#bruce wayne x wife!reader

[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.

[kurogxrix]

Under Wraps

Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader

IN WHICH Bruce and you deal with the aftermath of your kidnapping.

WC: 1.8k

warnings: ANGST, mentions of kidnapping, injuries, PTSD, soft!Bruce.

A/N: Ive l’ost all motivation in writing as of recently and had to FORCE myself to write this for a whole ass month😭 so it’s really nothing great.

The tense silence that lingered between you two was suffocating, albeit all windows in the room being wide open. You just couldn’t get yourself to speak, and Bruce just didn’t know what to say. He never does, but you love him either way. it’s funny to see the cocky billionaire flaunt all of his riches out to the world while he softens for you.

You sat upon the edge of your shared bed with your head in your hands, unable to make out whatever you husband was fumbling with behind you. The feeling of being in the opposite man’s grasp was so fresh to you, like a new scar that your brain harboured. Not only mentally, but the haunting mark across your wrists and neck were yet another temporary reminder of what had happened to you that night.

Oftentimes throughout the night you found yourself being ashamed for a reason or the other. Your husband’s been through worse, so have your sons, and yet your brain couldn’t help but replay the disturbing images of the moment you’d lost Bruce at the gala. You sighed in the comfort of your hands, forcing your eyelids shut impossibly further than they already were to try and shoo the nightmares away. 

Your clothes laid messily somewhere across the floor, a bloody and muddy mess that Bruce had quickly drawn off of you before ushering you into a warm shower. He’d then dressed you in a silky robe, and that was the end of it before you’d end up on the edge of the bed, alone with your thoughts despite your husband being in the same room as you.

Your ears fell deaf to the sound of constant rustling of cloth, so much that you failed to hear him crouch before you as he settled comfortably on his knees. 

Rough hands gently pried at your own, pulling them away from their protective stance around your face. The sudden lack of covering made you scrunch your nose in dismay, but a quick look from those hazel eyes before you had you relaxing. Bruce made a quick work out of the situation, silent as ever as his hands came to undo the knot around your robe that he himself had previously tied. 

You didn’t complain as his hands pushed at your robe, revealing the naked torso that Bruce had seen so many times before. The soft sigh that escaped your husband didn’t go deaf to your ears, and you closed your eyes once more as you awaited for the tingly feeling of his fingers. Seconds passed in sterile silence before you finally felt the scarred skin upon your own, except instead of balm covered fingers, you were met with his warm, bare ones. 

You opened your eyes to the sight of your dishevelled husband staring down at your bruised torso, the balms and bandages that were once in his left hand now abandoned beside you on the bed. His right hand held onto your side like an anchor, wide thumb pressing against your stomach. Bruce kneeling between your open legs was a sight that you’d never get tired of, but this time you could only pray for it to end. 

Hazel iris traced the dark spots littering your torso with a shame that was beyond their ability. Tiny hairs across his hairline stuck to his forehead due to cold sweat, and you brought a hand down to smooth them behind, little to no care for the tacky fluid rubbing onto your hand. Slowly by slowly, you began caressing your way down his face, smoothing out the wrinkles accumulating on his face before stopping on the edge of his jaw. 

The feeling of your fingers, alive and warm upon his freshly shaven jaw caused his fingers to involuntary clench on your side. The painful hiss that escaped your mouth was enough to snap your husband out of his stance, fingers almost immediately unclenching from their grip. 

Masochistic as it was, you were somewhat glad for the pain. It reminded you that you were alive and well, there in the mansion with your husband. It also managed to get those brown eyes that you loved so much to snap upwards towards you. They held so many feelings in there that you believed you could not be able to tend to them all in one night.

“I’m sorry,” it left his lips faster than your brain could comprehend, and you were left dumbfounded yourself at those two little words. Meaningless in most relationships, those words were nothing that you’d ever hear coming on of the one and only Bruce Wayne’s lips. He was cocky, always flaunting his riches to those who seeked. 

“It’s okay, it only hurt for a second.” you lied, because the throbbing pain still coursing through your right side threatened to sell you out. You could tell that Bruce wasn’t buying it, so much for being Gotham’s greatest detective. Nevertheless, your hand resumed its delicate caressing upon his cheek, a ruse to take his mind away from the little slip up. 

You could practically see the gears turning inside his head, trying to decipher why in hell you would be lying to him about this out of everything. Yet again he’d worried far too much over you in one night, you wouldn’t let his mind collapse over something so minor. 

Bruce didn’t wait for your approval before shifting on his knees, hands grabbing at the balms that looked humorously tiny compared to his large palm. The cold paste spreads smoothly upon the tip of his fingers, and soon they’re on your skin. The sensation made you flinch, but the reassuring hand that laid on your knee made you calm down. You thought it was crazy how such a simple thing could make you relax so easily, yet again marriage and love were another crazy thing of their own.

Your fingers clenched on their own as you felt

your throat tightening. No. Hell no, you wouldn’t let Bruce see you cry after the hectic course of fucking hell of days that you’d put him through. That selfless side of you that was present most of the time was yelling at you to stay strong, and yet the sight of your burly, rough and yet caring husband doting after you following your accident, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

You fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging little crescent moon into the skin of your palm as

you gritted your teeth together to hold in a loud sob threatening to escape past your lips involuntarily. From his spot on the floor, Bruce froze at the sight of the soft, rhythmic movements that swayed at your chest. From the corner of his eyes nevertheless, and in the dimness of the enclosed room, his senses never failed him.

Tilting his face up to meet your own, his fingers unwillingly clenched around the poor tin can of balm upon his hands. The tears that you were trying so hard to keep in pooled at your waterline, entangling in your bottom lashes before escaping on their own accord. He watched as your chest shook, exasperation taking over your body before you could even cry to him. Yet you weren’t doing it, and for some reason Bruce knew that he had some part to play in it. 

He remained silent as his hand came to clutch onto your own. Then, the sobs shook you and you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. You jumped from your seat on the edge of the bed and straight into his awaiting embrace, arms thrown tightly around the broad neck. Bruce felt his heart squeezing at the sound of your distraught cries, like the Joker himself had his heart placed and chained on some sort of death carousel. 

Nothing was more painful to Bruce than family. The bad and the good hurt. Like when happiness would grasp at his heart so hard that it’d physically hurt. Only family could achieve that for him, yet life wasn’t always favourable, and the bat knew that better than anyone else. He could make a list of things, one shittier and more tragic than the other, that’s happened to Bruce ever since he was but a little boy, and yet, his heart never got more of in a twist than at the sight of a member of his family hurting. 

Your breath staggered, and your husband felt the warm exhale of you trying to stabilise yourself upon his neck. A large, ringless, and warm palm found its way to the small of your back like a collarless dog chasing home. Suddenly, another bare hand fell upon your back as Bruce embraced you against his chest fully. 

The room was void of any noise save for the agonising sounds of your pained sobs. Bruce didn’t need to ask anything, he didn’t need to inquire to know that you were hurt. All the more scared and traumatised after your encounter with the Joker. His large palm rubbed comforting circles along your back as you laid motionless in his warm embrace. 

“You’re home now,” he muttered, as though it would help appease all of the new scars and fears that you'd acquired in the span of a few days. 

“I’m glad.” you breathed out from your position in the crook of his neck, feeling like you’d break down again if you spoke too much. The both of you occupied your positions on the floor for far longer than normal, only splitting apart to rejoin the comfort of the soft mattress after you’d whined in pain following a slight movement to adjust yourself on his lap. 

Bruce made a quick and effortless job of carrying you back to bed, pausing in his movements when you’d told him you’d feel better to sleep with the side lamp on tonight. The frown on his face deepened at your comment, yet he didn’t allow you to see it as he kept his back to you despite complying. Settling in bed was even harder for you than you expected, unable to wrap your arms around the muscular torso of your husband and rest your head upon his chest as your injury unabled you to. 

Sleep didn’t come easy either, plagued with nightmares that previously didn’t exist in the far back of your mind. Bruce was here with you through it all, his sleeping habits aiding him to wake by the moment you’d stir awake. That night, Batman slept but Bruce didn’t, but the feeling of your pulse regaining its normal beat as you laid with your back against his chest erased Bruce’s ability to care. Safe and sound under the wraps.

-

anyways that was that….

[bizbat]

All Wrapped up

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

~ Explicit smut

~ Reader is alluded to be smaller than Bruce, but appearance is otherwise not described

~ Reader wears a dress and makeup

~ Partially based on these headcanons

~ You can find more of my works here

~ Wc: 3.6k

C/W: Smut, PiV penetration, Mdom, Healthy Dom/Sub dynamics (consent checks, aftercare, establishment of a safeword, etc.), Bondage, Oral (male & female receiving), Finger sucking, Fingering, Slight slapping, Spit, Face fucking, Slight humiliation, Praise and degradation, Pet names (Angel, Pretty, Baby, Girl/Good girl, Sir, Slut), Dacryphilia, Pussy job, Cervix fucking, Mating press, Slight Breeding, Creampie, Size difference

It's the holiday season, and what could be a better gift than you, all wrapped up in a pretty, red ribbon?

Bruce found himself collapsing into a plush chair, massaging his temples as he stared down into the crowd from his position on the balcony. He tugged at the neck of his fluffy, green, turtle neck, the one his wife, Y/n had begged him to wear. Apparently, they matched, as she was dressed in a gorgeous gown with a red, corseted bodice, and a flowing, green, tulle skirt.

As if sensing his dismay, Y/n climbed up the staircase leading to the balcony Bruce was hiding away on, her heels clicking against the marble floor alerting him of her presence. He didn't look up as she wrapped her arms around him from behind, the smell of her expensive perfume flooding his nose as she hugged him. He looked at her over his shoulder as she pulled away, taking in her appearance.

She looked perfect. He hair was curled and artfully pinned atop her head with ribbons, the bodice of her gown was tailored to her exactly, pushing her breasts up and together. It drew attention to her necklace that accentuated her neck, the gold bejeweled with bright red rubies that flattered her skin tone.

Y/n stroked Bruce's cheek with a gloved hand, a big, warm smile decorating her face as she kissed the tip of his nose, a smudge of lipgloss left in her wake. She giggled as he wiped it away with a cloth napkin on the table. Though, her smile dimmed a bit when she noticed the less than happy expression on her husband's face.

"I . . ." She looked down at the crowd of people over the balcony, people of all classes eating, drinking, and dancing together in the Wayne Manor ballroom. She had begged Bruce to throw a Christmas Gala, to have an open invitation so that it would be available to everyone, and not just the famous and wealthy, though now she could see that it really was begging to wear him down.

She ran her fingers through his hair, the perfectly slicked locks now wild from him running his hands through his hair multiple times. "Thank you, Bruce." She whispered, pressing her forehead to his. "I know you don't usually like these things, and you really didn't-"

"I wanted to." He cut her off as she began to ramble, a pout on her painted lips. "It's my gift." He stroked her chin with his thumb. "As long as you enjoy yourself, then I'll be happy."

Y/n nodded, though not fully convinced. Bruce hated galas, and parties, or public events of any kind, and he sacrificed valuable time so he could attend, and not just leave his wife to host it on her own. Y/n pressed her forehead to his once again, before hearing someone call her name from below. She turned to Bruce, who gave her his best reassuring smile, before quickly leaving his line of sight amongst the partygoers.

Bruce didn't see her the rest of the night, not even when the event came to an end and everyone began pouring out of the manor, gifts in hand. He had asked Alfred if he had seen her, but it seems the old man was just as clueless to her whereabouts as he was. Bruce tried not to think about all of the situations she could be in, his headache from earlier quickly worsening with every moment.

He was finally able to escape to his and Y/n's shared room once Damian and Duke were snug in bed, and the rest of his children were home for the night. He was still worried about her, though, as it was soon replaced with relief. And then, with arousal.

He found Y/n on their bed, her arms and legs constrained with a single red ribbon. In her mouth was another ribbon, preventing her from speaking as Bruce locked the door behind him, and traversed beside her on the bed, all while never taking his eyes off her. He chuckled to himself as he stroked her head, his eyes trailing her restrained figure.

