#bruce wayne imagines

[aangelinakii]

BATBOYS + SITTING ON THEIR BACK DURING PUSH-UPS.

note : personally i would love someone to push up w me on their back ,,, and also no damian just becquse i couldn't rhink of a scenario soz aloz

BRUCE WAYNE.

the kids had forced offered bruce a night off, after performing his nightly duties too many months in a row. now, sitting in bed with a book, you found it difficult to concentrate on the printed words as your partner lingered on the floor by his side of the bed, his quick breaths huffing through your shared bedroom. what on earth could he be doing? flipping the corner of your page down to save your place, you folded the book shut and put it down, rolling over the bed to peer over the side... only to find your wonderous bruce wayne... doing push ups?

"what are you doing?" you'd chuckled with a soft shake of your head.

muscles rippling beneath the flesh of his back, bruce brought his body down, and then pushed himself back up again, his triceps straining against skin. with a grunt he glanced back at you, never ceasing movement. "i need to get energy out before i go to bed. mind you, i'm not usually relaxing by this time."

another laugh brushed past your lips. "then that's not tiring you out." but bruce only sent you another glance, more sheepish this time; you couldn't blame him, not being accustomed to how one normally retires for the evening.

before he could reply again, you were slinging a leg over the side of the mattress and landing on the plush carpeting. bruce's exercise ceased in curiosity, his head turning to run his gaze over your legs. "oh, no, don't stop on my behalf," you grinned, carefully tucking one of your shins along his back and lowing the rest of your weight onto him.

but bruce wayne didn't falter a bit.

instead, he took it in his stride, tucking his arms and moving down, and then pushing up even faster than he'd been doing before. but he couldn't hide the crescent of his eyes and lines at the corners of his mouth as they turned up — he could do this all night.

DICK GRAYSON.

bullets of sweat shot to the floor with each punch, his flesh grunting against the boxing bag hanging from the ceiling. it never had the chance to swing too far, for he was already hitting it from the other side. although you weren't going as hard at it as your boyfriend, your own limbs were straining from exercise.

with a loud exhale, dick stepped away from the swinging sand bag, holding out a shaking hand to steady it. before it could stop, he was already moving to one of the ready-laid mats.

without a second too long of a break, he was down on his palms, moving up and down, his triceps tensing and bulging in his flesh. the way he kept glancing at you every few moments was making it very difficult to focus on your own workout.

ceasing your movements, you looked over at him with crossed arms. "anything i can help you with?" it was half a joke, expecting him to just grunt a chuckle and shake his head, getting caught red-handed checking you out. instead, he allowed a few seconds' silence, and then hummed.

"yes, actually." his voice was strained against his action, but he'd be damned if he stopped now just to speak. "come here, will you?"

it's not like you're busy or anything. but who were you to deny one dashingly handsome dick grayson your time and energy; especially when that's what you were dating him for.

unable to bite back a smile, you made your way over. "okay... what now?"

"sit on my back."

despite the tension in his throat as he spoke, dick didn't pause his push-ups — and you were supposed to sit on him like this? right...

however strange it may have been to try sit down on a moving man's back, the sheer fact dick could push-up your body weight made it worth it (no matter how many times you fell off before finally sticking it).

JASON TODD.

relaxing days — no work, no appointments, nothing to do — had to be the best days. especially here, as you and jason lay belly-down on the floor, using your glorious free time to complete a puzzle book you'd found at the grocery store the other day.

well... jason was belly-down on the floor; you were belly-down on his back, peering over his shoulder and pointing at the page, giving your contributions.

it got to the point where you were both on the last page, pen marks etched into the paper from where you'd scribbled answers and numbers and words, but you were stumped. with a huff, jason flicked the pen from his fingers, landing with a thump a metre away. "how are they gonna make puzzles you can't even solve? stupid..."

"hey, hey," you chuckled, bringing your fingers to scratch lovingly at his jaw. "i can get us a new one. want to go now?" as the words left your mouth, you moved one leg from where it lay entwined with his, preparing to get ready for an outing.

but jason was too quick, and too stubborn. before you could react, he'd pulled one arm from beneath him and lightly pressed down on your back, keeping you in place. "no, i'm joking," he mumbled. "please, let's just stay."

anything for him.

and so you fell limp against him once more, arms folding beneath your chin so you could rest your head, eyes fluttering closed. silence ran through the apartment, aside from the soft workings of jason's breathing beneath your ear; outside the city buzzed, but, by now, it was more background noise. perhaps a little nap wouldn't hurt—

something was moving beneath you, and your eyes shot open in alarm, arms shooting out from beneath you and clinging to the nearest thing – which happened to be around jason's waist. although you weren't moving, the coffee table beside you was bobbing up and down, and you couldn't possiblt fathom what was happning, until you realised...

"don't want to miss a workout," jason grunted from below, as if reading your mind. no lazy day was truly lazy when you had a jason peter todd to mind.

TIM DRAKE.

"i bet i could do that," tim spoke from the other end of the couch, where his socked feet were prodding your legs, probably in a surreptitious attempt to get them massaged. "no sweat."

you glanced between the tv and him, your lovely boyfriend tim, who would come up in the dictionary if you searched for the word overzealous. on the screen, playing the scene of a bizarre film you'd flipped to, the main love interest was working out when the main character stumbled into the room; there was some fleeting dialogue, and then, before you could find an explanation for it, she was sitting on his back as he continued his workout.

"what, you—" now when you looked over at tim, he had that wide grin on his face, and you knew you were in for something. "you want to try it now?"

without much of an answer, tim was rising to his feet, adjusting the waistband of the linen pyjama pants he wore, and fell to his hands and knees. "i mean, if you insist," he scoffed playfully. "try not to fall in love with me even more."

something about this didn't feel right... tim was certainly muscular, certainly strong — you'd seen him in action — but you didn't have much trust in him this time. regardless of your worries, you shimmied from your seat on the couch and carefully arranged yourself, legs crossed, on tim's back.

he only shook a bit at first, his legs now outstretched behind him, arms firm as logs. but he wasn't moving, just frozen in the plank position.

peering over his shoulder at him, you asked, "what's with the hold-up?"

pink in the cheeks, jaw clenched, tim's voice barely came out through his teeth. "yeah, just... wait—"

carefully – and very slowly – tim lowered himself, and in addition you, down, until his toned chest was millimetres away from the floor, and then, just as slowly, he pushed back against the ground.

once he was back in his starting position, he shifted beneath you, almost toppling you overboard. "okay, okay, i'm done!" he gasped. "my abs are gonna kill me!"

DUKE THOMAS.

being sick for the past week, you'd found it difficult to encourage yourself out of the house to go visit the gym — so, instead, you'd resorted to working out at home.

duke returned home the moment the sun began to dip below darkening clouds, his warmth radiating through the house as he closed the door behind him. he called something into the living room, but it went unheard beneath the instructions playing on the telly.

"oh, you working out?" he hummed as he entered, raking his eyes over your form and the synchronised movements on the tv screen.

mid-movement, you grunted a yeah, and duke edged around you to sit on the couch.

finally, when your break came, you collapsed to your mat and turned to him, grabbing your water bottle on the coffee table. "how was patrol?" you breathed.

the corners of duke's mouth turned up in a grin, clearly bemused by the sheen of sweat along your brow. "yeah, great." his eyes glanced over to the screen — two more minutes of your break, and it looked like you'd be attempting a five-minute plank. "mind if i work in with you?"

you glanced back, sipping at your water, and gave a half-chuckle. "i would've thought you'd be too tired for more exercise."

duke's bottom lip jutted out with a casual shrug. "i've missed you, we can do it together."

unfortunately, you couldn't ignore that little smile, that charm he held like a secret. and so you put your water bottle back on the table and duke joined you, beside your mat.

when the timer was up, you braced yourself for your plank, but duke, also on his knees, caught your attention — some stupid smile lingered on his lips, like he had a cheeky plan. "i don't know if a plank will be difficult enough for me."

"well done," you scoffed playfully. "just because it's easy for you, doesn't mean it's easy for me."

he held out a hand to diffuse any wrong ideas. "no, i just meant i think i know a way to break a sweat."

at this, you eyed him suspiciously, albeit curiously. before you could question him any further, he was on his palms and tip of his toes, gesturing you to sit on his back.

after a few "are you crazy?"s, you found yourself sitting on his back, trying not to touch him too much with your overly-warm limbs, lowering and raising with ease, your youtube workout by now forgotten.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason who’d make sure you ate and drink throughout the day but does it in the most nonchalant way, as though he had been doing it for ages, whether it’d be a greasy bag of junk food or something he made from scratch, all he’s going to leave you is with the stern command of ‘eat.’

