has STAMINA expect him to last a little while. if you end up getting too needy and start masturbating while sucking him off, Dick will instruct you on what to do, what pace you should set, and if you end up edging him, he'll make you edge yourself as well. i don't think he's a very strict dom often, but he is commanding when it comes to this. loooveesss when you moan around his cock, the vibrations make him even louder and he is not ashamed of screaming your name when he comes like a porn star. (literally everyone in a mile radius is traumatized)

for your first time, i dont think he'd make you swallow his cum, and it would take a little while until he asks to cum in your mouth. i do think he prefers if u swallow it though. and if you show him his cum in your mouth before swallowing? be prepared for at least 2 more rounds of him just eating you out cuz that turns him on SO QUICK. he prefers to cum in your mouth but won't for the first time out of fear that you think he's a weirdo (he is)

Jason Todd :

Jason is also big on praising you, especially when it comes to your first time sucking him off. he wants to make the experience as comfortable for you as possible and is adamant about having you tap out if anything makes you uncomfortable

thinks its hot when you kneel in front of him, he has a bit of a size kink and you in a smaller position turns him on more than he'd like to admit

makes you suck on his fingers before he lets you suck on his cock. he's a little bit mean and makes you spit on his dick as lube, there's something about how sloppy it is that makes him feral

holds your jaw while you take him in your mouth and coos the sweetest praises as you adjust to his size. Jason is quick to calm any anxieties you have about not being able to take him, and his hand doesn't leave your face the entire time you suck him off. whenever you gag or gasp around him, his thumb runs soothingly over your cheek and he pulls out ever so slightly

talks you through it at first, giving you firm instructions on how to please him.

"fuuck, yea doll, swirl your tongue jus' like that. see baby, you're a natural, practically made f'my cock.."

lots of soft grunts and groans with the occasional whine. he isn't as much of a talker as he begins to get close, but is still pretty vocal

prefers to pull out and cum on your chest, he definitely would not cum on your face but wouldn't mind cumming in your mouth. your chest is definitely his preference though, and he loves when you look up at him with big doe eyes as his release drips down your front

definitely returns the favor and makes you cum at least twice, and is also big on aftercare!!

Bruce Wayne :

listen, while Bruce is definitely into blowjobs, he gets off on your pleasure more than his own. he'll buy you one of those remote controlled vibrators to use on you while your sucking him off, and increases the vibrations when he's close so you both cum at the same time

very gentle with you. he doesn't want to make you gag or hurt you, and he keeps a cautious hand gently resting on the top of your head as you take him into your mouth

loooots of praise, especially when you moan around his cock from the vibrator

Bruce is very quiet during sex in general, but he's a little more vocal than usual when receiving head. he lets out soft sighs and groans of pleasure, mixed in with praises and affectionate whispers of your name

"yes, darling, just like that... so good f'me..."

his thighs twitch and shudder a looot when you suck him off, and his back arches ever so slightly <3 its a very pretty sight to see

while your first time would probably be in the safety and comfort of your bedroom, Bruce loves the intensity of semi-public sex. he definitely wants you to suck him off under his desk, the risk and thrill of being caught all the more prominent whenever footsteps are heard walking by his office doors

likes teasing you and edging you with the vibrator, he wants this to be a pleasurable experience for both of you but may tease you just a bit about cumming untouched

prefers to cum in your mouth, but he'll ask if it's okay before he does so. its a bit of a dirty secret, but he loves kissing you after you gave him head and tasting himself on your tongue. he isn't exactly possessive, but it arouses him more than he'd care to admit

very sweet with aftercare! he'll chuckle at you a bit if you complain about having a sore jaw, but otherwise treats you very well. he definitely always eats you out after you auck him off, even though you've already came. he also would be into experimenting with the remote control vibrator some more if your interested.... 😇

if this seems a teensy bit bad then im sorry, i wrote it while very sleep deprived 💀

ANYWAYS!!! HOPE U ENJOYED!!!! plsplsoslspslsps PLEASE send in jason todd asks this is not a drill

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.  

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do : 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing. 

And that it was utterly...evil. 

“It’s going to be FUN !” 

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family. 

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish. 

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.” 

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile. 

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point. 

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed. 

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”. 

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes. 

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise. 

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters : 

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”  

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby. 

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore). 

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl. 

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne. 

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children. 

That was happiness then, right ? 

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”). 

And that what’s made him particularly evil. 

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !). 

And he knew they were a little worried about him. 

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family. 

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad. 

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried. 

And Bruce knew. 

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan. 

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ? 

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise. 

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours. 

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves. 

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them). 

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit. 

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her. 

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it. 

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby. 

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family. 

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms. 

Evil. Your husband was downright evil. 

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW. 

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”. 

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself. 

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin. 

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing. 

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?! 

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation. 

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him. 

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them). 

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children. 

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated. 

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today. 

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird. 

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least. 

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ? 

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image. 

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy. 

Odd. 

Yet, sweet. 

Were they surprised ? Yes. 

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely. 

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too. 

Were they happy for him ? For sure. 

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to. 

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky. 

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!” 

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter. 

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her. 

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter. 

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards- 

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness. 

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most. 

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away. 

Damian. 

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously. 

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends. 

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her. 

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ? 

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family. 

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”. 

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice). 

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life. 

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking. 

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon). 

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them. 

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes. 

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.  

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly. 

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”. 

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes. 

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her. 

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course). 

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh. 

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together. 

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him. 

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman. 

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that. 

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to. 

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it. 

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA. 

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable. 

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ? 

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.” 

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people. 

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time. 

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest). 

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed. 

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him. 

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone. 

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents. 

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements. 

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted. 

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really. 

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to. 

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart. 

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too. 

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least). 

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions. 

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep. 

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too. 

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace. 

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little. 

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him. 

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ? 

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way. 

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and- 

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept. 

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel. 

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture. 

Seriously. That guy !! 

************

Batman smiling was...different. 

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad. 

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes. 

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say). 

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much. 

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine. 

It made them all feel...soft. And warm. 

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it. 

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love. 

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now- 

His family. 

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that. 

A loving man, who wanted to protect others. 

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all : 

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate. 

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons). 

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction. 

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower. 

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child. 

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy. 

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah. 

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world. 

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant- 

Oh it meant so much. 

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters. 

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious- 

All positive feelings. 

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them- 

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh. 

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness. 

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly. 

He knew. 

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again. 

He knew. 

He never loved like that before. 

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :). 

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ? 

[mostly-imagines]

Sugar on the Rim vol. I

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

warnings: implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), mentions of sex, smut in next part

You twist the stem of the wine glass around between your fingers slowly. Your chin rests atop your knees as you stare vacantly at the tiny puddle left of the drink. You could go refill it, but then you’d have to go back out to the main room and man…you really do not want to do that. So you’ll sit here, swiping your tongue across the bumps of the roof of your mouth as if it's a fascinating new discovery.