"What is this, huh? Is this my gift?" Y/n nodded, her eyes wide as she stared up at Bruce's imposing figure, looming over her from the bedside. Bruce's fingers ghosted down her cheek before brushing against her lips, her lip gloss smudged and partially removed from the cloth ribbon between her teeth. He tugged the ribbon out of her mouth, replacing the fabric gag with his thumb.

His pants tightened as he watched her suck on his thumb without prompting. "Good girl," He cooed. "Such an obedient little slut for me." Y/n nodded around his finger, her eyes never leaving his as she circled his thumb with her tongue, hollowing her cheeks around the appendage.

Bruce pulled his thumb from her mouth, a string of spit connecting it to her tongue as she briefly chased after it. "You gonna be my good girl? Gonna use your words?" Bruce stroked Y/n's heir, the ribbons from earlier now absent. "Yes sir." She said, her eyes glossy and her cheeks and ears on fire. "Gonna be good. Gonna be your good girl."

"Then stick out your tongue for me, baby." Bruce commanded, leaning down and enveloping it in his own mouth when she immediately followed his orders. He palmed his stiffening cock through his pants. He hissed as he pulled away, unzipping his green pants and sliding them down just far enough to take his cock out.

He pumped his shaft to full firmness as he practically glared down at Y/n, watching as she bit her glossy lip in anticipation. He watched her squirm in her bindings, the red ribbon decorating her barse skin. It tied her wrists together in front of her, going down and tieing her knees and ankles as well.

Bruce groaned as he jerked himself off in front of his wife. "You gonna suck my cock pretty girl? Gonna make me feel good?" Y/n bit her lip so hard Bruce worried she might draw blood, as she rapidly nodded her head. Bruce brough his free hand down upon Y/n's cheek, just hard enough to sting. "Use your words, girl." He lightly squeezed her cheeks as he made her look at him.

"I wanna suck your cock, sir!" She wriggled around in her binding, her cunt growing slick as Bruce teased her with his cock. He smiled, brushing his thumb against his head, swiping off a bead of precum and pushing it between her lips.

He bit his own lip as Y/n tasted him. "That's it . . . that's my good fucking girl." Bruce straddled Y/n's chest, kneeling over her as he pressed his cock to her swollen lips. She opened her mouth wide for Bruce, sticking out her tongue as she waited for his permission.

Bruce rested his tip against her tongue, thrusting his hips lightly as pearls of his precum spread across her muscle, before pushing further into Y/n's mouth. He paused when she started to choke on his length, even though was only about halfway in. "Breath, baby. You can take it."

He grunted as she swallowed him deeper, breathing through her nose. "That's it . . . That's it."He held back her hair so he could see her entire face. "Just like that." He groaned, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver run up his spine.

He continued to mumble praises as she took him deeper and deeper down her throat, his hips thrusting in front of her face. He began to increase his pace, his ears burning as the sound of his wife gagging on his cock filled the room.

Bruce held Y/n's head still as he fucked her throat, spit dripping down her chin and pooling across her chest, glossing her tits and slicking her lips. He grunted as his muscles tightened, a sign of his impending orgasm.

He pulled out of Y/n's mouth, rapidly pumping his shaft before thick, white spurts of his creamy cum landed on her face and waiting tongue. "Don't." He warned when he saw her begin retracting her cum covered tongue back into her mouth.

Y/n's face was on fire, humiliation coursing through her veins as the cum mixed with the excess saliva on her tongue and began to drip down onto her and chest. She whined, pleading for Bruce to let her swallow. "What do you want, angel?" He lightly tapped her cheek, reminding her to speak. "You said you were gonna be good. I can't do anything unless you tell me what you want."

"Wan'-" She huffed, trying to speak with her tongue sticking out. "Wanna swallow. Wanna swallow your cum, sir." It was unclear, but Bruce deciphered her words, laughing at her as she shivered, pleading with wide, tear-struck eyes. "Just stay there a little longer baby," he panted, stroking her hair. "I wanna get a good look at you like this."

She looked even better like this, her hair messy from laying against the pillows, her hardened nipples showing through the soaked, red ribbon that laid across her chest. Bruce bit his lip and groaned, his cock still painfully hard.

Y/n's thighs rubbed together in an attempt to stimulate her neglected heat. "Bruce," she whined, drool and cum seeping across her body the longer her tongue was out. "Please sir . . . please let me swallow." Bruce reached a hand down between her thighs, his fingers just barely brushing against her cunt.

"There's my good girl. Go ahead, baby, since you asked so nicely."

Y/n pulled her tongue back into her mouth, savoring the taste of the cum that hadn't slipped off her tongue and onto her tits. Bruce pressed firmly on her clit, circling it with broad, slow circles. Y/n whined again, pleading for him to increase his speed. Bruce, tired of her misbehavior, lightly slapped her clit. "Last warning. Either take what I give you, or use your fucking words."

Bruce hovered his hand over her mound, threatening to smack her again should she continue to misbehave. "I-I'm s-sorry sir, I'll be good!" Bruce thought for a moment. "Come to think of it . . . maybe you don't even deserve to cum, huh? Maybe I should just fuck your mouth and not your pretty pussy, leave you squirming, all tied up so you can't touch yourself."

"Is that what you fucking want?" Bruce stroked her lower lips, teasing her by not touching her clit. "No sir!" Y/n furiously shook her head, flexing her hips to try and get Bruce to properly touch her. "I wanna cum! I want you to fuck my pussy, sir! Please!" Bruce leaned down, his forehead pressed against her own. "Then be good."

He punctuated his sentence with a final smack to her clit, rubbing rapid circles against her pearl before she could react. Bruce watched her face, stray tears slipping down her cheeks as her mouth hung open. "How's that feel, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Y/n thrashed in her bindings, rutting her hips against Bruce's skilled hand.

"Ngh~ Feels good, sir! Feels so good!" Y/n huffed, panting as Bruce brought her closer and closer to her first orgasm of the night. Bruce smirked, his pressure and speed increasing ever so slightly, just enough to bring his wife to the brink of climax. Sensing her orgasm, Bruce leaned forwards, catching her lips with his own as his fingers finally pushed Y/n over the edge, never slowing down as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

Once he felt her juices leak Bruce ripped down the red velvet that his her soft mounds from his sight, leaving the ribbon tying her wrists together, doing the same for her legs, untying her knees but leaving her ankles as her pushed her legs apart. He pushed in two long, thick fingers, curling them against that spongy spot inside of Y/n, and watching her every slight reaction.

"Sir, please! I'll be good! I'll be good, just, please!" Y/n begged, her legs spread wide for Bruce, his palm rubbing her clit as his fingers skillfully thrust in and out of her warm, slick walls. "Please what, pretty? What do you need?" Bruce grunted as he kneeled above her, one hand between her thighs, one hand gripping the wooden headboard, the wood lightly splintering from his tight grip.

"I need your cock, sir! Please fuck me already!" Bruce chuckled, feeling her heat squeeze around his fingers. "You want my cock? You want me to fuck you like the little slut you are?" The sound of his palm slapping against Y/n's clit as he finger fucked her filled the room. The sound of Y/n's desperate huffs and moans was like music to his ears, the tears streaming down her face more beautiful than any original in his gallery.

A desperate "Yes sir!" slipping past her lips without her even having to think about it. Bruce smirked, continuing to finger her as he moved his thumb to circle her aching, neglected clit. "Almost pretty, almost. Wanna taste you first." Bruce released the headboard, holding both of her wrists in one, large hand. "Can you be patient for me, baby? Let me taste you?"

Bruce somehow further increased his pace, loud squelches echoing in the large room. "Fuck!" He groaned, feeling Y/n tighten around his fingers once again as she rapidly approached her second orgasm. "Come on, baby! Let me fucking taste you." He continued thrusting his fingers for a few more moments, quickly pulling them out when Y/n whimpered out a "yes, sir".

He let go of her wrists, ripping off his sweat soaked sweater as he moved to lay on his stomach between Y/n's legs. He flattened his tongue, licking a long, firm stripe up her soaking wet cunt. He wrapped his laps around her clit, sucking her nub before releasing with a wet 'pop'.

He lifted her thighs, shoving his tongue into her hole as deep as possible, before replacing it with his fingers. He carefully thrusted his fingers in and out as he returned to sucking her clit, curling them against her g spot as he listened to her moans and cries, the strong suction throwing her over the edge.

He didn't stop as more of her juices coated his chin and fingers, leaking down and soaking the sheets beneath her. He licked up as much of her essence as possible as she eventually came down from her high. Once he was finished, Bruce rose back up on his hands, capturing Y/n's lips with his, letting her taste her own juices on his tongue.

She moaned into his mouth, chasing after him when he inevitably pulled away from her. He shoved his pants down the rest of the way, kicking them across the room, before hovering over Y/n once again, pinning her wrists above her head as he lined his cock up with her hole.

"You want it, baby? You want me to fuck you?" Y/n pulled her lip between her teeth, her eyes magnetized to the space between the two of them. She nodded, whining when Bruce thrusted his cock against her, rather than inside her, selfishly using her slick mound to get himself off. "Look at me," Bruce gave her no time to comply, grabbing her face again as he forced her to keep her eyes on him, his cockhead catching on her clit as he thrust his hips.

"I need a yes or a no, pretty." "Yes!" Y/n's teeth released her lower lip, as she shouted, her skin swollen from the biting and kissing. "Yes, sir! Please, I want it! I want you to fuck me!"

Bruce lined himself back up with her pussy, smirking at her desperate tone as he prepared to penetrate her. "S'all you had to say, baby . . ." Without further warning he thrust his cock inside of her, stilling when he felt her tight walls begin resisting him. He threw his head back, a guttural groan escaping him as he entered his wife's tight walls.

"Shit, baby," He groaned, panting above his wife's body. He grabbed her wrists again, holding them above her head as he slowly began fucking deeper, her hole accepting him little by little, stilling again once he was fully inside her.

"Bruce . . ." Y/n whined, wiggling her hips. "Please, sir, want you to move." Bruce shallowly pumped his hips, his cock brushing against her puckered cervix. He looked down at her face, holding back a laugh when she wriggled and squirmed in his hold. "Sir, please!" She sobbed.

"All right, all right. No more teasing. You remember the word?" Y/n nodded, though, she quickly corrected herself. "Yes, sir, I remember." Bruce leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to her sweaty hearline. "There's my good little slut. M' gonna move now, okay?" He stroked one of her wrists with his thumb. "O-okay," Y/n warbled out, her head rolling forward at the feeling of being stuffed with Bruce's cock.

Bruce pulled his hips away, till only his tip remained inside, before slamming his hips forwards, stealing Y/n's breath from her lungs. His hips pounded hers, the sound of their love a beautiful cacophony that overwhelmed both of their senses. "How's that, baby? That feel good?" Y'n didn't respond, her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling of Bruce's bruising thrusts.

He decided to be nice, continuing his firm movements, encouraged by the little gasps and moans that subconsciously escaped his wife. He made no effort to hold back his own noises, grunting and groaning as he pushed Y/n's knees to her chest, hitting deeper than what would be thought possible.

Bruce held her legs down with one hand, resting some of his weight on her as he continued to fuck her deeply, gripping the headboard again to give himself more leverage. Y/n pressed her hands to his chest, her fingernails digging into his skin. She needed something to keep her tethered to the world as he fucked her. She sobbed whenever he hit a certain spot, and Bruce made sure to brush against it with every thrust.

"That's it, baby! Take it just like that!" He grunted, his strokes firm, yet perfectly angled to hit her sweet spot. He groaned, his hand on the headboard shooting down to rub Y/n's clit again. He felt his own orgasm creeping ever closer as she squeezed his length. "Gonna cum on my cock, huh? Gonna cum on this fucking cock?"