He’s making sure you’re not skipping any important meals, and if you were then he was more likely to scold you while making you something to eat and drink. He’s confusing but he’s caring at the same time and had a unique way of showing it as you’d find from Roy.

‘He just wants you to be okay, he’s just rough with how he shows it but he means well.’ He’d say to you and from then on you’d watch as Jason’s eyes went from stern to concerned and how his posture completely changed into one that was eager to help you before it was too late, almost as though he was on a timer.

Even his stiff pats on your shoulder were oddly comforting and sweet coming from a man who didn’t think he was that hopeful and bright young man anymore, but he was, he very much was but he was just drastically altered to adapt to his new life.

Dick who will sit by you in silence when you least expect it, almost as though he knew you’d needed some comfort but not the talking aspect of it.

He’d stay close enough where you could feel his warmth, but keep a distance so you didn’t feel as though you were being suffocated by his presence.

He’s more then willing to listen to you speak about what you’ve been finding hard as of late and let you air out all your frustrations, not once offer any advice unless you asked for it and when you do it’s the most meaningful piece of advice you’ve ever been given. He’s been though a lot himself so he’s more then equipped to help you and would even offer you to a friendly spar to get the access aggression out.

Damian who’d secretly have a sketchbook dedicated to you that is filled to the brim with you doing the most mundane things possible, but he highlights you in such a way that it almost seemed as though he was romanticising your actions.

He never shows you it, not until you voice how you didn’t feel valued or loved or appreciated in the slightest and suddenly he’s expecting the most normal thing in his entire life; embarrassment incase you’d find him weird for having so many sketches of you.

He smiles when you smile and finds himself wanting to be more open with his emotions but only if it’s with you.

Bruce who’d always tends to your every injury himself, even if it was a tiny paper cut he’s treating it as though your finger was hanging on by a thread.

He’s had his fair share of injuries but they’re often more severe then the ones you get, but he treats them with the same level of seriousness, that you couldn’t help but smile at his furrowed brows as he tended to the small bruise on your upper arm.

He’s tender and calloused hands worked swiftly to preach you up and he would even give your plastered wound a healing kiss, claiming it would help speed up the healing process. He was sweet and doting with you and your minor injuries that he’s covering the corners of every countertop and table within your vicinity, and or helping you up from under things incase you’d hit your head.

[i-yap]

Fights between bruce and y/n

bro is so paranoid, he knows everything about you . Everything , and when u find out he extensively stalked you, it prolly didn't sit well. with tim he stalks cuz he loves you. bruce has really serious trust issues and he stalked you to make sure u wont uh lets say steal his sperm and train your kid in the league of shadows .

he sucks at communication . like he will not explain why he does what he does and struggles to talk. Especially in like aggressive confrontations , he'll just go silent and batman persona like . so once you both calm down and sit in a secluded but calm place all alone he will prolly explain his pov. just be gentle with this giant please

hates nonsensical activities, sorry but its facts. he will give you his card take your friends for shopping but bruce has to run a company and the justice league and ( his kids if its batdad au) whats the point of trailing behind you while you look through clothes like? he isn't into fashion, he thinks you look pretty in everything. you guys get to spend no quality time why not just spend those 2-3 hrs taking you out for dinner after ur done shopping?

doesn't really get how expensive gifts can make someone uncomfortable. he is sort of used to gold diggers or rich women. so when you refuse diamond necklace cuz it isn't even a special occasion wtf brucie, I cant just take that , he wont get it. He prolly wont stop either. Will for sure end the argument with" this necklace has now belonged to you and no other woman deserves to wear. so throw it out if you don't want it but I am not taking it "back to the store" or whatever that means"

he is so smart, sometimes forgets that everyone else is not. he thinks its cute when u get super confused but you feel dumb and it'll take a genuine conversation where he tells you that he thinks your the smartest, kindest and most interesting person he has met and IQ or hacking skills or whatever has nothing to do with it.

getting him to retire.

[ragingbookdragon]

Going Batty

BATDAD One-Shot!

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: None

Author's Note: For Batdad <3

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

He rubbed a hand across his face as he opened the door into the kitchen from the garage, calling out tiredly, “I’m home.” He set his keys on the rack and dropped his bag by the door, pulling his hand away in confusion when no one answered. The lights were out, not a sign of life in sight. “Anybody home?” he asked, walking towards the living room. Usually, a sign of life could be found in the form of two of his sons arguing over who got the TV remote so they could watch their shows.

No one was there either and he frowned before he shrugged, assuming that his husband and children had all gone on patrol. He turned and jumped a foot in the air, eyes widening in surprise when he saw Dick and Damian standing there dressed in suits and holding hand towels over their wrists.

He held a hand to his chest as he exhaled, feeling the adrenaline fading. “Jesus, you two scared the hell out of me.” His eyes scanned them, and his gaze narrowed as he asked suspiciously, “Why are you both in suits? Who died?”

Dick smiled and walked up to him. “Welcome home, dad. We have something special planned for you.”

Damian stood with his head up high. “Father, if you will follow us, please.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and he glanced at Dick who simply nodded; he shrugged and gestured for them to lead, and he walked behind them into the dining room where the main table had been moved out and a simple 3’ by 3’ sat in its place, an elegant tablecloth covering it. Candles stood next to their fine silverware, never taken out unless it was a family scene, and two crystal glasses stood next to each set of forks and knives.

Bruce stood by the table and Damian walked up and turned, facing his father following behind him. “Father, tonight, you and father dine in honor of your anniversary.”

Anniversary.

Their anniversary.

Their 25-year anniversary.

Crap.

It’d been so long since they’d celebrated an actual anniversary and not a staged one for the media that he’d completely forgotten about it. By Bruce’s subtle smile, he knew it too, but simply walked up and held out his hand.

He took it and Bruce asked, “Will you join me for dinner?”

“You didn’t cook, did you?” he teased softly with a smile and Bruce chuckled.

“Actually, Jason took leisure of cooking duties tonight.” He led his husband to the table and pulled out his chair before sitting in his own.

Dick poured some wine into their glasses. “Here we have a Label of Leroy Musigny Grand Cru, from Cote de Nuits, France. A savory and classic red.”

The two men swirled their wines in their glasses, and he inhaled the fragrance before trying a sip; he nodded impressed and looked at Dick. “Thank you, son.”

Dick smiled as Jason walked in, and he couldn’t suppress the laugh that left him as he saw his second son in a chef’s outfit complete with a chef’s hat. Jason held a tray in his hand and began placing their dishes down.

“No appetizers because appetizers are lame, and you won’t have room for dessert, and I worked too hard on it to not have it eaten tonight.” He set the plates down. “I’ve prepared duck confit to go with the red wine, along with roasted vegetables consisting of corn, asparagus, and potatoes, as well as white rice.”

He nodded, again impressed at the sight and planning. “It looks delicious, son.”

Jason puffed his chest out. “It is delicious. I made it.”

“Thank you,” he said with a gentle smile, then looked around. “Where’s Tim?”

“I’m over here!” Tim popped his head up from the corner of the room. “I’m finishing up the sound system.” As soon as he finished, soft, instrumental music began playing and the four boys stood together and took a quick bow.

Jason set a small bell on the table beside Bruce. “Ring when you guys are ready for dessert.”

They scurried out and he smiled, looking at Bruce. “You didn’t have to do all of this, Bruce.”

“I wanted to do something special for you,” he answered, reaching across the table to take his husband’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles and the golden band. “You’ve taken care of me for so many years, put up with so much nonsense, all our kids. Any lesser man would’ve run for the hills…or ended up in Arkham.”

He snorted and turned his hand up, holding Bruce’s. “From going batty?”

“I was thinking clinically insane, but batty works too.” Bruce pulled his hand away and lifted his glass of wine. “To us. Twenty-five years and counting.”

He lightly tapped his glass to Bruce’s. “To us, and hopeful for many more years to come.”

As they began to eat, they drifted into conversation about their life together, how it came to be, meeting, marrying, taking in Dick as a ward, and everything that followed after. Laughter and a few tears were shed but a general feeling of love settled around them as they kept talking about their life. When Jason dropped off dessert, a fresh peach cobbler with homemade vanilla bean ice-cream, the two were tipsy and smiling easily. With dessert eaten, they managed to get to their feet and come around the table, taking each other in their arms as they swayed to the soft piano coming from the speakers.

He rested his temple against Bruce’s shoulder, feeling the man wrap his arms around him securely. “Bruce?”