The creak of hinges has you shooting upright, your back thumping against the stair step behind you. You’re not immediately sure how to act as though it’s normal that you’re sitting in the stairwell outside the fundraiser rather than in it, fraternizing with old and new money alike. You freeze, trying to relax your posture so it doesn’t look like you’re alarmed at the sight of another person, but not so relaxed that you look as bored as you are.

Your neutrality stutters when you glance up to find the host of the fundraiser. The billionaire host of the fundraiser. Bruce Wayne, the billionaire host of the fundraiser. Your posture straightens right back up and your mouth snaps shut as you make eye contact.

Should you stand up? 

No, he’s rich, not royalty. 

You are in his house though—

He looks you over contemplatively, “I don’t know you,” It’s not accusatory, rather he says it like it’s something interesting.

You perk up at that, immediately formulating reasons to justify your presence. “Oh, uh, no—” the words nearly spill out of your mouth all at once. You clear your throat, “I’m just a plus one for my boss—”

“Who’s your boss?” he asks, relaxed. 

“Arthur Mullins.”

He looks to the side, squinting, “Mullins…he’s the executive at Williamson Industries, yes?”

You nod and he returns the gesture, slower, like he’s processing through something. “I’m Bruce,” he says warmly after a moment, holding his hand out to you.

You nod before you can even think to get any words to come out, “I—yeah, I know,” you accept his hand, shaking it as you tell him your name.

There’s a slight glint in his eye when he hears your name, and he repeats it quietly to himself. “A pretty name.”

“Oh, it’s just…” Just your name. But rather than fill him in on that fascinating tidbit, you let the sentence die off.

He smiles kindly anyway, “What are you doing in here? Party’s out there, or so they tell me.”

“I…I’m hiding in here,” you admit sheepishly.

He leans in towards you slightly, lowering his voice. “I’ll let you in on a secret—so am I,” he smiles at you like it’s easy.

Your grin matches his, “It’s your party,”

“That’s why I need to hide.” He tilts his head, “Doesn’t give you much of an excuse though, does it?”

“I don’t know anybody here.”

He puckers his bottom lip contemplatively, “Your boss.”

You shake your head, “I’m just his assistant. I’m pretty sure he just brought me as a precaution in case he needed a designated driver.”

He laughs at that, “Based on the way I’ve seen Mullins’ attempts to operate, his assistant would have to be a hell of a lot more important than just a designated driver.”

Well, he’s certainly right about that. Your boss doesn’t exactly “have it together” per se. He’s an unorganized man with little to justify his importance in Gotham, so he tends to insist on taking on more responsibility than he has any business having. Not to mention, he’s a bit of a try-hard and you’re constantly left to sweep up the pieces of his reputation that he shattered himself. Not to say he’s necessarily unprofessional, he just will do anything and everything to prove he belongs in any given space. It’s honestly a bit exhausting to watch. It’s more exhausting to try and convince him that the exchange went well afterwards.

You nod slowly, eyes on his shoes. “Mr. Mullins has…a unique approach to business. It does usually leave me fairly busy, I’ll give you that.” You take a quick deep breath, plastering on a fake smile. “But that means I occasionally get to go to fancy parties where I don’t know anyone, so..”

“Well then it sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,” he ribs, “Or don’t you agree?”

You smile coyly, “I would never be so bold.”

“I don’t mind boldness. For example, the reason I came in here is because he spotted me.”

You laugh at that, “Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Mr. Wayne,” you suppress your smile as you pause, choosing your words carefully. “I think he’s just networking.” He doesn’t have the money to give.

He nods surely, “He’s definitely just networking.” He really doesn’t have the money to give. You allow just the faintest wisp of a smile to adorn your face as you look down again.

You check the time and realize that you’ve been hiding away for too long and that if he hasn’t already, your boss will notice soon. You sigh quietly to yourself, “I should..”

He turns his head to the closed door where the chatter can be heard from beyond, sighing in defeat as he shakes his head looking back at you. “So should I.”

You feel a bit insecure as you stand, the gown you’re wearing is pretty but it is very much affordable and you’re sure someone as wealthy as Bruce Wayne would know the difference.

If he does notice he makes no deal of it, motioning you forward gallantly to walk ahead of him.

He follows after you, hands behind his back. “Would it be rude of me to ask you to distract him while I run for the bar?”

It’s busy, even for a Sunday afternoon, and you have to sidestep past someone nearly every step you take. You stick next to the windows of the line of boutiques down the road, trying to balance window shopping and not bumping into other pedestrians.

You're in a nicer district of Gotham, truthfully an area you don't quite belong in. So far you’ve only managed to find a couple shops that weren’t several ranges above your budget. 

A call of your name has you blinking rapidly and turning around as if you’re lost. It doesn’t take long for you to pick the six foot two billionaire out of the crowd and it’s only half a second longer before you realize he’s walking towards you. A few people collide shoulders with you as they move past thoughtlessly, no regard for the personal space of the idiot that stopped in the flow of traffic.

You let him approach a couple feet closer before you ask him, “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Wayne?” The presence of his figure in front of you allows for a break from being bumped into, as he seemingly makes for a far more easily seen and intentionally avoided target.

He sways a bit, “Bruce. I’m not sure yet,” he looks down to the couple of bags you’re holding, extending his hand out. “May I?”

It takes you just a moment to move past your surprise at the request, allowing him to hold them for you. “Are you in a rush?”

You shake your head quicker than you meant to, “No, I—not at all,” he gestures his head forward, allowing you to walk before him.

You traipse ahead in silence for a moment before deciding against biting your tongue, “What exactly is it you’re not sure about?”

He raises his voice a bit so you can hear him over the crowd, “Whether or not you’ve got plans on the 19th.”

You look back at him, “What’s on the 19th?”

He stops with you as you admire a set of jewelry inside a window display, “We’re hosting a gala for something or something else, hopefully less boring than the fundraiser.”

You blink, “You’re inviting me?” He nods. “Why?”

“I could use someone who wants to be there even less than I do.”

He said it so casually it takes you a second to even register his meaning. You blink, face contorting defensively, “That’s not—” you can barely make out the smile on his face as he continues on walking.

You shake your composure back together and trail after him, rushing to catch up. “I don’t think Mr. Mullins would be very happy to hear that I’m attending a business gala without him.”

He shakes his head as he scans over the crowd, “He can’t fire you for that.”

“He’ll try.” He would. A petty little man, he is. 

He scans across the rows of clothes leisurely. “Well, then he can speak to me about it. Besides, it wouldn’t be for business.” And then he just lets that sentence linger.

It takes you a moment to recover from those words and begin to start processing the world around you again. After a few more feet down the sidewalk he pulls you gently to the side by your lower arm, out of the rush of traffic, and looks at you dead on, “What do you think?”

You try not to waver under the weight of the eye contact, “I don’t…uh, I don’t really have…” you look down, hoping to get the message across without actually having to say the words.

He glances into the store window next to you and raises his eyebrows, “Well then I’d say we’re in the right place.”