At this point he was talking more to himself, as Y/n was very clearly not entirely all there, drool dripping down the side of her gaping mouth, and her eyes rolled all the way back into her skull. "You're such a perfect little slut for me. Oh, take it, baby."

The wooden headboard slammed against the wall at the force of his thrusts, and if he was less consumed with his wife's tight, wet flesh, he'd be more thankful that he'd had all of the rooms in the manor soundproofed. Nevertheless, he groaned, his blood running hot as he felt Y/n dig her nails into his skin, deep enough to leave angry, red crescents.

"That's it, that's it, that's it," He chanted, his fingers slicked with Y/n's juices as he circled her clit. "That's it, baby, cum on my cock!" Y/n sobbed, juices gushing around Bruce's cock as her walls gripped him, almost refusing to let him pull out, not that he wanted to. Part of this gift was going to be the feeling of his wife's warm pussy as he came inside her.

He wasn't too far behind her, the muscles in his thighs and calves tightening as he fucked Y/n's cervix, his cock twitching inside her as hot, white cum gushed out around his shaft. He slowly fucked Y/n, his thrusts becoming shallow as he cahased his high. He let her legs drop, massaging them as the blood slowly started to return.

Once he caught his breath, he pulled the bow tying her wrists together, raising his hand to her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as he once again rested his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a moment. "How . . ." he cleared his throat, his voice slightly hoarse.

"How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?" He slid his fingers into Y/n's hair, gently massaging her scalp as he spoke. In turn, she ran her hands across his chest and shoulders, massaging his traps. "No," Y/n shook her head. "I feel good. How about you, how do you feel?" Bruce dropped his head to rest in the crook between her neck and shoulder, kissing her sensitive skin.

"Mm," He ran his hand over her side, inhaling her natural scent. "Good." Y/n smiled, wrapping her arms around Bruce's shoulders and pulling him down, encouraging him to relax and drop his weight. He did just that, though, he still held himself up with his elbows, careful not to crush his wife.

He dug one arm under her, scooping her up and rolling over to his side, so she was laid across his chest. She giggled, resting her head against her husband's strong body. "Did you enjoy your gift?" She looked up at him with warm eyes and a tired smile.

"I did," Bruce smiled down at her, his expression mirroring hers. "Did you?" She leaned up, pressing a sweet, short kiss to his lips. "I loved it." She whispered, her throat a bit sore. Nothing some tea with honey and lemon couldn't fix in the morning. "Wanna take a bath?" Bruce asked, stroking Y/n's bare shoulder as she sleepily drew circles on his chest. "In a minute."

Bruce nodded, exhaustion overtaking his massive frame. He played with his wife's hair as she drifted into slumber on his chest. He basked in the glow of their love, a warm, sappy feeling swirling around inside him and squeezing his heart. He would wake her later, letting her sleep peacefully, for now.

[xxmrs-waynexx]

Stressed

Bruce x wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT, minors dni

Summary: Bruce came back from his mission in need of stress relief

—

You stepped through you bedroom door and immediately let the heavy spruce shut behind you. You’d been so exhausted since before the sun had even risen. And of course your husband was still busy. Daytime took Bruce from you but nighttime took Batman. Either way, for a moment, it was quiet. No work, no stress, nothing. Just you, sitting on the bed taking deep breaths. You would've called it meditation if you had been able to relax fully.

Your moment was ruined by the doors slamming open and shut followed by a harsh, teeth clashing kiss. You didn’t get the chance to ask what was wrong or why Bruce had barged in so suddenly and still in his Batsuit.

The next thing you knew, your hips were being bruised at an alarming rate by your husband, slamming into you with no words. Just grunts, pants, and deep moans. Of course, you didn’t mind. In fact, you enjoyed every bit of it. You praised him as both of your appearances became disheveled and ruined. You weren't sure where either of your clothes had ended up. You moaned out his name as the bed creaked, tangling your fingers in his sweaty hair. He must've tossed his cowl and cape aside somewhere. You gripped Bruce's muscular arms as you felt her body tighten around his.

It didn’t take long for his sexually frustrated sounds to push you over the edge. You came undone with your back arched and hair a mess.

But Bruce wasn’t done. He fucked you even harder, deeper than he had just a moment ago. "Fuck-" he panted, "I'm almost there, hold on for me."

You were incredibly sensative but you knew he always took great care of you afterwards.

After a few more harsh thrusts, he gripped you even tighter and came into you. He nearly collapsed onto you but held himself up, catching his breath.

You, equally (if not more) exhausted, reached up and held his jaw, "I love you... are you okay?"

Bruce nodded, kissing your forehead. "Are you?" he smirked.

[geowrites03]

Fear Toxin pt.1

Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader

Summary: Batman gets himself in a bit of a risky situation, Batwoman, his wife, decides to swoop in but Bruce doesn’t like the fact that she would risk her life for his in a matter of seconds. Now she has to face the consequences of rushing into a fight with Scarecrow.

“What on earth was that?” I look at him blankly not wanting to feed into him by answering. He shakes his head look down on me with his dark blue eyes, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed out there!”

I sniffle and look down at our feet. His legs in front of mine look so much larger, it turns me on to think about our bodies such different builds. He gently puts his hand under my chin and lifts my face to look him in his eyes once more.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling, but why would you put yourself in so much danger like that? I mean it’s the Scarecrow god knows what new toxin he has under his belt.” Tears silently falling down my cheeks, I swallow and try to answer but no words come out, instead a choked sob. He wipes my tears and wraps his arms around me. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

“I- I don’t know, I thought he had you. I thought he was gonna kill you, so I swooped in to try and help. I’m so sorry for being an inconvenience.” I sobbed into his shoulder as he rubs my back.

“Oh. Honey, I never thought of you as an inconvenience. What makes you think that?” He runs his hands through my hair as my sobs quieten down and my breathing regulates.

“It’s just you seem so mad at me.” I snuggle into his shoulder to hide my face. He holds me just as tight and continues to stroke my hair.

“I’m not mad at you, I was just confused and frustrated on why you would put yourself in harms way.” He lifts me off of the ground with ease, with this movement I wrap my legs around his waist. One of his hands moves to my lower back for support as we move to the bed. “I’m sorry for making you upset, so sorry honey. Why don’t we curl up and watch a movie? Hmm?”

I nod and he plops me down onto the bed, then climbs in next to me. He wraps his muscly arms around my waist and pulls us closer to each other, he only moves one arm to grab the tv remote. He switches on Netflix and goes to my watch list. “Why don’t we clear this out while we have this time?”

I nod and point to a random movie in the list not trusting my voice anymore tonight, especially with this close proximity. He chuckles and puts the movie on. He starts playing with my hair.

The movie starts and I look up at his face through my lashes. “You’re pretty.” My voice cracks while speaking but I don’t care and continue to look at his face rather than the movie.

“You’re missing the movie hun.” He chuckled and kissed my forehead. I giggle and smile at him, he smiles back down at me but his smile doesn’t stop stretching. His smile twists and grows into something wicked.

I back away from him on the bed but with his smile practically touching his eyes he inches closer.

Bruce’s POV~

She panted heavily while trying to back away. “Y/n? Honey? Are you okay?” I try to get a look at her eyes and they seem dilated and red, fuck some sort of fear toxin’s in her system.

“Get back!” She screams before backing away further and falling off the side of the bed. I try to help her up but she runs away into a corner of the room. “Honey, come on you can fight this, it’s just a bit of toxin. I am not trying to hurt you, my dove.”

She collapsed to her knees while her hands tugged and gripped at her hair not daring to let go. I successfully got her hands away from her hair so I could push it back. I wiped the sweat and tears from her face and kissed her lips as I got a syringe with sedatives and an antidote. As she was distracted with the kiss I pierced the skin of her neck and injected the liquid in. She squealed and tried to wriggle when the syringe pierced her skin but she soon settled and passed out.

A/n: I’m going to turn this into 2, possibly 3 parts rather than have it all in 1. (the reason for this is because i was writing it on the ao3 website and the formatting was pissing me off)

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.

Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.

Word count: 3,8k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.

From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.

While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.

Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.

Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.

Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.

Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.

But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.

Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.

After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. — Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.

After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.

Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.

When he went to the streets, it just got worse.

Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.

When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.

Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.

On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.

It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.

Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.

Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.

After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.

After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.

He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.

— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.

— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.

— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.

And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.

He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.

While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.

He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.

— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?

His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?

— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.

— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.

Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.

Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.

— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.

Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.

— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.

— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.

— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.

— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.

Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.

— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?

Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.

— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.

Why did it make him feel weird?

— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.

— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.

— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.

— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.

Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.

— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.

— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.

— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.

Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.

It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.

— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.

— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.

As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?

The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.

— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.

— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.

— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.

— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.

— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.

— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.

— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.

Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.

While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures. 

It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can. 

That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.

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@wandalfnation

[skyeconch]

[Batmom!reader trying to mend Jason and Bruce’s relationship]

Batmom!reader : oh, please put the dish right here, Alfred—

Bruce, walks in : darling— what is this?

Batmom!reader : what does it look like? Trying to fix your problems for you, honey

Bruce : by what— dinner??

Batmom!reader, standing in front of him : it’s certainly have to start somewhere. And coincidentally meeting during fighting crime is hardly a proper reunion, honey

Bruce, sighs : darling, I appreciate all the efforts you put in for this. But what makes you think he’s going to listen?

Batmom!reader, smirks : well, it’s a good thing that our son likes one of us, isn’t it?

Bruce : . . .

Batmom!reader : now please, go and make yourself look decent. I want to see my husband, and our son as our son and my husband— not Batman and Red Hood at the dining table.

Bruce : what, you intend to have him over for dinner like a son that’s just returned from college to reunite with his parents? Not even you can fix a broken family, [NAME].

Batmom!reader : excuse me?

Bruce, immediately regretting it : (oh shit—)

Batmom!reader, sighs : I know that you’re nervous, I am too. But if we don’t, we’ll lose him forever— we’ve given a second chance, Bruce. Let’s not throw it away.

Batmom!reader, hands on hips : now are you going to help me or what?

Bruce : ..I would do anything that you would ask of me.

Batmom!reader : good!（*＾ワ＾*）

Batmom!reader, kissed his cheek : now get your ass in the shower, you’re stinking up the food! (•̀⤙•́)

Bruce : yes, ma’am

[charlotteking23]

Forgotten Lunch (Bruce Wayne x Wife! Reader)

You were driving in the car, with a sack lunch in the passenger street. Bruce had forgotten to take his lunch and being a thoughtful wife decided to bring it to him.

You were excited you rarely went to Wayne Enterprise because your job hours were the same as Bruce's. You had a day off, and right after you dropped his lunch, you were going to the nail salon.

You parked the car towards the back having less of a hassle to find a spot. Walking in you were immediately greeted by some of the employees who recognized you and saw them pointing at you, but you didn't mind being used to it.

The sound of your high heels echoes through the lobby towards the receptionist. The lady looked up, you could tell she seemed shy. "Hello, I was wondering if Mr.Wayne was in any meeting right now", You said softly. "No, Ma'am, Mr Wayne should be expecting you", she said carefully, scared she might say something wrong. You nodded at her and thanked her as you walked towards the elevator.

When the elevator opened you were surprised to see a lady being rude to the employees. Before you could say something the rude lady saw you and pulled you by the arm making your back slam against the wall. Oh hell no you thought This lady must really want an ass kicking.

"I am Miranda, the Wayne Enterprises manager, which means I ensure, no new employees cause any trouble", Miranda said in a snooty tone. Before I could slap this bitch she looked me up and down in disgust was, this bitch. "Who are you trying to impress with all that makeup and this dress, here we have a standard procedure of no makeup and uniform", that bitch Miranda says as rudely as possible.

"Say that to all that cake-on makeup you have on your face, who are you trying to impress?" you said as you inspected her horrifying face wishing you brought your channel sunglasses. Trying to divert the attention off of her she commented on my food. "Who made that the rat", Miranda said as if it was even a good comeback. "No, but even a rat can make better food than you", you replied fed up with this girl's behavior.