“Hmm?” his husband hummed, eyes closed as he rested his chin against the man’s temple.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love again?”

“I don’t have to think. I know. I fall in love with you every morning I wake up next to you.” Bruce squeezed him. “Every night I close my eyes knowing you’re next to me.”

He breathed deeply, sinking deeper into his husband’s arms. “You sure know how to make a man feel special, Bruce Wayne.”

“Only man that matters,” he replied, kissing his husband’s forehead. “Only one that ever will.”

“Happy Anniversary, Mister Wayne.”

“And a Happy Anniversary to you, Mister Wayne,” Bruce said, leaning down to kiss his husband when,

“Psst! Dad!” The two pulled back and looked up, seeing Tim standing in the doorway. “Dad!”

“Which dad?” he asked. “We’re both dad.”

Tim rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You dad, not him dad.”

“That technically doesn’t clarify which dad you’re referring to,” Bruce replied.

“Batdad.”

“Still both dads,” he said with a wince, then he pointed to himself. “Me dad?”

“YES! YOU DAD!” Tim cried in exasperation.

“What, son?” he laughed.

“Can we watch the Saw series?”

“No.”

“But why?” Tim whined.

“Because one of you is going to get wigged out and end up sleeping in our bed.”

“We see worse on patrol,” Jason said, sticking his head atop Tim’s, then he lifted his hand. “I’ve technically done worse.”

Dick stuck his head around Jason’s arm. “He has. I’ve seen it.”

“Can’t you guys watch a Disney movie or something?” he said with a sigh.

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?” Tim begged, clasping his hands in front of him. “None of us will get scared, promise.”

He looked at Bruce who simply shrugged and he sighed. “Fine. But no one better not show up at midnight.”

***

The door cracked open, and he lifted his head, blinking blearily at the thirteen- and eighteen-year-olds standing in his doorway.

“Father…” Damian started, and he sighed exasperated.

“Come on,” he said, opening the covers.

The two crawled in, Damian on Bruce’s side, Tim on his, and he laid back down, closing his eyes.

“I told you boys not to watch Saw.”

A few moments later, the door opened again; Dick and Jason stood there with their pillows in hand.

“Dad…”

[msfantasy-comics]

The Perfect Match

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: A head cannon on how you’re the perfect match for Bruce.

Warning: Established relationships

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Bruce had always considered the concept of a perfect match to be a feeble notion. The idea that a someone could be perfect and perfectly compliment one’s self was simply illogical and just not possible.

But that’s the thing about hypotheticals, they’re just theories until proven otherwise. Bruce can distinguish five instances on when he recognised you to be his perfect match.

Intelligence:

You weren’t a genius capable of rattling off theories and solving impossible equations. Not by any means. You were, however, incredibly intelligent when it comes to people and making them feel important.

It wasn’t a super power or psychological trickery. It was that you listened to people and ask them questions about their hobbies or family.

It was the way that you leaned in as if you were keen to hear what that person had to say.

It was the way you smile softly when people start to babble off in excitement as you reciprocate the conversation

Whilst you didn’t fully comprehend quantum physics or the engineering to Bruce Wayne’s degree

You sat there happily indulging Bruce as he discusses a new equation he solved

It was the way you made him feel like he could talk about anything without judgement or without your eyes wondering elsewhere in boredom.

Bruce: “Anyway, you probably have more important things to do.”

Y/n: “Don’t be silly. You’re just as important. Go on, finish what you were saying.”

Independence:

Bruce dreaded needy women who are utterly incapable of being self-sufficient. Who required rescuing and constant entertainment like a puppy.

Bruce: “I have an emergency work trip for an unspecified amount of time. I probably won’t be able to contact you too much. Will you be okay without me?”

Y/n *acting like a damsel in distress*

Y/n: “Oh no! I’m being abandoned in the biggest mansion with a butler, a library and a black Amex card. What could one do with one’s self? What a travesty!”

Bruce would return from his two week trip excited to see you again after not being in contact the whole time.

Only you weren’t at the mansion at 4pm on a Tuesday.

Bruce *calling your phone*

Y/n: “Hi honey! I missed you so much!”

Bruce: “Come home and show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Y/n: “What? I finish work in an hour, surely you can survive 60 more minutes without me- oh I have to go, I’ll see you soon my love!”

Supportive:

Bruce didn’t make it to your anniversary dinner.

He didn’t even have a chance to call you and cancel.

He exited the bat cave feeling utterly guilty for abandoning you on such an important occasion.

Bruce felt utterly defeated. A failure of a father. Batman got into a one on one fist fight with Red-Hood, attempting to save the Jokers life, only for his son to forsake himself. Now he had to face his failures as a husband.

Opening the door he sees you laying in bed, scrolling away at your phone.

As soon as you noticed him you tossed the phone and made a mad dash, pulling him into a bear hug.

Y/n: “Honey, I’m so proud of you. Being there when your son needed you most. You’re such a good man. Don’t be hard on yourself, remember that Jason is a grown man who made his decision.”

Pulling Bruce to bed, you pull him into a tight hold and continue to comfort him.

Bruce really appreciated that you didn’t bring up his absence.

Bruce: “I missed our -“

Y/n: “You didn’t miss anything. Your with me now aren’t you? Happy anniversary my beloved.”

Emotionally Stable:

Damian was over your nagging.

Y/n: “Damian, you need to get more sleep. I’m worried your burning yourself out.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you had a proper meal? You can’t survive off burgers alone you know.”

Y/n: “When was the last time you saw Jon? You have to maintain your friendships or else they fall apart.”

Y/n: “Stop having these energy drinks! It’s basically poison for your body - have you had any water today? You look dehydrated!”

You snatched the can out of his hand and threw it in the bin.

Damian lost his absolute shit.

Damian: “Enough with your incessant criticism!You’re getting on my nerves!”

Crosses his arms over his chest and looks off in irritation.

Bruce stands frowning behind him, ready to give his son the scolding of a life time.

But instead your laughter booms across the bat cave.

You find Damian’s little outburst amusing and adorable rather than rude and hurtful.

Y/n: “You’re right D, I’m sorry, I’ll lay off you a bit.”

You’d pull him into that tight hug he says he hates but he always leans into your comforting hold.

Y/n: “You boys be careful tonight, I’ll see you both in the morning”

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Behind Closed Doors (mafia!bruce wayne)

Summary: unbeknownst to you, you become friends with the city's famous mobster.

WC: 1,3K

Warnings: fluff,angst, bruce is a mafia leader AU

Read on Ao3!

Clint Barton Version Here!

--

The dim lights of the bar flickered slightly as the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded you. The city was alive, but you were still an outsider—new in town, not yet used to the rhythm of things. You had hoped for a quiet night, a drink to wind down from the overwhelming chaos of moving to a new city.

That’s when you first saw him.

A man in a tailored suit, dark hair combed back effortlessly. His presence was magnetic, like something about him demanded attention without trying. He wasn’t loud or boisterous, but his calm demeanor stood out in the crowd. And when his dark eyes landed on yours from across the room, you felt the pull—almost as if he had already decided you were worth his time.

He stood and approached you with a smooth stride, a slight, charming smile playing on his lips. “Mind if I join you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but something in his gaze made you hesitate just long enough to give a nod. "Sure."

He slid into the seat next to you, the bartender already setting down a drink in front of him as if he were a regular. "Bruce Wayne," he said, offering a hand. His voice was smooth, controlled, like he was used to getting what he wanted.

"Y/N" you replied, shaking his hand. The touch was firm, but you noticed the way his hand lingered a little longer than necessary, almost as if he was savoring the moment. “I’m new in town.”

“I gathered that. Not many people in here don’t know how to blend in.” His smile turned a little teasing. “What brings you to Gotham?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off as casual. “Just needed a change of scenery, I guess. The usual story. New job, new city, new start.”

“New start, huh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I can relate."

There was something cryptic in his words, and for a moment, the conversation faltered as you tried to read him. But then, he shifted the focus back to you, asking about your new life in Gotham and how you were adjusting. His charm was effortless, his attention focused entirely on you, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself laughing and talking about everything from mundane details about your job to the oddities of living in a city like Gotham.

By the end of the night, you were exchanging numbers, your curiosity piqued by his mysterious air, but also by how strangely comfortable you felt around him. Something told you there was more to Bruce Wayne than met the eye, but for now, you were content to just go along with it.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of coffee dates and casual conversations. Every time you met, it felt like you were peeling back another layer of him, but it was slow, almost too slow. Bruce always seemed interested in you—truly interested—but there was a distance in his eyes, a guardedness that made it impossible to get too close.

And then there were the disappearances.