You can’t manage to tell him that this store is definitely far too expensive for you, walking through the door as he opens it for you, albeit apprehensively.

Well. Up close window shopping is more fun anyways. 

The spotless white of the floors and walls has you intimidated, and just as much so by less by the no doubt designer clothes lining the walls. The saleswomen all look pretty highbrow themselves, hair up in tight buns and uniforms chic.

You only break from gawking at the store to look behind you at Bruce. You note the way his eyes roam around blindly, looking for something and clearly having no means to narrow down where it might be. You take one more glance around, immediately finding the women's section with no such difficulty. 

“This way.” You say, nodding your head over to the left. He recovers nicely and lets you lead the way towards the section of dresses. You peer back at him, “You don’t seem like someone that does much of his own shopping.”

Thankfully, he laughs at that. “Well, special occasions.”

You keep your gaze ahead this time, asking as casually as you can, “Is this a special occasion?”

He hums in consideration, “I’d say so.”

You stop upon approaching the dress section, taking in the immediately stunning display of options. 

“What are you doing up here anyways?” you ask, hand brushing across a particularly plush dress.

“Ah, I was headed to a meeting.”

“Oh,” you frown, looking at him. “Don’t you need to go?”

He shakes his head with a puckered lower lip, “No.”

A few seemingly heiresses roam down the aisle mindlessly, not caring much that you’re in their path. 

Bruce sees them before you do, knowing well that they were not going to excuse themselves. “Sweetheart,” he nudges you gently to the side, closer to him as the group passes. His hand remained open-palmed and flat as he guided you to the side, seemingly very careful not to touch you with uninvited boldness. Though you’re quite shaken by the chivalry of the gesture, a brazen touch wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world.

As your arm brushes against a rack of clothing your gaze follows, met with something rather appealing.

Bruce is quick to notice you admiring the sleek black dress that looks like something you’d see a model wearing on a runway. “You like that one?”

“It’s nice, yeah,” you murmur, not really thinking. You flip the price tag over and your face drops. “It’s $800.”

He nods thoughtfully, “We can find a nicer one,” he says, though it’s clear he knows exactly what your problem with the price tag was.

“I can’t—” you restart, “I would never have a reason to wear something this nice again.”

He shakes his head coolly, “That’s alright.”

Your shoulders drop and your head tilts seriously, “It’s not, though.”

“You like it?” He looks you in the eyes, his own searching for a truthful answer.

“I mean, of course, but it—”

He nods affirmatively, “Then we’ll get it. Problem solved.” He turns his back to the rack, casually observing the rest of the store goers. “Pick your size.”

Apparently not one to argue, you thumb through the row until you find one that should fit. 

You sigh, realizing that you’re running out of time to mention that you don’t have $800 to spend on a dress. “I can’t—”

“You don’t need to,” he says simply as he takes the dress off the rack and drapes it across his arm, making his way towards the salescounter.

You try to stop your mouth from hanging open as you follow, “It really is okay, I don’t need—”

His grin cuts you off, just in time for you to hear him mutter, “Sweet girl..” to himself. You stop right in your tracks, feeling very thankful that he’s not looking at you right now because you’re certain the look on your face would give you away.

He still doesn’t face you as he calls out, “Come on,” as he continues on.

Obviously you’re not stupid. You know what type of intentions a billionaire playboy must have with a younger girl that he doesn’t even really know. However, if said billionaire is offering to buy you a pretty dress…no, you’re not sleeping with him because he bought you a dress—of course not—and you’ve made absolutely no promises to do so, so what’s the harm in letting him? Really?

And yeah, maybe it’s a plus that he’s not bad looking, but how is that your fault?

You stand a bit awkwardly next to him as he puts his card in the machine, not even glancing at the outrageous number, and declines the offer for the receipt.

As you exit the store together and stand at the doors as he hands your original two bags back to you along with the new shiny black one that on its own looks like something people would pay for.

“You will be there?” he asks, eyes more hopeful than you were prepared for. 

You nod, gesturing the bag up, “Well you just bought me the dress.”

He shrugs that off, “I would’ve bought you the dress anyways.”

You linger in the midst of the ado wearing a dress that you feel far too overshadowed by, fidgeting with the half empty wine glass in your hand. Unfortunately, this time around you were invited by the host of the event and it would be extra rude to run away and hide. That doesn’t stop you from considering it, though.

A hand sliding across your lower back has you momentarily startled, and for reasons you couldn’t quite verbalize, you’d naturally assumed it was Bruce. The disappointment rings strong when you turn around to be met with the sight of an even older man, who looks considerably wine drunk. 

“Hello there, Miss.,” The words themselves are polite but the salacious smile on his face and the way his eyes have no trouble roaming your body gives you a solid idea of what this conversation is going to entail.

“Hello,” you fake a polite, tight smile and shift your attention to the rest of the room. 

This does nothing to deter him, as he takes a sizable step back into your line of sight. “Having a nice time?” 

The man is clearly from money, if his attire didn’t give it away his attitude sure did. There’s an heir of entitlement around him, like he’s inherently deservant of your attention—a quality you were notably surprised to not have found in Bruce. 

You give him your faux-smile again, this time tighter but half a second longer for the sake of politeness. A rookie mistake.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, gesturing to the bar.

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say, gesturing your wine glass up.

A momentary flash of irritation crosses his face, but to his credit, he does a better job recovering from it than you would have expected. Though, that’s not really saying much. “Well, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be all alone here,”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Both of your heads snap to the side, finding a much more welcome surprise than you’d previously received. 

Your counterpart's posture straightens immediately, “Mr. Wayne,” he fawns, “What a lovely event you’ve thrown. I’m sure the Bernsteins will be appreciative.”

Bruce hums, eyes narrowed slightly. “You are…”

The man startles and rushes to finish off his sentence, “Alexander Watson, senior executive to the accounting department for the research wing of the company.”

He nods slowly, no recognition actually present in his eyes. “Ah. The research wing of the company that just blew fifteen million dollars on prototype self-operating cell phones.”

You’re trying hard to fight the smile creeping up on your face.

“What exactly is a self-operating cell phone?”

Watson’s face drops, hurrying to justify his approval of the proposal’s funding. As he rambles, Bruce’s gaze lowers to where Watson has once again placed his hand on your hip, though he’s not close enough to you for it to rest fully or naturally. You don’t know him well but you can say confidently that he doesn’t look pleased. 

He looks back up to Watson, attitude challenging. “Surely you’re not poking around where you’re unwelcome?”

Watson stutters at that, blinking and shaking his head quickly. “No, no, of course not! I was just hoping to provide the young lady with some company. That’s all.”

“And so you have.”

“I—,” about two steps behind in this conversation, Watson finally decides to retreat, “Yes, good evening, Mr. Wayne.” He bows his head and shuffles away back into the crowd.

“Mr. Wayne,” you smile knowingly, turning to him. “How are you?”

The hardness of his gaze fades quickly as he takes in your appearance, quite liking how you wear the dress you’d picked out.