But again this bitch just keeps on talking, you were about to take your louis vuitton high heel off and stab her eye with it but then it would be a waste of a good heel. "What can you do? you are just a lowly employee", Miranda says with such confidence. "Miranda-", Bruce says but was cut off by the wicked witch of the west(Miranda). " Oh Mr. Wayne it's good to see you", Miranda said in a flirty tone. It's funny how fast that girl switches up when my man comes.

"Miranda!", Bruce yelled stopping Miranda in shock. "This lowly employee you spoke to was my wife", Bruce said with a stern tone not taking shit from anybody. This was a complete shock to Miranda as she started to stutter, "I-I-I didn't know I am so sorry Mr and Mrs Wayne", red in the checks from being embarrassed by the mistake.

"I don't care Miranda this is not the first time I've heard complaints like these before I decided to not do anything because of how dedicated you were but now that has changed", Bruce said with anger in his eyes. "What do you mean s-sir", Miranda said as if she was going to cry. "You are fired, I suggest you pack your things now or I will call security", Bruce said as calmly as he could but anger shown in his eyes. Miranda ran away as fast as possible, away from the peering eyes.

Bruce was quick to apologize to all the employees who were tormented by Miranda, knowing Bruce he probably promised something really expensive for them to take as an apology.

Bruce then looks at his wife taking her by the hand and leading her to the office. "Are you okay? what are you doing here? Do you want some water or anything?", Bruce said scanning Me from head to toe making sure there were no injuries. "I came to drop off your lunch you forgot to bring", you said smiling up at Bruce. All he could do was laugh and talk to you for the remainder of the time til he had to return to work.

"You know Mr.Wayne", you said holding his hand as he walked with you towards the car." What Mrs.Wayne?" He said playfully. "You were really hot when you were taking charge", you said fanning yourself. "Maybe I should do that more often" Bruce said, cupping your checks and giving you a peck on the lips. "Definitely," you said as you pulled him back giving him a passionate kiss on his lips.

[bat-mom-writer]

End of Terror

Reader(Wife) X Bruce Wayne/Batman(husband)

Summery: You're terrified of the 'Batman', even though he is your husband. Dick, Jason, and Tim think it's time for you to face your fears. But their plan fails when you start crying.

If you you're more into being a badass and not being scared of Batman, check out Beneath the Cowl.

Rating: Sad, Bruce comfort, happy ending

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

"No, no, no, absolutely not," You insisted, your heart racing at the mere suggestion. "You guys can't be serious."

Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian stared at you with a mix of amusement and curiosity, their eyes gleaming with mischief. It was one of those moments when you know your family is about to pull a fast one on you.

"Come on," Dick said with a grin, his voice light and teasing. "You're married to Bruce. Surely you've picked up some courage along the way."

"Courage doesn't come with the wedding vows," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady. The thought of facing Batman, the caped crusader himself, filled you with a mix of awe and dread. Despite being a part of the Wayne family and knowing the man behind the mask, the legend of Batman was something you had never quite gotten used to. You felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead.

"But think about it," Jason chimed in, a devilish glint in his eye. "It'll be good for you. Like…therapy."

The idea was ludicrous, but something about their enthusiasm made you consider it for a moment. Maybe facing your fear would help you understand Bruce's world better, or at least stop you from jumping at shadows every time he came home from a night out. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within you.

"Or," you began, weighing your words carefully, "we could just…not. I mean, I'm happy being the supportive wife and loving mother figure, behind the scenes. You guys are the ones with the cool gadgets and fighting skills." You tried to laugh it off, but the nervousness was evident in your voice.

But before you could say another word, Jason, ever the impulsive one, swooped in and picked you up, lifting you off the ground with surprising ease. "Nope, you're not getting out of it that easily," he said, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

You squealed, a mix of surprise and protest escaping you as he playfully hoisted you over his shoulder. The room spun slightly, and you felt your cheeks flush with a combination of embarrassment and the rush of adrenaline. "Jason, put me down!" You squirmed, trying to regain your footing, but his grip was firm.

Tim and Dick exchanged knowing looks, and you could see the silent agreement passing between them. They weren't about to let you back out of this. "To the batcave," Dick announced with a dramatic flourish, and you felt your stomach drop.

Jason carried you down the hidden staircase, his steps sure and swift. The walls of the passageway whizzed by, and the cold concrete felt like it was closing in on you. The dim light from the glowing Bat-symbols inlaid in the floor was the only guide as you descended deeper into the heart of the mansion's secret.

"Okay! Okay, hear me out," you called out, trying to keep the panic from seeping into your voice. "What if I just watch from a safe distance?"

"No can do," Dick said, his tone firm yet kind. "You're going to face your fear, head-on."

You felt a lump form in your throat as Jason finally set you down on the cold, hard floor of the Batcave. The sight of the sleek, state-of-the-art vehicles and the iconic Batsuit was overwhelming. You had been here before, of course, but it had always been Bruce's domain, a place where you felt more like a guest than a participant. "It's your husband for Pete's sake," Tim said, his voice a mix of understanding and challenge. "You've got this." Jason released you with a playful pat on the back that almost sent you stumbling forward.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, your eyes darting around the room for an escape. "You know what," you began, your voice a little shaky, "I think I left something in the oven." It was a feeble excuse, but desperation made it sound like the most reasonable thing in the world to your ears. You took a step back toward the stairs, hoping to make a break for it before they could react.

But they were quicker than you. Tim stepped in front of you, blocking your path. "We're not letting you back out now," he said, "You can do this."

Jason took a step closer and gently but firmly pushed you toward the central bat computer where Bruce often sat. The chair looked massive and intimidating, a symbol of the burden your husband carried every night. "You're part of this family," he said, his tone softening. "You need to see that Batman isn't just some boogeyman. He's one of us."

"Guys, I don't think this is a good idea," you repeated, your voice quieter now. "This is already embarrassing."

"Don't worry," Tim reassured you with a gentle smile. "We'll be right beside you the whole time."

"That doesn't make it any less embarrassing," you muttered under your breath.

"Hey Bruce!" Dick called out, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.

You froze, your eyes widening with horror. Oh no, they weren't actually going to do this.

Bruce looked up from his chair, the bat-computer screens flickering in the background casting shadows on his face, making him look more like the Dark Knight than your loving husband. He studied you with a furrowed brow, his eyes searching for signs of distress. "What's this?" he asked, his voice deep.

The boys exchanged glances, their expressions a blend of excitement and trepidation. "We thought it was time," Dick began, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, "for her to get up close and personal with the man of the house."

Jason's arms remained wrapped around your shoulders, holding you in place. Your lips were pressed tightly together, a silent protest to the situation. You could feel the tension in your body, a fight or flight response ready to kick in at any moment. The room felt too small, the walls closing in on you.

"What's going on?" Batman repeated, his tone deep and commanding, which did absolutely nothing to soothe your racing heart. The intensity in his eyes, usually reserved for the criminals he faced, was now focused solely on you.

"We just…we thought it would be good for her to get to know you, you know, the other side of you," Tim stammered, clearly nervous.

Your nose flared and your chest rose and fell rapidly as Batman took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. You could feel his eyes on you, analyzing, calculating. It was the same look he gave to criminals he had cornered in a dark alley, and it was terrifying.

"Darling?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Your eyes watered out of fear, the masked figure before you a stark reminder of the world you had married into. The mask that Batman donned every night was a symbol of the darkness he faced, a world you had only glimpsed from the safety of the manor. The reality was so much more intense than you had ever allowed yourself to imagine.

"It's okay," Dick said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You're not in danger. He's just trying to help you."

But the words didn't penetrate the fear that had taken root in your chest. You realized, too late, that this was a mistake. A terrible, horrifying mistake. You allowed yourself to be talked into facing your fear, and now you were standing before the very embodiment of it. You felt like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to look away from the intimidating figure that was both your protector and your terror.

You let out a small, fearful whimper. The sound was barely audible over the hum of the Batcave's machinery, but the boys heard it, their expressions shifting from excitement to concern. "Oh no, what have we done?" Tim whispered to Dick.

As the tears began to fall, the boys' reactions were immediate. Dick's hand squeezed your shoulder tighter, his eyes filled with regret. "Hey, it's okay, we're sorry," he said, his voice genuine.

Jason took a step back, his arms falling to his sides. "Shit, we didn't mean to scare you like this," he says, his smugness replaced with a look of contrition.

Batman took a step closer, his hand reaching for the cowl that covered his head, he lifted the mask away, revealing his face. The stark contrast between the Batman and the man you knew and loved was jarring, but somehow, seeing his eyes, his real eyes, filled with warmth and love, made you feel a little less afraid.

"It's okay," Bruce said, his voice softer now, "I'm right here."

He took a step closer, his hand outstretched, his hands comes to your trembling arm. The warmth of his touch was reassuring, grounding you in reality amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. He pulled you into his arms, and you buried your face in his chest, crying into the fabric of his Batsuit. The material was tough and unyielding, but the embrace was anything but. You could feel the tension in his muscles as he held you tightly, offering you the safety and comfort you desperately needed.

"I'm sorry," you managed to whisper between sobs. "I just can't do this."

Bruce's arms tightened around you, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. "It's okay," he murmured. "It's alright to be scared." His voice was soothing, the gentle rumble of it vibrating through his chest and into yours, providing a comfort that was as familiar as it was surprising in this alien environment.

He narrowed his eyes at the boys, his gaze stern as he took in their concerned expressions. With covering your ear, his voice gets low, dangerously low that he feared might scare you even more. "What were you thinking?" He whispers to them.

Dick, Jason, and Tim all looked at Bruce apologetically. "We just… we wanted to help," Dick said, his voice low. "We didn't mean to make it like this."

"Well, you've made your point," Bruce said, his voice firm but not unkind. He looked at the three of them over your head, his eyes speaking volumes of his disappointment. "We'll talk about this later. Leave."

The boys nodded, their heads drooping as they retreated up the stairs, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the cavernous space. Once they were gone, Bruce turned his full attention to you, gently lifting your chin so he could look into your eyes. "It's alright. I got you," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I'm sorry they put you through this."

You took another shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "I'm sorry for being such a big scaredy cat," you whispered, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. "I'm afriad of my husband in a costume." Tears of embarrassment joined fear, making your eyes burn.

Bruce's expression softened further, his hand stroking your hair. "You're not a scaredy cat," he said firmly. "You're human. And it's okay to be scared sometimes."

He stepped back and gestured to the chair he had been sitting in. "Why don't you sit down?" he offered, his voice gentle. "Let's talk about this."

You nodded and took a tentative step toward the chair, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on your shoulders. As you sat, Bruce knelt down in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, right?" he asked, his voice steady and calm.

You nodded again, sniffling. "I know," you said, your voice shaky. "But it's just…the mask,"

"The mask is just a tool," Bruce said, his voice gentle. "It's just something I wear to keep the people I care about safe."

You took a deep, trembling breath and nodded, trying to convince yourself of the truth in his words. "I know that," you said, "but it's like…it's a part of you that I've never really seen before."

Bruce's gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. "And that scares you?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the admission. "It's just so…intimidating. You're so powerful, so strong. It's like you're a different person when you wear it."

Bruce took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "Do you want to try it?" he asked, his voice tentative.

You blinked in surprise, pulling back slightly. "What?"

Bruce nodded towards the Batsuit, hanging ominously on the mannequin nearby. "Do you want to try on the cowl?" he clarified, his voice still gentle. "Maybe it will help you understand, or at least face your fear."

You stared at the mask, the symbol of the man who had sworn to protect Gotham. Your heart was still racing, but curiosity began to edge out the fear. "I don't know," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

"You don't have to," Bruce said, his voice soothing. "But if you want to, I'll be right here."

You took a deep breath, your eyes locked on the cowl. It was an eerie sight, a stark reminder of the fearsome figure he transformed into when the night called. But it was also a symbol of hope, of the man who had sworn to keep the city safe. With a trembling exhale you nod.