You’d be sitting at a café, enjoying a warm drink, and Bruce would be there, his attention on you, his voice a calm presence in the noise of the world. But then, just as the conversation would begin to dip into something deeper, his phone would ring. His expression would change in an instant—controlled but sharp—and he’d apologize, excusing himself to take the call in a more private area.

You didn’t think much of it at first. Work. That was all he ever said. But the more times it happened, the more it felt like an excuse. And then you started to wonder: was he really that busy? Or was there something else going on?

One evening, after yet another brief and unexplained disappearance, you found yourself sitting alone at a table, swirling the coffee in your mug absentmindedly, thoughts racing. A small part of you had been entertained by his mystery, but now, it was starting to bother you. He’d been so elusive, almost like he was keeping something from you. And when he disappeared on the phone, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was another woman involved. Maybe that was why he was always so distant when you weren’t with him. Maybe the phone calls were just him checking in with his girlfriend.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, but they clung to you, nagging at the back of your mind.

It wasn’t until a few days later that your suspicions were confirmed—but not in the way you expected.

You were walking through the city, lost in your thoughts when you spotted Bruce across the street, standing outside a sleek black car. You froze. He was talking to someone—no, giving orders. The man he was speaking to nodded respectfully before walking away, and you could see Bruce’s posture shift just slightly, a certain authority in his stance.

That was when you saw it.

The man had passed by a neon sign on the corner—an inconspicuous one, but you caught a glimpse of the symbol on his jacket. A logo you recognized. One that wasn’t just associated with business deals or high society parties, but something far darker.

You weren’t sure what exactly you were seeing, but you knew one thing: this wasn’t just a businessman you’d been having coffee with. Bruce Wayne wasn’t just charming and mysterious—he was dangerous.

A mob boss. It made sense now, all the late-night calls, the secretive exits, the way people in Gotham seemed to give him a certain level of respect.

But before you could process the full weight of the realization, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned quickly, only to find Bruce standing right behind you, his face unreadable.

“I thought I might find you here,” he said smoothly, his tone even and calm, though there was an edge to it now. “You’ve been thinking about me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to swallow the shock creeping up your throat. “I... I didn’t expect this.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “I guess I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, unable to stop the words from spilling out. “Were you hiding something from me, Bruce? Or... was there someone else?”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “There’s no one else, Y/N. But there are things about me... things I can’t share easily.” He stepped closer, his voice low, almost like a warning. “I didn’t want you to get mixed up in it.”

Your stomach twisted with a mix of confusion and anger. “Mixed up in what? What are you really doing, Bruce?”

He hesitated, but then, his hand moved to your cheek, his touch tender. “I’m doing what I have to do to protect this city. And anyone who gets close to me—who gets too close—becomes a part of that. You need to understand that.”

You looked up at him, a chill running through you. “So this—us—wasn’t real?”

Bruce’s gaze softened, a brief flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “It was real. But my world is... complicated. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out this way. But I won’t lie to you, Y/N. This is my life. And if you want to stay in it, you need to accept what that means.”

Your heart raced as you tried to piece it all together—the man you thought you knew, the mystery, the lies. But no matter how much you wanted to run, something about him held you in place, anchored by the truth in his eyes.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you whispered, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

Bruce’s expression darkened, his thumb brushing over your cheek before he spoke again. “You’ll figure it out. But just know—no one ever walks away from me once they’ve seen the truth. And that includes you.”

[urfavslytherclawgirl]

I cared...

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Angst, swearing, crying, guilt, verbal fight, more than one POV, happy ending.

Summary: Bruce decides he will start dating you just to get information about your family, which is part of the Gotham Mafia, but what happens when he catches feelings for you? Or when you find out about all this?

"We need information on the Falcone family," Dick told Bruce while they were in the car heading to the annual Gotham party, it was amazing for people like Bruce and Dick, vigilantes.

The Falcone family needed to get what they deserved, to be put in jail for all the crimes they committed.

"And how do you want to do that?'' Bruce asked genuinely confused, Wayne Enterprises could get involved with Falcone and his wild business, they were friends after all, but it would be risky and obvious.

"We'll see. I'll take care of it Bruce, don't worry." Dick said as they stopped in front of the hotel where the party was happening.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne and Mr. Grayson." The host acknowledged the two as they got in with smiles. The party was full of people, with warm lighting and soft music playing, waiters walking from one end to the other giving out beverages and chatting everywhere.

"There's Falcone," Dick whispered as he got a glass of champagne, "and one of his daughters. Oh--maybe we can see if she lets out something. She is your age, or maybe two years younger but still. Give it a try" Dick suggested while looking toward the girl wearing an expensive dress.

"I can't just go there and ask her if her father kills people or not." Bruce ironically remarked while looking around smiling as people greeted him.

"Not like that, charm her...you can try to ask her out on a date. You're Bruce Wayne, who would deny it?" Dick ended the conversation by going away leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

He could at least try. If he noticed it wasn't working he'd just end things with her, simple

But it did work, it worked too well for him to even remember what the hell he was doing, he talked to you at the party smoothly asking you out on a date, and that date was perfect, different from any other date he had ever had, while other women would ask him about his 'extraordinary' life you asked him what his favorite book was, or when he'd say that something didn't work out for him instead of receiving a ''How! You're Bruce Wayne!'', he'd get advice or you'd help him through it.

You were...the most caring person he had ever met, and it hurt him every day to do what he was doing to you, but he was too engrossed to even try to stop it and when he did he'd just end up admiring you even more.

But he was going to do it now, he'd end whatever the two of you were having today, he was sure of it.

He had invited you to watch a movie in the screen room at his house and he'd find a way to end it.

"I'm going to get more popcorn for us. Not too much salt and definitely no butter, I know you, Bruce." You smiled and left the room with the empty popcorn bucket. This weird feeling formed in his stomach, maybe it was the anxiety of it all. All of a sudden warm arms hugged him from behind putting the popcorn on the seat next to him, he automatically kissed your cheek making you smile

You sat back down as Bruce looked at you with drunken eyes, he took your hand that was in your lap and kissed the back of it.

He was going to do it.

"You make me really happy."

He was going to do it.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

He--

The two of you were now kissing passionately.

-

You were looking for Bruce in the middle of another party Gotham was hosting, with yet again many people making it even harder for you to find Bruce.

"Bruce!" You called out as you noticed he was walking towards an exit with a dark-haired young man, you walked through the crowd of people and finally made it to the exit.

"Bru--"

"Did you really not get anything, Bruce, we needed that information. Come on, you've been dating that girl for at least a month and she hasn't told you anything we can use against Carmine?"

Information? Use against my dad?

"What?" You whispered making the two look at you as Bruce's eyes widened, you scoffed and started walking away.

"Wait! Please, wait!" Bruce called out walking towards you, you stopped and turned around in anger.

"Where you using me, Bruce? I thought you cared and were genuinely interested in me! Was this shit all a lie?!" Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you tried to resist the urge.

"Please let me explain--" But you didn't even let him finish, "Explain what, huh? How I was dumb enough to believe all the things that came out of your mouth? Or how I was stupid for even thinking you cared? Because I did! I cared about you and us, so much..." He looked at you with guilt in his eyes, he stepped forward then took a few more steps when he noticed you didn't step away.

"Please believe me now, I do care about you, and it was all true, all my emotions and all the things I said, all true. I made shitty decisions but none of it was fake." Bruce put his hand on your cheek , you looked at him for fe seconds, thinking.

You slowly put your hand on top of his hand that was resting on your cheek and pulled it away, toward his chest, pressing it there.

"Find someone else." You said turning around and walking away.

My dear

Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I was a child and an idiot, but you have to know that I meant everything and you were one of the only people who treated me like a human, and I'll always be extremely thankful for that.

I care so much about you and I will never forgive myself for how much I hurt you, you might not even read this letter but I'm still giving it a try, for you, I'd always try.

You were right, I did lie, but only for the first minutes after that every emotion I felt was real, you are the most beautiful person I've ever met and I do care about you, in fact I love you.

Just know that you will always have a place in my heart and that I'll always be here in case you need me.

Bruce Wayne

You read the letter that was sent to your office, and after reading it front to back you left work immediately, got into your car and raced through Gotham.

As you stopped in front of Wayne Manor you didn't know what to do, so you started with the basic going to the door and ringing the door bell.

"Nice seeing you again, I wasn't aware Master Bruce was getting a visit, please come in." Alfred said after opening the front door.

"Master Bruce is in his studies." He whispered before leaving you alone, you sighed and started walking.