“Things are looking up,” he smiles, “You look lovely.”

 “Thank you,” you glance over to where Watson has made his way to the bar, likely about to down an entire glass. “Mr., uh, Mr. Watson makes quite the impression.”

His smile turns a bit sullen, “You know last year he tried to convince the board that battery-powered battery chargers were going to be the next big thing?”

You blink, tilting your head, “Thought you didn’t know who he was.”

His eyes are fixed on the wall as he tugs the corner of his lip down, knowing he’s been caught but not really caring. “I’m sorry to have been away for so long, it seems everyone needs my attention at these things.”

“At the gala that you threw? I’d imagine so.”

He rolls past that smoothly, “You’re having a good time?”

“I am,” you say with a confirming head bob.

He regards the room with a numb expression, “You know, I think I’m getting bored with all of this.”

You smile at him, brow furrowed, “It’s only been an hour.”

He looks at you, eyes wide. “It’s only been an hour?” He’s exaggerating his surprise to make you smile, and it works.

“I think we should go,” he says lower.

You stare at him, bemused. “You still have a whole room full of guests.” 

He shrugs, “They’ll filter out on their own eventually.” 

He clocks your hesitation easily, accurately noting it to be more out of politeness than actually wanting to stay at the party. “What, you’re not ready to leave?”

You look around at all the mostly old, posh guests, disinterested small talk evident all across the room. You take a breath, “Alright, yeah. Let’s go.”

He smiles and leads you out a side door and through a corridor that’s significantly longer than you’d expected. 

“Do you always ditch your parties this early?” you ask, following closely.

He makes a sharp right at the next doorway, “If I can manage it.”

You look around at the high wooden ceilings and grand furniture. “Aren’t some of them friends of yours?”

He shakes his head, “My friends aren’t here.”

You frown at that, “Then why do you throw them at all?”

“Why did you show up last weekend?”

You nod slowly, understanding. “It’s your job.”

He returns the nod, adding, “Only difference is, there’s not a chance in hell you get paid enough for the work you do for Mullins.”

For the sake of maintaining your wishful facade of professionalism, you’re going to not acknowledge that incredibly accurate statement. Instead you smile politely and continue on walking. He seems to get the implication, returning it with an even brighter adornment.

“Well, money’s money,” you say wryly.

His smile fades a bit, “You shouldn’t have to worry about things like that.” 

You shrug, “A day in the life,”

He looks sullen upon hearing that, with more sympathy than you’d have expected from someone of his stature. He’s done nothing if not surprise you, though.

“Here,” he says, taking hold of the handle of a glass door. It opens to a garden, lit up beautifully by the moon and outdoor light. A fountain sits in the middle, water rhythmically gushing out of the top and trickling down the sides. The bite of the Gotham night air burns at your cheeks a bit and you find yourself thankful the dress you’d chosen is so long.

Bruce leads the way to an expensive marble bench positioned nicely in front of it, allowing you to sit first before following suit. Your hands find a place in your lap, clasped together awkwardly in an attempt to find warmth through contact.

It takes Bruce less than ten seconds to stand, remove his suit jacket, and drape it over your shoulders before sitting back down. The material is thicker and warmer than you would’ve expected, surely reminiscent of the perks of being owned by a billionaire.

He doesn’t look at you to acknowledge the grateful expression on your face, simply carrying on like it didn’t happen. “Was hoping it was warmer,” he murmurs.

Your focus momentarily goes to the icy cold stone of the bench under your thighs, initially finding it uncomfortable before deciding the coolness actually felt quite soothing. You remove your gaze from the gray stone and turn your head to find Bruce already focused on you.

You start to say something, though you’re not sure what it would’ve been, when he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down.

Well, he certainly knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?

His eyes stay on your lower lip as he murmurs, “You’re a pretty girl, you know that?” 

God, he’s a professional.

You look up at him and refrain from saying anything, waiting to see if he follows it up with something that will make you regret agreeing to coming out here with him.

He doesn’t.

You shift, moving your hands off your lap to rest on the stone under you. “You can’t just do this—”

He smiles and lowers his chin to look you in the eyes, “Then what can I do for you?”

“You—” you blink rapidly, “Stop it.”

His coy beam persists, “Stop what?”

You raise your gaze up to him ever so slightly, a pouty expression across your face that you’re trying to sell as serious. “You’re trying to make me nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous?” He tilts his head down further, a ghost of a smile echoing on his lips, “I don’t mean to, sweet girl.”

Your eyes drop to the ground, biting your tongue. “Yeah.”

His simper grows, “I’m serious. I’d hate to scare away a new friend.”

You laugh at that and he perks up a bit at the sound, “What? We’re not friends?”

You cock your head to the side, “You’re the one who said none of your friends are here.”

He hums, “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“You think so?” You should probably stop flirting so much. 

“Yeah,” he leans in a bit closer, “I do.”

“Why’s that?”

“Maybe I want to be your friend,” his hand finds a place atop yours. 

Your eyes flicker across his face as he closes in, “What if I don’t want to be yours?”

His eyes are on your lips, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

You take a slow deep breath, “Your intentions are blurry.”

He smiles lightly, amused. “We’ll have to clear that up then, won’t we?” His lips are inches away and his voice is soft as he says, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

You look up at him eyes wide, barely processing his words as you nod. He gently grasps your jaw in his hand, tilting your head up. His other hand finds the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you with intention. Your hands hover in the air for a second before holding onto his forearms. 

He breaks the kiss only to give you another sweet one right after. Your mouths remain close when it’s over, eyes still shut, trying to catch your breath. You stay like that for a moment until he kisses you once more on your cheekbone before pulling away. His hands drop to rest on your knees, the weight of them gentle.

He hums lowly, “Sweet thing..”

Being under the heaviness of his gaze leaves you feeling vulnerable. It’s starting to get you concerned with the potential levity and implications of kissing him. The expectations.

“You…” you stare down at where his hands meet your skin, not quite sure that you actually meant to start that sentence. 

“What?” he frowns, brow pinched. Your chin lowers further as your mouth forms a tight line. He shakes his head, “No, it’s alright. What is it?” he asks gently.

It takes a surge of willpower for you to get the sentence out, “You just want to sleep with me..”

He frowns harder at that, pulling back a bit. “No. I’m…” he sighs, “I’m not trying to lure you in just to toss you out right after.”

That makes you look up again. His voice has a sincerity to it that you weren’t prepared for. 

He continues, “I would like to, yes. Yeah. You’re beautiful, of course I would, but..” he looks down at his hands before looking back up at you, “No, that’s not the most important thing to me.”

You break eye contact again, thinking over his words. If that’s not the most important thing to him, what is? You can’t think of what else he could possibly want from you, a billionaire who could have anything he wants..the only thing you could have to offer in his eyes is sex. 

Right?

He exhales, “If you want to leave, I’ll call you a car. No hard feelings.” He nudges your chin up gently so you’ll look at him, but he gives you the freedom to fight against it if you wanted to.

You let him move you.