Bruce carefully lifted the mask from the mannequin's head and held it out to you. It was surprisingly light, the fabric cool against your skin as you took it from him.

"Just hold it for a minute," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. You took the cowl, feeling the weight of the material in your hands. The symbol of the bat was stark against the black, the pointed ears standing tall and ominous.

You studied it, your heart racing, and took a deep breath. "Did you know I had a thought to not put the ears on it?" Bruce asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. You looked up at him, puzzled. "When I first started out," he explained, "I thought maybe it was going to make me look ridiculous."

The thought made you smile despite yourself. The idea of Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy and the man you loved, worrying about looking ridiculous was almost endearing. "But it worked," you said, your voice still a little shaky.

"It did," he agreed, his smile widening slightly. "But it's a reminder that even the biggest fears can be conquered. Sometimes, all it takes is a change in perspective."

With trembling hands, you slowly lifted the cowl to your face, the cool fabric brushing against your cheeks. You felt his hands gently guide it into place, the softness of the material surprising you. The room went dark, before returning once the eye holes aligned with your sight. Your breathing hitched as you felt the mask settle around your head, the weight of the iconic symbol suddenly resting on your shoulders.

"How do I look?" you managed to ask, your voice muffled by the cowl.

"Just like you," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion. "But with a touch of badass."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, despite the fear still bubbling in your stomach. The mask was surprisingly comfortable, the material molding to your face as if it had been made just for you. The room looked the same, but through the eyes of the cowl, it felt…different. More intimidating, yet strangely empowering.

You took a deep breath, feeling the material shift with you as you inhaled. It was eerily quiet, the muffled sounds of the Batcave around you making the room feel even more vast. You looked down at Bruce, who was still kneeling before you, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of distress.

"Do you want me to take it off?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You shook your head, surprised by your own determination. "No," you said. "It's…interesting."

Bruce chuckled, a sound that seemed to resonate through the cave. "Does it help that I think you look adorable?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "The ears look more like a rabbit's than a bat's."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. "Thanks," you smile. "I'll be sure to strike fear into the hearts of Gotham's criminals with my bunny-like prowess."

Bruce's chuckle grew into a full-blown laugh, and you felt some of your own fear subside. You reached up to adjust the mask, the gesture feeling surprisingly natural. "I guess it's not so scary now that it's on me," you admitted, a hint of wonder in your voice.

Bruce's eyes lit up with understanding. "It's all about perspective," he said, his voice gentle.

You took another deep breath, feeling the mask mold to the contours of your face. It was still a bit suffocating, but with each breath, it became a little more comfortable.

"Do you think you're ready to try again?" Bruce asked, his voice steady and reassuring. "With me wearing the cowl?"

You took a moment to consider it, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. You knew he wouldn't push you, but the look in his eyes, a mix of hope and understanding, made you want to try. You nodded slowly, your heart hammering in your chest. "Okay," you whispered.

Bruce took the mask from you, his movements deliberate and gentle. "I'll put it on slowly," he said, "so you can get used to the feeling. But if you get to scared, just tell me and I'll take it off."

You nodded, watching as he placed the cowl back on his head, his eyes meeting yours as he aligned the eyeholes. The mask only covered the top half of his face, leaving the bottom half exposed. It was a strange sight, seeing Bruce with one half of his face hidden in the shadows of the bat, the other half open and vulnerable.

"How do I look?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled since only half his head was though.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sight was so absurd. "Not scary," you said, a smile on your lips that felt surprisingly genuine, warming Bruce's heart. "Just… really, really weird."

Bruce chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I suppose it's not everyone's cup of tea," he said, "But how do you feel?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts. The mask was definitely a bit much, but with Bruce's kind eyes looking back at you, it was less terrifying and more…odd. "I can handle it," you said, trying to sound braver than you felt.

Bruce nodded, his eyes still on yours as he lifted the cowl completely over his head. The transformation was instantaneous. The gentle, loving husband was replaced by the imposing figure of the Dark Knight. Your heart raced as he kneeled before you, the mask hiding his features but not the concern in his posture.

"Knock knock," Bruce said suddenly.

You blinked, realizing he was waiting for your response. You managed a small laugh. "Who's there?"

"Waddle," Bruce's voice was hiding a smile.

You frowned, not quite understanding the joke. "Waddle who?"

Bruce's chuckle, but the twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable. "Waddle it take for you to open the door?"

You couldn't help but smile at the corny joke, the tension in the room easing just a bit. "Very funny, Mr. Wayne," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bruce stood up, the Batsuit seeming to swallow him whole. He towered over you, the mask now fully in place. You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself that it was still Bruce under there, that he wasn't going to harm you.

"I can take it off if want me to," he said, his voice now a low rumble. The sound was unmistakable, the same one that had sent so many criminals fleeing in terror. But here, in the quiet of the Batcave, it was almost…comforting.

You swallowed hard, taking another deep breath. "No," you said, your voice stronger than before. "It's alright."

Bruce took your hand in his, the touch sending a warm sensation through your trembling fingers. "I'm very proud of you," he said, his voice a comforting rumble. "You're doing really good."

You nodded, trying to believe him. The mask was still a daunting presence, but with each second that passed, it became less terrifying and more… familiar. You took a tentative step closer, looking up into the shadowy eyes of the cowl. "It's just a mask," you murmured, trying to convince yourself.

"Tell me when," Bruce said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air around you.

You took a deep breath and nodded, your heart racing. "Could you…?" you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.

Without another word, Bruce reached up and began to lift the cowl off his head, revealing his face inch by inch. The shadows danced across his features, the stark contrast between the darkness of the mask and the warmth of his skin making your breath hitch in your throat.

As the mask came away, you could see the concern in his eyes, the furrow in his brow smoothing out as he searched yours for any sign of fear. But there was something else there, too. Pride. You had faced your fear, even if just for a moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his hand still holding the cowl.

You nodded, the reality of the situation setting in. You had just faced the symbol of your fear and lived to tell the tale. "Yeah," you said, your voice a little more steady, "I think so."

Bruce's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your palm. "You did really good," he repeated, his voice a warm rumble of approval. It was strange to hear such gentle words coming from the man you knew as the Dark Knight. But here, in the dimly lit confines of the Batcave, the mask had become less a barrier and more a bridge between the two of you.

You took a moment to collect yourself, feeling the adrenaline slowly seep away. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice still a little shaky. "I'm sorry I couldn't… go longer."

Bruce's grip on your hand tightened reassuringly. "It's okay," he said, his voice gentle. "This isn't something you can just rush." He stepped closer, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the coldness of the cowl. "But you took the first step. That's all that matters."

You looked up into his eyes, the blue of his gaze piercing through the fear that had clouded them moments before. "I just…I didn't know it would be so hard," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not supposed to be easy," Bruce said, his thumb still tracing circles on your palm. "But you did it. And that's all that matters."

You nodded, feeling a swell of emotion in your chest. "Thank you," you murmured, the words feeling inadequate for the gratitude you felt. "For understanding."

Without another word, Bruce pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in a warm, strong hug. The smell of the Batsuit, a mix of leather and something faintly metallic, washed over you. But it was his arms around you, the steady beat of his heart, that made you feel safe.

He kissed the side of your head. It was a gentle, reassuring gesture that spoke volumes. "That's what I'm here for," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble in your ear.

[streetlamp-amber]

can we just stay in bed? (18+)

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 2.8k | divider by @cafekitsune | requests are open!

CW: smut (MDNI), p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), soft sex NOTES: i usually don’t write soft smut like this so i don’t really know if i’m 100% satisfied with this or not but i still wanted to share, let me know your thoughts :)

The joyful singing of the birds in the forest surrounding Wayne Manor could be heard from miles away as the sun was rising over the treetops, marking the beginning of a new day in Gotham. A lone ray of sunshine made its way through the gap between the two curtains hung over the window of you and Bruce's bedroom, illuminating the darkness with a soft golden glow.

Today was Saturday, meaning you didn't have work waiting for you or school to drive Dick and Jason to. The only plan on the schedule this morning was to sleep in, even for Alfred.

But your husband had other plans.

Bruce woke up on his own, his body was now used to being up early to make sure the boys had completed all of their homework before dropping them off at school. He was laying on his back with your head nestled in the crook of his neck, your hot breath fanning over his skin at a gentle rhythm while your arm and leg were hooked around him, keeping your body flushed against his. A grateful, satisfied smile formed on Bruce’s lips as he hugged you closer to him and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. He loved waking up with you in his arms, it was his favourite part of the day – when all his worries about Gotham were still dormant in the back of his mind, when he could bask in the peacefulness of the morning with your steady breathing reminding him how lucky he was that you were so much of a hothead, you had him pull over on the side of the road to reprimand his reckless driving when he almost rear ended your car. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, because your anger and your indifference to his celebrity status had already caught his heart right then and there, the fact that you were breathtakingly beautiful was only a plus. Six years had passed since then and Bruce had tried his best to remain on your good side in that time, but it happened sometimes that you let out your anger on him – like when he let Dick patrol with him for the first time. He found that he was still as captivated and enamoured with you as he was when the two of you first met, you’re just so hot when you’re angry, he can’t help it.

Overcome with the love he held for you, Bruce started peppering soft, barely-there kisses on your cheek, your nose, your jaw and your neck, moving you to lay on your back as he did so for him to have better access to your skin. His gentle touches pulled you out of your slumber and you stretched out your limbs, your husband never relenting with his affections.

“Good morning, my love,” Bruce whispered in between kisses on your throat.

You giggled, the softness of his lips tickling you. “Good morning,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck while his held you tight under your back. You turned your head to glance at the digital clock on your bedside table, noticing the time displayed in red light. “Isn’t it too early to be awake on a Saturday morning?”

“What time is it?” Bruce asked as he comfortably laid on you, his face now resting in the crook of your neck.

“Ten past seven,” you answered, your hands finding their way to your husband’s hair. Your fingers threaded through his soft waves and you felt him hum in satisfaction against you.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” he weakly argued, eyes closing as your scent comforted him.

“Bruce, I can literally feel your breathing slowing down like it does when you fall asleep,” you chuckled.

“Then we should do something to stay awake and enjoy these minutes of peace we have that are oh so rare,” Bruce suggested with an impish tone.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, “we haven't made blueberry waffles in quite some time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stood up above you, trapping you under his body with his elbows resting on both sides of your head. “Can we just stay in bed?” He asked, his crooked grin on his lips as he leaned down, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“And do what?” You feigned innocence, but your husband knew you too well – he had known you for more than six years after all, he liked to think he knew you more than he knew himself – and the mischievousness in your eyes didn't go past him.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” Bruce said before claiming your lips with his. You breathed a sigh of relief that he absorbed and he placed himself in between your legs.

He stood up after a minute for the both of you to get some air and teasingly tugged at the hem of your shirt (which really was one of his old Princeton shirts from his university days). “I think it's not fair I’m the only one who's bare chest,” he said, raising the shirt just above your bellybutton.

“I think you make a compelling argument, Mr. Wayne,” you playfully agreed then removed said shirt, throwing it on the floor.

Bruce didn’t waste any second, immediately peppering your chest with kisses the moment your skin was freed from your clothes. You relaxed into your pillow, enjoying the attention your husband was giving to every inch of your body. He took his time to savour your taste and you let him. There was no rushing this morning, only the two of you in your bubble of love where time and the outside world didn’t exist.

He nipped his teeth all over your chest, leaving soft bite marks in his trail, and sucked on your nipples, his hand massaging your boob his mouth wasn’t currently attached to.

“Bruce…” You mewled after he spent five minutes on each of your breasts, only now beginning his slow descent down your stomach. Ten minutes of working you up had you now very impatient and wanting for more.

“Patience, my love,” Bruce said against your skin, getting closer to where you needed him most. “We’re taking it slow this morning, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Mmm, I know of two certain boys who will be knocking at our door in less than an hour to see if you’re awake so you can watch the morning cartoons with them,” you argued, raising up your hips when he started leaving kisses on the inside of your right thigh.