"Alfred I'm busy, for the last time I don't want tea." Bruce said as you opened the door, he was writing another letter with his hands between his head thinking in what to write.

"I'm not here for tea." You answered closing the door and walking towards his desk, he immediately looked at you with maybe hope or something else in his eyes.

"I got your letter," You said walking towards a bookshelf full of old books.

"What you did, was hurtful, but I get it, my father isn't the best man in the world. I love you too." Your voice was almost like a whisper as you turned your head towards him.

"I don't know if you meant it or not when you wrote it in your letter but it's fair for you to know." As your body fully turned towards Bruce you gasped bumping into Bruce, who had swiftly gotten up from his chair.

"I love you, and I promise you I won't ever lie to you again. Never." He said hugging your body while kissing you.

"Okay, I got it, no need for these many emotions. Keep up with your emotionless reputation." The two of you laughed.

[ktficworld]

"You want a last minute dancer and I want to gate crash Wayne's party. We have a deal."

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine accidentally inhaling pheromones, making you unable to hide your feelings for Bruce Wayne.

A strange smell wafted through the laboratory. You couldn’t place what it was, but you could put a finger on the things that it was making you feel. “Oh no,” I said, looking around for who could have been the culprit of such an attack. The Joker? No, this wasn’t funny enough, he’d blow the place up. Scarecrow? He was more into fear gas, not ... whatever this was. Poison Ivy? ... Perhaps.

To your disappoint, your instincts had taken over more than your smarts for once, pressing the emergency button that would send Bruce down here. Or rather, Batman. You were one of the few people who knew his identity, and he hired you to work for him, finding you to be an extraordinary inventor, coming up with ways to improve his gear, and come up with new ideas. But now he was headed down here. And you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to prevent yourself from doing something very, very foolish.

A metallic sound was heard as the secure doors opened. “MASK!” You managed to shout, and Bruce pushed a button that made his mask unfold in a way to cover his mouth and his nose, and filter in the air. You hoped that was enough. “What is it?” He said, walking forward, looking around for an explosion of some sort. A spilled beaker. Anything that made it look like a science class gone awry.

“I don’t know - pheromones,” You said, trying to wave the air away from your face but it was too late. “Pressed the emergency button by mistake - gotta vent this out - sorry, I have it handled...” You went to the computer system and started to type things in to start one of the emergency filtration systems. One was to keep dangerous chemicals in, to keep them  from spreading to the city, and others was to get them out quickly. You started the operation for the second one when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” The voice didn’t come out all broody and gravelly like Batman’s did. It was all Bruce through the mask. “I trust you, just relax, and focus on what you’re good at.”

Oh - you really wished he didn’t touch you, because it just set off the reaction.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin. Your face started to feel warm, beadlets of sweat breaking out on your forehead. Your heartbeat increased. Your pupils dilated as you saw the reflection of Bruce in your computer screen. And now he was touching you. His hand - so hot against your skin, you instantly felt feverish. He noticed your reaction, and then slowly let go.

“N-no, please,” You said, putting your hand on top of his, feeling his skin beneath yours, the contact making even more feelings surge through you. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time and I-” Your breathing started to grow heavier. You were forcing yourself to remember to breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. “I just want your hand to stay there while I do this - oh God, please forget this is happening.”

Bruce bristled for a moment, but then he relaxed his hand against you. He kept it there, under yours, while you typed with one hand into the computer. The vents opened and fans started to spread the air out of there, the unnatural pheromones leaving with it, out into the woods beyond the cave. You were left still trembling slightly, still holding Bruce’s hand. Once you realized you were, you moved yours quickly, putting it into your lap.

“I’m sorry-"

“Don’t be,” Bruce said, patting your shoulder, before taking his hand away. “I’ve been wanting to hear that for a long time now.”

Requested by: Anonymous

[justanoasisimagines]

First Impressions.

Summary; Bruce is distracted when he meets you at a Gala Pairing; Bruce Wayne x Female Reader WordCount; 552 Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Bruce navigated the room with practiced ease. He slipped into the room with precision. Bruce knew exactly what to say, and who to say it to. Bruce knew the attendees who he needed to work harder to obtain what he wanted.

Events like this Bruce often remained focused during a Gala such as these. Albeit, he often found himself bored. It was all about keeping up appearances.

However, Bruce was distracted tonight. A long flowing black gown glided across the floor. Eyes met momentarily as Bruce allowed a subtle smile to grace his lips. A mirror image as you brought a champagne flute to your crimson-painted lips.

Bruce didn't care for any other guests tonight. Except you. He wanted to make your acquaintance. Suddenly, Bruce was no longer engaged in the current conversation. He nodded his head, providing short answers. Desperate to end the conversation to make his introductions.

Bruce allowed the conversation five more minutes before he made his excuses. He took two champagne flutes from the waiter passing by.

You were alone, taking a breather from the constant barrage of questions and fake pleasantries. Unlike many you were attending because you cared about helping under privileged children. Unlike those who were heard to spread and hear gossip.

"You look like you could use this" Your eyes glanced up to be met with the hose for the evening. Blue eyes met yours. "Thank you, this place looks beautiful." You examined the room taking in the sight. His team had done an amazing job. Except Bruce couldn't admire he view because he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were breathtaking.

"I can't take the credit. I have an excellent team. They're the ones who made it possible." "Well then you have a great team, Mr. Wayne, you should be proud." "Thank you and please call me Bruce." Bruce angled himself towards you, interested in taking in every minuscule detail about you. That was only the beginning for Bruce, he wanted to know you inside and out. Bruce's nerves were on edge. He'd never been so compelled before. Never by another person. "So what brings you here tonight?" "I work alongside the charity. You're doing excellent work you have no idea how much of an impact the donations will have getting kids off the streets, giving them a chance at life." Bruce admired the way you spoke, The passion in your voice, the way your animated hands reiterated that. "I'm always willing to help any way I can. Gotham's youth are going to bring change. It's something I'm passionate about Bruce observed your smile widen. "I wish others here tonight held your sentiment. Most are here for the publicity and the idle gossip. Tonight's more about flaunting their wealth. They will not give a second thought to the children tonight." "Perhaps we could arrange dinner? Talk about the ways I could help. I'd love to get more involved. "Thank you, I don't know what to say." "Say yes. Let me take you out. Somewhere more intimate and less pretentious. We can talk about everything and make a plan. Bruce gave you a moment, hoping this could provide the opportunity to get to know you and create a different change rather than fighting Gotham's underbelly. "Sure I'll go to dinner with you."

[aangelinakii]

A BREATH APART.

— kiss-blocked by a robin.

summary : ever since you'd been hired as bruce wayne's secretary, you'd always felt a tension between you. what happens when a moment comes so close, only to be taken away?

note : this is NAWT spicy but i tried to make the sexual tension very much there pls lmk if this could be baited as smut by the lead-up

working for bruce wayne was a dream; all you had to do was let him know when his meetings were, and apologise to the businessmen he was supposed to meet when he decided he didn't want to show up — an easy cycle.

your desk was posted right outside his office, a sort of gangway between the business world and... whatever he does in there.

and maybe it was the delusions talking, but you could swear there was something there — between you and bruce wayne, i mean.

apparently he was a womanizer — but aren't they all?

something felt different with bruce. something forbidden. something barely-there.

though you meant to or not, each time you dropped off a stack of papers to his desk, your fingers brushed feather-light against his, lingering for just a moment before you turned your back to hide your sheepish smile.

on countless occasions, in conference and board rooms, when the space was tight, he'd place a careful hand upon your waist or lower back, and squeeze past, uttering a soft apology. when you'd look up at his fleeting figure, dressed smartly in suit and tie, you're sure he'd glance back, but you'd never bring it up later; and that spot on your skin stayed fuzzy the rest of the meeting.

he'd even invited you to a few galas and balls, his hair gelled and sleek as ever, his jacket perfectly tailored to his shoulders — and, perhaps you were wrong, but each time you stepped out in your formal attire, dazzling but not show-stopping or over-the-top, bruce's eyebrows raised slightly, and a hand came to his chest momentarily, as if he were out of breath.

but he was bruce wayne.

you were his secretary.

there were many people he could go for, and you found it difficult to believe that he would go for you.

late into the evening, bruce had offered to have you round the manor whilst looking over some finer details in an agreement another company had sent over. they'd been trying to get bruce on-board for months now, and bruce kept declining; he didn't understand their aim, didn't understand what start-up he was supposed to be funding. but each time he got you to defer their offers over the phone, they'd give it a few weeks and then try again.

either they were badly desperate, or something was off with their terms.

you were sitting in a plush chair before bruce's desk in his home office, the old nature of it a start contrast to his work office, of which his desk sat small against thirty-foot windows, illuminating his back against the bustling city.

here, you could tell it was lived in; from the worn mahogany on certain edges of the desk, which otherwise was polished to a shine, to the crimson armchair in the corner beside a small little table, a stout glass shimmering with an unfinished liquer, telltale by the open bottle adjacent.

but bruce wasn't opposite you, no, although his presence felt increasingly strong.

mint-fresh breath fanned against the shell of your ear as you stared down at the papers sent to you by the small company requesting funding. it took the clench of your fist in your lap to force back the shiver that crept up your spine, knuckles whitening at the action.

one of his hands lay on the backrest of your chair, and you leaned forward over the papers so as to not recline into his warmth, of which radiated even through your clothes, as well as the rich oudy cologne he wore.