“I don’t want to leave,” you tell him, looking into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you want,” he says it like it’s automatic. You physically can’t help but roll your eyes at the corniness of it. He doubles down, though, “Seriously. Anything.”

You smile in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Alright,” he returns your smile, straightening, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Do you need a ride home?”

You blink at him, “I’m going home?”

“You are,” he nods softly, “Do you need a ride?”

“No.”

He nods again, more like he’s working through something in his head. “Okay. You’re going to go home and think through what you want. If you decide you want to, come back here next Saturday.” he stands up, extending his hand out to you, “Then you can let me know what else you want and we can get to work on that too.”

You start to shake your head, “I can—” 

He drops his chin seriously, “Think on it.”

You relent easily, taking his hand and coming to a stand.

“Alright?” Again, his question is genuine. He does really want to know if you’re on board with this plan. 

Already going against his request, you agree without a thought, “Okay.”

He starts to lead you back over to the garden door with a head nod and a kind smile.

It ultimately was not a decision you had to think very hard on.

You’d considered every scenario of how this could play out and none of them ended with regret as far as you could guess.

You’ll still admit though, there was one scenario you had missed, apparently, which is why you were immeasurably confused when you showed up and he invited you to play chess.

He’s not wearing a fancy three piece suit this time, but his clothes are still very nice. With the sunlight peeking through the windows, you’re able to see the manor more clearly than you had been the other night. It really is a beautiful home, clearly very old and charmed, but there’s a lot of little details of character and history scattered around. There’s portraits and photographs of his parents from when he was young and furniture decorated with trinkets all throughout, kept absolutely spotless and dust free. Everything is neat and tidy but there’s still traces of the house being lived in with the patched throw pillows and worn carpets. Still, it’s very, very placid.

You’ve met new money plenty of times over the course of dealing with countless businessmen for Mr. Mullins but old money is something entirely different. You don’t really have a frame of reference here. New money is almost always brash and demanding, they like things done quickly and correctly the first time around. They’re usually not very interested in hearing what you have to say (even if it would save them a lot of trouble) and prefer it when the assistants women keep their mouths shut. Bruce has proven to be very different from these standards already and you’re not sure where to begin with placing new ones.

You’re about halfway through a second game, and while you’re not awful at chess, you get the impression that he’s easing up on you considerably.

You sit on the floor in front of a short coffee table, the game having no clear lead so far.

“I think this is stressing me,” you mumble, no actual weight behind your words.

“It’s just chess,” he says, not looking up from the board.

You watch him move his knight forward as you ask, “And that’s all we’re doing?”

“As it stands, yes,” he looks up at you, though you don’t return his gaze.

“Yeah,” you sigh, sliding your rook, “But later?”

“Later?”

“Well, you said...” you meet his eyes, “You said you wanted to sleep with me.”

He nods slowly, “I do. Is that alright?”

You consider it for a moment. You already knew that, if you really weren’t okay with it you wouldn’t have come here. And yeah, the idea makes you a little shaky, but in a good way.

“Yes,” you tell him, moving your queen forward two spaces.

“Are you sure?” he presses, moving to sit on the side of the table rather than behind it.

You do the same, sitting on your knees. “Yeah, I just..” you shift your weight, eyes wandering. “I’m not…overly experienced.”

He just smiles at that, like it’s endearing. Your words didn’t quite convey your meaning but your tone did. In any case, he understands the implication. “That’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not going to throw you in the deep end.”

You nod, looking down again.

“You’re nervous,” he comments.

“No, I’m—I mean, maybe,” your voice is barely a murmur by the end of the sentence.

He’s quiet for a moment, observing the way you fiddle with your rings. “What if we get you something pretty to wear? Something that makes you feel pretty. Whatever you want.”

He fishes his wallet out of his pocket, opening and pulling out a lump of cash without even looking. He holds the money out to you wordlessly and you can see from the bill on the outside that it’s at least a couple hundred dollars.

You shake your head instantly, “I can’t take that.”

He doesn’t put the money down but his eyes turn to begging. “Please. I just want you to feel good.”

“Bruce—”

He wavers a bit at that but it’s more of a falter than you’ve seen from him before so it’s easy to take notice of. “What?”

He shrugs barely, “I like when you say my name.”

Your eye contact holds for a moment and your resolve starts to shake almost instantly.

You exhale, “I’m not taking more than a hundred.”

“Two hundred.”

“Bruce.”

He smiles and picks out some of the cash and pockets it, handing you the rest. You don’t comment on the fact that it’s a hundred and fifty more than you’d agreed on.

You look down at the money in your hand like it’s a foreign object, shaking your head. “I don’t even know what to get.”

His thumbs start to rub reassuring circles by the bend of your knees, “Anything you want,” he tells you. “What do you like? Silk, lace, cotton, anything.”

You look up, tilting your head at him with a furrowed brow. “It doesn’t matter what I like, th—”

“It only matters what you like,” He says seriously, lowering himself to meet your gaze. “I’ll love it, no matter what you pick. Don’t worry about that.”

You lean forward a bit instinctually, “Okay.”

His eyes scan across your face in something that you can only recognize as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper.

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, voice even quieter.

Your eyes go to his mouth and you can only manage a nod, lips already parted.

He moves forward not a second later, kissing you with more fire than you’d gotten to see the other night. His hands grab at your waist, squeezing lightly as you hook one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

You hear the clatter of chess pieces falling over as he moves nearer to you, large frame leaning over you. You push up on your knees, meeting his lips up at his level. His hands caress around your hips as the kiss gets deeper.

You just start to fumble with the hem of his shirt when he takes your hands in his, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he smiles, nudging you back with little force.

You groan, “Why?”

He barks out a laugh at that, stroking your hips again. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on the floor.”

“Then let's go somewhere else,” you nod up towards the stairs.

He shakes his head, that soft smile still playing on his lips. “Not tonight.”

You sit back on your heels again, frowning.

He brushes your hair back, murmuring, “No. But for now, I'll kiss you ‘til you can’t think if that’s what you want.”

You really hope you didn’t perk up at that as much as you think you did.

part two

🌾🌽 i heard a rumor that if you like without reblogging your crops will be cursed but hey what do i know 🌾🌽

[alisonwritesimagines]

Count On Mom ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: The kids try to get Bruce to get away from the computer. Luckily, there is always one person who can take his mind out of anything including Batman duties. You.

Author’s Note: Haven't posted much in a while and I kept seeing a lot of Batfamily stuff at the last convention I went to so here we go!

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: boob flashing, hint to smut

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Three of the batkids stared at their adoptive father as he had been stuck in front of the screen in the Batcave. None of the moved as they watched Bruce in some kind of trance.

“How long since he moved?” Dick asked Cassandra and Jason.

“A day,” Cassandra monotonous answered.

“I think he blinked a minute ago, does that count?” Jason asked.

“It’s official. Alfred called it. He said he’ll bake cookies if we can get Bruce to stop working,” Duke said as he walked into the batcave.

"Step aside," Jason said as he cracked his knuckles. "This will be over in no time."