“That won’t be a problem,” your husband reassured you before claiming your clit in his mouth, making you squeal in surprise. “Good thing I had the walls of our bedroom soundproofed,” he paused his sucking on your bundle of nerves to tease you with a grin on his shiny lips.

You glared at him, unamused, which made him chuckle at your cute face and he quickly kissed your thigh before going back to his previous task. He lapped the slick in between your folds like a man who had spent fourteen days in the desert and was drinking water for the first time. His tongue teased your entrance before diving in, grunting in pleasure when your hips bucked up closer to him, making his nose brush against your clit. Bruce could never get tired of you, of your taste, of the sounds you made because of him. It spurred him on and for the time being, his only purpose in life was to satisfy you.

He couldn’t even begin to explain the control you had over him, the way you guided him through this life like a lighthouse in a storm. He was putty in your hands, has been ever since the two of you met, and he knew very well how lost he would be without you. Yeah, he would be financially secured thanks to his family, but in every other aspect of his life, even as Batman, he wouldn’t be who he was today without you. And Bruce, who had never really been good at vocally expressing his feelings, would let you know how thankful he was to have you in his life the way he knew best: by pleasuring you to completion like no other person ever has before because no one has taken the time to learn every single reaction of your body like he had.

“Bruce…” you whined as your hand tugged at his hair. You needed more, you needed more than just his tongue inside of you so you pulled him up by the head, bringing him to your level, and attached your lips to his, tasting yourself on him, while your legs wound around his waist. You felt his hard cock brushing against your center through the fabric of his boxers and jolted at the slight pressure applied on your clitoris.

The two of you slowly and messily made out, Bruce’s right hand holding your cheek and his left one clutching onto your hip. Your hands had found their way to the waistband of his boxers, trying to pull them down to get what you wanted. Bruce helped you, his left hand leaving your hip to remove the only item of clothing still on, his mouth never detaching from yours as he did so.

Once fully nude, Bruce retracted from you, standing on his knees before dipping his fingers between your folds to gather some of your wetness and rub it over his dick. You watched him with anticipation, the sight before you something you could never get tired of. Your husband was straight out of a dream and, still to this day, you’d pinch yourself sometimes to make sure you were awake, that this was your life.

That somehow, Bruce Wayne fell in love with you.

But he was also so different from how he presented himself to the media, to the public, that sometimes you forgot you married the Bruce Wayne, heir to the powerful Wayne family, prince of Gotham. To you, he was just your silly husband who was incredibly hot and put everybody else before him.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bruce brushed the tip of his cock against the lips of your pussy. “I hope I’m not too much of a bore, darling,” he said, a teasing undertone lacing his words.

“No, just admiring the view and how lucky I am that my husband is so damn hot,” you replied playfully though there were no lies to your answer.

“Clearly you haven’t looked at yourself in the mirror lately babe because I’m the lucky one,” Bruce told you, his eyes confidently holding yours to show how truthful he was. He lined himself with your entrance, his stare never leaving your face so that he could drink in your expressions when he sheathed himself to the hilt inside you.

The two of you groaned in pleasure and Bruce took a moment to bask in your warmth, his eyes roaming all over you.

“Especially when you look so goddamn gorgeous with my cock inside you,” he added onto his previous comment, making you roll your eyes at the machoness of his words.

“Shut up and start moving already,” you chuckled.

“As you wish, my darling,” he leaned down to kiss you again and started rolling his hips to a slow, steady pace.

You wrapped your legs around his waist again while your hands found their place at his nape, scratching his scalp and tugging his hair, making him moan in your mouth. Your tongues danced to the same rhythm as Bruce’s thrusts, the both of you drowning in the feeling of the other.

Sex with Bruce was usually more rapid, more frantic, more bruising, more fiery, and you loved it. You loved how he could make you forget about the gala happening right down the hallway and the handprints he’d unconsciously leave on your hips from his grip. But you also loved when sex with Bruce was languid with no hurry. When one made you forget everything, the other basked you in love and made you feel like you were in a dream.

Bruce’s mouth left yours to trail down your cheek, then your jaw, until it found its place in the crook of your neck. He deposited open mouthed kisses all over your skin, licking it and leaving small nips on it. He easily found the pulse point behind your ear and, knowing you could easily hide that spot, started sucking on it and doubled the pleasure building inside you.

It made your breath hitch and your nails dig in his back muscles, leaving small red crescents on his skin. You felt him smile against your skin, his pride always swelled up to the reactions he was able to pull out of you.

“Mph, you feel so good darling,” Bruce groaned in your ear and kissed it. “You always do.”

“And you make me feel so good baby,” you answered, squeezing your walls around him as you said so.

Bruce’s head appeared in your eyeline again, his famous grin on his lips as his eyes roamed over your face, full of love. “I love you,” he told you.

You were about to say ‘I love you’ back but he didn’t let you, claiming your mouth with his instead to drag you in another make out session. He changed the angle of his hips at the same time and the tip of his dick brushed your G-spot, making you mewl. Bruce’s left hand fell down to the back of your right thigh, gripping it tight as he held it a little higher. It allowed him to go about one more inch further, said spot now being hit with every thrust.

“Oh God, yes,” you freed your mouth from his as your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut due to the pleasure gradually overtaking your senses.

“Look at me, darling,” Bruce asked you and you obeyed, struggling to keep your eyes open as the two of you held eye contact. “Are you close?”

He knew you were, he knew your body like the back of his hand, but he still asked you the question just to be sure.

You couldn’t answer him. Your mouth was in a permanent ‘o’ shape as breathy moans escaped your lips with every thrust and you were unable to focus for more than one second on how to speak. So you nodded your head yes.

Bruce’s hand that held your thigh let it go to instead dip between your legs, easily finding your clit and rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure. He proudly watched as you unravelled beneath him, your orgasm hitting you with full force. As he helped you ride it out, he reached his own climax and fell over you, but still made sure to not put his entire weight on you, as the two of you caught your breath.

Your husband removed himself from inside you and rolled over to lay next to you on his side so he could face you. “I love you,” he said again, kissing your temple covered with a sheen of sweat.

You turned to face him, your hand reaching to hold his cheek as you replied, “I love you”. You kissed him on the lips, this time short and sweet, and Bruce laid on his back so you could snuggle up against him with your head on his chest.

“You know, we should wash up before the boys come knocking on our door,” you said after a few minutes of peace.

“Can we just stay in bed for another minute?” Bruce childishly whined, his fingers brushing up and down your bare bicep.

“You're such a big baby,” you teased him, chuckling.

“Well sorry I’m a little spent from our early morning activity,” he lightheartedly argued.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” you said, rising on your elbows to look over him. “I’m going to the bathroom and I’ll bring back with me a wet cloth for you to wash yourself and then we can cuddle and maybe go back to sleep until Dick and Jason crash through the door to drag you downstairs and watch cartoons. Sounds like a deal?”

“Sounds like a really good deal to me,” Bruce answered, bringing you down to peck your lips before he rested his hands behind his head. “You should come down to the tower next time we’re looking to make a deal with another company.”

“Nah, I’m perfectly fine with leaving all that work to you,” you pecked his lips once again and stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover yourself up. “I’ll be right back,” you said behind your shoulder as you walked towards the bathroom connected to your room.

Bruce didn’t hear you, too preoccupied with staring at your ass to focus on anything else. God, I’m the luckiest man in all of Gotham, he thought to himself before you disappeared through the door frame.

[librababe99]

When They're All Home

Tags: Fluff, Bruce Wayne x Wife Reader, Batkids, Batfamily goodness WC: 910 words Summary: Surrounded by laughter and love, you cherish this fleeting moment of peace, knowing your family is finally home—even if just for tonight.

A/N: Hello! It's been a few weeks since I've last posted. I was feeling very burnt out with writing and didn't feel like I was providing the quality you all deserve. School and life also really started to pick up for me.... Buttttt I hope that this little fluffy one shot makes up for my absence!

| Masterlist |

The halls of Wayne Manor were bustling in a way that hadn’t happened in ages. The grand old house seemed to come alive with the unmistakable hum of voices, footsteps, and laughter—yes, even laughter. The rare symphony of the entire Wayne family being home at once.

You paused at the top of the grand staircase, gazing down as everyone settled in, a soft smile gracing your lips. Bruce came up behind you, placing a warm hand on your back, and for a moment, the two of you watched in contented silence.

“They’re all here,” you murmured, a soft warmth filling your chest. It didn’t happen often, not with the unique and sometimes complicated lives they each led. But tonight? Tonight, they were all home.

“Feels like the old days, doesn’t it?” Bruce whispered back, his deep voice low and gentle in your ear.

“Better,” you replied, eyes still taking in the sight below. Dick was laughing, arm around Tim’s shoulder as he animatedly recounted a story. Jason was by the window, looking like he might want to bolt but staying all the same, an amused smirk as he watched his brothers. Damian, his usual stoic self, pretended not to care but stuck close to you, his hand brushing yours as he leaned on the banister. Even Alfred was here, his dignified smile softened by the rare moment of togetherness.

“I just can’t believe they’re all here. All of them under one roof again.” You leaned into Bruce, letting yourself feel the happiness that filled your heart as you saw each of your boys together.

Downstairs, Dick was the first to catch sight of you both, his grin brightening as he waved you over. “Hey! Are you guys just gonna stand there all night, or are you going to come down and join us?”

Bruce smirked, giving you a look. “Duty calls.”

Hand in hand, the two of you descended the stairs, and as soon as you hit the landing, Dick pulled you both into a bear hug, one arm slung over each of you. "Glad you two decided to grace us with your presence,” he teased.

“Oh, we wouldn't miss this for the world,” you replied, hugging him back tightly. "I’m so glad you’re all here. It feels like…home.”

Jason scoffed from his spot by the window. “Getting sentimental already, huh?” But the hint of a smile softened his usual bravado.

You walked over, gently taking his hand. “If I didn’t know better, Jason, I’d say you missed us.”

He rolled his eyes, but the way he squeezed your hand back let you know he felt it, too. “Don’t push your luck…Ma.”

Your heart skipped, warmth spreading as you smiled at him. “Noted, Jason.”

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, memories, and everyone catching up on life. Tim and Damian found themselves in a surprising truce as they argued over strategy in one of their favorite board games. Dick made a dramatic performance of acting out stories from his latest missions, keeping everyone in stitches. Even Jason relaxed, offering up a few quips that had everyone laughing.

After dinner, you found yourself in the kitchen, tidying up while everyone was in the living room. You paused, leaning against the counter, letting the warmth of the night settle over you. They weren’t all your biological kids, but they were yours all the same. Your family, each of them so different yet so loved.

Bruce walked in, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m perfect,” you said, reaching up to lace your fingers through his. “I just… I love them so much, Bruce. Seeing them all together like this makes me feel…” You trailed off, unsure if there was even a word for how full your heart felt.

He gave you a rare, gentle smile. “They love you too. More than you know.” And then, after a pause, he added, “You’re the reason they’re all here. You’re what brought us all together.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” Bruce said, pulling you into his arms. “They’re home because of you.”

The two of you lingered in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until you heard Tim’s voice call from the living room. “Are you two planning on hiding in there all night, or are we actually going to watch this movie, Mom?”

With a laugh, you and Bruce rejoined the group, taking your place among them. As the evening wore on, the boys began to drift off one by one, settling into the manor’s rooms or simply crashing on the couches. Jason fell asleep in an armchair, Damian nestled himself into a corner of the sofa with a book, and Dick was sprawled on the floor next to Tim, both of them talking quietly until their voices faded into the night.

When you and Bruce finally retired to your room, you glanced out the door one last time, your heart so full it ached.

“They’ll be off saving the world again tomorrow,” you murmured as you slipped under the covers, feeling Bruce’s arm wrap around you.

“But tonight, they’re home,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. And with that, you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the comfort of knowing that, for this one night, you had your whole family right where they belonged.