"i'm not sure what they think they're doing, really," his expensive voice came in your ear; he was the epitome of old money, even now as his word brushed against your skin.

in return, an airy chuckle came from your lips. with a shake of your head, you dared to turn around to look at him. "and it's the fact they're barely even a start-up, too—"

but your sentence cut short.

it seemed bruce hadn't been anticipating your sudden movement, for your nose whisped against his, causing the two of you to falter — but not move away.

his eyelids inched wider, lashes fluttering in surprise.

your knuckles paled as you gripped the arm of your chair; you swear his blue eyes flickered down, down to your lips.

you swear that, because that's what you did, too.

something sighed in the back of his throat, breathy, like he couldn't bear holding back anymore. just inch... a little bit... closer...

"BRUCE!"

knee jerking in surprise, a bang came as you hit it against the bottom of bruce's desk, who drew himself to his full height just as quickly. as pain shot up your nerves, you craned your neck around just as the door opened, revealing a dashing man with a strange similarity to bruce — raven black hair, although longer and more unkempt, and skintone more sun-kissed.

behind him a shorter boy, again with a likeness to your boss, was jumping into view behind his shoulder.

"dick? tim? what is the meaning of this?" bruce asked, clearing his throat momentarily to disguise his shock. he glanced back at you, but did not meet your gaze. "(name) and i are having a meeting."

as both pairs of eyes drifted to you, your lips pulled instinctively into a sheepish smile.

the taller boy at the front, carefully pulled the door to. "nevermind..." he muttered, turning away. "we can talk about it later; it wasn't that serious anyway." but there was a certain wariness that made your stomach squirm.

bruce turned around as if he didn't want to be alone with you again, and walked round his desk. "apologies," he sighed as he sat down before you. "my sons. there's always something going on in this house." he gave a light chuckle, though the way his mouth kept tugging itself softly to the side implied his attempt for comedy was to fill the silence.

oh, god...

so, his sons almost witnessed you two kiss. you — the secretary. he — the boss. bruce wayne.

but there was a silence, mostly induced by you, until you broke it with grabbing your bag by your feet. "you know what, bruce, should i just tell them no again? and that's the final word?"

bruce's lips parted as he watched you file the papers back in your bag, stunned, confused, aching for you to stay. he fumbled on his words before standing as you did. "yeah, yeah– sure. yeah..."

as you shouldered your bag, you stood before bruce, unsure what to say to him now the moment of tension had passed, and been broken so horribly.

"i'll– uh– see you tomorrow at the office, then, sir," you smiled.

before you turned, bruce's eyes flickered with something, but you were too quick, missing the emotion behind it.

work surely would be awkward tomorrow — unless you both woke up the next morning inwardly agreeing to never mention this again.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could we please have a batboys (and Bruce) x reader who can break the 4th wall?

This was rubbish.

Dick

Would rest his head on your shoulder and ask. ‘Who are you talking to sweetheart?’

He genuinely wants to know considering the first thing he heard was you talking back his beautiful back and perfect thighs, only to find that you were saying all this to no one in particular.

‘Oh just the lovely people reading this.’ You tell him happily and Dick would only see the walls of your shared room.

‘And what are they saying?’ Dick would then say.

‘Oh I can’t hear them, nor can I really see them exactly but I just have this feeling that we are being watched -or read in this case- by many people, I can sense them and i want them to feel included in my love life with the most beautiful man Gotham has to offer.’ You tell him as you kiss him on the cheek, making him smile.

‘Well as long as they know that I am taken by you, then we’ll be okay.’ Dick replied as he kissed your forehead sweetly. Dick at first though you were just the type to talk to yourself like some people, but seeing as how it seemed as though you were more or less addressing someone rather then just talking to yourself, Dick then assumed that you might have an ability that allows you to look past this reality and into another one entirely that might be looking into this one.

It was a scary thought to think that he was being watched ,or read as you put it, by another reality but it was intriguing nonetheless the less that there was a possibility of multiple dimensions. So he could only imagine what you were able to experience if you were able to see beyond this reality to address people who probably saw him in a different form entirely.

If anything he’s extremely curious as to how your ability worked exactly as it was something that was clearly unheard of. Somedays you would address the audience as per usual but other times you didn’t address them at all, almost as though you knew where and when they’ll pay attention to you both: all so that you could entertain them for as long as possible without it coming across as excessive or too long winded.

He would try to act like he could see them too as to not have you feeling so alone, but would get flustered when you tell him that he was looking the wrong way.

He’ll leave the fourth wall breaking to you instead and will be nosy and ask all sorts of questions about your ability, all before saying that your powers was the most coolest he’s come across, but you knew he was only saying that because you were his beloved partner but that didn’t make what he said any less true.

Jason

Would raise a brow at first but would keep this tendency to himself out of a need to protect you from those who’d gladly send you away for such tendency.

Jason isn’t phased by much but you talking to a wall as though someone was there brought a weird feeling to his chest.

‘His thighs? Perfect. His stomach and autopsy scars? Delicious. Arms, hands and back? Gorgeous but all of you at home are already aware of that and could only imagine how plush his tits are-‘

‘Who are you talking to chipmunk?’ He’d ask, cutting you off as he expected you to be on the phone to someone, so imagine to his surprise when he saw your phone on charge and you were in fact talking to thin air.

‘Just the people thirsting after you.’ You’d reply as though it was common sense.

‘Thirsting?’ Jason tried the word, not liking how it sounded coming from his mouth. ‘What’s that?’

‘Just think of it as another word for desire, but they can’t have you because in their reality you’re a fictional character who gets the short end of the stick constantly by people who don’t know what to do with you in general.’ You shrugged as you looked over at him with a smile. ‘Also you get stereotyped as someone you’re not by people who obviously lack a capacity for reading given how short their attention span is.’ The last part was muttered under your breath before bringing the conversation back to him.

‘Enough about me how about you honey?’

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and Jason knew it wouldn’t be the last either as he would find you passionately ranting to your invisible audience about something, and while it was cute to watch you be this passionate, he also became concerned for you in case you were going through something that you didn’t want to burden him with out of a need to protect yourself.

‘You can tell me if you’re going through something you know that right?’ He’d tell you one night as he holds your face in his hands.

‘Of course I do jaybird,’ you whispered to him before watching him as he fell asleep, only to move your head elsewhere to speak to the wall. ‘Isn’t he the cutest? Truly a man unlike any other, a dying breed if you will, but I can assure you dear readers that you too will find your Jason Todd because that’s what you all deserve in life is to be loved deeply by an non-judgmental and caring man.’ You fished before joining him in your sleep.

Tim

He thinks your maladaptive daydreaming.

What else was he meant to take away from you talking to seemingly no one so passionately as you did in that moment.

He didn’t want to say that you were insane but it wasn’t everyday where a sane person would idly make conversation with thin air or a brick wall as casually as you did.

That or you were extremely lacking in sleep and were now seeing things, if that was the case then he would be able to relate to you as he had those types of days also, more often then others that’s for sure but from what Tim could tell was far from the truth as you looked bright and too well rested for that to be the answer.

And honestly? He doesn’t want to know who exactly you were talking to as not to frighting himself shitless and would act as though you talking to a crowd of no one within your shared room was completely normal in Gotham.

God forbid you start talking to this unseen audience during the night, Tim will think he’s in some sort of horror movie that he was forced to watch with the rest of his family on Halloween. Seriously who knew fourth wall breaking could come across as though you were demonically possessed?

He wants to ask who you’re talking to, he really does but if he was running low on fumes that day, really tired and wanting nothing more then sleep he would forgo all logic and just agree with what you were saying to thin air.

‘I wish I could tell you just how mean Tim can be when he’s sleep deprived, you think you know sarcasm? Wait until Tim is on about two hours of sleep and then you’ll know true sarcasm.’ You’d say.