As the kids began to try to get Bruce to move away, no effort was made to moving Bruce.

"I got an idea," Dick said as he took out his phone.

You felt your phone ring, making you put the groceries down onto the kitchen island so you could answer your phone. You had just gone to the store to grab some ingredients to make dinner for tomorrow's dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom! Are you and Damien almost done with grocery shopping yet?”

“We just got home. Why?”

“We’re trying to pry Bruce off of the computer in the Batcave and Alfred said he’d make us cookies if we get him away from the screen.”

“I’m on my way,” you say with a chuckle at the end.

"Already began to bake the cookies. I know you'll be able to get him away," Alfred told you.

"Of course I can. That's my superpower in this family," you joked.

When you got to the Batcave, you saw your husband tiredly staring at the screen in front of him. The dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep made you upset but you knew there was one thing you could do that would always get his attention.

"Aw my poor husband," you say.

"You got this mom?" Jason asked you.

“Step aside kids and close your eyes,” you tell them as you walked over to your husband.

“What are you going to do mom?” Dick as as he covered his eyes. The rest of the kids quickly covered their eyes to avoid to see what you were going to do.

You climbed onto Bruce’s lap before lifting both your shirt and bra in front of him. Bruce quickly snapped out of his daze before looking up at you with a smile.

“Tempting me my love?”

“Maybe,” you smile as you pulled your shirt and bra down.

“Let me have my cookies and you can have me,” you whispered into his ears as you stood up.

“Okay kids. Enjoy Alfred’s cookies,” you say as you headed out.

The moment the kids uncovered their eyes, they watched in shock as Bruce already began to make his way towards you.

“Leave it to mom for getting Bruce to do anything other than his Batman duties,” Jason said.

"I wonder how she does it," Duke says out loud.

"Because dad's got it bad for mom," Dick tells him.

By the time Bruce got to you, you were eating your chocolate chip cookies that Alfred had made with Damien. You winked at your husband as you kissed Damien’s head.

“Alfred, why don’t you and the kids go out for a bit? It’s lovely outside,” you tell him.

“Of course,” Alfred said before walking over to get the rest of the kids. You began to head upstairs to your room, knowing that you had stirred something in Bruce.

“You coming Bruce?” You called out. You smirked as you heard Bruce’s fastened footsteps.

You let out a laugh as you felt him pick you up. You held onto him as he rushed over to the bedroom.

“I owe you some alone time don’t I?” Bruce asked you with a smile.

“Yes you do. Now, while everyone is out of the house, why don’t you make it up to me?” You asked him.

“I plan to," Bruce said before kissing you passionately.

[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.

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | age gap, reader is nineteen | mild exhibitionism | size difference | choking | objectification (f receiving)

BRUCE WAYNE was in the hot seat. Well, more appropriately, Batman was in the hot seat. Which meant it was time for the billionaire playboy to make a public appearance so controversial, any press worth their tacks would cover his televised blunder rather than some depressing masked vigilante’s dealings. People prefer gossip over politics, and Bruce knows how to work an angle.

You’re a fresh adult, but the people already know you. A perfect Gotham sweetheart: a little darling on the front cover of lingerie magazines, starring as a bombshell in motion pictures, named the honor of the Ice Princess last month. You wore your little feathery outfit, next to nothing in the freezing cold, and turned on the city's giant Christmas tree lights just as the Ice Princess does every year. Known for your youth and beauty, Bruce knew you were the perfect candidate to take all the attention away from where it shouldn't be. Tabloids couldn't decide whether to praise the seasoned billionaire for landing a nineteen-year-old catch, or condemn him for having a mid-life crisis.

"Bruce Wayne seen with Gotham's Ice Princess." was everywhere anyone looked. It seemed the city had taken quite a protective role over you, which is exactly what Bruce needed.

Now that he's got you, he flaunts you. He lets you lug him around town, any local events that could be televised are his priorities. There, he makes a big show of touching you in ways only a lover is allowed to. Things that make you pat his huge bicep scoldingly. "Brucie!" you chide with a gasp, "You're so shameless." you say, but you fucking love it. How he openly mouths at your neck, lapping and sucking on your pulse point enough for lewd pretty sounds to slew from your parted lips. Little whimpers that any onlookers eat up.

He'll grope you unabashedly, big hand grabbing at your ass or giving it a swat. He needs those cameras to see how gross he is, how crazy he is about his nineteen-year-old situationship. If you get kissed, it's fucking sloppy. Mostly tongue, tongue outside the mouth as much as he can appropriately get away with. His "dirty sense of humor" will bleed into the public scene as well, hugging you from behind only to jokingly engulf your neck with his hand to fake a choke.

Every single one of these things he does for attention, leaves you hot and bothered. Frustrated from his treatment of you that's so warm when there are prying eyes, but so cold when you're finally alone together. You want Bruce Wayne to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but when doors are closed suddenly it's: "Something's come up." or "The sushi hit me wrong." Or the worst one of all: the polite, civilized, but uninterested act. You're all over him, begging for him to finally fuck you after stringing you along and teasing you so ardently all day, and he treats you as if you are an acquainted business associate who has overstayed her welcome. You don't get it. An hour ago he was pulling your neckline towards him for a peek down your dress, and now he's showing you the door with a smile on his face.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨

TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming

(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)

Entrapment

A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?

~~~~

You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.

He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.

You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.

Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.

The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.

~~~~

The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.

Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.

Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.

Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?

It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.

It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.

“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.

“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?

No.

He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.

He just wouldn’t.

“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”

~~~~

Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?

Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.

It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.

In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.

But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.

Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.

~~~~

Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.

Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.

No more calculating.

No more cunning.

No more being methodic.

No more.

Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.

At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.

One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.

After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.

He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.

Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.

You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.

“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bruce’s cockblock revenge on Dick and Jason, except he did it by accident but I feel like he secretly would plan it out cuz that Brucie Wayne pettiness would get the best of him

Bruce is the king of pettiness.

His kids are petty in thanks to him!

That and nothing was off the table for Bruce either as when they go low, Bruce Wayne goes lower into the depths of hell just to get back at someone. Though without hurting them of course, he’s petty not a dickhead.

So after the stint where Jason and Dick cockblocked him, Bruce thought it was time to get back at his sons by any means necessary.

With Dick Bruce would wait until he heard the door close and the sounds of muffed giggles from the other side of the door before deciding it was showtime.

‘Dick where is your girlfriend- oh.’ He says in faux shock as his son rushed to cover himself. ‘This isn’t your girlfriend, did you break up with her because your aversion to commitment in a relationship?’ He then asks and he knew that he had ruined Dick’s night as the person he brought home rushed to get dressed, not wanting to deal with yet another man who feared commitment as they were making their leave, though not before thanking Bruce for the heads up though not before giving him a one over while doing so.

Bruce was quick to leave afterwards, knowing that the damage was done and he had done what he had came to do.

With Jason Bruce would enter his room as though it were an accident, loudly proclaiming to his son that he had procured the items that he wanted; cheap pink fuzzy handcuffs form the local sex shop.