[xxmrs-waynexx]

Young Again

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x wife!reader (batmom)

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, Bruce is slightly OOC but it's for the plot.

Ever since Bruce came back from his latest mission, you tried your best to help him relax. He was always on edge and very clearly tense. This man was not doing okay this time around and it was stressing you out too. No matter how hard you tried, all the noises, movement, and whatever else happening in the manor was just too much for him. You assumed that whatever had happened with Scarecrow must’ve had something to do with fear toxin. 

So, you confided in Alfred. Who else would know your husband better than yourself? The two of you sat outside drinking tea and chatting.

“I just don’t know what else to do. He can’t stay in the cave all day planning and checking every news source for trouble, but he also isn’t able to help with the chaos of all the kids,” you explained.

Alfred thought for a moment before sighing, “Why don’t you two stay home tomorrow? I will go out with the young ones and be back by dinner time.” The older man gave you a kind and reassuring smile. “He will be back to himself before we know it. I have learned that sometimes the best way to make any progress is to take a break. Especially for master Bruce.”

And so you did. The next morning, you were sure to let Bruce sleep in. You didn’t mind being held for a bit longer than usual. By lunchtime, you two had finally pulled yourselves out of bed. It had been months since you’d last cooked. Usually, you helped Alfred but being on the PTA for your kids’ school was getting very busy as it neared winter break.

Cooking was something you used to do with Bruce in college. It used to be a fun bonding activity for you two in the communal kitchen in your dorm building. You’d avoided asking him if he wanted to since you knew he had a lifetime ban, courtesy of Alfred.

As you looked in the pantry, Bruce came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I just had the greatest idea on earth,” he mumbled in his deep, sleepy voice.

“Listen, if this is about your plan for Penguin, I already told you that it was good and that-”

“No,” he chuckled softly. “I think we should cook dinner for the family. They’ve probably had a long day and it’s the least we can do.”

His smile is what made you agree. You knew the reasoning was far beyond what he said. He wanted to relive the ‘good old days.’ And if Alfred wasn’t home to tell him no?

____

The kitchen was an absolute disaster. Dishes and ingredients were scattered all over the countertops. You did your best to help keep things in order, but you did have a little enjoyment for the chaos. Your combined laughter filled the kitchen and it was like you two were young and new to each other again.

“Okay, Bruce, now the flour. Not too much. Just use what’s left of the bag in there,” you said, back turned to his figure looking into the pantry.

“There’s just the unopened sack,” he said gruffly, pulling it out of the pantry and slamming it on the counter.

“...Alfred would buy the biggest bag known to man,” you let out a soft chuckle. However, upon turning around, you saw that perhaps slamming a bag of flour onto the counter was not quite the best idea. “Bruce!” Your eyes were wide with both amusement and shock.

Bruce stood in front of you, eyes squeezed shut, covered in flour. “I didn’t think-”

“No, you didn’t,” you laughed. You grabbed a wet cloth and began wiping off his face.

He wrapped his arms around you and you screamed, “NO! Bruce!” 

He chased you around the kitchen with flour in his hands, ready to throw when close enough. “Why do you get to stay clean and I don’t?” He asked, grinning like a madman. This was done with the same amount of energy as your yearly snowball fights- though usually you were on his side.

Once you realized the kitchen was too small to stay away from him, you bolted to the family room. “Bruce! Stop!” your laughs clouded your shouts. “You’re crazy!”

“Yeah?” he stalked you through the living room, the flour in his hands getting everywhere.

“Alfred is going to kill us- No, you,” you laughed.

“Who cares? It was fun. I feel young again,” he told you finally reaching you. He had you cornered between a bust of who-knows-who-that-guy-was and the wall.

Dinner was going to be fun.

[l0vem41l]

mean when i'm nervous.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited as BAWLS, dc writer newbie but im very enthusiastic abt the comics and shows and movies, dog metaphor but insane and unsubtle, explicitly vigilante!reader in dick grayson’s part, dramatic asf but not really angst 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. bruce wayne, clark kent, richard "dick" grayson, and john constantine

author's note: so. we all know what my favourite thing right now is (⌒_⌒;) i still adore everything i used to write for,,, but i’ve been on my comic motives recently (*ﾟｰﾟ*) ! reading dc mostly but spider-noir and deadpool have been picked up along the way!!! um. anyways. if i get comfy enough, i might do more dc stuff but i get that this isn't my exact audience on this blog— sorry my loves (´＿｀。) </3 might write a part two cuz i love jason. and booster gold. and like every single one of them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) halfway through writing this i realized everything feels very literal, so i feel the need to mention that this is not dog hybrid reader stuff but if u fw that u can imagine it that way

perhaps the habit of burning bridges you’re actively crossing isn’t a good idea. and you’re not an idiot, not in the slightest— but even if you were, everyone knows that needless self destruction when developing relationships is counterproductive.

you strike the match anyways, like it’s just a force of habit. another instinct.

if you spent life knowing that the hand only beats. why would you expect it to do anything else when it’s lowered towards you?

you learn to keep your hopes down, ears alert, and teeth sharp. you learn to get used to the taste of blood. to make things messy and complicated, and to end things when they need to be ended, because god knows it’s only self preservation when you do it.

you learn that the only way to survive is to bite— to hurt before something hurts you.

and one day, an unfamiliar hand that extends towards you decides to feed instead.

why do you still bare your teeth?

▸ BRUCE is unsure why he sticks around. he’s understanding, but also reasonably frustrated with your antics. it doesn’t evade him that they stem from something deeply rooted in your past— but he doesn’t know what to do about it. if there is anything to do.

at his core, he's a detective. he's got an eye for digging into strange pasts and a knack for knowing things he isn't supposed to. but in spite of his paranoia and hunger to know, bruce doesn't pry too much. he can do research on his own, without you ever having to realize.

you’re self-sufficient, he’ll give you that. you’re unsure sometimes of whether he’s proud that you can take care of yourself or irritated that you consistently insist on doing so. he’s unsure too. not like he lets you know.

it’s a mutual understanding the two of you share— he stays, you bite. yet bruce, unsurprisingly, doesn’t mind being bitten. he’d hope that the reason he’s sticking around is for the selfless reason of making sure you’re alright. though, the reality is, you’ve grown on him, whether you realize or not.

bruce has always been fond of strays.

▸ CLARK is nothing but patient. and that scares you beyond reason.

he sees the way you bare your teeth whenever someone gets too close for comfort to you. he knows when to back away, when to speak, when not to— he’s always attempting to never make you feel backed into a corner.

somehow, it makes you more anxious seeing just how much he understands about you. he knows just how to coax you out of the corner of your cage, how to bring you in closer, and it almost, almost convinces you to let your guard down.

the thought of that is terrifying.

you try barking, you try biting— and none of it works. clark doesn’t coddle you when you’re wrong— but he’s absolutely nothing but gentle. patient and understanding, sometimes you wonder how a man of steel can be so soft for someone like you.

▸ DICK isn’t dumb. it’s fairly easy for him to put two and two together. quickly, he figures out what he’s dealing with when he encounters you.

his conversations with you are never without a note of levity— a deliberate action on his end, you’re certain. he knows, you know, and because of it, everything feels oddly tense around him, even with the attempts to banter.

it’s too late to run. his observant gaze has caught a glimpse of you through your one way glass, and he’s chosen to meet your eyes with a smile. there's a sense of foreboding that gnaws at your gut, anxiously anticipating what might be lurking under that grin of his.

on his end, there are no malicious intentions. he doesn’t really have ulterior motives when it comes to you.

most times, he chooses to defend you and be the one standing at your side when no one else does. you don't understand why he insists on offering you friendship when all you do is pull away.

after a long night of patrolling the streets of gotham, you find the two of you leaning on the railing of a rooftop side by side. your eyes are on this cityscape of gotham. his are on you.

“you keep on insisting i’m not as bad as i seem,” you mutter under your breath.

late nights make for loose lips. he’s pleasantly surprised to hear you continue the thought instead of attempting to take it back.

“do you just hate being right?” you snort, allowing your gaze to flit over to him just for a second.

"no." dick smiles, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “i think you just hate the fact that i could be.”

▸ you tried not to bother with CONSTANTINE. the day the two of you met, you didn’t even introduce yourself.

john constantine’s presence alone reeks of trouble, as acrid and suffocating as the cigarette smoke that clings to his tan trenchcoat. you are attuned to things like that. he notices.

one thing you actually enjoy about him? he doesn’t chase. he’s a nosy one, for certain, sticking his nose into places no one in their right mind would— but for the most part, he steers clear of yours. initially, you think it’s because your urge to be left alone by him is so prevalent that he’s just chosen to heed the warning and not approach when unwanted.

but he’s not a man known for abiding by rules. he’s much more curious with you than you notice or prefer. in a way, your distance has made you more myth than man, more tale than tangible— you are a rumor passed through whispers between lips, a silent shadow lurking in the corner of the room… and he loves a good mystery.

“c’mon. you're actin’ like ‘m gonna bite your head off, luv,” he chuckles, lighting up the cigarette between his fingers.

i'd probably be the one doing that if i got any closer. you keep that thought in your head, standing with a gap between the two of you as always.

he doesn't miss how you avoid looking into his eyes like his gaze could murder, instead, focusing your gaze on the cherry of the cig, burning bright red.

“not much for a wee natter, hm?”

the quick shake of your head only makes his smirk grow. you could just walk away… so why exactly were you sticking around?

“fine by me. quiet company’s welcome.” that’s a sentence he’d probably never say to anyone else. in a strange way, he feels like he knows you well enough to be comfortable with the words that hang in the air.

it’s weird. you’re completely unknown, and yet, an irrational part of his mind keeps nagging at him to look just a little closer at you. sometimes, when he listens to it, he catches a glimpse of something silent in your eyes— an all too familiar pain of a person who can’t help but hurt the things that they cling onto.

so that’s why you’re keen on keeping everyone at arms length. it almost makes him laugh to think how similar the two of you are, plain as day, and yet unnoticed by you— a person who won’t even meet his eyes.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

More of Bruce being a doting spouse? That was cute

"Mrs. Wayne," Bruce said, handing you a cup of coffee with a smile, "Did you sleep well?"

"Fine," you answer yawning. "I'm just so sleepy-"

"I don't wonder why," he snorted, "You know you don't need a day job."

"I like having a proper routine," you answer, sipping coffee. "And I like my job."

"You could make a new routine," Bruce teased. "Tea, fundraisers, shopping-"

"That sounds like hell to do every day."

Bruce chuckled and tugged you closer to kiss the top of your head. When he met you, reading him the riot act outside of a development that hadn't been properly vetted- well. The rest was history. You were brave. You were smart. And you were thoroughly unimpressed by all his efforts to stop you from making a scene. And that scene kept him from making a potentially deadly mistake.

And from there he had to know you.

"You could do it though," he said. "You can do anything-"

"If I ever tell you I'm willingly going to spend $26 dollars on a wilted salad to listen to people complain about their help- who might be one of my cousins or something- please. I've been body snatched, look for me."

"Duly noted," Bruce snorted, watching you pick up your work bag. "Give 'em hell, sweetheart."

"I'm awake, I'm annoyed, and I'm about to make it everyone else's problem."

[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.

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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 ? 

[bat-mom-writer]

Wife On Repeat

Reader(Wife) X Bruce Wayne(Husband)

Summery: Bruce goes on an interview, and during his interview he wouldn't stop talking about you.

Rating: Fluff, slight spicy(if you squint your eyes and turn your head sideways.)

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"Welcome back, folks," the host, Janelle, flashed a gleaming smile as the commercial break concluded. "And tonight, we have a truly remarkable individual joining us. An inspiration to millions, a legend in his own right. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a warm welcome to Bruce Wayne!"

The studio audience erupted into applause as Bruce emerged from behind the velvet curtains. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his jaw firmly set, and his eyes focused on the cameras. He took his seat opposite Janelle.

"Mr. Wayne, we're absolutely thrilled to have you here," Janelle said, her voice a mix of excitement and professionalism.