‘Says the one who’s talking to the wall as though it had ears to listen or a mouth to respond.’ He’d replied.

‘See what Im on about? Absolutely mean when he’s sleep deprived.’ He would hear you whisper aloud but he was on the verge of falling asleep against the table to find out the true reason to your uncanny ability to break the fourth wall.

Damian

Genuinely thought something was off with how often you would look off into the distance, as though you were addressing someone he couldn’t see, like a hidden camera that lead to an unseen audience.

‘Isn’t he the cutest when he’s acting all tough,’ he’d her you say, ‘it’s like if you give a rabid chihuahua a knife but ten times worse because he can actually back up his deeply descriptive threats.’ Damian’s brow would raise at this as he watched you silently as his mind wondered who you could possibly be entertaining with such things.

Gotham has an ability to make the most strong minded person break and needles to say Damian would keep silent watch over you while you had these kinds of episodes, even when you would proudly praise his artistic skills but never to him directly, but more so to seemingly thin air with a beaming smile.

‘He’s got a future as many things and in all honestly I’m envious of how multitalented my Dami is, but at least I get to be his hype man and cheer for him no matter what, which is something I bet half of you which you could have but here I am loving your fantasy!’ You’d finish with a cackle and it left Damian smiling to himself at your pride towards him, but also still very curious as to who it was you were talking to.

‘Who are you talking to.’ He would ask you one day.

‘The audience reading this fic.’ You’d reply as though it was the most casual thing to bring up in conversation.

Damian’s brows furrowed. ‘Audience? What audience.’ He tried looking in the same direction as you, only to see nothing but his bed.

‘Oh I don’t expect you to see them but they are there,’ you tried to reassure Damian but it only came off as ominous and albeit cryptic, ‘they are always there, watching.’ You’d add and needles to say your words only made Damian go into a defensive posture at the aspect of being spectated by beings only you could seemingly engage with.

Well done you’ve made Damian somewhat paranoid as to what this audience you speak to wanted, what they wanted with you to have you keep engaging in conversation with them and what they could be planning.

‘Always watching?’ Damian asked.

‘Yep,’ you replied, ‘but not when we’re in the bathroom, that’s just really weird but other then that we are merely entertainment for them to consume on days of boredom and to grow a parasocial relationship with us to their leisure.’ You added and when you looked over at Damian, his jade eyes were wide and you winced internally, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all because now you’d knew Damian would start reaching for his sword out of instinct now.

Try and tell him it’s a joke as much as you like but Damian would now take your ability to break the fourth wall as a sign that someone was out there, watching all of you, an invisible enemy that he couldn’t kill and it pissed him off. He’ll break you free of the curse…sooner or later.

Bruce

‘That man is finer than a mother fucker and he knows it. And I know damn well all you thirsty bitches are making edits of my sexy Bruce to the song of older by Isabel LaRosa. I just know it you absolute sluts, but I can’t blame you because I would too.’ Bruce had just finished showering and the first thing he sees is you seemingly talking to a wall as though you were talking to a group of people in a whole different plan of existence.

He’s seen a lot of things in his time as Batman but someone talking to people who aren’t there? He’d assume you’re either clairvoyant or have another ability that can allow you to talk to an audience of people whom he can’t see, for whatever it was wouldn’t change Bruce’s opinion on you, powers or not.

‘My darling.’ He’d greet you as he holds you from behind. ‘May I ask why and or who you were speaking so passionately about me to?’ He adds.

‘The people reading this fanfic.’ You’d tell him as though it was a completely normal thing to admit as it was something you had been doing for as long as you could remember. Your parents thought you were talking to an invisible friend like other kids your age, but it grew concerning when you were still talking to no one in particular well into your late teens.

Bruce just raised a brow but would assume that you had some ability that you weren’t comfortable to admit to him, and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk to him about such a thing, especially not if you had admitted to someone in the past before and their reactions were negative.

He would just try and look deeper into this sort of thing in hopes of finding any pre-existing information about anyone showing similar signs as you and reading it deeply and intensively so that he could be well informed to know what you were going through. Bruce loves to be educated on things that he didn’t understand with the hopes of understanding it on a deeper level, so if he did managed to find something that perfectly describes what you were doing, then he’ll be reading it until he could recite it in his sleep.

He didn’t want you to feel as though you should be ashamed of your unique ability and would often take notes and things that he’d noticed you do as you addressed the invisible audiences in vivid detail. Your ability to see into another reality or anything similar to talk to people was a powerful thing to have and Bruce was fascinated by such a unique power, a power that could prove that alternate realities exist.

But Bruce would find himself intrigued with how you talked to this invisible audiences, almost as though you were greeting an old friend, whether or not this was your way to cope with the fact that you could sense an audience watching your every move and leave no privacy to be had for yourself. It was unfortunately something Bruce wasn’t quite sure but until your ability was causing you harm he would contour to watch and observe while acting as though he was unaware/ unfazed of your tendency to talking to seemingly no one.

Basically reader: you should know this too

[thebigbadbatswife]

Day 1 - Pegging

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Warnings - 18+ content, if you're under 18 leave immediately! Smut, Pegging, FemDom, Anal Sex, Doggy Style, Strap Ons, Submissive Bruce Wayne, Nicknames, Hand Jobs

Summary -  You and Bruce try something new in the bedroom.

“Are you ready, Brucie?” 

Your voice was all teasing and full of temptation. He could hear the smirk that was on your face. He was on his hands and knees, on the bed, with you sat directly behind him.

Tonight had been your idea. Asking him to give up control, even for just a little bit. As much as he hated giving up control, he trusted you and what you had proposed sounded good. Really good. How could he say no?

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he replied. The question came off as strange to him. You knew he was ready. You had watched him prep himself earlier. Fingering himself open, slowly stretching his hole, while you had watched from the armchair. Your legs spread, resting on the arm rests of the chair while you had very lightly touched your clitoris. Enough to work you up, but not enough to come close to coming. Then realisation hit him. You were giving him a way out, if he wanted it. Like the many times he had tried something new with you and he had made sure you wanted it. He didn’t want or need a way out. He wanted you to fuck him.

His body jolted and his breathing hitched as you applied some more lube. It was cold, sending goosebumps all across his body. He felt the mattress dip as you moved, settling between his legs. The anticipation of it all had his cock feeling harder than it had ever been before.

He felt the head of your strap-on press up against his puckered hole. One of your hands smoothed over his back before coming to rest on his hip. Slowly, you pushed the head of the dildo inside of him. The stretch was delicious and had his mouth dropping open as he took as shuddering breath. You chuckled as you stroked his hips, as you continued pushing inside of him.

He clenched down and moaned as the toy already rubbed against his prostate. Bruce could feel the warmth radiating off of you and the feel of the harness against his body, as you bottomed out. He was grateful he had chosen the penthouse for this tonight. There was no need to add to his family’s trauma.

You were murmuring softly. Letting him know how good he was doing. Sprinkling in a few “pretty boy”s here and there. He couldn’t explain what that nickname did to him. How it made him feel. All good things, of course. Much like the feeling of the toy inside of him. Making him feel so goddamn full. It had him briefly wondering if this was how you felt every night he slid into your wet, hot cunt.

His hands gripped the covers and he could feel precum leaking from his cock. 

The mattress creaked as you shifted, slowly pulling out of him before pushing back in. The action sent electricity shooting up his spine and he moaned again. Though he had a preference for being quiet, mostly so he could hear your noises, he wasn’t ashamed of his moans and groans. Plus they let you know how much he approved of what you were doing. How good it felt for him to be fucked by his girlfriend.

As his body relaxed, each thrust became easier, letting you go faster and harder. The sound of your hips clapping against him filled the room, along with his moans.

“Feels really fucking good, doesn’t it, pretty boy?” you purred his nickname. He could hear it in your voice. You were enjoying this a lot. Watching him lose himself completely to the pleasure coursing through him. Falling apart because of you.

He didn’t trust his voice not crack, so he responded to your question with a guttural moan, that he definitely didn’t mean to come out like that. Fuck. The things this was doing to him. Him. Bruce Wayne. The Batman. Gotham’s Dark Knight reduced to a needy, moaning mess by his girlfriend’s strap-on. Thankfully, what happened behind closed doors stayed there.

His cock ached, badly. He was starting to get desperate for it to be touched, but he couldn’t do it himself. He didn’t trust that he wouldn’t just collapse on the bed, letting you have your way with him even more than you already were. Fortunately it seemed you had read his mind because before he could try to speak up, he felt your hand wrap around his shaft. You stroked upwards, wiping away the precum that had been leaking out of him with your thumb. You chuckled softly at your discovery.