The cheaper the better Bruce thought as he threw them at Jason, who loudly shouted that he didn’t ask for the pink fuzzy cuffs, face red with embarrassment. Bruce looks at him with a straight face and said ‘that doesn’t line up with the text you sent me last night.’ Before showing Jason the fake texts that Tim helped in creating in exchange for the times Jason took the piss out of him.

‘Oh and I almost forgot these too.’ Bruce then only adds salt into the wound when he throws Jason a pack of condoms from his pocket. After all what could be more embarrassing than your father giving you condoms just when you were about to get down and dirty? He knew he had totally ruined the mood for his son and left soon after, concealing a smirk upon his lips as he swiftly dodged a shoe being thrown his way.

[blackcupidangel]

Things Batmom has said:

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

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

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

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

“Stay safe, I love you”

“Eyes open, baby birds.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So…you’ve chosen to disobey me.”

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

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

“Do I look like booboo the fool?!”

“Brilliant.”

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

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

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

“Don’t tell your father.”

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

“I’m so very proud of you!”

“A girl’s gotta be prepared.”

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

“Way to go, Bruce.”

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

“Ahh…Motherhood.”

—————————————————————————

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

[girlkisser13]

being married to bruce wayne would include

• galas, charities, balls, etc. become more a part of your life than you probably ever wanted them to be.

• once you two officially become a couple, you become gotham’s "it" couple. whether you want to or not.

• in the press, the two of you are often depicted as gotham royalty.

• even before the two of you start dating, you swear you feel someone's presence at night whenever you walk home from work.

• it wasn't until a mugger attempted to steal your purse that you finally learned where that feeling of being watched had been coming from.

• when the dark knight told you to be mindful of your surroundings and to hurry home before swooping away into the night, you could only nod with widened eyes.

• you didn’t say anything until you got home, to be honest, you geeking out: it’s not every day that someone gets to meet "the batman".

• you gleefully call your boyfriend about it. he doesn’t answer it until later, but you can hear a smirk in his voice as he responds to you fangirling.

• eventually, you find out about his identity on accident.

• as expected, you’re a little upset. someone you were romantically involved with was masquerading around town dressed like every night was halloween, getting into dangerous situations.

• after the two of you talk about it, you begin to understand why he does it and while you may not necessarily agree with some of his more controversial methods, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’s putting everything at risk just to make sure what happened to him doesn’t happen to anyone else.

• alfred always reports to you first whenever something happens to bruce, knowing how much he truly means to you.

• you’re the one he listens to the most (even more than alfred) when it comes to what he should be doing whether it be a complicated mission or something as simple as eating a much needed meal.

• most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before he would text you that he can’t make it because he’s being held up.

• when he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. and you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.

• bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. he loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. he always finds a way to be close to you when you’re together.

• he’s always trying to make up for the lost time with you by getting you expensive gifts and trips, only for you to reassure him that he doesn’t need to do all this.

• you’re always able to tell when he’s had a particularly rough night. his usual silence feels different; heavier.

• he becomes a lot more handsy with you, more affectionate. as if you’re the last flower in a prized garden and he never noticed until now.

• if you’re asleep by the time he gets back, you may get woken up by him caressing your cheek, rubbing a thumb over your hand, or him putting his big arms around you to pull you in close.

• one of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. most of the time you see alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.

• whenever the bat kids are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them too.

• dick constantly flirts with you and teases you and bruce. you love to play along with him because it makes bruce very uncomfortable.

• he finally proposes to you after three years of the kids telling him to do so. you obviously say yes.

• the two of you decide to have a small, private ceremony at the manor. friends and family only.

• bruce 100% cries as soon as he sees you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.

• alfred volunteers to be the wedding planner, because he always knew that you would be the future mrs. wayne. <33

[meiluu]

Bats

Here's some thoughts about Bruce Wayne, my husband btw

cw: Major fluff

Just imagine being the wife of Bruce Wayne. Not the playboy, or the billionaire, not the philanthropist, but Bruce Wayne. A man who had to grow up at the young age of eight, and later on becoming a young man who spent his time traveling the world. Learning all he could, fighting, languages, anything. A man who sacrifices everything for the ones he loves, hoping that he can protect them from the world that seems hellbent on taking away all the people he holds dear.

Bruce is a man of few words, but each word that leaves those beautiful lips of his has a purpose. Those quiet moments when its just the two of you, cuddled in one of the plush couches in the Wayne manor library. The moonlight flittering in from the tall windows, the crackling of the lit fireplace is the only other noise that accompanies your whispered words of love. Wrapped in his protective embrace, a body that spends nearly every night defending and protecting the innocents of Gotham is here hugging you and gently massaging your back.

You bring a level of solace that Bruce didn't think he would ever have. Given how he accepted the fact that being Batman meant that he could never really have that. Then you came in. It wasn't some massive firework show or falling from the sky. You just... walked in like you were meant to be here all along. The patience, understanding and unwavering love you showed him time and time again had Bruce wondering where you had been all this time. You were so...You.

Bruce is the husband and lover who lets you kiss his countless amount of scars that litter his body that has been sculpted to fight and endure anything that comes its way. A body that held strength in every fiber of muscle and yet he turns to putty within your loving hands. Mind, body and soul, wholly yours.

Bruce had no idea of what he was missing when you weren't in his life and now that he has you, there is nothing on this planet or universe that would ever take you from him.

Bruce is someone who will die for You, and any one of the people he loves.

[redr0sewrites]

NNN Hcs with the Dc Batboys

🥀A/n: exactly what is sounds like‼️ i love writing no nut november hcs sm-

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader,

🥀Cw: smut, teasing, switch!reader, use of the term(s) prince/ss in Bruce's pt, dirty talk

🥀divider: @chachachannah <3

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson:

bringing up NNN to Dick definitely raises a brow- at first he's a little confused, you don't want to have sex for an entire month? who would ever want that?

once you explain it though, i think he'd be really into it. he's definitely a little pouty that he can't even masturbate, and would probably complain if you were abstaining from sex without telling him why. once you convince him to join you though, he starts taking it very seriously

Dick has a bit of a competitive streak, so i definitely think he's in it to "beat you". he's teasing you endlessly, trying to get you to give in before the month ends (and theres definitely a high chance of him outlasting you)

actually suuuuuch an unfair tease, like genuinely he's soo annoying throughout the month. you walk by him wearing shorts? he's kneading your ass and giving it an appreciative slap. you don't have a shirt on for any reason whatsoever? he's coming up behind you and groping your chest, whether you have boobs or not, and whispering filthy things in your ear.

he's also big on teasing you in your sleep- you can't tell me Dick wouldn't have the biggest somnophilia kink ever so he's absolutely trying to get you worked up while your asleep, in hopes of you waking up and giving in

i honestly see two outcomes: he either makes it to the end of the month, or he gives up about 3/4 through. i feel like Dick has a pretty high libido, but i also think he has really good self control and can resist temptation so there's definitely some internal conflict on his end.