"Oh, Janelle, it's an honor to be here," Bruce responded with a courteous nod, his deep voice resonating through the studio. "I might even say I've been here before, but then I realize that you're show is always on my 12th living room Tv."

The audience chuckled at Bruce's light-hearted remark, easing the tension that always seemed to follow him. Janelle leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Now, as a man with such an illustrious career, we're all dying to know, what drives you?"

"Well, Janelle," Bruce replied with a twinkle in his eye, "you might say it's my chauffeur."

The audience chuckled again, and Janelle couldn't help but laugh along. "Seriously though," she said, "what motivates you to get out of bed in the morning?"

Bruce's smile remained, but there was a sudden shift in his demeanor, a softening of his eyes. "My wife, she usually has to shove me out of bed in the morning," he joked, his tone light but tinged with a hint of something deeper. "But in all seriousness, it's my wife and sons that keep me going. They're my rock, my reason."

The camera zoomed in on his face, capturing the sincerity of his words. Janelle nodded, her own expression a blend of admiration and curiosity. "You speak of your wife, Mr. Wayne, but you never mention her name. Is there a particular reason for that?"

Bruce's smile never wavered, but his eyes grew distant for a brief moment, as if looking into a memory. "Let's just say she's a very private person, and I like to respect her wishes. Plus, I think the mystery adds a bit of intrigue to the whole billionaire philanthropist package, don't you think?" He winked at Janelle, and the audience laughed in response.

"Well, I'm sure swim suit modals and Russian ballerina, are sadden to see you off the market," Janelle said with a playful smile, eliciting another round of laughter from the audience.

"Ah, the perils of fame," Bruce chuckled. "But in all seriousness, she's the love of my life, I wouldn't have her any other way."

The interview progressed, with Janelle asking him about his latest ventures in tech and philanthropy. Yet, she found herself drawn back to the topic of his family life. "You have quite the brood of young men, Mr. Wayne," she said, glancing at her notes. "Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. They're all so accomplished in their own right. Tell us a bit about them."

"Well, my wife would tell you that each of our sons mostly take after me, but I'd say with a sprinkle of their mother's charm and grace," Bruce said with a proud smile. "Dick is the eldest. He's taken after me in a lot of ways, but he's also forged his own path. He's got a strong sense of justice, and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty to make the world a better place. Sometimes he'll literally get dirty, and my wife has to remind him to wash up before dinner."

The audience chuckled, and Bruce's gaze grew more intense as he continued. "Jason, on the other hand, is the wild card. He's got this fiery passion that can either set the world alight or burn bridges. But usually my wife is the one putting out the fires."

"Then there's Tim," Bruce went on, a hint of warmth in his voice. "The brains of the bunch. He's got a mind like a computer—no, better than a computer. And he uses it for good, just like his mother always taught him. He's got a gentle soul, but don't let that fool you. He's as tenacious as they come when he sets his sights on something. I think he picked that up from my wife."

"And finally," Janelle prompted, "what can you tell us about Damian?"

Bruce's smile grew wistful. "Ah, Damian. He's the youngest, but he's got the heart of a lion. And the stubbornness to match. He's a bit of a handful, I won't lie. But he's also the most loving and fiercely loyal little guy I know. He's got a bit of his mother's grace in him, which I'm sure she's thrilled about, and he's learning to channel his intensity into positive outlets. I can't wait to see what he'll achieve when he's all grown up. Though I think my wife would argue that he's already achieved quite a bit."

Janelle nodded, scribbling down notes. "It seems you're very proud of your sons," she said.

"I am," Bruce said, his eyes glowing with pride. "But it's my wife who truly deserves the credit. She's the glue that holds us all together. Without her, we'd all be lost."

Janelle leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "I couldn't help but notice how often you brought up your wife," she said. "It's clear she plays a significant role in your life and the lives of your sons."

"She does," Bruce agreed, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to radiate through the studio. "She's the unsung hero behind the Wayne legacy. Without her, none of this would be possible."

"How did you two meet?" Janelle asked, her curiosity piqued.

Bruce took a deep breath, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a cherished memory. "Well, Janelle, that's a story for another night," he said, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "But I can tell you that she walked into my life when I least expected it, and she changed everything."

The audience leaned in, hanging onto every word. Janelle, sensing the gravity of the moment, decided not to push further. "Let's move on to your philanthropic efforts," she said, switching topics. "Your newest venture, the Wayne Foundation, is making waves with its innovative approach to solving global issues. Can you tell us more about that?"

"My wife's idea," Bruce said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "She saw a need for a more personal approach to giving back. We wanted to create a foundation that didn't just throw money at problems, but actually rolled up its sleeves and got involved in the community. We've started with education and environmental initiatives, but our goal is to expand into healthcare and social justice as well. She's the heart of it all, the one who keeps me grounded and reminds me that it's not about the size of the donation, but the impact it makes."

As Janelle nodded, she couldn't help but feel the genuine love and admiration Bruce had for his wife. It was clear she wasn't just a partner in life, but also in his mission to make a difference.

The interview continued, with Bruce explaining the intricate details of the Wayne Foundation's projects. His passion for the cause was palpable, and it was evident that his wife's influence had been instrumental in shaping the foundation's core values. The audience listened intently, inspired by the depth of his commitment and the quiet strength of the woman who remained behind the scenes.

"Well, that's all the time we have for tonight," Janelle announced as the interview drew to a close. "Thank you, Bruce Wayne, for giving us a glimpse into your fascinating life and the incredible work you do. And of course, a special thank you to the woman who stands by your side, even if she's not here in the flesh."

"Thank you, Janelle," Bruce said with a nod. "I'm sure she's watching," he added, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And she's probably cringing at every sappy thing I've said."

The audience erupted in laughter as Janelle wrapped up the segment. "Well, folks, there you have it," she said as the lights dimmed. "The enigmatic Bruce Wayne, opening up about his life's work and the woman who fuels his passion. Thank you for watching and we're going to take a quick break. When we come back, we'll be discussing the latest in celebrity gossip."

The cameras switched off and Bruce took a moment to collect himself. The mention of his wife had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions. He had always been careful about what he shared with the public, but tonight, he had allowed himself to be more open than ever before. The warmth of the studio lights began to feel stifling, and he longed for the cool embrace of the night.

Once arriving home, Bruce found his mansion ablaze with lights, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude he had left behind in the TV studio.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce," Alfred, his ever-faithful butler, greeted him at the door. "Your presence was quite enchanting on television tonight. Your mysterious charm has not waned."

Bruce chuckled, peeling off his tie. "Thanks, Alfred," he said, his gaze drifting to the grand staircase. "I think it's time for me to check in with the real star of the show."

Alfred nodded knowingly, his eyes twinkling. "Indeed, she's been waiting for your return."

Bruce took the stairs two at a time, his heart racing with anticipation. He found you in your private study, surrounded by books and papers, your eyes glued to the computer screen. You looked up as he entered, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Welcome back," your said, your voice warm as you get up to greet him. You're arms wrapped around him in an embrace that felt more like a homecoming than a simple greeting.

He held you tightly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. "How'd it go?" you whispered.

"You watched it, didn't you?" he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I had to make sure you didn't spill any of our secrets," you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Bruce chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "You know me, I'm a pro at keeping secrets," he murmured. "But it went smoothly, all things considered. Janelle was quite the interviewer."

You stepped away, a playful smirk on your face. "Or you're just eager to spill everything about your love life on national television," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe I did get carried away," Bruce admitted with a chuckle, his gaze following you as you moved to the minibar to pour him a whiskey. He took the glass gratefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "But when it comes to you, I find it hard not to." Taking a sip of the amber liquid, he let out a contented sigh.

You took a seat on the couch, your legs crossed elegantly, and your arms resting on the back of the cushion. "Well, with everything you told Janelle tonight, I don't think I'll be revealing myself any time soon," you said, your voice a perfect blend of humor and affection.

Bruce sat down next to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another sip of whiskey. "I have to let them know how lucky I am without them getting all… obsessive," he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I couldn't help but notice how you avoided the question of how we met."

Bruce took a long sip of his whiskey, his eyes twinkling. "Some secrets are better left untold," he said, his voice low and mysterious. "But if I did, a few… other secrets would come to light."

You leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? And what might those secrets be?"

Bruce set his whiskey glass down with a clink, his eyes alight with mischief. "Well, thinking back, it would be interesting telling them the real story of how we met," he began, his tone playful yet filled with a sense of nostalgia. "Imagine their faces when I tell them it was in a dark alley, not at some fancy gala or charity event."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound as enchanting as it was unexpected. "Only you could turn a mugging into a romantic meet-cute," you said, shaking your head.

"Well, when you put it that way," Bruce said with a grin, his arm sliding around your shoulders with yours coming down. "But really, it was your fiery spirit and quick thinking that night that made me fall for you."

You playfully slapped his chest. "Fiery spirit? I was just trying not to get shot."

"And you did it with such poise," Bruce said, his eyes warm with admiration. "But yes, that's when I knew you were special. And when I saw you handle those thugs with nothing but a pair of heels and a handbag…"

You blushed, the memory still vivid in your mind. "Well, I'd like to think I've improved since then."

Bruce leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you have, in more ways than you know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face. "But I'll always remember that night, when I realized I'd met my match."

You raised an eyebrow at his dramatic tone. "The Joker?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't recall seeing the Joker there."

Bruce leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "No, not the Joker. But someone equally as formidable," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Someone who could handle the chaos of Gotham and still look good in a pantsuit."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth of his gaze had your heart fluttering. "Dick?" you said, playing along.

"No," Bruce said, his voice a low murmur. "Someone much more… elusive." He leaned in closer, his lips so close to yours. "Someone who can melt the ice in my heart."

"Superman?" You whisper your tone teasing.

"You little teasing woman," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your lips before returning to meet your eyes. "Always keeping me guessing."

"It's part of my charm," you said, your voice a gentle tease.

"The charm that never gets old," Bruce murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.

The air between them grew thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension stretching taut as a bowstring. You leaned closer, your heart racing. "Are you just going to keep a girl waiting?" you whispered.

With a soft chuckle, Bruce closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as fiery as it was gentle. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and for a moment, the weight of their shared secrets and the chaos of Gotham City felt a world away.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the tension of the day melt away. His touch was familiar yet always had the power to ignite something new within you. You pulled him closer, your hand resting gently on the back of his neck, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine.

Bruce set the whiskey glass down with care, the sound of the liquid swirling the last reminder of their light-hearted banter before the intensity of their connection took over. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand splayed over the curve of your hip. The warmth of his palm seemed to seep into your very bones, anchoring you to the moment, to him.

The door to the study swung open with a creak, the hinges protesting against the weight of the heavy wood. You both startled, breaking the kiss as your eyes darted to the intrusion. In the doorway stood Dick, his eyes wide and a look of shock etched on his face. "Bruce, I—uh, I didn't." he pause, "I should have figured…this, after tonight's interview."

Bruce cleared his throat, straightening his tie with a slight blush. "Dick, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to say," Dick says, his cheeks flushing as he stepped into the room, "that I thought you did a really good job on the interview tonight. You talked a lot about us, and…" He trailed off, looking down at his feet. "And I'll just leave now, oh but, uh… you might want to start locking doors."

You both laugh awkwardly, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had formed. "Thank you sweetheart, I think we'll keep that in mind," Bruce says, patting your knee reassuringly.

Dick nods, a knowing smile on his face, closes the door and retreats down the hallway. "Nobody go in the office, Bruce is making out with mom," he calls out, his voice echoing through the mansion.

You and Bruce listen as he goes, "It's like he's announcing dinner," you murmur, amusement coloring your voice.

"Well, my dinner at least, come here" he smirks, tackling you to the couch with a playful growl, making you giggle and squirm in his grip. The plush fabric cushions your fall, but it's Bruce's arms that truly make you feel safe and secure. His eyes dance with mischief as he pins you down, the weight of his body pressing into yours, a comforting reminder of his presence.