“Already a mess and you haven’t even emptied your balls yet, baby.” The way you were speaking to him had a shiver run through him. He liked it a lot. He didn’t think that he would, yet here he was wanting more of it. Your hand released his shaft so you could give his balls a quick squeeze before you started to stroke him again. The squeeze made a choked noise leave him. A noise he was certain you enjoyed.

As you stroked his cock, your thrusts became harder, more forceful. Each one moving him forward a little bit. The pleasure made his eyes roll in his head. His orgasm building up quickly, like a speeding train. He wasn’t going to last much longer and you were sure as hell making sure of that.

“Going to be a good boy and come for me, pretty boy?” you asked him, fucking him harder. The constant feeling of the dildo hitting his prostate, the way you were stroking his cock and how you were speaking to him, sent him over the edge.

He came hard, his body shuddering as he emptied his balls. He felt some of it hit his chest, the rest of it staining the covers. His mouth dropped open in a soundless moan as you continued to fuck him through it. Stopping when he made a small sound of protest from the sensitivity of his cock. His forearms shook as he did his best to hold himself up. 

Bruce felt like he was up on cloud nine. All of the tension releasing from his shoulders. The force of his orgasm relaxing him completely. For the time being at least, it seemed you had taken the weight of the world off of him.

You released his cock, but remained sheathed inside of him for a moment. You were panting yourself, and you hadn’t even come yet tonight.

Slowly, you eased the toy out of him. The emptiness it left behind felt… odd to him. He couldn’t quite find the words as he let his body finally give out and collapsed onto the bed. His limbs felt like jelly.

“How was that?” you asked. The dominance you had just shown was completely gone. Instead replaced by well… you. Eager to find out how he had found that. “Was it good?”

“Yeah, baby,” he replied. “It was great.”

“Good.” You rubbed his lower back reassuringly. “You did so well for me.”

He couldn’t help, but smile softly, as he looked over his shoulder at you. You were resting back on your knees, a fine sheen of sweat on your body, your breasts bouncing slightly with each deep breath you took. The harness was still in place, the straps digging into your skin. You looked amazing to him.

“You must be pretty worked up right now,” he said.

“Yeah.” A smirk was on your lips. “Want to help me out with that?” you asked, already starting to remove the harness. Ready to chuck it to the side.

He nodded. “Of course I do.” 

He rolled onto his back and, with the harness gone, you moved up his body, your legs coming to rest either side of his head. Your cunt was dripping, arousal smeared on the inside of your thighs and your clitoris swollen, begging for his attention. His licked his lips, swallowing thickly. He couldn’t wait to devour you. Show you how appreciative he was.

You lowered yourself down onto his face, gasping as his mouth was quick to meet you.

[msfantasy-comics]

The Love triangle

Toxic!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Bruce is caught up in a love triangle with Cat Woman and Y/n. Decisions must be made.

Warning: Bruce is depicted as an unhealthy love interest. An ambiguous ending.

Tip Jar - Masterlist

Bruce never thought he’d be caught up in a love triangle.

One moment he was enjoying the company of two wonderful women, next minute, Alfred is lecturing Bruce on his greediness and advising him to be selective.

Alfred: “Master Bruce Y/n is a fine young woman who is delicate in nature. You know just as well as I do that she expects monogamy. Choose between the two master Bruce. You cannot have it all.”

But it’s really not all that simple.

Selina his lover and his confidant. They have been sharing a bed together for so long that there is no surprises. It’s just too hard to part ways with someone who understands you better than you understand yourself.

He knows all of Selina’s quirks, and knows what to expect of her at the worse of times.

He couldn’t possibly part ways with someone so important.

But then there’s Y/n.

Y/n sparked a part within himself he never knew existed. She turned him into such a love sick fool.

He craved the feelings of normalcy, stability and safety that Y/n nurtured into their relationship. She makes him so happy, and makes him feel so safe and secure. It’s a feeling that he has not felt in a relationship.

The decision is far too grand. Selina is predictable, and consistency is comfortable. But…

There is no denying that Bruce’s feelings for Y/n is stronger. But the issue is… she’s unpredictable.

One major mistake will cost him. Y/n will not hesitate to walk out on him if he gives her a reason to.

So he should just stay with Selina, right?

But… is he just denying himself a chance at a happy ever after because he’s too scared ?

Selina will always be there.

Y/n will not.

So he better give it a proper try with Y/n and breaks things off with Selina. She’ll always be waiting for him anyway.

Selina: “So what are you saying Bruce? Are you saying your done with me? Your committing to little miss boring and normal? She’s a civilian Bruce, she can never be part of our world.”

Bruce: “She brings me happiness.”

Selina: “And I don’t bring you happiness? You sure look happy after I see you.”

Bruce: “Pleasure is not the same as happiness.”

Selina: “How dare you… after everything… you know what Bruce? You’ll mess it up somehow just like you always do. And when you do, you’ll come crawling back to me just like you always do.”

And with that she left - leaving Bruce by himself

And with you listening outside the door with a clenched fist.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Bruce Wayne Drabbles & One Shots

updated November 23 2024

Main Masterlist

Requesting Rules

Batty Sympathy || Summary: You can’t hold the sadness in anymore. Bruce comforts you after the gala the pair of you attended together.

Behind Closed Doors || Summary: unbeknownst to you, you become friends with the city’s famous mobster.

A Gotham Affair || Summary: Bruce marries you in front of Gotham’s finest.

Lucky You || Summary: you stay awake worried about bruce after you return home from a gala in the city

Not Worth It || Summary: you were never worth his time.

[urfavslytherclawgirl]

Unusual Visit

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 900+

Warning: Swearing, only one POV, bruises, blood, needle (closing a deep cut).

Summary: Bruce breaks into your house wanting you to heal his bruises and because he wants cuddles.

You woke up with a weird noise coming from your living room and glass breaking, you got up and got a baseball hidden in your closet, mostly because Gotham isn't the safest city of all and because your boyfriend, Bruce, suggested you did it in case someone tried to break into your house.

"I have a bat and some internal rage I can use!" You announced slowly walking into your living room with your bat raised into the air.

"Calm down--shit--it's just me." A shaky but familiar voice said near a shadow, the further you walked the more you noticed Bruce wearing his suit and using the wall as support.

"Bruce! What happened to you?" You asked throwing the bat on the couch and walking towards your boyfriend, Bruce was hurt with blood going down his face under the mask and his suit almost ripped in a few spots.

"You should've seen the other guy." He laughed as you helped him lay down on the couch and take his suit off so you could see what was bruised, the longer you saw the more you got worried. He had a nearly broken rib, two purple bruises on his chest, and a deep cut on his stomach, his arm had a few purple spots and his nose was bleeding.

"I'll go get my first-aid kit." You announced walking away quickly and going into your bathroom, after getting it you kneeled down on the floor next to the couch Bruce layed on and opened the kit.

"I have a needle to close the cut and arnica ointment for the purple bruises, which one do you want first?" You asked as Bruce looked at the needle then at you.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" Bruce asked in true concern as you rolled your eyes, getting up and walking towards your kitchen to get a bottle of whiskey.

"Drink it, it's good for pain. And yes, I do know how to use it, Bruce." You answered handing him the bottle and getting the needle and nylon thread.

"I'll start in 3, 2--" you said before starting to close the wound on his stomach, Bruce whispered swears as you were to focused on the deep cut to care.

"Fuck, you forgot the 1." He pointed out making a face of discomfort looking at the cut.

"I know, it's a tactic I learned it with my doctor when I was a child. Every time I'd get a shot she'd do this, it helped a lot." He nodded and closed his eyes.

"All done." You said, making a knot with thread and cutting it with a pair of little scissors that came with the kit. You got up and went to your kitchen to get a pack of ice and a wet cloth.

You kneeled again and started to clean his mouth and nose full of blood then lightly pressed the ice pack on his nose. You got the palm of his hand and pressed it on the ice pack, meaning you wanted him to hold it so you could apply ointment on his other bruises.

After putting back the first-aid kid where it belonged you helped Bruce walk towards your bedroom and lay down on your bed.

"Get some rest, Bruce." You said sitting on the edge of the bed, he put his hand on your cheek, moving his thimb left and right.

"Stay with me, please." You nodded and got up from the edge of the bed walking towards the other side, you lay down next to him and pressed your chest on his back, wrapping your arms on his chest under his arm.

"Take more care of yourself, Bruce. I need you alive for us to be together." You whispered, making Bruce laugh then hiss in pain, you smiled and kissed his back, his scars.