it gets to a point where, at the end of the month, because his libido is so high and he's been untouched for so long, he's like tweaking out over every touch and is becoming veeerrryyy needy and sensitive. this is probably the time period where he's most likely to give in as he's just soooo sensitive and can't even touch himself to get off! you have a much higher chance of getting Dick to give in once he reaches this threshold, and if you play your cards right he'll be squirming.

if he does make it through the month, expect to be woken up at 12:01 on the first of december with Dick humping your thigh and whining in your ear. he's NOT in control right now, he's way too needy and sensitive, and he's definitely okay with letting you use him to get off- he needs to cum just as bad as you do

gives you the most AMAZING orgasms after waiting a month, he's mounting you like an incubus and rutting into you like his life depends on it until your both whimpering and overstimulated ♥️

he's probably gonna be a little mean too, considering you made him wait soooo long <\\3

"hnhah- ffuck." Dick's soft breath tickles your ear as he nips at the lobe, his hips rocking heavily against yours. "c'mon, baby, you can give me another, please.." his cock twitches against your tummy, tip sticky and wet from previous orgasms.

"Dickie, i just came-" you whine, yet your body betrays you as your hips roll up to meet his. he chuckles breathlessly against the soft column of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-soaked skin. "please, baby? jus' one more, f'me?" his tone is teasing, but you can tell he's desperate as you feel his cockhead twitch again. with a soft giggle, you nod, and Dick wastes no time in aligning himself with your hole. "you ready, hun?"

"mhm," you hum, and he slides in. your hole is already wet from previous orgasms, it had felt too good for Dick to not cum inside, and that only aided his sloppy thrusts as he rutted against you. your eyes flutter closed as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, and Dick ducks back down to whisper in your ear as your orgasm draws closer. "so pretty, s'good for me, made me wait so long for this... ffucck- y'gonna cum for me, honey? gonna take it all?"

Jason Todd:

Jason is honestly a wild card, i think it could go a multitude of ways honestly depending on how you feel

when you suggest the idea to him, i either see him being a tiny bit petty and lowkey deciding to fuck you every day of november OR take it as a challenge and being determined to make it through the month with no screw ups.

if it ends up being the latter, than i feel as though Jason has a higher chance of succeeding then losing. i don't think his sex drive is super high, and he's also pretty stubborn, HOWEVER, you are his weak point, and if you end up teasing him or begging him, i can picture him snapping and fucking you

either way, he's at least making it through half the month if not longer.

the only way you'll get him to give in is if your REALLY desperate, because he could never see you needy- so teasing him or pleading with him to fuck you is probably how you can get him to break

i also see him teasing you, but only subtly. he'll wear those low rise sweatpants he knows you like around the house, he's shirtless more often than not, and somehow his hands always seem to find place on your thighs... what lovely coincidences!

Jason struggles more with not fucking you than not being able to masturbate. i honestly don't think he does so very often, so it wouldn't be much of an issue, but not being able to fuck you? not even being able to give you head? drives him insane.

all in all, Jason cares more about your satisfaction than his own. could probably go the whole month without your interference, but is probably pent up by the end of the month

speaking of pent up, he's going to be insane at the end of the month because you made him wait. probably going to be more dominant than usual, BUT he's still really gentle and sweet because he knows your sensitive,,, so its a win!

the first time he cums after no nut november he swears he sees stars, probably praises you to the moon and back over how perfect you are

i think he'd wait until the next day to ravish you, he'd let you both get your sleep, but encourages you both to take the day off and spend the day in bed catching up on lost time. december first is going to be a LOVELY day for you,,,,

"s'that feel good, baby?"

"ffuck- yes Jay, fucking me so good-" you whine into the pillows, drool soaking the fabric as Jason pounds into you from behind. strong arms frame your form as he fucks you, his dick just perfectly touching your g spot/prostate with each thrust.

"aren't you- hnghh- glad you took the day off? relaxed a bit?" Jason huffed, his breath tickling your ear as he tightened his one handed grip on your ass. "y'should let me take care of you more often, especially after waiting so long..." he coos, and you let out a strangled moan as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten faster and faster.

"y'gonna cum for me, pretty?"

"y-es, please, Jay-"

"shh, s'ok, me too, we'll cum together, okay honey?" he soothes, rocking against you as the bed frame quakes.

"gonna fill you up so nice," he murmurs under his breath, white curls plastered to his sweat-slick forehead. "gonna make you cum for every day i couldnt..."

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce is making it through the month, no questions asked. it does not matter how deeply and truly he loves you, this man is IN IT TO WIN IT. he is absolutely making it through the month and will not budge i fear

theres a few nights where he's pent up and irritated after batman-ing and considers giving in, but he never does

when you first suggested NNN to him, he's probably a bit lukewarm to the idea, but whatever makes you happy 🤷 ngl he probably thought you were mad at him and this was a punishment or something at first😭

he honestly didn't think you'd end up actually going through with it, and if you end up giving in at some point in the month he'll definitely feign disappointment

"such a shame, i thought you were challenging me to this...game."

he's absolutely evil when it comes to teasing. he'll come up behind you and press gentle kisses on your neck, his large hands holding a firm grip on your waist, only to pull away with a practiced, professional smile as you begin to curl into his touch <\\3 he also plays up the Brucie Wayne persona, and is a lot more subtly seductive in an attempt to get you to break

keeping a firm hand on your lower back in public, giving you gifts (specifically lingerie, with a note attached that states, "for the end of the month"), and overall being a bit more possessive

when the month is over??? PREPARE. it's late, almost 2AM on december first, and the second he returns from patrolling he's finding you. doesn't even take the batsuit off, hell, he probably fucks you right there in the batcave, bent over the batcomputer. he's a little harsher than usual, and definitely more needy. he also tells you to take the day off, so he can.. spoil you for the entire day <3

let me just say, after so long of abstaining, he FUCKS, and he fucks you hard. you swear your seeing stars with each thrust, and he's genuinely insatiable. probably wants to breed you too... doesn't matter if you can get pregnant or not, he's fucking you full of his cum

the desk beneath you rattles with each thrust, and your thighs tremble as large, gloved hands find purchase on your soft skin. the rough, cold temperature of the leather provides delicious contrast to your lust-warmed skin, and you let out a wanton moan as Bruce thrusts heavy and deep inside.

"you like that, doll? like making me wait?" he practically growls in your ear, and you let out a stuttering moan.

"n-no, please, s'too much-"

"aw, poor thing. can't even take my cock... guess it has been a month after all, you'll need some time to get used to it i suppose." you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but just as you go to spit back a retort, he rolls his hips against your again. you shudder, clenching around him as his pace speeds up.

"so good f'me," he coos, almost cruel in his ministrations as he rubs harsh circles into the soft flesh of your thighs. Bruce's thrusts increase in pace, his tip rearranging your guts as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten.

"o-oh! 'm gonna-"

"fuuck, i know, prince/ss. cum for me," he whispers, moving one hand to the small of your back, pushing you down more firmly against the desk. "you can take it."